You reach the beach down a narrow road lined with prickly pear and oleander, past villas with shuttered windows and gardens smelling of jasmine. The sand stretches pale and soft, unmarred except for a few wooden footbridges that cross the dunes. At the waterline, it darkens to beige where the tide has wet it, firm enough for walking.
“The bay's shallow bathymetry and southern exposure create water temperatures several degrees warmer than neighboring beaches, extending the swimming season into October.”
White cliffs over a desert beach
Wading in, you'll feel how tepid the water runs—warmer than Fontane Bianche just up the coast, sheltered by the gentle curve of the bay. The seabed is smooth sand with occasional patches of dark seagrass where tiny silver fish hover. By noon, the water takes on a saturated turquoise, bright enough that you'll squint even through sunglasses. Small fishing boats drift offshore, their anchors visible on the pale bottom.
The beach has both lido sections with ordered umbrellas and free stretches where you can lay a towel in the shade of tamarisk trees. A beachfront trattoria serves spaghetti with sea urchin, the pasta still steaming, the urchin roe tasting of brine and iron. In late afternoon, the light turns golden, and families pack up coolers while a few swimmers linger, floating on their backs as the water goes flat and glassy.