Late last year, as 2025 softened around its edges, I travelled through the Maldives with a group of friends, six of us moving together through light, water and time. Over six days and three all-inclusive resorts, we learnt the quiet intimacy of shared escape — mornings that began without words, laughter carried across lagoons, and the rare luxury of being fully present, not alone but deeply accompanied.
Big Island Energy!
Our journey began at Siyam World, the largest resort in the Maldives, reached by a seaplane flight from Velana International Airport that skimmed low over scattered cerulean-hued atolls before descending beside a vast, self-contained island. From the outset, scale defined the experience. Paths stretched long, Mini Moke cars zipped past, bicycles leaned casually against villas, and movement felt encouraged rather than contained.
Days unfolded with choice at their center. We drifted between lagoon swims, the Maldives’ largest floating waterpark, snorkeling sessions, and long lunches that never seemed to require planning. The WOW All-Inclusive plan removed all friction, allowing us to eat by impulse — Maldivian dishes at Kaage, Indian comfort at Kurry Leaf, Japanese plates at Arigato, Italian evenings at Del Mare — each meal part of a seamless circuit rather than a scheduled event.
Nights were where Siyam World surprised us most. Cinema by Moonlight took place on a gently drifting dhoni, the traditional wooden Maldivian boat, where The Holiday played beneath a sky heavy with stars. Champagne glasses caught the light as the boat rocked softly, the film unfolding in an intimate way that can only be shared with friends. On another evening, a movie screened directly on the beach, waves threading quietly through the soundtrack. Siyam World thrives on energy, but it understands how to slow it when needed, and by the time we left, we carried a buoyant sense of having truly lived inside the island.
A softer pace
A short boat ride brought us to Sun Siyam Iru Fushi, and the shift in atmosphere was immediate. Spread across a lush 52-acre island, Iru Fushi feels expansive yet inward-looking, its wide beaches edged by dense greenery, its villas positioned for quiet rather than display.
Here, time loosened. Mornings began slowly, coffee taken on decks facing open water, followed by snorkeling over Nemo Reef or long stretches by the adults-only infinity pool. Afternoons slipped away without notice, shaped by shade, water and the absence of urgency.
Dining mirrored this gentler rhythm. Evenings lingered over French cuisine at Flavours, Italian comfort at The Trio, or Indian flavours at Taste of India, each meal part of a dine-around experience that encouraged staying longer than planned. Conversation stretched naturally, courses arrived without rush, and the island seemed to absorb sound rather than reflect it.
The Spa by Thalgo became a quiet anchor to our stay. Marine-based treatments, hydrotherapy rituals, and shaded walkways created a sense of recalibration, as though the island was gently resetting internal clocks. Iru Fushi excels at balance — families and couples sharing space without friction — and when we left, it felt like stepping back into motion after a long, necessary pause.
Life on the lagoon
Our final stop was Sun Siyam Olhuveli, reached by a short flight and transfer, and immediately defined by water. Spread across three interconnected islands — Main, Dream and Romance — Olhuveli is shaped by movement between spaces, with bridges hovering above bright lagoons and activity unfolding in every direction.
Days here felt communal. Mornings drifted from breakfast to poolside lounging, afternoons were claimed by windsurfing, kitesurfing, or simply floating in a lagoon built for lingering. With eight pools, including the Maldives’ longest, there was always space to gather without crowding.
Dining played a central role in drawing people together. Beachfront grills, overwater restaurants, Indian dinners at Namaste, Thai evenings at Siyam Orchid, and sunset drinks at Dhoni Bar created a steady rhythm of meeting and parting. Evenings felt social without ceremony.
Cinema returned for a final time, this time on the beach, where Find Me Falling played beneath an open sky. Plush beanbags replaced seats, sand replaced flooring, and conversation resumed the moment the credits rolled. It felt fitting that our last shared film was watched together, the sea steady just beyond the screen.
By the end of six days, what stayed with me was not just the clarity of the water or the generosity of the stays, but how distinctly each resort shaped our time in the Maldives. Siyam World encouraged motion and play, Iru Fushi offered stillness, and Olhuveli brought everyone back into shared experience. Together, they formed a journey that felt complete and, if I’m being honest, very hard to see the end of…
(The writer is the Editor of Fresh, a food and lifestyle magazine)
