The beach will forgive you for leaving it — once you see what is behind it. South Sinai’s interior is one of the most cinematic deserts on earth: canyons banded in colour, stone ruins older than memory, and rim-edge sunsets that make the sea jealous.
The coloured canyons
Wind and water spent millions of years carving these passages through the sandstone, leaving walls that ripple in rust, rose, cream and violet. Walking one feels like moving through the inside of a seashell — narrow, cool, quiet, with the sky reduced to a bright ribbon overhead.

The ancient stones
Scattered across the high desert stand clusters of prehistoric stone structures — dwellings and burial sites raised by hands thousands of years ago and kept nearly intact by the dry air. Standing among them at sunset, with the gulf glinting far below, is the kind of moment that recalibrates your sense of time.

The rim at golden hour
Every desert trip should end on an edge. The plateau rims above the coast serve sunsets in panorama — the mountains going amber, the wadis filling with shadow, and that long silence that only deserts produce.

Doing it right
Go with local Bedouin guides — always. They know the safe routes, the light, the stories, and the tea stops; the desert is their living room. Wear real shoes, carry more water than feels reasonable, and start early or late — midday belongs to the shade.
Staying at Matarma makes the logistics disappear: the team arranges guided desert excursions straight from the beach, so your only job is to be amazed and back for dinner — which, being half board, is already waiting.
