Honeymoon heaven? It’s perfect for kids...
Imogen Edwards-Jones thought the Maldives were just for romantic couples – then her children arrived
THE idea of taking two small children to the Maldives is not something anyone of sound mind would usually entertain. The Maldives is a honeymoon destination, right? The 26 atolls are stultifying quiet, inhabited only by hand-holding couples; it’s the spiritual home of the newlyweds and the nearly deads.
So as I settled down into my British Airways seat with its taped-up table – four-year-old Rafe on one side of me, and Allegra, eight, on the other, I began to question my decision to head there as a family. However, I’d been promised that the LUX* South Ari Atoll was different. It’s a new resort (only 18 months old), childfriendly, and also ecofriendly, with a marine biology programme.
Ten hours later, I emerged a self-anaesthetised (on red wine) human punch-bag, with the children high on Disney and Doritos. Meanwhile, my husband Kenton had been so transfixed by Beyoncé in her new video that he’d barely managed to shut his eyes for the entire flight. We were not on good form.
Fortunately, the resort reps were clearly used to crabby Londoners and arrived armed with cold water and chilled towels. We then took a 25-minute seaplane flight to our final destination.
South Ari Atoll is a big island resort by Maldivian standards. There are just over 190 villas and suites (either on stilts or nestled along the beach), nine bars and restaurants, a delicious icecream parlour, two pools, and countless watersports. But it’s their ethos to be a bit different, to go against the tide, that makes this unlike the usual family-orientated resort.
SOUTH Ari Atoll is full of little secrets and surprises, such as a bright red phone box where you can call home for free, or the open-air photobooth where my children amused themselves for hours by pulling funny faces at the camera.
There were messages in a bottle hidden all over the hotel every morning, offering the lucky finder free pizza or, much more joyously, a free bottle of red wine. There was a bar that popped up in various palmfringed coves, where you could help yourself to a cocktail or three.
There were fresh coconut stalls, and stashes of chopped fruit here and piles of nuts there. In short, the walk to breakfast was fun. And I am not someone who enjoys ‘fun’. In fact, there’s nothing I like less than someone forcing me to enjoy myself. I find it about as witty as a damp cagoule on geography trip.
But these things worked – and there was also no better way to motivate Rafe to make the tenminute walk down the beach each day for his boiled egg and soldiers than the prospect of finding a hidden bottle along the way.
South Ari Atoll really knows how to cater for children: there is a kids’ pool, films on the beach, a kids’ club with arts and crafts, and, best of all, the marine biology centre run by Italian powerhouse Francesca.
My daughter became rather obsessed with Francesca. And I don’t blame her. She was a gorgeous polyglot, with a degree in marine biology and a passion for whale sharks with which she managed to enthuse everyone. The resort is lucky enough to have one of the major whale shark-spotting areas in the Maldives right on its doorstep, and Francesca and the rest of the marine centre staff photograph and monitor these gentle giants (they can grow to 40ft and weigh 21 tons) as part of a global preservation plan.
We spent most of our week on, or in, the water, either swimming in the crystal-clear ocean, snorkelling, or sailing. One evening, instead of going to watch stingrays being fed outside the Umami sushi restaurant, we decided to fish for our own supper. As a storm came in, and the wind howled and the rain lashed down, the children became all the more determined to land any sort of catch – but
to no avail. Our baited hooks delivered nothing. Fortunately, some Japanese tourists who came with us caught plenty so gave us some of theirs. And what a delicious meal it made. There really is nothing more glamorous than having your own chef barbecue freshly caught fish while you sip a glass of rosé.
But the best was yet to come. On our last day we went sailing on the resort’s catamaran and just as we were heading towards the open sea, we were joined by 30 or so overexcited dolphins that showed off their swimming skills for at least half an hour, much to Allegra’s delight. Rafe, on the other hand, had found his inner oligarch and was striding about the boat, chugging back the Fanta and announcing very loudly: ‘This is the life.’
Just then the call went out from Dolores, a member of the marine centre: ‘A whale shark! Over the starboard deck.’ There was a mad scramble for masks and snorkels before we all threw ourselves over the side of boat. The currents were strong, the waves were high, and I took a little longer than anyone else to get into the water, but by some fluke, or perhaps a stroke of luck, as everyone else was swept off in the wrong direction, I landed within a few feet of the whale shark’s head.
Dark grey and the size of six London buses, it was one of the most beautiful, serene and impressive animals I have ever seen. For ten minutes we swam side by side, one of its large soulful eyes staring at me, and me staring right back. It was a heart-stopping, privileged moment I will never forget.
WHEN we weren’t swimming, sailing or snorkelling, we were eating in one of the many restaurants where, despite a captive market, the hotel had not done the usual triple price-hike as is the wont of most resorts. And the food was delicious, particularly the Umami sushi.
However, it was the ice-cream parlour ICI that drove my children wild. Every afternoon at about 4pm we’d either walk or cycle the length of the island for a choc, double choc, or choc with extra choc delight. There were marshmallows and sprinkles and Smarties to throw over the top. It was if Willy Wonka himself had set up shop.
On that final day, as we stood on the jetty with our bags packed waiting for the seaplane to land to take us home, I did feel a terrible twinge of jealousy as a group of new guests arrived. They had a whole week ahead of them. A whole week of fun, fishing and whale sharks; of huge buffet breakfasts, barbecues on the beach and lashings of ice cream.
Whoever suggests the Maldives is not for children doesn’t know what they are talking about. My son came home a stingray-feeding pirate, my daughter discovered she is actually a marine biologist, and my husband and I returned human.
What more can you ask for?