The Maldives

It is fair to say any trip to The Maldives wasn’t remotely in our crosshairs of future travel. One it didn’t involve a van, and two, it was on the other side of the planet with nothing more to do than relax in the sun and drink cocktails. On reflection, it was perhaps the second point cementing our decision to visit the island nation. An outrageously cheap post covid deal was bumped up to our expected levels of luxury with the inclusion of an over water bure. The thinking being where else in the world would you want to stay in an over water bure? It was similarly bolstered with the addition of an all inclusive food and drinks package. Again, the thinking being after downloading a menu that by 2:35pm on day three we would be in the black and playing with house money. This ultimately proved true - but we did give it a healthy nudge to be sure.

Departing Singapore on another gin soaked transit of the Indian Ocean, we arrived in the capital Male right on midday. Located 3,500km west of Singapore and 1,800km due south of Mumbai, Male is smack bang on the equator and quite literally in the middle of the ocean. The Maldivian Archipelago is located on a vast submarine mountain range called the Chagos-Laccadive ridge and consists of 1,192 coral islands grouped in a double chain of 26 atolls stretching 900km by 130km. With an average ground elevation of 1.5 metres above sea level, and a highest natural point of only 2.4 meters, The Maldives is the world's lowest lying country.

Alighting an international terminal not dissimilar to Dubbo train station circa 1848, we were swiftly ushered to the exclusive sea plane transfer lounge. Months before, when the nitty gritty of this trip was taking shape, we discovered a direct seaplane island transfer for a meagre USD120. We conveniently reasoned if visiting The Maldives - pretty much a once in a lifetime type of deal - then what better way to arrive than by seaplane - pretty much a not too often in a lifetime type of deal. It was a no-brainer really and what’s another couple of hundred on the tab hey!

It was here the Maldivian lifestyle emerged as the skipper and first officer slapped across the wooden boarding deck in their designer Havaiana’s while hand loading our bags behind the aircraft seats like it was a coastal road trip in the family commodore. As they fired up the donks on the Twin Otter seaplane, a portly little chap in matching apparel gave his best inflight safety demonstration. Consisting mainly of pointing at a life jacket then explaining there was a bottle of water and moist towelette for everyone, we pretty much got the gist of it and buckled up accordingly. Within seconds we were airborne and making our way south to Dhaalu Atoll.

At height the true beauty of The Maldives becomes evident with a rhythmic colour palette of deep blue ocean, white wave crests, turquoise lagoons and crystal white sands forming in circular patterns as we journeyed 1.5 degrees closer to the equator. Swinging around Kandima Island to check the landing site, we spied our accomodation, both resort pools and miles of bone white beaches amidst the slightly darkened afternoon monsoonal skies usually present this time of year. After splashing down we boarded the resort speed boat for a short journey to the welcome jetty where all that was missing was a white vested Tattoo advising Mr Roarke that “the plane” had arrived. Stepping into a postcard, we flicked off our shoes, not to be seen again until our departure, and sipped a welcoming cocktail while collecting keys and receiving instruction on the machinations of the island.

Our final mode of transport for the day, a golf cart, meandered through the tropical, sand covered tracks dissecting the island assaulting us with an incredible range of greens and blues stretching as far as the eye could see. Bumping onto boardwalk then stopping 6 fingers into the tentacles of overwater bungalows, we entered a simple room with breath taking views. It wasn’t long before Fatpap divested himself of his travelling attire and plunged into the crystal clear waters from our bungalow deck. Resurfacing, he triumphantly exclaimed - “It’s the fucking Maldives!”

Having showered and changed, we set out to explore the island and quite fortuitously found a bar only metres from our accomodations. It would be rude not to pop in and say hello we reasoned, so we pulled up a pew and got the local goss from a Birmingham geezer who was on her last night of 10 on the island. We dined that night in one of the 5 island restaurants and finished with cocktails by the beach as inclement weather closed out our first day in paradise.

The frenetic pace of Singapore had us perfectly honed for a week of nothing. No 15km walking days, no cultural overload. Yet, there was something simmering beneath the surface. The Maldives isn’t what we expected. The gentleness, the peace… its something people say about Fiji but its not the same. This was our first foray into a Muslim country so we anticipated decorum and moderation. Thankfully, on the moderation front, we were thoroughly disappointed. Our exhausted city bodies were somewhat grateful to be met by inclement weather however day 2 saw the rain tire of its vertical descent deciding a more horizontal approach was required. Fatpap scheduled a sleep in while Lyndall gingerly ventured out for a massage. Returning relaxed but drenched, it was time to seek out further cocktails. As the weather began to clear and the surrounding waters took on their magical hue, the drinks appeared just as magically. So much for moderation.

