Red Sea to Red Mountain: Boutique Stays in Aqaba and Asmara

After twenty years covering sporting events across continents, I've developed what my wife calls a 'professional relationship with luxury' – appreciating exceptional service without being dazzled by mere opulence. The Kempinski Hotel Aqaba Red Sea exemplifies this balance perfectly. Situated along Jordan's modest 27km coastline, this property demonstrates how thoughtful design can transform a destination experience.

The hotel's curved façade mimics the shoreline it faces, with every room offering unobstructed sea views that capture both sunrise and the silhouettes of Egyptian mountains across the water. What impressed me most wasn't just the five-star amenities but how the property serves as a cultural gateway. The concierge arranged a private boat excursion with a local captain who had been diving these waters for decades, sharing stories of how the port town has evolved from ancient Edom to today's free economic zone.

The Kempinski's infinity pool creates the perfect illusion of swimming directly into the Red Sea, while maintaining the privacy luxury travelers seek. I spent mornings here with my waterproof e-reader, alternating between reading about Aqaba's role in the Great Arab Revolt and watching local fishermen prepare their boats for the day.

The hotel's Sea.Fire restaurant deserves special mention for its sustainable seafood program. Chef Mahmoud sources from local fishermen using traditional methods, creating a menu that balances Levantine flavors with international techniques. The grilled red snapper with za'atar and preserved lemon was a highlight that had me returning twice during my three-night stay.

While Aqaba itself offers diving experiences that rival more celebrated Red Sea destinations, the city's true advantage is its proximity to Wadi Rum and Petra. Using the Kempinski as my base, I arranged a full-day excursion to Wadi Rum through the hotel's experience desk, which proved far more personalized than the standard tours operating from Amman.

My guide, Suleiman, was a member of the local Bedouin community whose family has traversed these rust-colored landscapes for generations. Unlike the rushed tours that hurry between Instagram-famous spots, Suleiman took us to quieter corners of the protected area, explaining how various sporting traditions – particularly endurance horse riding – evolved from the practical needs of desert navigation.

I'd strongly recommend packing a quality camera lens filter kit if you're a photography enthusiast. The desert light in Wadi Rum is both magnificent and challenging, with extreme contrasts that standard smartphone cameras struggle to capture. The variable ND filter allowed me to balance the bright sky against the shadowed canyon walls, preserving details that would otherwise be lost.

Returning to Aqaba's coastal climate after a day in the desert creates a sensory reset that enhances appreciation for both environments. The temperature difference – often 10°C cooler on the coast – makes the evening sea breeze particularly refreshing. This geographical juxtaposition reminded me of matches I'd covered at South Africa's Newlands Cricket Ground, where players contend with both Table Mountain's shadow and the Cape Doctor wind within hours.

The flight from Amman to Asmara requires a connection and some patience with visa procedures, but the architectural rewards make the journey worthwhile. Eritrea remains one of Africa's least visited countries, partly due to its complex political situation and partly because its treasures remain largely unpublicized. For travelers willing to navigate these challenges, Asmara offers an unparalleled collection of Italian modernist architecture, preserved through decades of isolation.

I've long been fascinated by how colonial sporting traditions – like cricket in India or rugby in New Zealand – evolve to become authentic expressions of local identity. Asmara presents a parallel architectural story: Italian designs reinterpreted through local materials and sensibilities, creating something entirely unique.

The Albergo Italia, my accommodation choice, embodies this cultural synthesis. Established in 1899, it's one of Africa's oldest continuously operating hotels, though the current structure dates primarily from the 1930s Art Deco renovation. The hotel's historic significance is matched by its surprising comfort – the recent restoration maintained period details while discreetly adding modern necessities.

My corner room featured original terrazzo floors, restored wooden shutters, and a balcony overlooking Liberation Avenue. The bathroom's vintage fixtures had been carefully preserved, though the plumbing had thankfully been updated. While not offering the comprehensive amenities of Aqaba's Kempinski, the Albergo Italia provides something rarer: an authentic connection to Asmara's unique architectural heritage.

For capturing the remarkable light quality in Asmara (the city sits at 2,325 meters elevation), I relied heavily on my compact travel tripod. The aluminum version balances weight and stability perfectly for travel photography, allowing me to capture the golden hour illuminating the city's modernist facades without carrying excessive equipment.

If Aqaba's primary luxury is its natural setting, Asmara's is its extraordinary built environment. UNESCO recognized the entire city center as a World Heritage Site in 2017, citing it as 'an exceptional example of early modernist urbanism.' Walking these streets feels like stepping into an alternate timeline where Italian futurism found its most complete expression not in Europe, but in East Africa.

The Albergo Italia's central location makes it ideal for architectural exploration. Within a fifteen-minute walk, I discovered the Fiat Tagliero Building (resembling a concrete airplane), Cinema Impero (perhaps Africa's most beautiful movie theater), and numerous cafes where vintage Gaggia espresso machines still hiss and steam. These aren't museums – they're living, functioning spaces where Asmarinos conduct their daily lives amid extraordinary design.

My local guide, Biniam, arranged through the hotel, provided historical context that transformed my understanding of these buildings. What initially appeared as simple colonial imposition revealed itself as a complex negotiation between Italian design principles and local craftsmanship. The resulting structures speak to both oppression and creative adaptation.

Asmara's 2,325-meter elevation creates a climate that defies expectations of East Africa – cool mornings and evenings bracket warm, dry days. This highland environment demands layered clothing. My packable down jacket proved essential for early morning photography sessions when temperatures hovered around 10°C, yet packed small enough to carry when afternoons warmed to a pleasant 22°C.

The city's cafe culture deserves special mention. Bar Moderna, despite its name, dates from the 1930s and serves macchiatos that would impress any Milan barista. These cafes became my afternoon ritual – places to review photographs, write notes, and observe the gentle rhythm of a city that operates at a pace reminiscent of pre-digital life.

The juxtaposition of Aqaba and Asmara creates a journey of fascinating contrasts. In Aqaba, luxury is expressed through contemporary international standards – infinity pools, spa treatments, and fusion cuisine. In Asmara, luxury manifests as preserved heritage, unhurried authenticity, and cultural experiences unavailable elsewhere.

The final evening of my stay in each location highlighted these differences perfectly. In Aqaba, I enjoyed a private dinner on the Kempinski's beach, waves lapping nearby as a chef prepared local seafood at a temporary station. The experience was curated, comfortable, and executed with professional precision.

In Asmara, my final evening involved joining locals at an impromptu football viewing party at a neighborhood bar near the Albergo Italia. When I mentioned my background in sports journalism, I was immediately drawn into passionate debates about Premier League strategies and the comparative merits of various national teams. The spontaneous camaraderie – facilitated by local Asmara beer and shared sports enthusiasm – created a connection no planned luxury experience could match.

This contrast extends to the physical environments as well. Aqaba sits at sea level, with humidity that softens the desert air and creates spectacular sunsets as light refracts through moisture. Asmara's thin highland atmosphere produces sharper light, cooler temperatures, and a clarity that makes distant mountains seem deceptively close.

For photographers, these distinct environments demand different approaches. In Aqaba, I often used my polarizing filter to cut through water reflections and enhance the already-vibrant colors of the Red Sea coral. In Asmara, the filter helped manage the intense highland sunlight while maintaining the subtle color variations in the city's modernist concrete structures.