The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
The Maldives is beach island paradise – but it’s not for me
Suzanne Moore’s trip to a luxury wellness resort that promised a ‘transformational journey’ brought about a sense of inner discovery in more ways than she had imagined
Before I went off to Joali Being, an ultra-hip wellness resort in the Maldives, I filled in a questionnaire. This wasn’t just a holiday apparently but a “transformational journey”, so they wanted to customise a programme for this “nature immersive wellbeing island”. My goal was basic. Heat, sea and sundowners. But Joali Being is set up for guests to return home with a new sense of “weightlessness”. Yikes. Maybe I would merely float away.
They asked me which of the four pillars of wellbeing I wanted to concentrate on: mind, skin, microbiome or energy. Skin and energy seemed reasonable, as it is way too late for my mind. And it’s hard to be excited about what goes on in my gut – though I was very excited, albeit afraid, of the actual journey. I have never been on a seaplane before, and it was a 40-minute flight from Malé to Bodufushi Island and Joali Being.
It turns out that the seaplane was a complete thrill, as my fear of a plane dropping out of the sky lessened as we took off and landed on water, and the view of all the tiny islands that make up the Maldives is truly once in a lifetime stuff.
So is the arrival at this incredible jetty, a huge sculptural swirling masterpiece called the Gate of Zero, inspired by the spinning skirts of Sufi mystics and designed by celebrated Turkish artist Seckin Pirim. The owndrous. ers of the resort are Turkish and this really is a masterpiece.
It signifies liberating the soul and unshackling oneself from the ego. Newage chat in high-end places is somewhat odd – but that, as I was about to discover, is because I have bad habits.
The staff could not have been more welcoming, and I was to have my own butler – always good for unshackling the ego, having your own servant. At Joali they are called “jadugars”, which in Dhivehi means “skilled magician”. My jadugar was Dubby and he gave me a Nokia burner to call him whenever I needed. He drove me in a buggy to my villa and, my God, it was all incredible.
My own infinity pool overlooking the ocean. High ceilings, a huge bed, indoor and outdoor showers all superbly designed – but I already felt awkward, because although in some fantasy world I might want a butler, in reality I don’t. Worse, I could not even remember how to make calls on a Nokia.
The perfection of the place is undeniable. Actual white sand. The endless ocean, the nature. Everything you imagine paradise to be. Never mind the restaurants, the impeccable staff, the state-of-the-art gym and the treatments.
I had the signature massage. The masseuse told me at the beginning: “You are seen. You are heard. You are supported.”
The therapeutic vibe of it all is something to which you feel obliged to respond. When she was rubbing my belly – a thing I don’t like because I am uptight – she poked her finger in hard – ouch! – and said I was carrying a lot of negativity and that every morning I should greet myself in the mirror with the words, “I love you, Suzanne”.
The jet lag made me blurt out: “But I am English.”
There were no TVs in the room. You are meant to switch off and indeed you wake to a view that is absolutely wonBreakfast is amazing, the best I’ve ever had. Much of the food is sustainably sourced, fresh, fabulous and calorie-counted – but I was off for a lifestyle assessment. The doctor plugged me into a bio-resonance machine which said everything in my body was in balance. I liked him a lot, but then he gave me his notes – “Poor eating habits. Circadian rhythms. Disturbed sleep. Emotional holding patterns.”
He offered to do some breathing with me. How could I refuse?
It’s a tiny island so I quickly got to know it: the incredible spa, two restaurants, a marine biology centre. Yoga classes. If you are into diving, this is heaven. There are big villas that have their own kitchens and gyms.
You can do as much or as little as you like. One day I made my own perfume, which was rather lovely. Sound therapy turned out to be intense but special, as though I had my own private orchestra; I really loved it. Breathing with the doctor – proper yoga breathing, that is – I found terribly difficult, embarrassing and somehow exhausting.
After a day or so, though, I found myself hankering for some sense of culture, or even place, and a gin and tonic. I felt I was nowhere or anywhere. Is this the job of super-luxe resorts I wondered, this kind of detachment? Is this my problem? The doctor had told me I was too attached to the external world so I went to him and said, “I feel lost.”
This was apparently because I was having to face myself.
At that point I worked out how to use the Nokia and got Dubby to get me a gin, which cost a fortune. One day I took a 15-minute speed boat ride across choppy water to the sister Joali resort, which permits children and alcohol. Really I wanted to go to Malé, the crowded capital, to see how people actually live.
Aimy, the charming manager who is from the Maldives, took me to dinner and I loved hearing about life on the islands. Though this is an Islamic culture, most marriages only last about three years as it is very easy to get divorced. She explained the many influences that make up the language and we spoke of the crisis in Sri Lanka.
The concept of letting go and just “being” is one that governs the resort. In my wardrobe, apart from stunning kimonos, there were linen pyjama-type things that the staff wear.
“Executives,” she explained, “are often so stressed that this is part of making it easier for them. You don’t have to make a choice about clothes.”
Wow, I thought, that’s insane. By day four, and partly because I had so many mosquito bites, I was in the bloody uniform.
New things did happen to me. As there was nothing to do in the evenings, I started playing the xylophone in my room. There was a bike with my name on it outside. I swam a lot, and tried to do the mindful stuff, which the doctor had recommended. For two minutes at a time. I even did a tea tasting!
The most fantastic thing, though, was the Watsu treatment. I got in a pool, and an incredibly skilful therapist stretched me – sort of shiatsu in water. I became absolutely blissed out, mentally and physically, as if I were floating in amniotic fluid. Simply wonderful – the “letting go” was real.
Which was just as well, because during a facial I got a bit of unexpected reiki. Why? Apparently, I have “too much masculine energy”. My heart chakra needs work. Whatevs.
You go with the flow of all this, or you don’t – and all I can say is, I tried. It is the most beautiful and luxurious place ever. Every detail has been thought through. It is a retreat from the world. I would recommend Joali Being to anyone who genuinely wants to get away from it all. For that, it is incredible – perfect.
But I realised that I want to be in the world, even if that world is chaotic and not idyllic, and doesn’t come with a butler.
The strangest thing was that every day I was coming out in more and more itchy red spots which I presumed to be bites. When I showed the doctor he gave me some special cream they made there. Everything is natural and sustainable. Yet even on the flight home the rash was getting worse, so I went to my pharmacist upon my return.
“You are having an allergic reaction,” he said, giving me antihistamines.
“But what to?” I asked.
He didn’t know, but secretly, I did. Paradise.