As has been extensively reported, you are no longer limited to resorts if you want to visit the Maldives. Staying on "local" islands is not exactly cheap, but it certainly costs less than the vast sums required by the resorts. True, you need to dress conservatively, save your swimsuit for certain designated beaches, and forego alcohol for the duration. But in return you get a somewhat more authentic Maldivian experience.

How the local island tourism scene is working out I don't know. Is this policy succeeding in distributing the touristic pie a little more fairly? How do locals feel about sharing their tiny islands with tourists? Will the character of the places inevitably change for the worse? Who decides whether there should be a tourist presence, and on what terms? How will small communities absorb the busts that will inevitably accompany the booms?

We visited five islands (not counting the airport island): Male, the capital; three "local" islands; and Hulhumale, the capital's overspill island. The second two, Mathiveri and Himandhoo, are still "local islands with a bit of tourist provision". But this might well be changing. Mathiveri currently offers about five modestly sized choices of accommodation, but more is going up. Himandhoo, according to our landlord, is planning a veritable explosion of guesthouses. They've even re-sited the tip so it's outside the projected tourist area... Our fourth island, Rasdhoo, while still very pleasant, is already in the category of "local island but very much influenced by tourism". Some inhabitants, reportedly, have moved to Male, in order to rent out their properties as guesthouses. For sure, these islands are all likely to be very different very soon...



Whatever the future holds, the Maldives have a unique profile that would certainly draw us back. When we lived in New Zealand/Australia, we visited some of the small island nations in the Pacific, but in each case the main island would absolutely dwarf the largest piece of land in the Maldives. Male sits on an island that is just 1 percent of the size of the Isle of Man (that well-known standard international unit for measuring Island Size). These are pebbles strewn across the Indian Ocean.



We visited during the so-called rainy season, when prices are lower. There actually wasn't that much rain, and there was plenty of sun. But this season produces stronger winds (a bit disruptive on one or two occasions) and can make the water murkier (although we didn't really notice this).



We were also travelling directly after Ramadan. In Mathiveri that meant a lot of locals were on the move, but not that many tourists (we seemed to be pretty much the only foreigners around on Mathiveri and Himandhoo, and that suited us fine). Rasdhoo was a different story, with its own multi-national crew of tourists, plus visitors from the two nearby resorts, out on their "local island visit".

Here are my favourite things (aside from food, which is here):

1. Colours. I have to put this first, because it's what you notice first. The bright, washed blue of the sky. The milk white and dove grey and bruised blue of the clouds. The air-force blue of the deeper sea, edged with white-lace breakers where it meets the reef. The vivid turquoise and aquamarine of the lagoons. The blinding white of the coral sand. The caffe latte created by the melange of incoming waves and beach, and the mauve of the sky's reflection in the damp sand after the wave's retreat. The fresh green of the vegetation: coconut, banana, breadfruit, banyan, casuarina. The bright flowers tumbling everywhere.















2. Riding the Indian Ocean. We had intended to travel solely by dhoni (dhow-inspired public ferry). And for two of the four legs, we did precisely this. The seats are hard, but the inestimable dhoni offers a good steady ride; it's cheap; it's fun watching the scenery and the life of the boat (which we variously shared with trees, plants, and assorted packages, as well as other travellers); and it's breezy and open. You need to beware of their time-tabling, though... Unannounced by the website, the Male-Mathiveri schedule had been changed for the end-of-Ramadan festival, and the ferry we wanted had been dropped. The timetable was also unexpectedly changed on 1 July, and our intended Rasdhoo-Male sailing suddenly no longer existed. In both circumstances we took the public speedboat, which seats about 25, plus crew, and is a lot more expensive. The first (two-hour) speedboat trip was somewhat unrelaxing, I found. While we were still in the vicinity of Male, it was an interesting and pleasant ride, past uninhabited islands, a fuel tank island, a resort island, and all kinds of shipping. In the open water, however, it was a bouncy, slappy experience. Nothing -- nothing -- makes you feel less significant than sitting in a tiny boat on a huge, corrugated ocean. The Life of Pi kept pushing its way into my mind... The trip from Rasdhoo to Male had similar characteristics, but only took an hour. Definitely advisable to take your sea-sickness medicine...









3. Atolls. A map of the Maldives looks like two rows of splotches, each made up of dots. The splotches are atolls (the word originates from the Maldivian language). According to National Geographic, atolls are ring-shaped reefs, islands, or series of islands, formed by the accretion of coral atop underwater mountains. I'd never really appreciated these little marvels before this trip. In Mathiveri, for example, we could look out across a broad expanse of lagoon to a line of breakers that are always audible through the rustling of the coconut trees and the cries of birds. They mark the edge of the atoll. Beyond is that big, deep ocean I was telling you about. But on the other side of the island, the reef faces into the atoll, and within the atoll's confines you get not only islands and their associated lagoons, but also lagoons without islands (shallow pools of turquoise in the middle of the intra-atoll sea), and islands within lagoons, and sandbanks, and deep holes within shallow lagoons. And so on. Geographically speaking, we spent time on three atolls: North Male, northern Ari, and Rasdhoo (administratively part of Ari, indeed the capital of the district, but topographically its own unique atoll).



