The ultimate Indian Ocean island showdown: the Maldives v the Seychelles
It's not often reality says "Screw you, filters, retouching and HDR. We don't need you for our pics." Not just any old beaches some influencer blue-washes to turn heads (and a quid), the Seychelles and the Maldives are already picture-perfect Indian Ocean idylls with endless seascapes, occasional landscapes and coral reefs so clear and brightly coloured they make QLED TV technology look like early celluloid.
But if you have to choose one, without the "benefit" of an influencer's profundity and online editing, the Maldives should be your first resort. The accommodation here is all about opulent hotels - think luxury, then think of a word that means more luxurious than luxury, then double it, and you're still not luxurious enough.
Every hotel chain celebrated for seamless spoiling with a soupcon of sycophancy has staked a sunny, sandy, cerulean spot in the Maldives. Every company that sneers at five-star ratings as mere entry level is here - Ritz-Carlton, Como, St Regis, Six Senses, Four Seasons, Waldorf Astoria, One&Only and dozens more. There's even a Raffles, which offers a mesmerising and entirely appropriate coconut iteration of its famous Singapore Sling to accompany the impossibly gorgeous sunsets.
And most of the Maldives' overwater bungalows and water's edge suites are just a seashell's skip away from an oversized bathtub with lagoon views, private pool, sumptuous day spa and fine-dining restaurants.
The Maldives' average natural elevation is 1.5 metres above sea level, stretching up to a giddying natural high point of 2.4 metres. Mount Villingili looms above you at an altitude of 5.1 metres, and you can make the ascent in thongs and without oxygen, before posing for a triumphant photo at the summit. The Maldives may not offer drone's-eye-view panoramas, but it is the consummate romantic getaway, especially for acrophobic couples. It also tops the list of places to see while you still can. Much of the country is expected to sink beneath the waves within a century, so you'd better hurry if you want to beat the tide.
It's ironic that a paradise endangered by global warming is all about chilling, but this is the Maldivian lure. Dewy-eyed couples can take a break between relaxing and unwinding for a massage, and then don their freshly pressed white linen outfits for dinner and an unfiltered Insta post about foie gras, Veuve Clicquot and languid lagoon life.
Amy will try to tell you the Seychelles is the superior utopia, but just getting there involves making more connections than a job seeker on LinkedIn. She can sell Seychelles by the seashore as much as she likes, but this Mal is a Maldives man, and not just because I can scale a mountain before the ice in my cocktail melts.
By Amy Cooper
The problem with humans is that we can have too much of a good thing. Even when that good thing is a picture-perfect, sundrenched Indian Ocean island idyll. Just ask Tom Hanks and Wilson the volleyball, or the kids in Lord of the Flies. Or my friends, a couple who fell out so ferociously during their romantic Maldives sojourn they weaponised their swizzle sticks. Paradise with no escape route can only end one way: a descent into savagery. Which is why I hope Mal dives in the Maldives, because SCUBA may be all that stands between him and that scene from The Beach where a raving troppo Leo DiCaprio starts swallowing caterpillars.
In the Maldives, you're shipped out to your isolated one-island-one-resort situation and there you remain, on a flat sandy circle devoid of topography, local community or businesses, entirely dependent upon your gilded bubble for sustenance that's served with a monopoly-enabled mark-up. Luxurious, sure, but a trap nonetheless. Like Alcatraz, except with floating breakfast trays.
In the Seychelles, you're gloriously free to roam an entire country of 115 islands, through landscapes dramatic with curves and character: misty mountains rising from the jungle; secret coves; rainforests alive with exotic birds and rare orchids. People come just to gaze at the scattered, stacked and strangely sculptural giant granite boulders on the beaches of the inner Seychelles - the world's only granitic oceanic islands.
Instead of wondering which of your fellow castaways will crack first, you'll be meeting Seychelles locals, immersing in their rich cultural blend of African, European and Asian as you hop between islands like Mahe, Praslin and La Digue, choosing from swanky resorts, family-run guesthouses, eco-lodges or self-catering set-ups. Even if you fly and flop, there's minimal risk of monotony. Mahe alone has 25-plus beaches, ranging from big Beau Vallon with its street food stalls, water sports and epic sunset viewing to surfy Anse Louis and restaurant-dotted Anse Royale.
In Mahe's capital, Victoria, you can eat Creole curries in colonial mansions; inhale Indian, Chinese and African spice aromas amid the bustle of Sir Selwyn Clarke Market; and take a tot at Takamaka Rum Distillery, on an 18th-century estate with two resident giant Aldabra tortoises.
