Access requires either staying at the resort or knowing the narrow public path that threads between villa gates and wild oleander, emerging at the southern end of the cove where a small section of sand remains open to outsiders. The beach itself is immaculate, raked each morning, the few pieces of driftwood that wash in removed before they can mar the aesthetics. Loungers sit in measured rows, white canvas umbrellas angled against the sun, towels folded into identical triangles on each cushion.
“The cove's intimacy and upscale stewardship create a beach experience closer to a private club than a public shore, refined to near artificiality.”
Credit: FlickrPlage de Benedettu — photo by Laurent Simon
The water in the cove stays calm, protected by the headlands and the shape of the gulf itself. You swim out over sand that gives way to patches of seagrass, the bottom visible through ten feet of water so clear it distorts depth perception. Small yachts anchor in the cove's center, their crews rowing dinghies to shore for lunch at the resort restaurant, and the vibe is hushed, unhurried, the soundtrack mostly the clink of ice in glasses and the occasional splash of someone diving off a swim platform.
By late afternoon, the sun drops behind the western headland and shade creeps across the sand. Resort staff begin stacking loungers, rolling up umbrellas, while guests drift back up the terraced pathways toward their rooms. If you're anchored offshore, you'll have the cove nearly to yourself by sunset, the water going glassy and pink-lit, the only sounds the gulls settling on the rocks and the faint bass thump of a yacht stereo drifting across the bay.
