Maldives | The sweet sound of the surf

In hindsight, all the hotels and resorts of the world are associated, imprinted in my memory, with one sense. Some I remember for their amazing scent, such as the lemongrass in Kerala’s appropriately named Spice Village. Others through that of taste, like the outstanding Indian meal I had once at Grosvenor House in Dubai. Kanuhura is about sound.

All day and night the turf beats against the imaginary wall of sand surrounding this intensely pretty island in the southern part of the Maldivian archipelago. It is the same kind of sound that the sea makes in Malta when it is ferociously windy. Here, however, the turf is all bark and just a little bit of playful bite.

In the morning, right outside Beach Villa 114, it is this turf and its mate the light that wake me up. It is one alarm clock that I cannot press a 10-minute pause on, and that’s because I do not want to. The lilac tones of sunrise stream straight into the room and the bed, as one would expect, challenges them head on. I try to find the words to describe the caress of the light but give up and wish I was an artist instead, or simply a decent photographer. There is no ‘sunrise’ mode on my gizmo-laden camera; just sunset.

The Maldives are packed with hundreds of resorts, many of them slotting comfortably in the luxury category. Kanuhura, on the eastern rim of the Lhaviyani Atoll is one of them. It is very manageable and walking around, checking the orchids growing around the trees and the bushes of bougainvillea spilling out of pots, becomes my pastime. Any time I like I could call for a ‘taxi’, aka one of the chauffeured buggies, to take me to the Mediterranean or Asian restaurants but there is a limit to how slothful I can be. Others take this ‘energised’ mode much further: I have watched many joggers, some wearing bikinis, others professionally clad with bits of machinery around their waist, running on the sand. My extreme sports is more akin to a few sun salutations in front of my porch with the sand as my supportive mat. Hell, even watching the joggers tires me out.

Kanuhura has a brilliant little island called Jehunuhura right across and I hop on the speedboat which takes me there, where I spend a good few hours doing sweet nothing. Well, not really ‘nothing’– I read, sunbathe and snorkel. The underwater life in the Maldives is not called the most beautiful open-air aquarium for nothing – it is positively teeming. There are dolphins around these waters and one fine evening, I join a Korean couple, a Japanese agent who is on a look-see and my friend Dominik who works here, and we set off on a dhoni.

Dolphin-sighting is taken very seriously at Kanuhura and because dolphins love and are attracted to the sound of drums, we are accompanied by two professional Maldivian musicians who bang beautifully and sing sorrowfully on board. Everybody claps and the dolphins come, slithering up to our boat, making that chirpy sound they make. I wonder if I should reach over and touch them but decide to just watch enthralled instead. It is like being on a safari, only in turquoise waters with the sun setting in a huge red ball right opposite. Two huge turtles jump around in the deep waters ahead then dive into the deep blue and disappear, leading me to wonder if I am seeing things. It is amazing how fast they can be in the water. Piper Heidsieck champagne flows. Bliss.

Most resorts in the Maldives are besieged by insects. I have been in some which also boast a way too healthy rat population. There is a limit to how far I will take my eco credentials but here I do not have to. The only animals I see are the ones I want to see. There are fewer mosquitoes than normally make it into my bedroom at home and the butler Farey brings me some coils to avoid the odd couple buzzing around. In the evening, and during the day, tens of chameleons jump off palm trees and run off. The sand is full of shells, only here they are alive and surprisingly fast, and as white as the pristine sand.

Kanuhura belongs to Sun Resorts International and in the past three months it has had one brilliant addition called Vladimir Scanu, one of those hotel people who manage to turn around even the most fabulous of hostelries. I met Vladimir in Mauritius where he worked the tables, as Residence Manager, like a wave. Here, I can feel him working his buzzy magic already. I ask him what, as the ‘new’ GM, he plans to change and his answer comes out thick and fast. I can compress all of that into ‘anything man-made’.

I am looking forward to coming back to Kanuhura and checking how he has alchemised the place. He knows not to do otherwise. The one thing I know I will recognise, though, is the sound of the turf. That will surely stay.

Mona Farrugia is a food and travel writer from Malta. Her work has been syndicated internationally, including in India. Follow her on twitter and facebook or on her website where she is currently blogging live from a solo trip to the Maldives.