Our day began like most tourists mornings in the Maldives with a raiding of the breakfast buffet. We have been steering clear of the waffle guy because he has attitude. It’s a shame because sometimes you want a waffle or perhaps some pancakes. He wanders a lot, though. He’s nothing like the egg guy who really commits to his station and is always very friendly. Perhaps the waffle guy just misses home and is ready to leave this island.
We both went swimming in the ocean for a little bit, if nothing else to get some reprieve from the heat. Snorkeling was out of the question since the water was too churny, and we wouldn’t be able to see anything. It was still, however, a magnificent blue.
For the remainder of the morning, we relaxed back at our villa. We did have a few items to take care of finalizing some hotels, ferries, rental cars, and a domestic flight in the Seychelles, but it was fairly easy to sort out. That being said, we confused our liaison, Issam, who sent me a WhatsApp message asking me to confirm our departing flight. I suppose most people fly to Dubai or London or some other European hub. We are flying directly to the Seychelles, which is perhaps not normal.
A little after 1pm, a soft-spoken woman in a hazmat suit came to our room to administer our covid tests. We will need a negative test result in addition to our vaccination cards and a health declaration form in order to enter the Seychelles. After a relatively painless nasal probing, we had our lunch of smuggled pastries.
Afterward, I expressed interest in going across the long bridge to the incomplete, yet exclusive part of the resort. One of the workers told Nicole it will be completed in December, presumably on a timeline to take advantage of high season. As for right now, there really don’t seem to be that many people staying here. We keep seeing the same ones, to the point where we have given them names, created backstories, and applied personalities to all of them. We are rather worried about Jon and Cheryl. They are quite fair skinned and were really playing in the sun yesterday. Chad wants to act like he’s everyone’s friend, but nobody actually wants to hear about his day. Bob and Kath are just drunk boomers who mask their alcoholism through “fun” sign art about wine o’clock.
Friday is like Shabbat in the Muslim world, so there were virtually no workers on this side of the Conrad. It felt like we were trespassing onto an abandoned 5-star resort. At one point, the only creature we saw was a sea turtle riding the current toward the cheap side of the Conrad. Hopefully it doesn’t have to make the return trip in this wind.
Come December, I imagine this area will look quite different, so perhaps we were fortunate to have this unique experience. We conveniently timed our return trip back across the long bridge as another floatplane was landing nearby. What luck! This one didn’t have the standard Trans-Maldivian livery and was a more Grimace-inspired aircraft.
We sat by the the beach closest to us while sand would periodically blast us from the wind. Minus sand and projectiles flying around, the wind does actually feel quite nice and refreshing. Nicole nearly lost her hat today, but I was super spry and snatched it up from flying away to Sri Lanka. We showed up halfway into happy hour and all the usual suspects were there — Chad, Bob & Kath (drinking…again), and Jon and Cheryl showed up an hour late (nobody told them about the made up time zone yet). We formulated a plan for dinner, which included room service. Given the battle with the wind we had last night, we thought it best to remain in our villa.
Our $42 pizza and fries order arrived some time later and we listened to the wind howl and watched the sunset from our backyard. Shortly thereafter it commenced raining quite hard. We opened up our second bottle of wine (which I imagine would cost $80 if we had to actually pay for it) and relaxed with the sound of the wind, the waves, the rain, and a nearby DHC-6 Twin Otter anchoring for the night.
passports & pepto bismol 