4. Mathiveri. The highest point is a bare two metres above sea level, and it has a permanently resident population of 400 or so. It's a delightful little place, with no "must see" items, but pretty scenes everywhere. We stayed at the highly recommendable Riveli Retreat Guesthouse, in a room with a balcony overlooking the sea. Staple activities here, as indeed they were for all our islands, were strolling (sunrise and sunset walks were mandatory), swimming and/or snorkelling off the tourist beach (the one where swimsuits are permitted if you're into such attire), wildlife watching (see below), photographing, and reading. As on all our local islands, the roads are sandy tracks, and there are no cars... In Mathiveri, we occasionally had coffee at the Busy Bean, the only cafe option at this time of year, and a popular meeting point for local guys of all ages.









5. Himandhoo. If anything, this island is even prettier, with quite a thick covering of trees. We had only two full days, and spent a lot of that time on the narrow tourist beach (on both Mathiveri and Himandhoo we had these beaches entirely to ourselves...). We tried both the main eating places, which offer simple but tasty meals. There's a more conservative feel to this island, with many women completely covered. We had the nicely laid out Marina Bay Villa all to ourselves, and appreciated its pleasant courtyard and gardens. Our landlord was a keen underwater spear-fisherman, and was out both days catching fish to sell to the factory on a nearby island and to the resorts.











6. Rasdhoo. As already indicated, this is a much more touristy island. In some ways this was a disappointment, after the seclusion of the previous two. But it was also nice to have more cafe options (and the cafes weren't tourist enclaves, but were well patronized by locals). Cafe Ole has a nice, loungy feel, and the Lemon Drop has a lovely terrace. Here we also got good views of the seaplanes that service the nearby resorts (I started to regard planes without feet as slightly abnormal). Just offshore are a "picnic island" and nearby sandbank, and we spent a pleasant day exploring both. Snorkelling over the deep hole that somehow survives in the middle of a shallow lagoon off a sandbank is quite an experience. We stayed at the Banana Residence, which is staffed by an enthusiastic team of entrepreneurial brothers and cousins (and which they are in the process of relaunching under the name of Aloha Rasdhoo).











7. Fish. Meeting manta rays was a definite highlight, especially as we got really clear, close-up views. Very dapper (black on the back, white on the front, and accompanied by a small entourage of cleaner fish), these are massive, calm, and curious animals. They swim with their trademark flapping motion, and they regularly do backwards barrel rolls, which apparently help to scoop more of that rich marine soup into their capacious mouths. They were a joy to hang out with. A variety of stingrays would regularly appear in the shallows off various islands, and off Rasdhoo, small reef sharks often accompanied our seaside walks. The reef fish were an ongoing delight, so incredible that words really can't begin to do them justice. Most also belong in the "colours" category, of course, as they're decked out as though every day were a fancy-dress party. Every time we donned the snorkels we saw fascinating stuff, but there were some particularly stand-out experiences. I loved being surrounded by a large shoal of glinting silver pipefish, swimming just below the surface. I loved swimming through veritable clouds of purple fish, brown fish, and silvery grey fish. (Admittedly, this latter experience was somewhat engineered, as our guide gave us bottles containing bread, which you mix with sea water and squeeze out, much to the enthusiasm of the fish. I'm not sure about the desirability of this practice, and worry that they will all end up with diabetes, but it's amazing to be literally surrounded by these colourful creatures, and feel their little fishy fins on your body.) Top of the list, however, must be the incredible reef and drop-off just out from Rasdhoo. Fish are stacked up in the depths as though floating in a giant lava lamp, and a seemingly infinite variety graze the coral formations. And then there was the turtle... We've seen sea turtles before, but never so clearly or for so long. Magical.





8. Other wildlife. The holiday's crabs were so entertaining that they deserve a post of their own. But we also enjoyed watching bats, lizards, and herons quietly going about their daily business.









9. Male. I've never heard a Maldivian with a good word to say about Male. And I guess the density of its built environment would become oppressive over time. But we quite liked its tree-shaded streets and lanes, and found plenty to fill the day-and-a-half we were there. There are harbours full of every kind of boat you can imagine; an absolutely gorgeous old coral mosque; a couple of artificial beaches that are great for people-watching; a low-key "main street" that stretches the width of the island; a quirky but worthwhile museum; and a number of cafes with airy upper decks from which you can watch the world go by.

















10. Hulhumale. This is fascinating. I've been in cities that are still being built, but never on an island that is still being built... Not even Singapore has done land reclamation on this scale (although they've been advising on the project). You can follow the changes here, but basically, this island (a massive enlargement of an existing island, achieved by filling in its lagoon), is designed to relieve the population pressure on Male. It is already connected to the airport by a causeway, and will be connected to the capital itself when the Chinese have finished building the friendship bridge (this connection will be appreciated by the locals, I'm sure, but will take some of the romance out of arriving). Hulhumale is all very much a work-in-progress, with building sites everywhere, but there's already a stretch of hotels along the beach to the east; there's a very busy and interesting harbour on the western side; the planners have provided an extensive central park, broad thoroughfares, an outdoor gym, a barbecue area, and so on; and having broken my arm on the last morning (not a highlight), I can testify to the efficiency of the hospital... At the moment it feels spacious and quite pleasant, and it was an interesting place to spend our last couple of days. (We stayed at the very comfortable Ocean Grand, whose staff were super helpful over the arm incident.) How things will work out with the new island when the bridge is siphoning cars into and out of Male, I'm not quite sure...













So, the Maldives: Unique, vulnerable, and thoroughly addictive...