The cocktail list whilst not overly exotic, was more than adequate - that is they all contained alcohol - and took us only a day to conquer top to bottom as a means of, shall we say, taste testing. From there it was a matter of occasion and we quite dutifully selected each thereafter based on appropriateness. At one point Fatpap proudly drank through the island inventory of dry ginger ale with his eminent scotch and drys. But rather than endeavour to describe each and how they slotted into our daily island schedule, perhaps it is best we just show you.

One of the first things that strikes being marooned in the Indian Ocean is the stillness. The peace, the tranquility of the island. The only sound the gentle lapping of waves on the sand or ice cubes circling the inside of a glass. Our shoulders seemed to drop several inches and we developed a slower strolling pace relaxing into island life. No sightseeing to do, no crowds, no rushing to claim sun-beds. No traipsing to the beach laden with all the necessities. The only choice was shall we wander to the beach bar for a cocktail or have it delivered? Should we grab our snorkels and walk the few steps to the sea or book a boat to take us dolphin-spotting? Which restaurant will we eat at tonight? Tropical Bliss!

We adjusted to Maldivian life immediately. It was only a short walk along the beach to the bars, restaurants and activity centres, but when that seemed too much there were always the bikes and ever faithful thunderbird-like golf carts to take us wherever we desired. Each day soon merged seamlessly into another with the only difference waking up slightly later than the day before. Morning walk, breakfast, pool, cocktails, lunch, sleep, read, swim, cocktails, shower, dinner, cocktails, evening walk, sleep, repeat. You get the idea. In essence the most strenuous activity was putting on weight.

There were however some notable exceptions to this routine. On our second night after a full day of sun drinking, oops, sun bathing and a fantastic dinner at the islands premier restaurant, we followed with more cocktails in the beach bar dancing and singing to the resident house band. The walk to our bure was only a 20 minute journey beach side. However on this occasion we arrived home at 2:30am after leaving the bar at midnight. Only through meta data collected via a series of goofy photos can we account for our activities, and then, less than half of the time. Clearly there was a dodgy prawn in the entree.

On possibly the most perfect day we’d had in The Maldives, we timed the tides and walked the 2.5km path to the islands northern spit. Here a break in the coral atoll saw waters rush between ocean and lagoon with waves meeting on either side of a sand peninsular. Following the white sand highway from the resort kerbed by turquoise blue waters, reef sharks and a myriad of sealife followed as we splashed our burning feet through the lightly lapping waves. Breaking through a small sanctuary of coconut palms, we found the spit and were the only souls within miles. We spent the morning wallowing in the small lagoon spotting birdlife, sealife and sand critters oblivious to anything, or anyone else in the world.

In yet another break of tradition, we booked ourselves a morning of snorkelling. Kandima Resort has its very own permanent diving platform within the lagoon located about 700 meters off shore. After being fitted for all appropriate equipment, we walked out to the welcoming jetty and boarded a pontoon boat with a few other guests. Navigating through the coral structures beneath, we docked at the platform and pretty much jumped straight into it. A further 200 metres out was “the drop off”, but the promise of deeper waters and larger sea creatures was actually more a deterrent than incentive for us. We stayed closer to our guides and explored for hours in only metres deep crystal clear waters where colourful reef fish swam between coral and anemone.

Over the week we ticked most of the islands activities but honestly, the majority of the time was spent reading on the beach or by the pool, choosing a cocktail, or napping in the afternoon in whatever cabana we’d plonked ourselves in. But that was the point of this holiday. We of course had our cameras the whole time but discovered by day 2 this close to the equator sunrise and sunset where pretty much a non event. So what was left? How many different perspectives of paradise can you shoot without it becoming repetitive? Perhaps you good reader might answer that better than we can.

So after a week our time came to an end. A speedboat ride, a small bus journey, a island hopping flight, another jet back to Singapore then the homeward leg south to Sydney saw us on the road for over 24 hours where we managed to see the moon rise over Male and then again when returning to Sydney. So was it worth it? Is the Maldives everything they say it is?

You bet it is. The Maldives is like no other “beach” destination we have been to. The waters, the sand and the people are unique in themself and the mere fact they sit isolated literally in the middle of the Indian Ocean makes the destination outwardly more attractive. Nothing of bother further than the cocktail bar only metres from your sand encrusted tanned feet. It’s a long way to go and frightfully expensive to boot, but well and truly worth it as one of those “once in a lifetime” type of experiences. Would we return? There’s no need. We have done it already and have a list of plenty more places around the globe ready to be equally experienced. But if forced, of course we’d return. It was simply magical.

So again faithful reader, thank you for coming on this journey with us. We hope the words and images might perhaps inspire. As you may have deduced the next Fatpaparazzi adventure is onto the subcontinent as we journey to India in March 2023. We are seriously looking forward to some very special photography on that trip.

Check out our gallery for all our best images and help us fund another awesome trip. You know you want a Fatpaparazzi original all to yourself.

Hope you’ve enjoyed the ride.

Peter & Lyndall

Singapore, The Sling