Farewell Ihavandhoo... for this year at least

Following a serious packing error and a four-week period of separation, the Lamp-top and its power cable have been reunited, allowing your correspondent to liberate a final blog post. While I appreciate that most of you have seen me and are reasonably sick of hearing about how wonderful island life was, it feels wrong not to bring this year’s adventure to some sort of conclusion. So indulge me for a moment.

The beginning of the end was marked by the arrival of the ‘Mother-ship’. I’m still not sure quite what Bella was expecting of my mother, based on the tit-bits of information I’d supplied her with throughout the year, but the title ‘Char-pants’ mum’ clearly wasn’t going to cut it. For the successful entertainment of any visitor, Bella and I had learned that a programme of activities was necessary. First up was a resort mini-break to Manafaru where everything was deemed ‘wonderful!’ We then returned to Ihavandhoo for a few days to allow her to experience life as a cast away and to meet all our friends. My mother leapt rather than fell into island life and by 9am each morning she was already up and in full flow about her domestic achievements with the twin tub washing machine. Snorkelling on the reef induced further coos of delight and by the third day she had made firm friends with at least half the island’s population. It was like having a celebrity to stay.

When it was time to leave Bella and I escorted the Mother-ship to the airport, ostensibly to check she was alright but also to ensure that she did actually board the flight and return to reality. As we moored up at the jetty the new management of Cinnamon Island Resort pulled up alongside us. “Come for the weekend!” they cried, “It’ll be a cash-free holiday!” All protests about not having any of our belongings were ignored and we were borne away on the resort boat for a weekend of fun.

In the absence of appropriate swimwear, and feeling somewhat guilty about our second resort mini-break in a week, we decided to be productive with our time and visit Farm Boy on his farm just a stone’s throw from the resort. Farm Boy is head honcho of Maafahi farm island where 50 staff, of 4 different nationalities, strive daily to maintain a hydroponics plant, banana, papaya and coconut palm plantations, an odd assortment of tropical fruit trees, a fish canning plant and a herd of goats. The trip was both enjoyable and educational and the food was simply excellent.

We returned to our beloved island with just one week of school to go but with exams already over, the school year seemed to fizzle out, rather than coming to a definitive end. The only slightly startling event was the departure of the Indian and Sri Lankan expatriate teachers who disappeared during the night... Bella and I had to make our own arrangements for getting home and decided to linger a little longer in order to take in the delights of Big Eid.

To pass the time until celebrations got under way we resolved to go out for a trot to find what Maldivians do when school’s out for the summer. We hadn’t got very far before we encountered Khusham and Suhail, on their way to fetch us – well, mainly Bella actually – to complete an important assignment: the filming of a commercial to advertise Bella perfume, a fragrance of superior quality. And that is how we came to spend two hot but happy afternoons on the beach, striking extraordinary poses, while Khusham crouched in the sand with a camera, just centimetres from the perfume bottle.

Having wrapped things up on the film set, we made our way to an awards ceremony on the jetty. It was Ihavandhoo’s answer to the Variety Club Golden Heart awards, honouring the hard work and dedication of some more senior figures on the island. At least, I think it was. The whole shebang was in Dhivehi and no one was adequately able to explain what was going on.

The dress code for the event was Maldivian traditional dress. Cast your mind back and you might remember that my last run-in with Maldivian traditional dress had ended with me looking somewhat like a raspberry, so Bella and I settled on more modern Maldivian outfits for the evening. Our wardrobe choices had gone without remark until we ran into Captain Haddock, who deemed them wholly unfit for the occasion. We were hauled off to the Haddock residence where we were kitted out in the real thing. The captain was not leaving anything to chance and was he who styled our hair to complete the effect. The effort was worth it though, purely for the reaction from the crowd. People we’d never even met were queuing up to have their photo taken with us.

Big Eid was all we had hoped for and more. There was a holiday atmosphere, food, a stage programme and hundreds of small children and babies dressed to the nines in the most extraordinary array of party outfits.

Finally it was time to go. Leaving a place that has been your home for a year has the potential to be a highly emotional affair but we were spared any melodramatics for the simple reasons that Maldivians don’t do public displays of affection and they don’t say goodbye. Their approach to such awkward situations is more ‘ignore it and hope it goes away’. As such, our departure was swift and relatively painless, with little time for wallowing or sadness.

And so, a year in the Indian Ocean has drawn to a close. It has been a pleasure and I hope you’ve enjoyed hearing about it. I’m not sure what the next year will hold but once I find out I’ll let you know. Perhaps we can go on another adventure together.

Until then, dear readers,

TTFN xxx