Claudia Winklemen is busy doing nowt on Maureen's magnificent Maldives

By Aaron Tilley


The simple life: Claudia Winkleman enjoying doing nothing, at the Four Seasons in the Maldives


Right then, let’s not dilly-dally. We all know that to properly unwind, to feel the wind in your hair (if that’s your thing), to clear your head and to fully unravel then you have to go on holiday to somewhere where’s there’s absolutely nothing to do.

If there was a self-help book called How To Relax, chapter one would basically be about going to a place where the busiest you can get is ordering breakfast.

That’s why I love the Maldives. Yes, people will talk about diving with sharks and yoga pavilions. Friends at dinners will discuss kite-surfing and visits to Male fish market. Yada yada. Let them chat. Watch their lips move as they get animated about the amazing manta ray book they read on their sea plane.

People, trust me, there’s nothing to do. There’s no golf (the islands are too small), no monuments (other than the small temple-like shrines which are spas that dot the atolls) no ‘meeting points’ and ‘3pm Twister In The Lobby’ signs and there are definitely never ever ‘Day Excursions To Historical Places Of Interest’. Yippee! Break out the sun cream.

I know. I am a heathen. But just so that you don’t think I’m a total moron I can tell you how there’s nothing I like more than a trip dedicated to Titian in Venice or a week in New York so that I can go to the Frick. I can promise you that the most fascinating fortnight is spent going from temple to temple in Kyoto. I could bang on about the joy of a city mini-break – that Barcelona combines both a morning of Gaudi and patatas bravas (possibly the best carbohydrate snack that has ever graced this planet) for lunch.

But just sometimes, nothing is all you need. Isn’t that what The Beatles sang about? Love. Sure, that’s useful, but what about nothing? Nowt. Not moving. Just a cold towel that smells of lemongrass and an iced drink made from crushed ginger and lime juice. Oh, and if the mobile doesn’t work and the fax machine on the resort is slightly temperamental, who cares? Just bring it on.

I have come to the ‘take your brain off your shoulders, turn it off and park it’ before. I’ve stayed in low-cost accommodation and I’ve stayed at a few jazzy places too. I am not using the word ‘jazzy’ lightly; some of the hotels in the Maldives really go to town on the luxury front. One place I stayed gave a complimentary foot rub on arrival. Even Mariah Carey would approve.

But this time was going to be different. This time I was bringing children – yes, children, offspring, small people – to the world of quiet. Madness surely. Certainly most of my friends thought I was insane. ‘You’re taking the two kids on a plane for like, 900 hours, just to worry about them falling into the water?’ they exclaimed incredulously-To the one place you love to unwind? You’re taking two small people somewhere specifically where there will be nothing for them to do?’


Complete paradise: What to do when your every whim is catered for?


As I said, I’m a big fan of nothing – can’t get enough of it – but to be frank, the seven-year-old and the three-year old aren’t quite as keen. They’re absolutely nuts about activities and events and things to do.

Then my friend Nick intervened. ‘Listen, don’t talk to anyone else and don’t buy a guidebook. And whatever you do don’t call one of those travel companies and don’t go on Trip Advisor and don’t do what you always do when you book a holiday,’ he implored.

‘Just write this down and book it. Do not doubt me and do not ask questions. Have you got a pen?”


Busy Claudia certainly relished the chance to relax


Nick is brilliant and knows what’s good in the world (giant Toblerones, lie-ins, roast potatoes and gravy, afternoon films). But he’s also, um, bossy. ‘I’ve got a pen,’ I said.

‘Thank God for that. Now listen up. As soon as I put the phone down you are calling someone called Maureen and booking this. Am I clear?’
‘Are you on some sort of medication?’

‘This is not about me, this is about you wanting the holiday of your life. Don’t make me rip my hair out. Just write this down”

I did as he said. I told him he was very officious, which he agreed with, and all of a sudden I was standing in my kitchen in rainy London staring at a piece of paper and it only had three words on it. Four. Seasons. Maldives.

OK, as well as liking doing nothing and fantasising about Spanish potatoes with sour cream (seriously, you really must try them) you should know that I am very, almost freakishly, obedient.

‘Hello. Is that Maureen? I’d like to book a holiday in six months’ time please. And yes, we’re bringing two children.

Maureen, it turns out, is the only person you need to know at the Four Seasons in the Maldives. She’s not the general manager, she doesn’t head up the spa, she’s not in that weird world of customer relations and she’s not in charge of bringing snacks to the room (although, yes, I agree – this role is of enormous importance). Maureen works at reception and simply sorts everything out.

Would your seven-year-old like tennis lessons? Do you think your daughter would be interested in making jewellery every day at midday when the sun is at its hottest so she doesn’t get burnt? Did you say that your husband likes the films of Martin Scorsese? We have an extensive film library. Did you want to meet a starfish? Oh, and there are pools in every villa – may I suggest we gate yours as your little one is well, little.

I am not making this up. Maureen is magnificent. She said I should stay at both Four Seasons resorts. One is the Kuda Huraa and the other is the Landaa Giraavaru. The former is the older of the resorts and is only 30 minutes by boat from Male, which is gratifying after a ten-hour flight from the UK. (By the way, it’s worth saying that the BA direct flight is brilliant.)

Male airport, I should also add, is not really an airport. Yes, it calls itself that, but basically it’s a landing strip and a nice bloke with an old scanning machine and then, wallop, you’re outside and on the fluorescent Indian Ocean.

