What registers first at The Red Sea EDITION is not the view, which is a curious thing to say of a resort set on the white sand of Shura Island, but the scent gets there before anything else does. EDITION’s collaboration with the New York fragrance house Le Labo runs right through the property, from the lobby to the washrooms to the amenities in the bathrooms and walking in for the first time is a pleasant sort of ambush. The quality of those amenities is high enough to lift the whole experience, which is not something to take for granted at any price point.
Getting there is part of the appeal. The boat crossing ends at the new Shura Marina, a considerably more polished arrival than the boat landing at Turtle Bay it replaces, with retail units taking shape along the water. Guests wait for their car in a small lounge closer in feel to a private aviation terminal than a transfer point, tea and coffee poured, good snacks laid out, air conditioning doing its quiet work. The drive from there is short.
The Shura setting
The island itself is worth understanding. Shura is the centrepiece of the wider Red Sea development, a dolphin-shaped island that will eventually hold 11 resorts alongside residences, retail, a marina and Shura Links, the Kingdom’s first island golf course. The pace of change is worth noting: the last time we were on the island a good deal of this was still a construction site, and it has since resolved into mostly finished landscaping, lit pathways and public spaces.
The integration is what sets it apart. Everything circles the golf course at the centre, and buggies shuttle guests around on request, so a dinner reservation elsewhere on Shura becomes a matter of asking at the desk rather than arranging a transfer. A channel of aqua-hued seawater threads through the island, which turns walking between points into something you actually want to do rather than merely something possible. It is a degree of connection across a single island that we have not come across before, and it quietly widens what a stay here can include.
Nothing here rises high. The buildings keep low and spread wide, and at The Red Sea EDITION the accommodation sits in shell-shaped pavilions of natural oak, coral stone and earth-toned walls. Curved timber battens run out from each entrance and follow the line of the roof, casting shade across the walkways and keeping the air beneath them noticeably cooler. There are 240 guest rooms and 53 suites, and the suites come with a private pool.
Why the Bay Suite is the room to book
The Bay Suite runs to 122 square metres and takes a full shell to itself, sea facing, with the beach a short walk from the terrace. Inside, it behaves less like a hotel room than a small house. A long living room holds an enormous corner sofa, a low table and a television, opening through to a dining area anchored by a generous bench seat, with the minibar and coffee machine tucked behind. The bedroom is kept deliberately spare: the king bed, a wardrobe and a long floating shelf that doubles as a desk and a place to get ready. The bathroom is the other surprise, finished in fossilised coral stone, with twin basins, a walk-in rain shower with the bath set inside the same wet room, which is a neater arrangement than it sounds, and a separate WC. The shower pressure, for anyone who cares about such things, is excellent.
The palette is cream, white and pale timber throughout, and the styling is minimal in the truest sense of the word. There is no gallery wall, no crowd of decorative objects, no furniture for the sake of filling a corner. What there is instead is a good stack of coffee table books in every room, which gives the space a cultural texture without cluttering it, and a great deal of glass. The surroundings are left to do the talking, and on this stretch of coast they are more than capable.
Then the outside, which is where the category earns its worth. The plunge pool sits in an elongated oval on the terrace, compact but with real depth to it, and a submerged seat set into one side halfway along so you can sit in the water rather than stand in it. It needed no heating whatsoever. Surrounding it are two sun loungers, a sofa and an armchair, an outdoor shower, and enough planting to give privacy from the beach path without walling out the view. One morning went by doing nothing more than sitting there with an espresso, looking at the water, which is precisely the sort of small thing a suite like this exists to make possible.
For a longer stay it is a serious proposition. The separation between living room and bedroom is the difference between a hotel room and somewhere you can settle into, and after a couple of days the suite starts to feel like a small home rather than an address. Something of that quality runs down the room categories too. Because every room here opens onto its own outdoor space, even the entry-level categories carry a little of the private villa about them, which is unusual at that level.
Bali by the Red Sea
Jiwa takes its name from the Indonesian word for soul, and the beach club is built around water, fire and sound: drums through the afternoon, bonfires at sunset, and a fire show that draws the room at exactly the right moment. It sits on the sand beneath a thatched canopy, low white daybeds arranged across timber decking, a boardwalk running towards it through the dunes. Arriving guests are welcomed with rice and flowers in the Balinese manner, a frangipani tucked behind the ear, and for anyone who loves Bali as much as we do, the effect is immediate and disorientating in the best possible way.
The cooking is properly Indonesian rather than gestured at. Skewers arrive in bamboo steamer baskets with peanut sauce and sambal alongside, chicken and beef handled over fire, vegetables treated with as much attention as the protein, and the zero cocktails hold their own next to it. Sunset over the water is reason enough to book the earlier end of service.
Better still is the discovery class, a hands-on session with chef de cuisine Made Suriana, who runs through the techniques and spices behind the menu. Sea bass was wrapped in banana leaf with spices and grilled, chicken thigh skewers were built and cooked, and the preparation had been pared back so that guests are not stuck peeling and chopping for an hour. Understanding what goes into the spice paste changes how the rest of the menu reads afterwards. It also produced lunch, which felt like a generous return on very little labour.
Comfort food and the coffee question
Breakfast, lunch and dinner all happen at Central, whose name nods to New York’s Grand Central Station and whose menu leans firmly American: comfort cooking built on local ingredients, an open kitchen and communal tables running the length of the room. The best thing on it is the pizza, made with sourdough and fired in a proper wood oven, and it is good on its own terms rather than good for a hotel. Dinner one night was a tomahawk with mac and cheese and roast cauliflower, exactly as indulgent as that reads, followed by desserts on an unapologetically American scale. The cheesecake is not for the faint-hearted. On a quieter evening, simple grilled chicken arrived cooked precisely, which in an all-day restaurant matters rather more than any signature dish.
