Bella and Char-pants’ grand Maldivian tour

Having negotiated several intense weeks of school exams, marking, report writing, etc, Bella and I were looking forward to our term holiday and grand travel plans with rosy optimism. A week later, sitting at Hanhimadhoo airport, in the middle of a monsoon, unable to get home, we were feeling a little less rosy. It was at that point that I stopped to reflect on where we had been and what we had seen.

The holiday had been intricately planned to accommodate all our requirements: the need to get as far away from our lesson planners as possible; the desire to see other English people; access to alcohol; and the opportunity to purchase enormous quantities of cheese and other foodstuffs not available on our fair isle. As such the itinerary went something like this:

• Fly to Malé from Hanimaadhoo, deposit bags and passport, shop for half a day
• Fly from Male to Thinadhoo for a three-day visit with Shell and Luke, two of the other IVP volunteers
• Fly back to Male and shop for another half a day, before being whisked away to a resort for a couple of days of rest and relaxation
• Return to Male and shop for two thirds of a day, prior to boarding a plane home, with plenty of time to plan and do the washing before starting school again

The plan was perfect, with just the right balance of travel and relaxation to leave us feeling rested and refreshed at the end of the week. Foolishly however, we had overlooked a major obstacle: rainy season. There are a few things you have to understand about rainy season: it tends to arrive just as you’ve hung the washing out; a downpour can last for five minutes or five days; any event becomes subject to postponement or cancellation at a moment’s notice, and exactly the same is true of flights and boat rides. In short, rainy season renders virtually everything impossible. Blissfully ignorant Bella and I set off for Male.

The first sign of trouble was the change of flight time. Never once have I flown on a Maldivian aeroplane that took off at the advertised time. No matter, this change allowed for extra time to purchase goodies for Shell and Luke in Male, and a long lunch. It was only once we had boarded the hour-long flight to Thinadhoo that I realised I perhaps shouldn’t have eaten quite so much lunch. For the next hour Bella watched me squirm in my seat and on reaching Thinadhoo I could be seen dashing through arrivals and straight into the Ladies loos.

Our hostess was charming and Thinadhoo seemed quite the metropolis compared to our cosy island. Everything seemed just so, until I turned on the bathroom taps and the over-powering smell of bad eggs issued-forth with the water. It seems that Thinadhoo sits on a particularly sulphurous reserve of ground water and every shower has the capacity to turn your stomach. Poor Shell and Luke.

Having enjoyed an otherwise pleasant weekend Bella and I set off once more for Male and more shopping. Given it’s the smallest capital city in the world it takes a remarkably long time to get around Male. And buying clothes is akin to charity shop shopping. For, you see, there are no high street shops. There are only independent shops, stocked with knock-offs and H&M seconds shipped in from Thailand. You have to sift and there’s no guarantee that anything will fit you. After several hot, frustrated hours we headed back to the airport island, armed with buckets of conditioner, ready to pick up the boat to the resort.

I have no doubt that when the sun is shining and the sea is calm Chaaya Island resort is perfectly lovely and offers a fabulous holiday. In the pouring rain it had rather less to offer. What it did have, in abundance, was buffet food and satellite TV. Bella and I set about making the best of a bad situation but after two soggy days we decided to call it quits and trade a final day of eating for another day of sifting in Male.

By this point Bella was being plagued by a vicious illness. Never before has Miss Willing been known to turn down a shopping trip. So when she asked to go home to bed I knew things were bad. Having duly deposited her in our hotel room I set out on my own to try to fulfil our extensive shopping list. By 11 pm I had bought half my body weight in cheese – mission more or less accomplished.

The phone call informing us that our flight home had been changed was not surprising. The phone call from Manafaru resort was. They wanted to know if their guests could have our seats on the plane! Certainly not. We had school the next day and anyway, it was the principle of the matter.

This was a mistake but it was only when we arrived at Hanimadhoo in gale-force winds and torrential rain that I realised it. Manafaru resort has the transport facilities to get its guests safely across the waters in even the fiercest monsoon. Ihavandhoo School does not.

So there we were. Stuck on Hanimadhoo, Bella crippled with pain and I with time for reflection.

We did get home eventually but we have learned a valuable lesson: never, ever try to go anywhere in rainy season.