Go Maldives:WHENEVER I HAVE been caught up in imaginings of a world where loveliness is on tap, and where pleasures and delights are offered at every turn, I have always dreamed of the Maldives. The world I am describing is, of course, purely an escapist one, writes Gemma Tipton
It’s far from mortgages, to-do lists, traffic jams and arguments with loved ones. In this world the global credit crunch is an abstract concept that doesn’t affect anyone’s lives, and the word “recession” can be applied only to the tide. The Maldives of my imagination have always been like Shangri-La or Hy- Brazil, and part of me wanted to keep them that way.
I first came across the idea of the islands – there are about 1,190 of them, although it’s a difficult figure to reckon, as the smallest appear and disappear with the vagaries of sea and shifting sands – when a friend’s uncle sold his company and made a fortune.
This was in the days before the internet, e-mail and mobile phones, and the thing that stands out in my memory from looking at the brochure was that staff at the resort he was going to would roll your fax messages into bamboo tubes and deliver them by boat to your opulent beach hut. I couldn’t get over the thought that you might travel halfway around the world in quest of paradise and sheer escapism yet still need access to a fax.
Things have changed, and changed utterly, and for many of my fellow travellers on Iru Fushi, in the northern Noonu Atoll of the Maldives, a mobile phone within hand’s reach seemed a must-have holiday accessory. Perhaps that’s the way you afford such luxury: unless you are born wealthy you have to work hard and constantly.
Actually, the Maldives aren’t such an impossible dream, even in these straitened times; it just depends how you look at holidays. When I was growing up we lived quite well but never went anywhere terribly expensive. Why would you scrimp and save all year to have a week’s blowout when you could have a lovely time for longer at home?
I have changed my mind on this recently; as I work harder and time seems in such short supply, wasting my hard-won week away by having a miserable experience in a grotty hotel seems to make less and less sense.
Another reason I had never thought of going to the Maldives is that it had always been marketed as a honeymoon destination, and as I’m an odd blend of romanticism and cynicism I couldn’t quite imagine wanting to be with someone on an island where there was nothing to do but gaze into his eyes and look at the sunset for a whole week.
Iru Fushi changed my mind about this, too. I packed so much into my trip that I could have done with another week there, and its romantic appeal is so strong that I was even considering the charms of eye-gazing.
Resorts in the Maldives have their own islands, so each is its own discrete world. This means you’re not experiencing true Maldivian culture, although you can take an excursion to nearby islands where locals live. What you are experiencing is tropical-island paradise, a world of your own, so it’s quite important to choose your paradise carefully.
The islands nearest the international airport at Malé are the most convenient, but the farther into the atolls you go the more secluded things get. Iru Fushi is one of the farthest, and initially, following a 10-hour journey from London Heathrow, the last thing I felt like was an extra flight. A walk on to the jetties where ranks of seaplanes waited was enough to change my mind, and the 45-minute trip over coral reefs, turquoise seas and enchanted islands that seemed to be made from emerald green and white gold was transporting in more ways than one.
So where to start with paradise? At risk of gushing, it was loveliness upon loveliness. My room was a Water Villa, reached by a boardwalk that rolled out on stilts on to the jewel-like lagoon. Double doors opened on to a terrace (complete with Jacuzzi), and private steps led down to the sea.
Too inviting for words after the long flight, I suddenly found I couldn’t wait for my bag to be delivered, so I peeled off everything down to bra and knickers and slid into the warmth of the tropical sea.
There’s that old joke where someone asks a man why he is banging his head against a wall; “because it’s so nice when I stop,” he replies. I don’t know if it would have been half so magical had I not just come off a long flight, but I will never forget the feeling I felt just then, as warm waters wrapped around me like a blanket of bliss.
I would experience something similar a few nights later, swimming in the moonlight, among dabs of phosphorescence that lit up the sea around me.