I defy even a teen with a two-minute attention span to tire of the Seychelles. Sea kayaking on Cerf, biking through villages on La Digue or spotting wildlife wonders like rare brown boobies (stop giggling at the back Mal, or you'll be denied parole from the Maldives) in the pristine outer atolls - all these await.
When you fly home, look out for the Maldives down below. You might spot someone spelling out the word "help", in expensive beer bottles on a small, flat, remote and exclusive beach.
By Mal Chenu
It's not often reality says "Screw you, filters, retouching and HDR. We don't need you for our pics." Not just any old beaches some influencer blue-washes to turn heads (and a quid), the Seychelles and the Maldives are already picture-perfect Indian Ocean idylls with endless seascapes, occasional landscapes and coral reefs so clear and brightly coloured they make QLED TV technology look like early celluloid.
But if you have to choose one, without the "benefit" of an influencer's profundity and online editing, the Maldives should be your first resort. The accommodation here is all about opulent hotels - think luxury, then think of a word that means more luxurious than luxury, then double it, and you're still not luxurious enough.
Every hotel chain celebrated for seamless spoiling with a soupcon of sycophancy has staked a sunny, sandy, cerulean spot in the Maldives. Every company that sneers at five-star ratings as mere entry level is here - Ritz-Carlton, Como, St Regis, Six Senses, Four Seasons, Waldorf Astoria, One&Only and dozens more. There's even a Raffles, which offers a mesmerising and entirely appropriate coconut iteration of its famous Singapore Sling to accompany the impossibly gorgeous sunsets.
And most of the Maldives' overwater bungalows and water's edge suites are just a seashell's skip away from an oversized bathtub with lagoon views, private pool, sumptuous day spa and fine-dining restaurants.
The Maldives' average natural elevation is 1.5 metres above sea level, stretching up to a giddying natural high point of 2.4 metres. Mount Villingili looms above you at an altitude of 5.1 metres, and you can make the ascent in thongs and without oxygen, before posing for a triumphant photo at the summit. The Maldives may not offer drone's-eye-view panoramas, but it is the consummate romantic getaway, especially for acrophobic couples. It also tops the list of places to see while you still can. Much of the country is expected to sink beneath the waves within a century, so you'd better hurry if you want to beat the tide.
It's ironic that a paradise endangered by global warming is all about chilling, but this is the Maldivian lure. Dewy-eyed couples can take a break between relaxing and unwinding for a massage, and then don their freshly pressed white linen outfits for dinner and an unfiltered Insta post about foie gras, Veuve Clicquot and languid lagoon life.
Amy will try to tell you the Seychelles is the superior utopia, but just getting there involves making more connections than a job seeker on LinkedIn. She can sell Seychelles by the seashore as much as she likes, but this Mal is a Maldives man, and not just because I can scale a mountain before the ice in my cocktail melts.
By Amy Cooper
The problem with humans is that we can have too much of a good thing. Even when that good thing is a picture-perfect, sundrenched Indian Ocean island idyll. Just ask Tom Hanks and Wilson the volleyball, or the kids in Lord of the Flies. Or my friends, a couple who fell out so ferociously during their romantic Maldives sojourn they weaponised their swizzle sticks. Paradise with no escape route can only end one way: a descent into savagery. Which is why I hope Mal dives in the Maldives, because SCUBA may be all that stands between him and that scene from The Beach where a raving troppo Leo DiCaprio starts swallowing caterpillars.
In the Maldives, you're shipped out to your isolated one-island-one-resort situation and there you remain, on a flat sandy circle devoid of topography, local community or businesses, entirely dependent upon your gilded bubble for sustenance that's served with a monopoly-enabled mark-up. Luxurious, sure, but a trap nonetheless. Like Alcatraz, except with floating breakfast trays.
In the Seychelles, you're gloriously free to roam an entire country of 115 islands, through landscapes dramatic with curves and character: misty mountains rising from the jungle; secret coves; rainforests alive with exotic birds and rare orchids. People come just to gaze at the scattered, stacked and strangely sculptural giant granite boulders on the beaches of the inner Seychelles - the world's only granitic oceanic islands.
