Returning Back to Male: At the Somerset Hotel (Maldives Diaries)

Back in Male

Maafushi, Maldives - By the time my body touched my bed at Room 201, I was in dreamland. It must have been 9:30 PM or thereabouts. Record time. Why I was particularly tired was a bit of a mystery to me, but there are days such as that. An excellent day, but tiresome nonetheless. Ho-hum.

Call for prayer came again at 4:45AM, drowning the early morning drizzle. And I couldn't sleep right back to REM. At 6:20, I was all packed and ready for check out. The kitchen staff prepared breakfast 15 minutes earlier than their 7AM time. It was as filling as the previous buffet set. Mashuni was again served. The stir fried mushroom was particularly tasty, obviously worth several returns. At 7:10AM, I was walking towards the jetty for its 7:30 ride back to Male. The weather promised a sunny day. Imagine if this were the weather in Anantara; it would have been perfect.

Ferry boat to Male

Red painted this return boat to Male, not the one that clunked out on our way to Maafushi. One way blue, and return was red. That’s some color-coding scheme. Exactly as it was during my November trip. An hour into the smooth glide into the waters, a very polite gentleman started collecting fees. $2 (PhP90) or 30 rufiyaa per person. I handed my Maldivian legal tender. “Thank you,” said the ticket man. Despite full house patronage, the trip back to the big city was fast, I could see Male 20 minutes before 9AM. On a good day, it only takes 1 ½ hours from Maafushi to Male. On average, it's 2 hours.

I was keeping my fingers crossed someone would pick us up from the jetty. On my previous arrival last year, “The Boutique Inn” didn't bother to pick me up so I had to hail a cab. Easy, except that many taxis didn't have the foggiest where Boutique Inn was. The advantage of fixed rate taxis is that you don’t have to haggle. If they give you the run around, it’s their petrol they’ll be wasting. That, or there must be something nefarious in the works.

Yup, a couple of guys holding “Somerset” cards were waiting at the port, just two steps straight out of the boat. How convenient. We had a chat and one of the guys offered island hopping excursion for the next day. I was thrilled! I was willing to vomit dollars to see a little more “local”. The ride to Somerset was a breeze. I was in the same street 4 days ago, trying to find Somerset Hotel and Keneree Magu. From the National Museum, I crossed the street and asked around. The little alleys didn't have names so I had to ask. No one knew. Now I am here hitting my forehead with disbelief. Had I walked a block further, I’d have found Somerset, which is quite central.

Somerset Hotel is a new name in Male, with quite posh and modern interiors. If there was a boutique hotel that justified this category, Somerset would qualify. I was given my deluxe room. I also booked for a smaller one.

Spacious, bright, with a symphony of three-tiered pillows and the smoothest fabrics for bed sheets. The walls were either beige or white. The wall leading to the balcony had wall-to-wall beige curtains. Four bas-relief artworks hang just above what should be a dining table; a huge abstract painting of what looked like yellow skies and blue waves was on display just before turning to the main bedroom. There’s a sofa bed facing the LCD cable television; a mini-ref; coffee and tea; an oblong shaped lamp shade; another modern bench covered with satiny red cushions. There’s a digital clock and a telephone beside the bed. Two 5-foot wall mirrors adorn the bedroom and bathroom respectively. In short, this was a step above most hotels in Male.

CONFUSION AND ANXIETY

Upon check in, there was a lot of confusion involving a non-functioning wifi (a requirement when I book a hotel room), some forms that I had to handcarry from my room at the 3rd level and back to the front desk, and a passport that they photocopied earlier but forgot to return (and they weren't even aware that they actually misplaced it - which is a big "mortal sin" among the traveling kind - the staff doesn't seem to realize the serious  implications of a missing passport), but I'll get to that separately.

At 9:30AM, I was allowed early entry. But where else would I ago after a very early morning? I needed time to recuperate and gather my strength before I resume my activities. The island hopping trip would set me back by $89.10 without the meal. This already includes 10% service tax and TGST (tourism goods and services tax) of 8%. Had it been a hotel, there would have been another percentage for bed tax. That’s a whopping 20% or more for mere taxes. Ouch. Indeed. Regardless, new places light my sensibility. I have never heard of Himmafushi and Huraa before, and I was set to "hop" onto them.

But I was getting ahead of myself. I've somewhere else to revisit.

This is the Eye in the Sky!

The deluxe room's living room leads to the main bedroom.

Balcony

     

From the Somerset, you can walk to the Friday Mosque and other sites.

