Back to Baros: What happened when we returned to our island paradise

Back to Baros: What happened when we returned to our island paradise

Should you ever try to recreate a perfect trip from the past, or should you keep it in memory?

When my editor at Asian Woman Magazine sent me on a trip to the Maldives, I couldn't believe it. A week on the luxurious private island of Baros with flights, accommodation and all paid excursions seemed thoroughly fantastic. Also, I was told to take my boyfriend with me on this would-be honeymoon.

That was in 2012 and while Peter and I had been to Italy, Iceland and Cambodia together, nowhere was it more idyllic. With sky-high expectations, we flew to Malé, the capital of the Maldives, and took a private speedboat to Baros Island.

PR imageThe idyllic island of Baros Maldives

The trip was predictably perfect. We ate on a private sandbank, sailed with dolphins, drank champagne on a Dhoni ship and sampled a nine-course meal. In short, we couldn't believe our luck.

What we didn't know at the time was that Baros Maldives would set an incredibly high water mark against which we would compare our future trips. Over the next decade we traveled to around 50 countries together, including stunning beach destinations such as St. Kitts and Nevis, Bora Bora, Fiji, Mauritius and the Cook Islands. While some of these places came close, none rivaled Baros.

PR imageBaros Maldives has set an incredibly high water mark

Peter and I always talked about returning theoretically. We rearranged days and activities to hypothetically create the perfect week: dinner on the beach instead of at the lighthouse, diving instead of snorkeling, maybe a second massage. Given the costs involved, we never thought we would actually do it.

However, after two years of lockdown, we wanted a way to live again. For years I had been on a treadmill, publishing my novels, “Take It Back,” then “Truth Be Told,” then “Next of Kin,” and writing “The People Next Door.” I hadn't rewarded myself for this work. Plus, I was turning 40 - so we decided: let's spend the money and go back to Baros Maldives.

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Atlas & Boots

We decided to return to Baros

We were immediately advised against it. Our neighbors told us that you can't recreate the perfect trip; that it was better as a perfect memory, but I knew I would regret never going back and decided to take the risk.

Peter and I booked a week with Baros and made the 12 hour flight from London. Upon arrival we were escorted to our beautiful beach villa six hours before official check-in. It was like getting an extra day for free and we were very happy.

Unfortunately our joy didn't last. As I walked out onto our shady porch, my heart sank. The first time we stayed at Baros, our room overlooked a stretch of beach that was largely our own, aside from one or two couples out for an evening stroll. This time we found ourselves standing in front of a jetty occupied by a stranger parading in his swimming trunks. He had hung his boxer shorts on the parasol, which swayed in the wind. He stood in the middle of my field of vision, rubbed his beer belly, and then scratched his butt.

PR imageView of the porch area

I gave him my best death stare, but he happily said hello, then pulled his Speedos out of an invisible crevice and collapsed onto a lounger. This was not the romantic private paradise I was expecting.

Me, being the Brit that I am, asked if maybe, maybe, possibly, they would be kind enough to move us to another room. We were told the only other beach villa available was right next to the bar. With live music five out of seven nights it would be neither quiet nor quiet.

I asked if they would perhaps put us in a different room type (codespeak for please upgrade) but was immediately told that this would cost extra. That was a bit of a rude awakening. I had assumed that given the astronomical costs involved, they would find a way to solve the problem. This trip was the culmination of four years of hard work, but the view was anything but luxurious. I realized that maybe our neighbors had been right after all.

I pressed the issue but was rejected again. After my third attempt at being polite, I'm sorry to say that I've gone all out on Karen. I asked to speak to the manager but was told he was unavailable. Peter tried to calm me down, but I really wanted to change. For better or worse, I've gained insight into why rich people are so often entitled. Back in our room, I sent the manager a picture of our unwanted guest scratching his butt again.

Within an hour we were upgraded to a water villa. It makes me sad to say this, but sometimes you just have to be an asshole.

Atlas & Boots

We were upgraded to a Water Villa

From there, things immediately improved. While there were little bugbears that didn't exist 10 years ago - high-rise buildings on the horizon, concrete defenses to support the beach - there were also significant improvements. The food, for example, was absolutely exquisite. We also stayed in a water villa with direct access to the Indian Ocean. This was the experience we hoped to repeat.

As another risk, we decided to repeat the sandbar dinner, a luxurious experience where we sailed to a tiny sandbar and were wined and dined by a private chef. Our first experience in 2012 was completely flawless. This time we had a weaker sunset and stronger wind. The latter meant that instead of the gentle yellow flame, we dined in bright artificial light. Trivial, yes, but that is precisely the danger of repeating a perfect trip. Any small deficiency can affect your week.

I fought the wind and searched my bag for a hair band or even a face mask to tie my hair up with. Finally I tamed it with a pen. After champagne and canapes we settled in for dinner. Chef Dinusha created an absolute feast. As we moved through the first course, we were joined by dozens of crabs scurrying around the edge of the light. While Peter found this charming, I was unsettled by it. Nevertheless, we had a completely magical evening. I was worried the experience wouldn't live up to the memory - especially since we were paying for it this time - but it absolutely did.

Atlas & Boots

Our sandbank dinner

The rest of the week was a dreamy blur of swimming, snorkeling, drinking and eating. So, in retrospect, was it worth it or were our neighbors right?

Despite the start-up difficulties, despite the strong winds, the crabs and the small differences, I have to say, yes, that was it. This was a place I had dreamed of for more than 10 years. If I had never visited again, I know I would have regretted it.

There's something to be said for living with a perfect memory; taking it out every now and then to admire it in the light and then putting it away for safekeeping. Trying to recreate it can go horribly wrong - as ours almost did - but in the end it was worth the risk. Now we can remember two perfect memories.

Mission statement: Atlas & Boots

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