Instead of wondering which of your fellow castaways will crack first, you'll be meeting Seychelles locals, immersing in their rich cultural blend of African, European and Asian as you hop between islands like Mahe, Praslin and La Digue, choosing from swanky resorts, family-run guesthouses, eco-lodges or self-catering set-ups. Even if you fly and flop, there's minimal risk of monotony. Mahe alone has 25-plus beaches, ranging from big Beau Vallon with its street food stalls, water sports and epic sunset viewing to surfy Anse Louis and restaurant-dotted Anse Royale.
In Mahe's capital, Victoria, you can eat Creole curries in colonial mansions; inhale Indian, Chinese and African spice aromas amid the bustle of Sir Selwyn Clarke Market; and take a tot at Takamaka Rum Distillery, on an 18th-century estate with two resident giant Aldabra tortoises.
I defy even a teen with a two-minute attention span to tire of the Seychelles. Sea kayaking on Cerf, biking through villages on La Digue or spotting wildlife wonders like rare brown boobies (stop giggling at the back Mal, or you'll be denied parole from the Maldives) in the pristine outer atolls - all these await.
When you fly home, look out for the Maldives down below. You might spot someone spelling out the word "help", in expensive beer bottles on a small, flat, remote and exclusive beach.
By Mal Chenu
It's not often reality says "Screw you, filters, retouching and HDR. We don't need you for our pics." Not just any old beaches some influencer blue-washes to turn heads (and a quid), the Seychelles and the Maldives are already picture-perfect Indian Ocean idylls with endless seascapes, occasional landscapes and coral reefs so clear and brightly coloured they make QLED TV technology look like early celluloid.
But if you have to choose one, without the "benefit" of an influencer's profundity and online editing, the Maldives should be your first resort. The accommodation here is all about opulent hotels - think luxury, then think of a word that means more luxurious than luxury, then double it, and you're still not luxurious enough.
Every hotel chain celebrated for seamless spoiling with a soupcon of sycophancy has staked a sunny, sandy, cerulean spot in the Maldives. Every company that sneers at five-star ratings as mere entry level is here - Ritz-Carlton, Como, St Regis, Six Senses, Four Seasons, Waldorf Astoria, One&Only and dozens more. There's even a Raffles, which offers a mesmerising and entirely appropriate coconut iteration of its famous Singapore Sling to accompany the impossibly gorgeous sunsets.
And most of the Maldives' overwater bungalows and water's edge suites are just a seashell's skip away from an oversized bathtub with lagoon views, private pool, sumptuous day spa and fine-dining restaurants.
The Maldives' average natural elevation is 1.5 metres above sea level, stretching up to a giddying natural high point of 2.4 metres. Mount Villingili looms above you at an altitude of 5.1 metres, and you can make the ascent in thongs and without oxygen, before posing for a triumphant photo at the summit. The Maldives may not offer drone's-eye-view panoramas, but it is the consummate romantic getaway, especially for acrophobic couples. It also tops the list of places to see while you still can. Much of the country is expected to sink beneath the waves within a century, so you'd better hurry if you want to beat the tide.
It's ironic that a paradise endangered by global warming is all about chilling, but this is the Maldivian lure. Dewy-eyed couples can take a break between relaxing and unwinding for a massage, and then don their freshly pressed white linen outfits for dinner and an unfiltered Insta post about foie gras, Veuve Clicquot and languid lagoon life.
Amy will try to tell you the Seychelles is the superior utopia, but just getting there involves making more connections than a job seeker on LinkedIn. She can sell Seychelles by the seashore as much as she likes, but this Mal is a Maldives man, and not just because I can scale a mountain before the ice in my cocktail melts.
By Amy Cooper
The problem with humans is that we can have too much of a good thing. Even when that good thing is a picture-perfect, sundrenched Indian Ocean island idyll. Just ask Tom Hanks and Wilson the volleyball, or the kids in Lord of the Flies. Or my friends, a couple who fell out so ferociously during their romantic Maldives sojourn they weaponised their swizzle sticks. Paradise with no escape route can only end one way: a descent into savagery. Which is why I hope Mal dives in the Maldives, because SCUBA may be all that stands between him and that scene from The Beach where a raving troppo Leo DiCaprio starts swallowing caterpillars.
In the Maldives, you're shipped out to your isolated one-island-one-resort situation and there you remain, on a flat sandy circle devoid of topography, local community or businesses, entirely dependent upon your gilded bubble for sustenance that's served with a monopoly-enabled mark-up. Luxurious, sure, but a trap nonetheless. Like Alcatraz, except with floating breakfast trays.
