SEAS THE DAY
Don’t put off that dream vacation to paradise! If possible, go now
Ayear ago, I almost got engaged. Instead, the 4½-year-long relationship ended. Amid apartment moves and counseling sessions and therapeutic runs, I stared at a blank Google calendar once filled with dinner dates, birthday parties and — most important for a couple who shared a passion for off-the-beaten-path adventure — trips abroad.
After the breakup, though, I wanted to keep traveling. Forget traditional beach locales like the Caribbean or the south of France. I wanted to get as far away as I could. If I fly 8,000 miles away from my daily life, I reasoned, maybe I will feel more like myself again. More curious, more confident and maybe, just maybe, content. The exoticism would, somehow, shake me back to normalcy.
And, my gosh, I’m lucky. My job as the travel editor at The Post enables me to explore the world during those precious vacation days and write about the results. (Thankfully, I am often hosted by new hotels on these jaunts, which makes them financially feasible.) I sized up my dream destination: the Maldives. I had fantasized about honeymooning in the Indian Ocean archipelago for a decade. Frequented by couples celebrating
a milestone and A-list celebrities, the low-lying cluster of isles southwest of India and Sri Lanka is hard to get to, pricey and, as the kids say, so extra. All-inclusive resorts full of villas take up entire islands that are ringed by pristine white-sand beaches surrounded by water so blue it looks like a Photoshopped screensaver.
Initially, I balked at such a trek. Excuses abounded: It’s too far. It’s too extravagant. It’s going to be full of moony-eyed lovebirds, so I’ll be sad. But most of all, I told myself, I don’t deserve this.
But then I had a change of heart. The Maldives are often cited as a prime victim of sea level rise — the president famously held a cabinet meeting underwater in 2009 — and I didn’t want to wait anymore. Why should I twiddle my thumbs until I get married to take a bucket-list trip? An arbitrary life event shouldn’t dictate my PTO. And if I learned anything from the breakup, it’s that you can’t wait on someone or something else to go after the things that you want.
So I went. I flew Cathay Pacific to the capital city of Male via Hong Kong, a 24hour journey that starts at about $1,000 roundtrip. Two new resorts — the
Standard, Huruvalhi Maldives, and the Waldorf Astoria Ithaafushi — made the trip possible by inviting me to check them out firsthand.
The majority of the Maldives’ 200 inhabited islands are so small that it’s impossible to land a traditional aircraft. Enter the seaplane: Trans Maldivian Airways operates a fleet of 56 propeller-ed gems — often helmed by pilots sporting shorts, shades and (much to passengers’ delight) no shoes — that shuttle visitors to and from countless idyllic resorts.
The two I saw were no exception. The trendy Standard brand has beloved hotels in New York, Miami, LA and London, but the November-opened Maldives property is its only resort (from $475/night; use the code OASIS at StandardHotels.com). The seaplane landed beside a floating pontoon, where a speedboat waited to whisk me off. I was one of the first guests to walk the curved boardwalks connecting rainbow-colored overwater bungalows to a street art-covered spa building and a small island with a main pool and restaurants.
All-white snorkeling gear and a bright pink inner tube hang on the walls of the 115 modern
rooms. Every morning before breakfast, I donned a mask, fins and a life jacket to swim along the reef located just 10 freestyle strokes from the ladder that descended from my villa directly into the balmy water. Surrounded by schools of colorful fish, I could hear my own breathing, steady and becoming more assured. It was bliss.
The Waldorf Astoria, meanwhile, is closer to Male. Immaculate staffers escort passengers through the fray of the arrivals hall and onto a waiting yacht, docked just outside the airport. The sight is staggering: A newly constructed resort, opened July 1, with 122 villas arranged in a C shape (from $1,700/night; Wal
dorfAstoriaMaldives.com). Each comes with a butler, bikes and a pool bigger than most NYC pads.
For such a luxurious place, the vibe is low-key. I didn’t recognize tennis champ Daniil Medvedev and his wife, seated next to me at breakfast; Serena Williams, Alexis Ohanian and baby Olympia had been there the prior week. Around that time, top model Emily Ratajkowski visited with her husband, posting jet-skiing snaps on Instagram.
Before I left, I joked to another editor, “I’m going on a hon-MEmoon.” A punnier colleague said, “It’s a ‘Hanamoon!’ ”
Yes, there were couples — but also families, groups of friends and bachelorette parties. It’s not just singles. Couples, parents and basically everyone I know tell me they routinely put off extra-special trips, reeling off valid reasons like cost and childcare. But, if it’s at all possible, don’t defer that dream vacation. Just go.