POETRY WRITTEN IN THE STYLE OF PROSE: VOMMULI
Sky’s yellows, whites, reds and blues recall paintings of Mondrian
The island of Vommuli in western central Maldives, a mere nine hectares, is a pearl on the turquoise plate that is the Indian Ocean. The opening of St. Regis Hotel on Nov 1 officially unveiled this pearl to the world, and for four short days one month after the hotel’s opening I stayed on Vommuli, soaking in sounds, sights and scents indigenous or foreign to the island.
Blue and white
People say that the Maldives has the bluest sea and finest sand, and that is true.
My first glimpse of the beauty of the surrounding sea was from the plane en route to Vommuli. Under sunlight the ocean surface resembled an opaque sheet of glass, with speed boats racing across it and, as if they were carving knives, leaving long white streaks in their wake. Clouds wafted past, obscuring temporarily from view the many small islands that from above reminded me of a type of unpolished turquoise stone native to Hubei province (That is, a faint greenish blue on the inside and gray on the outside.)
But the real blue, the one Maldives is known for, was served up when I arrived on Vommuli. It’s a blue so pure, vivid and untainted that it almost hurts the eyes. One is tempted to think that a bird — just any bird — might take a dip in the water and come out a cerulean-colored kingfisher.
The fluid blue meets white at the shore, punctuated by black stones piled artfully by man and inhabited by crabs.
After sunrise and before sunset
These are the times when the Maldives sky becomes the palette for an Impressionist painter. The sun lights up the clouds from behind, lending a sculptural feel to almost everything— from water villas inspired by hermit crabs to seabirds that alight on a roof top.
The sun at dusk is much warmer, pouring a bucketful of orange dye into the ocean before making the jump itself.
Take note: Seaplanes are the main means of transport between two faraway islands in the Maldives. These giant dragonflies with red tails are limited to flying between sunrise and sunset. If a plane has not arrived at its planned destination when the sun starts setting, it must immediately land on water, but have no fear—passengers are soon picked up by boats.
Spectacular and Spartan
Unlike many other resort islands in the Maldives — Full Moon, for example—V om mu li does not offer a tropical feast for the eye (Think of palm trees covered by thick carpet of green mold and vibrantly colored flower gardens.) Rather, Vommuli’s beauty is more of a Spartan type — a few palm trees dot the pristine seashore while black birds measure the spotless beach with confident strides. With no weeds or other extraneous flora, the green plants growing out of the white sand evoke a lotus pond in winter.
The view is spectacular in a soothing if not slightly singular way. While the color is saturated, the layout is spare. The whole scene reminds me of a Mondrian painting, with the reds and yellows exchanged for blues and whites. And it helps to declutter one’s mind, in a way that Chinese freehand painting can do for a viewer.
Vegetarian and non-vegetarian
The owner of the property, an Indian businessman, is a vegetarian. That explains why a long list of veggie choices runs across the front page of all menus here at Vommuli.
“Even the sharks here are vegetarian,” one hotel worker quipped, pointing to the small sharks that a visitor, wit habit of luck, maybe able to spot in waters around their villas. Shark attacks are unknown in this part of the ocean. “They are not interested in human flesh,” the hotel worker said.
But are humans interested in their flesh? No, he replied.
All that having been said, Vommuli still offers a gourmet experience on a truly luxury level. Every single month 16 flights arrive at Male International Airport laden with everything needed for the kitchen run by Ayyoub Salameh, director of culinary service on Vommuli.
“The duck is from France, lamb and beef from Australia, chili and tomato from Italy, flowers from Hong Kong and soy sauce from Chinese mainland,” said the Jordanian, who prides himself on having cooked the perfect beef, beef so soft that you can eat it with a spoon.
Reality and illusion
“Most things that have appeared on your table have traveled half the globe,” said Salame, the master chef, one of whose specialties seems to be candor. “Maldives is a beautiful illusion,” he says.
One day as we rode a guest buggy to the wine bar for the evening ahead we were given a glimpse of an evening ritual — applying anti-bug spray. As we fled the clouds of spray I realized that without considerable human intervention all the uncompromised comfort we had enjoyed over the past several days would be impossible on this tropical island.
A natural paradise, by definition, is for all creatures and therefore is certainly not tailor-made for man. People come to the Maldives to be close to the most stunning — and human friendly — part of nature, blithely taking illusion for reality.
A French general and a few touches of Regis
Even on a speck of an island in the Indian Ocean, the heritage of St Regis is palpably felt, partly through a tradition that can be traced back to Napolean Bonaparte and his soldiers.
Returning from victory, the soldiers, astride their horses, cut open the bottles of Champagne presented to them with the slash of a saber. We witnessed the ritual — one to welcome the evening — in Whale Bar, one of the many constructions on the island inspired by sea creatures.
That was probably before the general became Emperor of France. For those who are inclined toward a more refined way of wine-tasting, the chilled Decanter is the place to go. Underground with a sophisticatedselection, the place sought to continue the aristocratic tradition of midnight supper, for those who can wake up at anytime they want.
Another Regis legacy also involves wines — this time Bloody Mary, introduced by a bartender at St. Regis New York in 1934. The hotel has been commemorating the iconic cocktail with every new opening, adding regional flavors to the original recipe to create a whole line of different varieties.
The Vommuli version, Island Mary, has among its ingredients a type of “black salt” indigenous to the local menu.
The Island Mary appeared before me in a large seashell with a straw. When I asked whether the shells come from the ocean outside our restaurant the waiter revealed that they undergo a much longer voyage — from China.
The sun at dusk is much warmer, pouring a bucketful of orange dye into the ocean before making the jump itself.