In the Seychelles, you're gloriously free to roam an entire country of 115 islands, through landscapes dramatic with curves and character: misty mountains rising from the jungle; secret coves; rainforests alive with exotic birds and rare orchids. People come just to gaze at the scattered, stacked and strangely sculptural giant granite boulders on the beaches of the inner Seychelles - the world's only granitic oceanic islands.
Instead of wondering which of your fellow castaways will crack first, you'll be meeting Seychelles locals, immersing in their rich cultural blend of African, European and Asian as you hop between islands like Mahe, Praslin and La Digue, choosing from swanky resorts, family-run guesthouses, eco-lodges or self-catering set-ups. Even if you fly and flop, there's minimal risk of monotony. Mahe alone has 25-plus beaches, ranging from big Beau Vallon with its street food stalls, water sports and epic sunset viewing to surfy Anse Louis and restaurant-dotted Anse Royale.
In Mahe's capital, Victoria, you can eat Creole curries in colonial mansions; inhale Indian, Chinese and African spice aromas amid the bustle of Sir Selwyn Clarke Market; and take a tot at Takamaka Rum Distillery, on an 18th-century estate with two resident giant Aldabra tortoises.
I defy even a teen with a two-minute attention span to tire of the Seychelles. Sea kayaking on Cerf, biking through villages on La Digue or spotting wildlife wonders like rare brown boobies (stop giggling at the back Mal, or you'll be denied parole from the Maldives) in the pristine outer atolls - all these await.
When you fly home, look out for the Maldives down below. You might spot someone spelling out the word "help", in expensive beer bottles on a small, flat, remote and exclusive beach.
By Mal Chenu
It's not often reality says "Screw you, filters, retouching and HDR. We don't need you for our pics." Not just any old beaches some influencer blue-washes to turn heads (and a quid), the Seychelles and the Maldives are already picture-perfect Indian Ocean idylls with endless seascapes, occasional landscapes and coral reefs so clear and brightly coloured they make QLED TV technology look like early celluloid.
But if you have to choose one, without the "benefit" of an influencer's profundity and online editing, the Maldives should be your first resort. The accommodation here is all about opulent hotels - think luxury, then think of a word that means more luxurious than luxury, then double it, and you're still not luxurious enough.
Every hotel chain celebrated for seamless spoiling with a soupcon of sycophancy has staked a sunny, sandy, cerulean spot in the Maldives. Every company that sneers at five-star ratings as mere entry level is here - Ritz-Carlton, Como, St Regis, Six Senses, Four Seasons, Waldorf Astoria, One&Only and dozens more. There's even a Raffles, which offers a mesmerising and entirely appropriate coconut iteration of its famous Singapore Sling to accompany the impossibly gorgeous sunsets.
And most of the Maldives' overwater bungalows and water's edge suites are just a seashell's skip away from an oversized bathtub with lagoon views, private pool, sumptuous day spa and fine-dining restaurants.
The Maldives' average natural elevation is 1.5 metres above sea level, stretching up to a giddying natural high point of 2.4 metres. Mount Villingili looms above you at an altitude of 5.1 metres, and you can make the ascent in thongs and without oxygen, before posing for a triumphant photo at the summit. The Maldives may not offer drone's-eye-view panoramas, but it is the consummate romantic getaway, especially for acrophobic couples. It also tops the list of places to see while you still can. Much of the country is expected to sink beneath the waves within a century, so you'd better hurry if you want to beat the tide.
It's ironic that a paradise endangered by global warming is all about chilling, but this is the Maldivian lure. Dewy-eyed couples can take a break between relaxing and unwinding for a massage, and then don their freshly pressed white linen outfits for dinner and an unfiltered Insta post about foie gras, Veuve Clicquot and languid lagoon life.
Amy will try to tell you the Seychelles is the superior utopia, but just getting there involves making more connections than a job seeker on LinkedIn. She can sell Seychelles by the seashore as much as she likes, but this Mal is a Maldives man, and not just because I can scale a mountain before the ice in my cocktail melts.
By Amy Cooper
The problem with humans is that we can have too much of a good thing. Even when that good thing is a picture-perfect, sundrenched Indian Ocean island idyll. Just ask Tom Hanks and Wilson the volleyball, or the kids in Lord of the Flies. Or my friends, a couple who fell out so ferociously during their romantic Maldives sojourn they weaponised their swizzle sticks. Paradise with no escape route can only end one way: a descent into savagery. Which is why I hope Mal dives in the Maldives, because SCUBA may be all that stands between him and that scene from The Beach where a raving troppo Leo DiCaprio starts swallowing caterpillars.