A very lovely boy with a Four Seasons jacket then magically appears, takes your bags, gives your kids cold apples and, bingo, you’re on his boat whizzing to the first of the hotels.


The Four Seasons Kuda Huraa resort has its own beach bungalows


Kuda Huraa is small and friendly and very proud of its ‘family’ feel. It’s also crammed with the happiest staff I think I’ve ever come across. In particular, you should seek out Lara from the kids’ club (‘who’s up for burying me in the sand before we have a hermit crab race?’) and Summer, who serves breakfast, lunch and supper as if there’s nowhere else on Earth she’d rather be. On her instigation we gave up our order of mango and bran flakes one morning and had the freshly made chocolate chip pancakes instead. I thought I was going to faint. And as for the kids – the big one looked as though he was about to cry.

There is, thankfully, not much to do, but just on the off chance you’re the kind of person who likes to move even a little bit, I thought I ought to do some research.

The traditional Maldivian cuisine cooking class is properly interesting and good fun. You learn how to make delicious chicken curry and tandoori-spiced fish. Pudding is samosas filled with chopped banana and melting white chocolate. It sounds slightly hideous, but actually tastes amazing.

The other thing I decided to try was the dolphin cruise. Now, I have seen these advertised before and been suckered into throwing away 50 dollars. There is nothing more unappealing than being in the middle of the sea making small talk with another couple while the boat captain manically tries to find sea life. I went on one once and someone actually shouted:

‘Look, some wood!’ So it was with a heavy heart that I boarded the Four Seasons dolphin boat. As the sea ‘expert’ gave us a talk about where to spot dolphins and their young I tried to stifle a yawn and my husband said I actually tsk’d like a teenager while our tour guide excitedly told everyone to take their places. After 12 minutes I was practically playing solitaire on my phone and then, bang, we came across 20 big, beautiful dolphins.


Lap of luxury: The two bedroom Land and Ocean suite


As it turns out the sea ‘expert’ is actually an expert. Ahem. The dolphins splashed in the surf in the boat’s wake. They leapt in front of us, they did back flips and we stayed with them for about 20 minutes. I’ve never been so close to dolphins and neither have our children who were just open-mouthed with wonder and haven’t stopped talking about it since.

The rooms at Kuda Huraa are spacious and beautifully made in dark wood and thatch with a massive, massive (indeed, it deserves two uses of the word) bath and a fantastic outside shower. Every room has its own pool and once you’ve settled in you’ll never want to leave. But after three days that’s what we had to do and we were pretty sure there was nothing better out there.

Thirty minutes on a seaplane later and we landed at Landaa Giraavaru. Right then. Stop right there. Change position, sit up or have a sip of tea. You might have been flicking through this article out of politeness and maybe what I was saying wasn’t interesting. I’m with you. However, what I’m about to tell you is the unvarnished truth.

Landaa Giraavaru, other than having a slightly ridiculous name that looks as if it was created by a drunken Countdown contestant, is about as perfect a hotel as there is.

And here’s why. It is ridiculously beautiful – it’s the Monica Belluci of hotels, all sexy and long with big, sumptuous villas spread along its coast and the sand is absurdly soft. The water that surrounds it is a deep, dark blue with patches of bright white interspersed with coral.


Dinner is served: The 'brilliant' Blu Restaurant, views included


You’re nowhere near Male so you never see or hear a big ship and nobody is ever fishing out plastic bottles on the jetty and the dive centre is eye-poppingly proper. It’s not a hut containing a smiley teenager holding an old wetsuit and a picture of a ray. It’s full of brilliant, clever men and women who want to show you whale sharks. Seriously, there is a marine research centre on the island and when we arrived they were nursing an outofsorts female turtle and a porcupine fish who was called Puffy.

There are four restaurants and all are relaxed and brilliant, and Blu (I agree – what happened to the e?) is the best and serves delicious pizza and pasta and just-this-secondcaught fish. Perfect .

Small lemon sharks come to the shore every night and baby bats fly through the trees. When you arrive you immediately get a list of the friendly inhabitants of the island and you’ll spend the rest of your holiday making friends with lizards and small, gentle geckos. The kids adopted six hermit crabs throughout our stay and even made skirts for them out of paper (the crustaceans were particularly happy we’ve left) and they had the best time of their lives trying to catch clown fish (thankfully impossible) and searching for the bright orange butterflies that swoop through the blossom.

The rooms are enormous – a family of four can easily share one. At the calming, beautiful spa there’s a masseur called Jinoy who has magic hands – I’m not lying. You can do yoga there most mornings and there are breathing-technique sessions every evening. There are turtle safaris and there are coral reefs to build (visit reefscapers.com – it’s properly cool) and there are ayurverdic doctors and chefs who will make special soups and talk to you about whether you’re pita or vada. You can jog along the beach and you can learn to windsurf.

Or you can do my favourite thing of all. Nada.

To quote my friend Nick: ‘Don’t doubt me and don’t ask questions. Get a pen and write this down if you want the holiday of your life. Four. Seasons. Maldives.’

Travel FactsBritish Airways (0844 493 0787, www.ba.com) offers return flights from Gatwick to the Maldives from £652.50. Double rooms at Kuda Huraa and Landaa Giraavaru start at £463 per night including breakfast. Call 00 800 6488 6488 or visit www.fourseasons.com. Seasons in Style (01244 202002, www.seasonsinstyle.com) and ITC Classics (01244 355570, www.itcclassics.co.uk) offer inclusive holidays to the resorts.

source :dailymail