Returning to my room and stepping into a fluffy robe, I noticed some of the things my dash to the sea had caused me to miss, such as the glass panel in the floor, so I could see the waters below my bed, or the doors from the shower room that opened to create an open-air space, or the mask and snorkel thoughtfully left out for further swimming expeditions.
The other thing to strike me about the room was its total privacy. It’s rare to be in a hotel or resort and be unaware of your neighbours, but in the Maldives this is pretty standard – and is one of the reasons for its popularity as a honeymoon destination, I’m sure. The beach villas have their own beach access and private cabanas (they also have amazing outdoor bathrooms), while the privacy of the water villas is interrupted only by distant snorkellers on the reefs.
Iru Fushi, which has 180 villas and suites, is one of the larger resort islands, and this is a plus. You can walk the perimeter of the island in about half an hour. The size prevents you from getting a sense of cabin fever, but the design means that even at full occupancy it never feels crowded. It has been built around existing vegetation, so sandy paths wind around mature banana trees, jasmine and bougainvillea, and the island’s restaurants are spread out, to keep you exploring.
On the other hand, if you were really throwing money at your trip, and chose, for example, one of the suites with a private pool, or even the “celebrity suite” with two swimming pools, one of them in the bathroom, I’m not sure you’d ever need to leave your own enclosure, even for meals, as they will deliver – or, if you prefer, set up a table for you anywhere on the island that you desire.
I was torn between the charms of my space and the full programme of activities on offer. Activity won, and I tried my hand at catamaran sailing, where I learned to work with the wind and sail up the track of the setting sun. A snorkelling trip took us out in a boat where we came upon a pod of dolphins. Out of nowhere hundreds appeared, and played alongside us as we headed for the best reefs. Snorkelling is amazing: one minute you are in the world of air and sun, and then, looking down, the most incredible life appears: multicoloured fish, glowing corals and the blues of the water create an undreamt-of magic.
Swimming at the edge of the reef, as the water drops to shadowy depths, you can dimly see darker larger shapes, which Tim Ecott, who was one of our group, and who is a bit of a dive guru, later told me were sharks.
For the highly energetic there are waterskiing and wakeboarding. Wakeboarding involves being towed behind a speed boat on a board that is a little like a snowboard. This means, when you think about it, that it should really be called waterboarding, but since Guantánamo Bay it obviously couldn’t be.
On a more relaxing note, the spa is fantastic: each room is a pavilion in a beautiful garden, and there are Ayurvedic treatments, St Barth products and one of those massages where people walk on your back. Book in advance and you can avail of a week-long sleep-therapy course involving sleep analysis, massages, yoga, special pillows, baths, teas and drinks. At $1,700 (€1,320) for the full course, you would want to have been kept awake by fairly expensive problems.
A sunset fishing trip saw us dropping lines into the night waters and catching red snapper and grouper before turning for home and having them barbecued for our dinner.
While we waited I chatted to some of the hotel staff. The Maldivians I met were gorgeous, lovely and gentle people; many Sri Lankans and Filipinos also work there. The original population of the islands is descended from Sri Lankan, and other, fishermen.
You only scratch the surface of a culture on a brief visit to a tourist destination, but the Maldives, as I discovered, is an Islamic country: “100% Muslim” as the hotel literature unequivocally puts it. (The country was once Buddhist; Islam was introduced in the 12th century.)
This means that topless sunbathing is banned, but a pragmatism based on the country’s reliance on tourism finds no problem with small bikinis and large alcoholic drinks.
I also learned that Islam does not allow dogs and that the bacon at breakfast was based on beef, not pork.
This also means that those honeymooners who also want to have their wedding there can have a ceremony, but not a religious one (unless it is Muslim).
None of this really impinged on my consciousness. I was aware that, until recently, the human-rights record of the Maldives had been suspect but that this has changed with the election of a new president, who was once a political prisoner. But, probably due to the nature of the place – you are, after all, on an island dedicated to your delight – the outside world and its difficulties and dilemmas seem like another planet.