The Presidential Palace looks like a doll house and unlike many sovereign establishments, it isn't manned by  a lot of guards.

This area in Male has the country's tallest buildings (not a lot actually). From this building is the main square and the Presidential Jetty.

The Spa in Anantara (Maldives Diaries)

Evoking freedom and harmony, the term "Anantara" means "without end", and this resort chain is found in the most exotic places in the world - Melia, Tanzania; the Desert Islands of Dubai; Jordan. In the Maldives, it's one of the prized resort islands to visit, sitting placidly in the remote sites of the Indian Ocean. It is pricey, but luxury comes with a prize.

I wanted to check out one of their spas, located at the northeastern portion of the island, a few minute walk from their infinity pool. I was welcomed by a gracious Thai girl who ushered me in.

Glass cabins at either side of the main cabins are for traditional massage while the more homey, more intimate ones could be had at any of their rooms. These boast of glass-bottom floors that, while having your kneading done, you could gaze at the schools of sea creatures swimming under water.

There's a bathtub beside a glass window that overlooks the sea. If you'd prefer a relaxing time introspecting on life and the realities back home, this is the place to be.

There are several other spas in every island of Anantara. The one being featured here is located in the main island called Dhigu.

This is the Eye in the Sky!

The pontton from Dhigu where free rides could be had en route to Veli, the honeymoon island.

The water cottages of Veli as seen from Dhigu's spa.

Half a Day in Male - and What to See (Maldives Diaries)

Male, Maldives - I awoke from the chill of the airconditioner. It was 5:30 AM and I could see a bit of sunlight peeping through the curtain line. I got up and worked on my online stuff. By 7:30, I found my way to Olive Restaurant, Hotel Octave’s 5-table food hall at the first floor (2^nd, actually). 

I picked the Olive Breakfast instead of the dreary sounding Continental Breakfast. Something that carries the name of the restaurant must be better than the other options, right? Olive breakfast has 3 toasted bread, butter and jam, 2 pieces of (chicken) sausage, fried egg and orange juice. They also served a fruit platter of delectably sweet papaya and sour oranges.

View from my room at the 5th level.

Narrow streets characterize Male's city roads.

Olive breakfast

Some of the sweetest papayas are found in Male. Their oranges are however sour.

After breakfast, I walked to the front desk manned by a personable chap who was sniffing away his running nose. He handed me a map and perfunctorily instructed where I could go: the souvenir shops, the fish market.

I, of course, wanted to be elsewhere, but I needed to orient myself as to where I could find Majeedi Magu, Male’s main commercial street. After one misdirection, I found Majeedi and walked towards the "Artificial Beach", ironically the capital's only serviceable beach. .

Along the way, I've reoriented myself to familiar sites I've seen from last year: Male’s penchant for either pastel or livid colors; the city hall, Olympus cinema, a couple of mosques, a sundry of garment and electronic shops, an Ace Hardware and finally, the almost deserted Artificial Beach.

Street signs are carved on concrete.

One of the few small mosques found along Mahjeedi Magu. Male has 10 mosques all over the capital.

Another small mosque along the capital's commercial district.

Shopping along Majeedi Magu (above and below).

City Hall

Olympus Screen, one of the only two cinema halls in Male. Unfortunately, Olympus these days caters to children's theatre (recitals), not movies.

"Gadi Iru", a Maldivian film, is shown at the Shwack Cinema located along Haveeri Hingun.

A tree-lined side street.

Delly's Pizza is properly located just a block or so from the Artificial Beach. Its vibrant colors always catches my attention everytime I walk past that part of Majeedi Magu.

The breakwater was lined by tripods that beat the persistent rush of the waves, in the process preventing further erosion.

Without them, it would hasten the sinking of this island. From the promenade, I could see planes steadily arriving at the Ibrahim Nasir International Airport, Maldive’s main airport located in the island of Hulhule.

Not long after, I braved the drizzle to revisit the Tsunami Memorial and the nearby Tripod Monument. I then took a taxi (25 rufiyaa fixed rate, payable with either the dollar or local money) to get to the National Museum.

Artificial Beach, the capital's only leisure beach for swimming.

Tripods protecting the breakwaters against erosion.

Small crabs are found on the tripods.

From the breakwater and the Artificial Beach, you can see the frequent arrival of planes at the adjacent Hulhule island where the main airport is located.

Tsunami Memorial

The devastating Indian Ocean earthquake of 2004 affected Maldives, Indonesia and Thailand. This is dedicated to the people who lost their lives at the tsunami that followed the earthquake. 

