Standing on the bone-white sand, gazing into the clear water, I watched a blacktip reef shark cruise past my big toe. It was a tiny shark, maybe 10 inches long, but it moved as if a major predator: I imagined that in its mind it was the terror of tiny things.
"Do they bite?" I asked.
"No, they are completely harmless," said Ali, operations manager of Vilu Reef, a resort on the Maldivian atoll of South Nilandhe. "We've only had one incident with them. A small boy of maybe four managed to catch one, which is hard , and he carried it up the beach and dropped it in the swimming pool." There was, he said, pandemonium.
My gaze rose, over a sea richer in fish than your average aquarium, past cabanas on stilts over the water, past the reef to where a blue seaplane was landing with more guests. The Maldives, coral islands on long-extinct volcanoes, pulsed in the sun – a million visions of paradise.
I'd never thought of visiting the atolls, seeing it as a bit posh, a bit package. A friend from British Airways changed my mind. He complained that because so many visitors to the Maldives were on honeymoon (or were just plain rich), the front of their flights were always packed, while economy sat empty. I got to wondering whether it was possible to visit on the cheap.
Well, it's not easy. One option is to avoid the tourist islands, of which there are a little short of 100, and go to the local islands, which number 200. That way you will get the flavour of the real Maldivian life, in all its Islamic constraints. It's fascinating, but there's no booze, you'll spend days trying to get around on small ferries, and have to swim in a burqa (for men, that's optional).
Most of us who work full-time would, I guess, rather indulge the dream. So I looked for a resort that wasn't a five-star tower of marble and palm fronds and which offered deals out of season. The result was Vilu Reef, a truly international experience.
"The Chinese are arriving in ever-larger numbers," said Ali. "And you know what's interesting? Not many Chinese people swim."
We were walking across the island, under the shade of the palms and through the lush and scented undergrowth, a journey which took all of five minutes.
"Then what do the Chinese do here?" I asked. "The island's tiny."
"Well they walk round and round until they are bored and then they dive in. Our lifeguards are trained to look out for it. We pull them out and then we say, 'We can arrange swimming lessons.'"
The truth is that downgrading the price takes away little of the luxury. There's family accommodation in the trees, beach huts that give on to the white sand, and houses on stilts out on the reef. These last offer steps down into the sea, with adventures in snorkelling limited only by the spectacular sunsets. There are Thai masseurs. The food is hilariously international, offering staples from Beijing to Berlin, prepared by charming Bangladeshi chefs who also do fabulous curries and a mean grilled fish.
Then there are one's fellow holiday makers. I took a sunset walk, passing Italian and Russian honeymooners creating mini-photoshoots. Brides in bikinis posed half in, half out of the azure water, their backs arched and hair flung back like models in Sports Illustrated. I imagined the small reef sharks negotiating their way round the women's toes. It was touching, seeing this, their creating of a nirvana in the sunset, on coral white, where they looked their well-loved best. These were best-of-times photos being made.
Theirs is the dream that unfolds as the seaplane's wing dips down and an island like the one plastered on the ads of some cold underground station comes to life. It's impossible not to buy into it. A traditional boat sat moored in a small lagoon, which I clung to when I was swimming. The reef beyond was an extravaganza of sea-life, dazzling creatures untroubled by my passing presence.
Still, I felt a little guilty at how removed I was from the Maldives itself, so I hired a boat to take me across to a local island. I was expecting an Indian sort of poverty, but I was wrong. Eight vast fishing boats were lined up along the quay, waiting out Friday prayers before putting to sea to line-fish tuna. Shipwrights were at work in makeshift yards between seafront villas. No one was too busy to stop for a chat. Metal frames covered in fishing nets provided outdoor seating for the covered-up women.
In a rooftop café, where men sat smoking, I drank Maldivian coffee and ate local snacks – tuna and coconut masroshi, bajiya fritters and a slightly astringent mouth-cleanser of nuts, leaf and karanfoo, or clove. The guide, Rasheed, showed me pictures of his Chinese girlfriend on Facebook. There were two great differences between islands only 500m apart. One was mosquitoes. The other was the vast fruit bats that crashed into the trees above us at dusk. Neither, apparently, is tolerated where the tourists stay.
At the end of the trip, I boarded the flight and turned right. As promised, the economy cabin was almost empty except for one of the world's most famous and sophisticated actors (I'll spare her the name-check since she was on holiday). She knew what she was doing: when I went to the loo, I noticed she was sleeping full length across the middle aisle in the arms of her boyfriend.
Essentials
Travelbag (travelbag.co.uk; 0871 7 034 240) is offering seven nights for the price of six at Vilu Reef Beach and Spa Resort from £1,289 per person. The price includes return flights from Gatwick with Emirates, accommodation in a villa on a half-board basis, resort seaplane transfers, taxes and surcharges. British Airways return prices start from £815, including all taxes, fees and charges.
