Magnificent Laamu

The Greater Malé Region is a hot mess, and not in the saucy context that Hollywood has been using at every opportunity. No one can deny that… former and latter. Despite the efforts by the government to control the population density through decentralization and immigration control, the islands that are now collectively known as “Malé City” have become a nightmarish hodgepodge of uncontrollable roadside parking, drivers driving uncontrollably, and perhaps the most frustrating of all, the lack of the quiet leisure that the Maldives and its citizens have enjoyed for centuries.

Our ancestors would be spinning in their graves if they knew the hurried lives that their offspring have taken on, in their attempt to westernize themselves, following suit with the rest of the Asian countries.

Get this: if I didn’t have to go to Hulhumalé or Vilingili, I could easily spend several months without seeing the ocean by simply going from home to work and back, within Maafannu. Besides, the place is so small, that you’d stop nodding at your friends when you bump into them on the street the 4th or 5th time the same day.

Me? I needed a break. I have been to Laamu before and knew the way around. I often long for the crisp air and the super white-hot sunlight that streams all year-round because of how absolutely close to the equator the atoll is. And to my mind, the sea within the atoll is somehow a slightly different shade of deep blue than the rest of the atolls.

Getting there is easy enough. Get to Velana International Airport, go to the domestic terminal, hop on a plane that’s going to Kadhdhoo, and that’s it, really. There are a number of options that you can choose from, for where you’re going to sleep and eat. I typically choose to rent out rooms from friends or acquaintances, because I like to have a full-on island experience than a curated version of the Maldives.

Getting out of Malé and from under the baleful haze of the Atmospheric Brown Cloud that seems to get worse every year, and stepping into air that’s free of the perpetual miasma of summery humidness of still sea air containing vehicle fumes, ubiquitous clouds of cigarette smoke and construction dust and blasts of foul air from exhausts funnelling air from tiny kitchens and overstuffed living quarters, directly into the streets.

The airport was quick and painless, like domestic airports are supposed to be. It’s just a few minutes of waiting for your luggage to get to the terminal from the airport, and moments later, I’m hanging out with my friends.

Before the Sinamalé bridge was built, it wasn’t possible to go on a long ride in Malé. Laamu has about 17 kilometers of highways and causeways connecting four islands. The drive drom Fonadhoo to Gan can easily take about 30 minutes at the speed limit; longer if you want to act like your ancestors and take a more leisurely pace and a meandering path with multiple Instagram, Snapchat and TikTok stops.

These connected communities aren’t like the ones here in Malé. Houses clump together in villages and neighborhoods, unlike ultra-urban Malé. There’s one thing that’s common to all the islands of the Maldives though. Everyone in each community somehow knows each other, is either your neighbour, or related to you from way back.

So yes, island folk will know the instant there’s someone on the island that’s not one of them. One of these is not like the others…

If you walk westward across the second largest island in the country, Gan, you’ll end up on a magnificent beach with a lovely view across the gigantic reef with seldom a rock or a coral in the shallows. This beach is covered with creamy white coral sands for miles and miles, as far as the eyes could see.

Meanwhile the trees on the island are nearly the size of those typically found in ancient forests, with ancient, majestic boughs swaying gently in the breeze. The fragrance of the ferns that surround the brackish ponds is quite unique, and a welcome relief from the urban scents back at the capital… although you’ll need to worry about a different kind of cloud that swoops down and actively follows you around wherever you go: mosquitoes.

I typically stock up on various types of repellent. One thing about the Maldives is its unpredictability in throwing sickness at you. The Maldives is luckily free of Malaria, but there had been cases of dengue fever scattered throughout the country, and since you’ll be walking around the beach and through woods, it would be prudent to take preventative measures.

The islands of Gan and Fonadhoo were also enlarged by reclamation of land from the lagoon. It was also nominated to be one of the regional centres, thus, tertiary level hospitals, university faculties and other urban level facilities are available on the island. So, unlike smaller islands, you are closer to a doctor or a surgeon in the rare case that you need to be.

Typically, Laamu experiences the same kind of climate, if not hotter than Malé. However, the roads can become hot and dusty between the summery showers in the wintertime and squally weeks during the spring monsoons. But unlike Malé, you won’t have to worry about dripping drainpipes onto the pavement, and you can splash through as many puddles as you like – within reason – and not worry about wading through a thick stew of cat faeces, dead rodents and other generally biodegradable materials.

There aren’t many entertainment options here in the Maldives in general, and Laamu is no different. However, in the Maldives, entertainment is something that you’ll have to organize and almost always involves some kind of expedition. It hasn’t changed much over the centuries.

A quiet picnic by the beach? Let’s go to a deserted island! Fishing? Even something small, like setting up at the jetty, there’s a disproportionally long (and sometimes tedious) amount of preparation.

Yes, that means that if any islander ever asks you to join their barbeque, or the fishing trip, that means they can truly tolerate you for more than just an hour over some coffee. But just going for a drive along that gorgeous stretch of highway is quite the evening anyway.

But the entire beauty of Laamu isn’t on the joined islands. There’s Isdhoo-Kalaidhoo to the north of the island, with plenty of sight-seeing to do. The reef around the island is several miles long, so the entrance to the island is just as impressive as the thick woods that are all around the two farming townships on the island that have always been quite competitive.

Most young Maldivians are often surprised to find out that the Maldives has islands large enough to have had small scale commercial farming for decades. You’ll see a lot of different kinds of tech being used… with vertical farming the most recent exploration that is now slowly being commercialized. The Maldivian archipelago does not have the soil in which grain and cereals grow well, so it is the challenge of the 21st century to achieve food security for the burgeoning population.

Gan and Fonadhoo islands are linked with the airport Kadhdhoo – which makes reaching the destination a piece of cake – and with Maandhoo, which has a fisheries factory and harbor. This stretch of land has more than 8 districts with industrial, agricultural and tourism zones.

The quiet village life is now slowly fading, as the fast-paced urban lifestyle continues to make inroads into watermelon and pumpkin patches, and is sweeping away the idyllic life that the Maldivian ancestors sought in these lands. Periurban style closely packed houses are slowly encroaching into the agricultural lands, while entire groves of coconut trees have been cut down to make way for roads and buildings.

While the local authorities have made efforts to replant the trees that were removed, this significant reduction in tree cover for the canopy of the island, accelerates erosion through wind and wave action.