Tripod Monument just across the Tsunami Memorial. Paying homage to inanimate structures that help "save" the city from erosion.

Nissan March, our taxi, has fixed 25 -rufiyaa fare.

The museum, once the Sultan's Palace, charges a hefty 50 rufiyaa entrance fee, and a 10 Rf tariff for camera use. To be quite honest, 50 seems exorbitant for a collection of haphazardly arranged, albeit forgettable “memorabilia” (and I realize the irony here). As it was during my first time visit, the petite elderly lady guard was present, but she was less intrusive. 

Afterwards, I tried finding Somerset Hotel and couldn't (I'd be staying there on my last day in atoll country). After scouring half a dozen magus (streets), I gave up and headed towards the Fish Market. It's highly recommended by guide books. I missed it the first time because I thought then that "seeing fish" wouldn't exactly excite me. But in a place with a dearth of local sites, the market proved one of the more interesting places to visit. Way better than the National Museum - or Sultan Park.

Entrance/Exit of the National Museum.

Front of the National Museum

Busy scene in front of the Fish Market

Facing the coast, the market is a row of basins filled with fresh catch, including giant tunas, all plopped on a container for display. It was an interesting traipse into an industry that takes advantage of the populace’s primary source of affordable meat – the fish! 

Being Muslims, Maldivians don’t eat pork and their obvious lack of space disallows herding cows, goats, etc. Chicken meals are prepared halal so you don’t exactly get the taste of chicken the way you’re accustomed with. And, just as an addendum, dog are not allowed all over the archipelago either. This certainly baffles. Who in their right state of consciousness would ban dogs in their midst? Dogs, wrestling, religious articles outside the Koran, pornography, alcohol – they’re all prohibited in the country. Yet – drug addiction is allegedly rampant all over the land. Go figure!

Scenes from the Fish Market.

Iskandhar School along Chandanee Magu, the other commercial street of Male.

Looking for Somerset Hotel.

A mural depicting how Male would be like in a few year's time.

I walked towards the Presidential Jetty (Jetty no. 1), crossed the Republic Square (Jumhooree Maidhaan, considered the heart of Male) amidst greedy pigeons, posed for posterity at the Friday Mosque, hopped at Sultan Park, then hailed a taxi back to Hotel Octave. I had second thoughts if the driver was familiar wth the hotel, but he knew exactly where Kaminee Magu was, navigating through some of the narrowest streets this side of paradise. It was almost 12 noon, check out time.

Presidential Jetty (Jetty no. 1)

Republic Square - the capital's "town plaza" where rallies are held.

Grand Friday Mosque just takes my breath away every time I pass by (above and below).

Friday Mosque's minarets. Visitors are welcome as long as they're properly attired.

A sculpture located at the roundabout, flanked by the Friday Mosque, the Armed Forces headquarters, and Sultan Park.

I was told I could stay in my room until 2:15PM when I’d get taken to the ferry terminal. At 12, I saw myself back to the restaurant. I ordered sweet and sour chicken and a cup of Basmati rice served with cracklingly delicious papadom (thin, crisp disc-shaped Indian food typically based on a seasoned dough made from black gram, fried or cooked with dry heat) – all for 80 Rf, plus sales tax of 6%. The TGST "tax" has been raised to 8% recently but some establishments seem to charge the old rate for some reason.

Sweet and sour chicken 

Basmati rice sprinkled with wisps of onion. Basmati's less sticky than our Philippine varieties.

Fun eating papadom.

WHAT MONEY CANNOT BUY

The ferry terminal was as I remembered it: a flurry of activities filled with inter-island commuters and rushing tourists. I secured my $2 ticket and waited for the only boat traveling to the local island of Maafushi. Just like before, it arrived at 2:35PM, like clock work. 

There weren't sign boards indicating boat arrivals and departures. I had to ask every so often just to make sure I wasn't left behind. My boat was supposedly called Ranthari, but I couldn't find that name written anywhere). We boarded shortly alongside a group of noisy Chinese tourists who annoyed me with their barrage of devil-may-care public auditory display. 

Why do they have to be so loud, I kept wondering. Money obviously cannot buy manners, and if this smacks of prejudice, it is merely borne out of observation and my experiences all over. I noticed a middle-aged German couple and a gay couple whom we saw at Hotel Octave. Like me, they were also on holiday, yet they didn't impose their auditory pollution on the rest of the boat riders.

This is the Eye in the Sky!