So were there any problems with paradise? You have to resign yourself to island time, where the concept of being in a hurry is pretty alien.
Also, the fact that you are on a one-resort island means that while there is no ugliness – no oil refinery just cropped out of the tourist-brochure shot, for example – you are also limited to the resort’s resources. A note in the room warns not to drink the water, but as you must pay for mineral water you might feel a little imposed on.
Equally, you inevitably bring some of your own heaven (or hell) with you on holiday. Strolling around the island, we watched a young couple ahead of us. Walking through all this idyllic bliss, she kept trying to catch at her partner’s (or husband’s) hand, and as he continued to shrug her off we started to wonder what would possess you to travel to the ends of the earth only to argue.
Air travel is disorientating, and returning to find Ireland in the grip of icy weather, and watching my tan fade as stress levels rose again, it was difficult to believe that somewhere in the middle of the ocean, halfway around the world, people were waking up in the Maldives, opening their curtains to paradise, and, even though it was just a week of bliss snatched from a busy life, storing up memories to see them through the winter.
Is it worth the money? Yes, if you have it, and, yes, if you can save it up. Would I go again? In the blink of an eye.
What to do on a Maldivian resort holiday, and when to go
What to do
If you're the type to get tired of staring into your companion's eyes, or being pampered to within an inch of your life in the resort's glorious spa, there's plenty more to do. Dive the coral reefs, go snorkelling, try your hand at catamaran sailing, banana boating, waterskiing, wakeboarding or windsurfing, go fishing at sunset, or take a boat trip to discover dolphins at play.
There are also two swimming pools, a kids' club, a golf simulator, tennis courts, table tennis, pool and even karaoke.
Before you go, book a jet-lag massage at the spa for the evening of your arrival. I was sceptical, but it really works.
Have a sundowner at the pool at Reflections. The waters turn into a mirror, and you can lose yourself in their depths.
Sleep with your windows open or, even better, outside on the daybed on the deck, and wake to the sounds of the sea.
If you're feeling romantically inclined, surprise your loved one and order a special bath. I returned one evening to find an aromatic bath had been drawn, and filled with candles and flowers.
Investigate and ask: there are delights at every turn, gorgeous bars, wonderful restaurants, so try everything.
Paradise lost?
The Maldives hit the headlines at the end of last year, when the newly elected president, Mohamed Nasheed, announced a plan to create a fund from the profits of tourism to purchase land elsewhere, should rising sea levels threaten the existence of the islands, and their 380,000 inhabitants, in the future. The plan is a long-term one for a worst-case scenario, but, as the president put it, "we do not want to be climate-change refugees living in tents". Most of the Maldives are just a metre and a half above sea level. Many news reports remarked that the president had no plans to cut polluting long-haul flights, which seems a bit unfair, as global warming has not been caused by this tiny cluster of islands.
When to go
As the Maldives are equatorial, temperatures are a fairly constant 25 to 30 degrees throughout the year, cooled by sea breezes. The best time to visit is between November and April, when the weather is driest. The wettest months are June and August, when the rain can be torrential. There can be downpours during the dry months, but they never last for long.
Time and money
The Maldivian currency is the rufiyaa, but prices on Iru Fushi are quoted in US dollars, and it's a cashless resort: charge everything to your room and settle on departure. The language is Dhivehi, although English is spoken everywhere. Local time is five hours ahead of GMT. You don't need a prior visa for the Maldives. Don't stock up in duty-free, as you may not import alcohol.
Go there
Gemma Tipton flew to the Maldives via London Heathrow on SriLankan Airlines, as a guest of Sun Hotels & Resorts and Tropical Sky. Tropical Sky (www.tropicalsky.ie, 01-5262566, 068-56800) is offering seven nights half-board at Iru Fushi Beach & Spa Resort from €1,498pp, based on two people sharing a Jacuzzi Beach Villa (Water Villa supplement about €330pps).