Traveling domestically in the Maldives is proof that a journey can rival its destination in allure, especially when Ozen Reserve Bolifushi is your first stop. While many of the Maldives’ remote islands demand an exhilarating (albeit bumpy) seaplane ride, Bolifushi charms with accessibility, just 30 minutes by a sleek and luxe speedboat from Malé. After a long-haul flight, the airport lounge alone feels like a pre-vacation vacation, serving up tranquil vibes before your transfer.  The sea sparkles like liquid sapphire as you glide toward palm-fringed shores. At Bolifushi Island’s arrival, the welcome feels ceremonial, conch shells sing, Boduberu drums echo, and you’re adorned with handcrafted palm-leaf necklaces. Here, luxury isn’t whispered, it’s celebrated through the unique ‘Reserve Plan,’ where indulgence knows no bounds. Villa numbers vanish; freedom feels infinite, and the island, undeniably yours.

Bolifushi Life

Bolifushi Island, Kaafu Atoll

This isn’t your typical resort, it’s Arabian elegance fused with barefoot tropical bliss. Ninety keys unlock Ozen Reserve Bolifushi’s stand-alone villas and ocean reserves, each meticulously crafted to blend nature and indulgence. Golf buggies masquerade as Rolls Royce’s, and villas come with pools that feel infinite. Marble and wood interiors create a natural buoyancy, while outdoor spaces practically throw you into the Indian Ocean’s embrace. The pièce de résistance? Private ocean reserves, complete with water slides, because, really, why walk into paradise when you can dive in headfirst? The Reserve experience goes beyond conventional opulence. Imagine a private butler, your own buggy, and an in-villa minibar that’s more treasure chest than convenience. Restocked twice daily, this ‘minibar’ brims with champagne, fine wines, chocolates and snacks that could make a chef jealous. Speaking of indulgence, the resort serves up endless opportunities: from Moroccan feasts to floating breakfasts in your private pool, or a cocktail at Ozar Bar watching the Maldivian sun melt into the horizon. The underwater world here hums with soft magic, a kaleidoscope of corals and darting fish that live just beneath the surface; and snorkelling along the house reef—spanning over a kilometre, is otherworldly. But above water, my inner yogi got its due. Beachside yoga at dawn feels less like exercise and more like a sacred ritual when the gentle hush of waves is your soundtrack. Add to that a visit to the resort’s spa; whatever travel weary weight my body came with evaporated like mist here. I left the spa light enough to float and re-enter the world. And don’t even get me started on the butler. Let’s just say, service here is lightyears ahead of civilization. I didn’t just visit Bolifushi. I disappeared into it.

Exploring The Capital City

Male Atoll

Coming into Malé after the shimmering mirage of Bolifushi feels like flipping to the next chapter of a book you didn’t know you were reading. The catamaran ride back blends water and sky into a watercolour wash of blues while the city slowly emerges, dense, vibrant, alive with the hum of a capital steeped in both history and modernity. With a knowledgeable local guide, I wander Malé’s streets, brushing past history and culture at every turn. We pass the country’s oldest school, symbolic of its remarkable 98% literacy rate, and pause at the November 3rd Memorial, a quiet tribute to the fallen heroes of 1988. At Royal Garden Café, tucked into a nobleman’s Ganduvaru, I sip tea surrounded by intricate dark wood carvings. Sultan Park whispers memories of sultans, while the National Museum reveals untold stories. Markets buzz with vibrant life, tempting me with tropical treats. From a skyscraper rooftop, Malé unfurls, a dense quilt of culture and energy. Malé had surprised me. It wasn’t just a layover; it was a heartbeat.

Barefoot Luxury

Medhufaru Island, Manadhoo

If anything could contrast the lively chaos of Malé, it is Soneva Jani, a fantasy so ethereal it seems impossible that it shares the same watery world. Arriving at Soneva Jani feels a bit like tumbling into a technicolour dreamscape, minus the tumble because you glide in style aboard a breezy private seaplane. The 40-minute flight from Malé is your first hint that this isn’t a vacation; it’s an escape hatch into the surreal. My toes hit the powdery dock with the kind of sigh inducing delight you don’t get from any airport runway. Picture an island, a 150-acre slice of the Noonu Atoll, carpeted in lush green jungle, fringed by a shoreline so white it could blind, and floating on a lagoon of water so blue it feels Photoshopped. This is where you trade the world’s chaos for hammocks, sunshine, dolphin cruises, and a barefoot policy that’s delightfully enforced. My shoes? Sacked in a canvas bag upon arrival, forgotten until my reluctant goodbye. Soneva Jani unveils itself like a masterpiece. Life here is lived on two speeds, luxurious indulgence and carefree playfulness. Overwater villas with glass-bottomed floors and waterslides that fling you into the lagoon are adult-sized versions of a childhood dream, and let’s face it, who wouldn’t want to take stargazing up a notch with retractable roofs over their beds? Yet, it’s equally serene: yoga shalas, dreamy wine cellars, and gardens that turn veggies into culinary theatrics at hotspots like Overseas by Mathias Dahlgren. Days blur into happiness, cycling jungle trails, snorkelling vibrant reefs, and occasionally catching my reflection in glimmering turquoise waters and wondering, ‘How did I find this slice of heaven?’ You don’t just stay at Soneva Jani; you become part of its story.

Crabs, Spice And Serenity

Unit 15, The Marina at the Crossroads Maldives South Male

Back in the bustling world of Malé, I couldn’t resist a detour to Crossroads Maldives, a breezy boat ride whisked me to Crossroads, a slice of paradise anchored around the famed ‘Ministry of Crab’. The hacienda style villa feels like it was plucked straight from a postcard, with its sweeping marina views and sunsets that demand poetic tribute. Inside, every detail is a nod to its Colombo root the polished floors, the heliconia blooms, even the unmistakable hum of anticipation for what’s to come. And, oh, what comes. The Sri Lankan Mud Crab? Decadent, tender, and dripping in glorious peppery richness. The Garlic Chilli Prawns? Fireworks on the tongue. Chef Dharshan doesn’t merely serve food; he orchestrates edible symphonies. Between bites, the Yellow Buggy and Dhoni experiences inject playful escapism. As my boat pulls away, I realize I’m leaving more than a meal, I’m leaving a memory, etched in spice and saltwater air. The Maldives isn’t just turquoise waters and luxury. Its capital breathes with stories, blending grit, charm, and history. Here, paradise wears many faces.