Maldives – Just Another Sandy Beach?
I confess I’m not a conventional wife when it comes to travel. While most women would jump for joy at the prospect of a fancy beach vacation at one of the world’s premier luxury honeymoon meccas, my first reaction to the news that Jimmy had booked us a trip to the Maldives was, inexplicably, less than enthusiastic.
“Why do we need to fly halfway around the world to sit around at a beach? Aren’t there nice beaches nearby that are easier to get to? What are we going to do for five whole days on a secluded island in the middle of the Indian Ocean?”
Ah yes, definitely not the typical wife or girlfriend response. Perhaps not the typical human response, period.
But before I get accused of being disingenuous about my reaction, note the backstory. During our banking days, we had gotten more than our fill of lazy beach vacations, the type of trips where you fly to an exotic beach locale in southeast Asia and simply park yourself in front of a pool, eat, splash in the water, fall asleep and rinse and repeat. Back then, we needed those mind-numbing sojourns to recharge our batteries and regain our strength for another stint of 90 hour work weeks.
These days, our lives are noticeably less hectic and we’ve found that we much preferred active, outdoor excursions where our days are spent hiking the mountain trails as opposed to camping by the pool. No judgment, just a shift in preference.
Which is why the thought of flying to a fancy schmancy secluded island known for $2,000+ a night accommodations, obligatory $500+ 20-miniute seaplane rides and overpriced cocktails didn’t particularly appeal to me. Mileage or no mileage, points or no points.
In the end, reason prevailed (massive impending point devaluation – yikes!) and Jimmy got his fancy beach vacation.
Me? What did I get?
Mind. Totally blown.