Rixos Bab Al Bahr - All Inclusive

Rixos Bab Al Bahr sits on Al Marjan Island, a quartet of coral-shaped islands extending into the Persian Gulf north of Ras Al Khaimah city. This is the quieter emirate, less vertical than Dubai or Abu Dhabi, where development favours low-rise resorts and wide stretches of sand over skyscraper clusters. The archipelago curves into turquoise shallows, its beaches backed by date palms and landscaped promenades. Across the water, the Hajar Mountains rise in rust-coloured folds, their peaks sharp against the sky.

Ras Al Khaimah itself remains rooted in fishing and pearl-diving heritage, its old town souks still trading spices and textiles alongside the usual tourist fare. The pace here is slower than in the southern emirates, the air salt-tinged and clean. Al Marjan Island's resorts operate as self-contained worlds, but the mainland is close enough for excursions to forts, museums, and the Faya Palaeolandscape, a UNESCO site preserving 210,000 years of human habitation between the Gulf and Arabian Sea.

Ras Al Khaimah International Airport sits 20 kilometres away, a short drive along coastal roads. Dubai International is an hour south for those continuing onward.

The property's beach stretches a few hundred metres along the island's western shore, shallow enough for wading far out into the Gulf. Early mornings bring calm water and low light, the best time for swimming before the heat settles in. Bin Majid Resort Beach and Santorini Beach lie within two kilometres for variety, though the immediate shoreline rarely feels crowded. Al Hamra Golf Club, less than four kilometres away, offers 18 holes designed by Peter Harradine, fairways threading between lagoons and desert scrub.

The Faya Palaeolandscape, 65 kilometres inland, rewards the drive with evidence of Neolithic encampments and ancient stone tools scattered across wind-scoured dunes. It's archaeological rather than picturesque, best visited in winter when the desert is walkable. Closer to the property, Al Hamra Royal Yacht Club anchors a small marina scene five kilometres south, where dhows and motor yachts share the water. Book a sunset sail if the Gulf is glassy, the mountains bruising purple as the light fades.

Winter, from December through February, brings the mildest temperatures, highs in the low twenties and evenings cool enough for outdoor dining without sweat. The Gulf breeze is constant, the light sharp and clear. March and April see the heat build gradually, days climbing past 30 degrees but still bearable before the summer furnace arrives.

May through September is brutally hot, the air thick and shimmering, temperatures routinely exceeding 35 degrees. The beach becomes the only viable daytime refuge, the water bathwater-warm. Rain is functionally absent year-round, the landscape perpetually blonde and desiccated.

October and November offer the second comfortable window, the worst heat breaking but the sea still warm. This is ideal for swimming without the winter chill, the sky reliably cloudless, the desert accessible again for excursions.