Breakfast is part buffet, part à la carte. The omelettes and hash browns are done well and were worth ordering twice over, though the spread is not one of those overwhelming displays some resorts build, and the fruit was decent rather than exceptional, which is at least partly a question of regional sourcing rather than of the kitchen. Two small things stood out. A pistachio butter turned out to be predominantly peanut, which is a shame when the pistachio is the reason you reach for the spoon. And the coffee, cappuccinos in particular, was not made with the precision the rest of the property leads you to expect. Most guests will find it perfectly pleasant; anyone who takes coffee seriously will notice, and a little extra barista training would close that gap quickly. Given how many guests begin every single day with a cup, it looks like the easiest win available.
A spa built around recovery rather than ritual
The Spa at The Red Sea EDITION is large, and it is clearly no afterthought. Five treatment rooms, one of them a couple’s suite, sit alongside a beauty salon, a relaxation area and a pool of its own, and the centrepiece is the Recovery Dome, a circular room arranged like a clock face with five stations set around it: infrared sauna, bio sauna, heated stone loungers, a snow shower and a lymphatic shower. The hotel describes it as the first of its kind in the Middle East. Either way, it is the sort of space where an hour disappears without a treatment booked at all.
The treatment itself, a Balinese massage, ran differently from the norm. There was no welcome ritual at the feet, no tray of oils to choose from. What there was instead was a consultation taken genuinely seriously: stress marked at one number, sleep at another, a stated preference for something energising rather than sedating, and a therapist who read the form, built the session around it and chose the oil herself, explaining why as she went. Less theatre, more intent. The result was exactly what had been asked for, which is not always how these things go.
The extras are the part worth knowing about before arrival. Compression boots for the legs and red-light therapy masks can be borrowed, and the team are happy for guests to take them out to the pool. The changing rooms have hot and cold plunges and heated loungers, and tea and very good cookies appear after treatments. Notably for the region, several areas including the saunas are shared between men and women, which makes a real difference for couples travelling together and is still uncommon across the Gulf.
The gym runs to 316 square metres and is open around the clock, properly equipped with Technogym rather than the token selection some resorts consider sufficient, with indoor and outdoor studios, reformer Pilates and space for yoga. Cycling and weights sessions there were straightforward and well served. Tennis and padel courts sit on site, though in the heat the question of playing is more of an idea.
The signature EDITION lobby
Every EDITION lobby is designed to be the beating heart of its hotel and comparing them across properties is one of the quiet pleasures of the brand. This is among the better ones. It is an open, canyon-like space with a triple-height ceiling, earth walls and a timber roof, and the achievement is that it feels intimate rather than cavernous. Furniture and planting break it into zones, the sofas are deep and cushioned in white, coffee table books are everywhere, greenery softens every sightline, and a sculptural staircase curves down to Central with light running beneath the handrail.
There is a pool table, as there tends to be at EDITION, and as ever it has been reconsidered rather than simply installed: pale baize, stone surround, a piece of furniture as much as a game. In the evening the room shifts. One night brought a live singer, which turned the hour before dinner into an event rather than a wait, and there is high table seating for larger groups. Tea infusions, pastries and an Aperi-Tea service run through the day, and weekends bring a cocktail reception with a mixology trolley and live music. There is no alcohol at The Red Sea EDITION, in keeping with the destination, and the zero cocktail programme has been built with enough seriousness that the absence registers far less than expected.
Outside, the paths come into their own after dark, edged with low lights. The beach is long and quiet, the water genuinely beautiful, and there are more loungers than there are people to fill them. A water sports centre operates through a specialist partner, with boat trips and wakeboarding among the options, and the main infinity pool looks well designed even if the suite’s plunge pool won our attention for most of the stay.
City vibes in a beach resort
Where The Red Sea EDITION succeeds most clearly is in translation. This is a brand built in New York and defined by urban energy, music and social space, and the version delivered on a Saudi beach keeps that identity intact without importing anything that does not belong. The sound system in the room set loud enough to feel like the start of a night out, the scent, a lobby that wants to be occupied: it is all recognisably EDITION, set down in a low, sand-coloured resort where the sea is left to do most of the work.
Neither the hotel nor the island is finished, and both are the better for being honest about it. The coffee needs sharpening and the signature Greek restaurant is still to come. What is already here, though, is a property with a clear sense of itself on an island that is becoming genuinely compelling. This is a coastline that rewards timing, and autumn through to spring is the window to plan around. Book the Bay Suite, come for four or five nights rather than two, and let the plunge pool set the pace.
Quick summary – The Red Sea EDITION
- Style: low-rise beach resort, 240 guest rooms and 53 suites in shell-shaped pavilions, private pool in every suite
- Location: Shura Island, The Red Sea, Saudi Arabia
- Rooms: the Bay Suite runs to 122 sqm, sea front, with separate living and dining areas, a plunge pool and an outdoor shower
- Dining: Central, Jiwa Beach Club, Jiwa Terrace and the Lobby
- Wellness: the Spa with five treatment rooms and the Recovery Dome, plus a 316 sqm gym open 24 hours
- Getting there: by boat into Shura Marina, or by electric vehicle across the Shura crossing
- Worth knowing: alcohol free, with a full zero cocktail programme
- Best time to go: autumn through to spring, as high summer is demanding
- Ideal for: couples and longer stays, with the Bay Suite worth four or five nights