In the Maldives, you're shipped out to your isolated one-island-one-resort situation and there you remain, on a flat sandy circle devoid of topography, local community or businesses, entirely dependent upon your gilded bubble for sustenance that's served with a monopoly-enabled mark-up. Luxurious, sure, but a trap nonetheless. Like Alcatraz, except with floating breakfast trays.
In the Seychelles, you're gloriously free to roam an entire country of 115 islands, through landscapes dramatic with curves and character: misty mountains rising from the jungle; secret coves; rainforests alive with exotic birds and rare orchids. People come just to gaze at the scattered, stacked and strangely sculptural giant granite boulders on the beaches of the inner Seychelles - the world's only granitic oceanic islands.
Instead of wondering which of your fellow castaways will crack first, you'll be meeting Seychelles locals, immersing in their rich cultural blend of African, European and Asian as you hop between islands like Mahe, Praslin and La Digue, choosing from swanky resorts, family-run guesthouses, eco-lodges or self-catering set-ups. Even if you fly and flop, there's minimal risk of monotony. Mahe alone has 25-plus beaches, ranging from big Beau Vallon with its street food stalls, water sports and epic sunset viewing to surfy Anse Louis and restaurant-dotted Anse Royale.
In Mahe's capital, Victoria, you can eat Creole curries in colonial mansions; inhale Indian, Chinese and African spice aromas amid the bustle of Sir Selwyn Clarke Market; and take a tot at Takamaka Rum Distillery, on an 18th-century estate with two resident giant Aldabra tortoises.
I defy even a teen with a two-minute attention span to tire of the Seychelles. Sea kayaking on Cerf, biking through villages on La Digue or spotting wildlife wonders like rare brown boobies (stop giggling at the back Mal, or you'll be denied parole from the Maldives) in the pristine outer atolls - all these await.
When you fly home, look out for the Maldives down below. You might spot someone spelling out the word "help", in expensive beer bottles on a small, flat, remote and exclusive beach.
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- Sydney Morning Herald
I found an amazing restaurant overseas, but I won't go back
They capture these experiences on their phones of course, and post them on social media, because what's the point of visiting one of the darlings of Insta and TikTok – an eatery that has gone viral many times – if you're not going to stake your own claim. Bar Nestor was always popular – but then it got really, really popular. People started posting it on social media (and yes, I'm one of those people), and it kicked off. It went from being 'a' place to go in San Sebastian, to being 'the' place to go in San Sebastian. Hence, the queues. Hence, the fact I haven't been back in five or six years – I don't want to line up for hours for something I used to just walk in for. This is just one example of something that is happening all over the world right now. Those little secrets don't stay secret for long. You could have a favourite little restaurant (at home or abroad), a place you call into all the time, somewhere family-run, friendly. And then one day you will arrive and there will be a huge queue out the front. It will be there tomorrow, and the next day, and next week and maybe next year. Your little secret has gone viral. Loading An influencer I follow, who has a very large social media account – almost a million followers – posted recently about a tiny local restaurant in Greece, on the island of Folegrandos. It's a modest place, run by an elderly couple who don't have a menu, barely even a kitchen. They just make beautiful Greek food each day, and serve it to whomever comes in. This influencer gushed about how perfect it was, how charming. But people commented: Why are you telling everyone about this? The place will be overrun. It will never be the restaurant that you found ever again. There's a question we all have to ask ourselves as travellers now. This used to be something only a certain few would have to ponder, travel writers, celebrities, those with a following. But now everyone has to think: should I reveal my secrets? Loading It's not just restaurants either, it's viewpoints, natural phenomena, cultural attractions, entire towns, cities or even countries. You discover them and you want to share them. You're excited about them. And yes, there's some ego at play here – look at what I found. Look at how amazing it is. There's an urge to shout it from the rooftops, to tell the world. You might have only a modest following on social media of family and friends, but these things can go viral quickly, they can reach the world. And what happens then? It can be good or bad, or both. It can save a struggling business. It can bring tourism dollars to a part of the world that desperately needs it. Or, it can bring hordes of people to a place that was only ever good because it didn't have hordes of people, because it was charming, because it was quiet. I think about this all the time, but you should too. What is the effect of calling attention to a venue, a business, an attraction, a place? Will it benefit or will it be harmed? Will the extra attention be welcome, or will it destroy the very thing you're trying to spread the word about? That influencer who posted about the Greek restaurant has since deleted his post. It's far too late, however, for Bar Nestor.
