Discover the best time of year, based on historical climate, temperature, and precipitation.
The best weather in Aqaba is from March, November, December. — consistent weather climate
🌡Hot & dry
| Score | 85 | 95 | 98 | 86 | 59 | 44 | 34 | 33 | 44 | 81 | 99 | 98 |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Climate | Mild | Mild | Pleasant | Pleasant | Hot & dry | Hot & dry | Hot & dry | Hot & dry | Hot & dry | Hot & dry | Pleasant | Mild |
| Temperature | 10–20°C | 11–22°C | 14–26°C | 18–31°C | 22–35°C | 25–38°C | 26–40°C | 27–39°C | 25–37°C | 21–32°C | 17–27°C | 12–22°C |
| Feels like | 8–17°C | 9–19°C | 12–23°C | 16–29°C | 21–33°C | 25–37°C | 27–39°C | 28–39°C | 26–36°C | 22–31°C | 16–25°C | 11–19°C |
| Precipitation | 6mm 1 days | 10mm 2 days | 9mm 1 days | 3mm 0 days | 2mm 0 days | 0mm 0 days | 0mm 0 days | 0mm 0 days | 0mm 0 days | 2mm 0 days | 2mm 1 days | 3mm 1 days |
| Sunshine | 9.5h ☀︎ 90% | 9.8h ☀︎ 88% | 10.9h ☀︎ 91% | 11.9h ☀︎ 92% | 12.6h ☀︎ 93% | 13.1h ☀︎ 93% | 13.1h ☀︎ 95% | 12.6h ☀︎ 95% | 11.4h ☀︎ 93% | 10.8h ☀︎ 94% | 10.0h ☀︎ 93% | 9.3h ☀︎ 90% |
| Wind | N · 15 km/h | N · 16 km/h | N · 17 km/h | N · 19 km/h | N · 19 km/h | N · 20 km/h | N · 19 km/h | N · 19 km/h | N · 20 km/h | N · 18 km/h | N · 16 km/h | N · 14 km/h |
| Humidity (%) | 53% | 50% | 42% | 34% | 30% | 32% | 33% | 38% | 43% | 49% | 51% | 54% |
| Day length | 10.5h | 11.2h | 12.0h | 12.9h | 13.6h | 14.0h | 13.8h | 13.2h | 12.3h | 11.4h | 10.7h | 10.3h |
The consensus calendar tells you to head for Jordan's only coastline in November and December, but March delivers the exact same shimmering Red Sea days without the crushing winter crowds.
Aqaba does not behave like the rest of Jordan. While the kingdom's interior is defined by wind-sculpted sandstone gorges and high desert plateaus, this southern outpost exists entirely for the water. Pinched between arid granite peaks and the indigo deep of the Gulf of Aqaba, it is Jordan's sole maritime door, an ancient trading shore where travelers have shaken off the grit of the trade routes since antiquity. Most people arrive here after long days scrambling through the rose-red facades of Petra or sleeping under the sheer cliffs of Wadi Rum, craving salt water, fresh air, and an easy seat by the tide. But when you arrive matters intensely, because the narrow strip of coast shifts rapidly from an open, sun-warmed paradise into an overcrowded haven or a scorching furnace.
If you ask a travel agent when to visit Jordan's southern tip, they will invariably point you toward the late autumn. They are looking at temperature charts in a vacuum, ignoring what actually happens along the shore. By late autumn, every tour bus descending from Amman and Petra empties out onto the Corniche, boat charters book solid weeks ahead, and the shoreline hums with frantic peak-season energy.
March, by contrast, is the destination's best-kept secret. The winter chill has departed, the afternoon breeze off the Gulf of Aqaba is gentle rather than biting, and the air settles into a glorious sweet spot where a light linen shirt is all you need from breakfast until midnight. Apparent temperatures hover right around the mid-twenties. You can step into the water at South Beach without gasping, dive the fringing coral reefs without ducking beneath flotillas of day-trippers, and wander the ruins of ancient Ayla in peaceful quiet.
April continues this brilliant run, though the heat begins to gather serious momentum toward the end of the month. The mornings remain crisp and invigorating, but midday begins to demand shade, ice, and a quiet balcony. If you want the full sensory indulgence of the Red Sea without feeling like an extra in an overcrowded resort film, this early spring stretch is the only time to go.
By late May, the desert presses right up against the water and refuses to yield. The sun over the Gulf is blinding and direct, bleached of moisture, turning the granite hills into natural radiant heaters that trap the warmth well past dark. Highs routinely breach the high thirties and touch forty degrees Celsius, and the apparent temperature barely relents even when the sun dips behind the Sinai mountains across the bay.
Life in the city adapts to survive the glare. Between eleven in the morning and five in the afternoon, the streets around the historic center and the Aqaba Church excavation sites fall utterly silent. Pavement radiates heat so intensely that wandering on foot becomes an ordeal. The only acceptable posture is submerged in the sea, preferably drifting along the drop-offs of the coral reefs where the water temperature offers true relief.
Evenings bring a slow, theatrical resurrection. As the sun sets, families claim every square foot of public waterfront, pulling out thermoses of sweet sage tea, folding chairs, and tobacco pipes. The sea breeze picks up, though it often feels like opening an oven door until deep into the night. It is a raw, intensely local time to experience the town, but unless your entire agenda is scuba diving and sleeping through the daylight hours, the summer heat will conquer you.
October begins the thaw in reverse, softening the harsh desert burn into pleasant warmth, but November and December are when the floodgates truly burst. Weather-wise, these months are practically flawless. The air is silky, midday temperatures sit comfortably in the mid-twenties, and the intense northern desert winds have not yet gained their midwinter bite. It is easy to see why travel guides swoon over this period.
The catch is that the entire world arrives to share it with you. November and December represent the absolute summit of local and international tourism. The coastal road fills with traffic, dive boats jostle for moorings over the sunken shipwrecks and coral gardens, and waterfront promenades become wall-to-wall processions. The laid-back, sleepy harbor charm that makes this town special gets buried beneath the sheer volume of visitors fleeing colder northern latitudes.
If you travel now, you trade peaceful mornings for vibrant street energy. The seafood stalls are roaring, the town is electric, and the weather will not disappoint a single expectation. Just be prepared to negotiate your personal space at every step, and understand that you are seeing the city at its most crowded and commercial pitch.
January and February bring a different personality to the coast. This is the coolest stretch of the year, with daytime air settling around twenty degrees Celsius and brisk winds sweeping down through the rift valley from the interior. For northern visitors escaping sleet and snow, it can still feel like a mild, restorative spring; for locals, it is down-jacket weather.
The Red Sea stays remarkably stable, retaining warmth from the summer months, but the transition from water back to breezy shore requires a thick towel and swift footing. Swimming is entirely possible, especially in sheltered coves, though fewer casual bathers brave the spray. Instead, these months belong to walkers, history enthusiasts, and those who want to use the coast as a quiet, inexpensive launchpad for day trips into the dramatic red sands of Wadi Rum.
Evenings in midwinter are sharply cold, demanding wool layers as soon as the sun disappears. The town is delightfully unhurried, cafe terraces run gas heaters beside outdoor tables, and the water laps against empty docks under crystalline desert stars. It lacks the sultry beach holiday ease of spring, but its stillness is deeply rewarding.