Splashing out in the Maldives 

By Jeremy Torr

I sat on the deck of my thatched villa, listening to wavelets slap gently against the supporting poles. The nearest island was a speck on the horizon; the only sounds those of the sea and a warm breeze rustling the palm thatch. A baby shark swam slowly under my feet; tail tip flicking in the glass-clear water, stirring up tiny plumes of pure white sand. This, I said to myself is what a perfect destination should be. Total tranquility.

I think it was Robert Louis Stevenson who said that he traveled not to go anywhere, but just to go. “I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move,” he counseled famously.

It’s a good thing RLS wasn’t on the Hilton’s Rangali Island with us. I could barely twitch, let alone make any significant movements. That afternoon’s fine dining at the Vilu restaurant, topped off with ginger pudding and cream, was enough to make me loath to run about. Then there was the pampering spa and all those relaxing oils and unguents and fragrant candles. And the masseuse that came to our villa to turn me into a jelly-textured vegetable using a host of cunning acupressure moves. I felt as energetic and keen on the joys of movement as a sea cucumber.

But you know, old Robert Louis had a point. The journey to Rangali was an experience in itself, one definitely not to be missed. We had taken the usual sardine-can trip to the Maldives’ capital, Male, courtesy of Boeing. The airport was a treat—wooden check-in desks staffed by handsome, smiling, black-eyed Madivians, under low roofs complete with swooping swallows (inside). Definitely not Changi.

But this was just the first leg. To get to Rangali, some 150 miles to the south, we had to catch a taxi. A taxi operated by a driver in bare feet, wearing shorts, and playing cards at a wicker table by the side of the runway. The driver, Will, startled us by telling us our taxi cruised at about 200kph and took 16 people. It was in fact a twin engined floatplane taxi which bobbed in the water by the side of the runway, amongst about twenty of its brethren, all ready to ferry holidaymakers to the remotest Maldivian islands. 

This, said Will, was the busiest seaplane port in the world, serving many of the nearly 2,000 islands scattered about the Maldivian archipelago. I believed him. In a few minutes we were airborne, carving across the harbour and south to Rangali. We buzzed along above the clearest, bluest water I have ever seen. Tiny islands peeled by to left and right (sorry Will, port and starboard) as we headed south. The occasional thatched hut on stilts could be seen jutting out from a palm-fringed white sand beach, signaling yet another luxury hideaway—there are about 90 scattered across the many Maldivian atolls.

Before long the plane was creaming twin furrows across the Rangali Island lagoon, home to the Hilton and so much luxury it would (as mentioned) render me totally inert for the next few days. Life can be tough, I mused, as we climbed out of the plane to grasp a cooling cocktail from a waiting waiter.

A golf buggy took us along a wooden walkway out over the sea to our villa. It had about four rooms – I can’t remember exactly; they were so spacious it was hard to say where they started and finished. A single remote control operated the multi-option mood lighting, the aircon and ceiling fans, the wooden blinds and the shutters, all from a reclining position on the emperor sized bed. The bathroom had glass floor panels so we could watch the fish glide below as we washed or applied makeup, or just splashed water on our tired faces . . .

The adjoining massage room came with its own surround sound system. The main doors opened onto a totally private terrace so we could literally roll out of bed in the morning and onto a lounger, or into the sea if we felt slightly more active and wanted to get close to the dolphins in the lagoon.

The breakfast restaurant, Mandhoo, was a five-minute walk down the decking walkway. Little pots of water with ladles were provided by the side of the boardwalk so we could cool our feet if the boards got too hot. And of course, we could watch yet more aquatic life glide by under our feet – I think a couple of stingrays and thousands of parrot fish was about right. Not exactly the Singapore River.

After some wandering about the motor-free, powder-fine sand pathways (there are no roads on the island) we had a swim or two, went diving with the sharks, visited a local island community and sampled the delicious international buffet at the Atoll restaurant. Then a brief snorkeling safari and some well-earned lazing on the beach listening to the waves stroke the pristine sands.

But the piece de resistance was surely dinner at the Ithaa restaurant. This is a very exclusive eatery (it offers only twelve twin tables), not just for the food but also for its situation. It sits in a huge transparent tube on the bottom of the Rangali lagoon, which means you eat as stingrays, eels, even sharks glide by your elbow. And of course there are thousands of other brilliantly coloured fish swarming around to keep you mesmerized while you try to appreciate a 2001 Grand Cru Classe St Emilion Chateau La Tour Fegeac Bordeaux and some poached chicken breast stuffed with dates and lime, on a bed of spicy Maldivian paste. The meal itself features over 20 dishes and can only be described as a truly inspired blend of Maldivian and international cuisine to the highest standard. A far cry from Newton Circus.

All too soon our stay was over, but the total pampering, the complete absence of anybody trying to sell souvenirs (although there are some discreet shops on offer), the privacy of our villa and the amazing friendliness of the staff had us yearning for a return visit.

As we waited for the air taxi back to Male, we chatted to a couple from England, Reg and Wendy. “This is the eighth time we have been,” said Wendy happily. “We love it. We are definitely coming back again next year.”

Robert Louis would have been pleased with all that traveling. But not what they did once they had arrived. “We stay for five days. And we do absolutely nothing every time we come. It’s fantastic.”