The pulsating drone of the twin propellors drowned out every other sound, leaving my emotions to completely fill the void. I was feeling low. But the haunting question was why? As I looked back towards the ever diminishing island of Dhuni Kolhu, positioned to perfection within the Baa Atoll, bathed in the crystal clear Indian ocean that caresses the hundreds of pinpricks of paradise forming the Maldives, the answer became clear ─ a precious commodity I never thought I would cherish was slipping from my grasp: seclusion.
For seven days I’d not worn anything on my feet, watched television, or even conversed with unacquainted travellers. Better still, save a few words briefly overheard at dinner, the lack of fellow countryfolk was a somewhat spectacular experience. Being the most disconnected I’d ever been in my entire life ─ aside from the mobile phone ─ permanently on airplane mode ─ was a treasure I had never sought; before now.
But first, let me take you back a week …
Returning to the Maldives for a second time in just over twelve months, I was privileged to know the givens: scintillating white sands framed by elegant palm trees, bathwater warm sea, and a plethora of exotic marine life – some darting around like torpedoes and many others simply meandering in the most pedestrian of fashions, showboating their shimmering scales. The best hospitality and food were also guaranteed, and the luxury water villas will always provide the finest of retreats; although this time it was different.
The pilot of the seaplane expertly choreographed a descent of epic coolness and calm, with his bare feet upon the pedals; the clues were, I guess, all around me.
As the most basic of aeroplanes prepared to touchdown, the view from the exposed cockpit looked daunting. All I could glimpse was the sea accelerating towards me, reminiscent of the war films I’d seen where the stricken plane crashes into the drink, followed by the ensuing chaos. On this occasion, the deft landing barely registered a judder.
Once on land I was keen to explore this pearl-shaped bolthole of beauty. Traversing the entire shoreline took around twenty minutes, and, according to the pedometer on my mobile phone, it was a tad over one mile. This place was tiny.
A few days later – and please pardon the pun ─ I went one step further by spending the most exquisite few hours on an even more remote island a short speedboat ride away, where the crew abandoned their quarry along with an emergency satellite phone and provisions. The circumference of this speck of solitude hardly merited measurement as it took only minutes to join up my footprints and create an almost perfect circle. Embudhoo was positively magical, and I was finally free of the shackles of life that until this moment I’d never really thought about or sought to weigh. I had a sudden realisation that, apart from a handful of human beings on a planet of billions, I was essentially unplugged from the crowded space we call civilisation for the first time in my entire existence. It felt absolutely awesome.
I kept having to remind myself what day it was. My head is normally a reservoir of turbulent thoughts, all fighting for supremacy. For eerie episodes there was nothing going on up top, other than the blissful banishment of the usual bombardment upon my brain. As nighttime descended, I became even more detached as I became lost in the stunning sunsets, hypnotic moonrises, and the swathe of stars above that could be captured in their most stunning celestial beauty with the humble iPhone camera. Orion’s belt was simply mesmerising.
The psychological community broadly defines escapism as a diversion of the mind that allows for an escape from reality or routine. In itself, this type of mental detour has many advantages, including a mindful detox that reduces stress and can create a decluttered space for inspiration to thrive. Alternatively, it can lead to procrastination and denial. Harmful escapism will undoubtedly capture seemingly attractive short-cuts such as drug induced distractions, or habitual and easily accessible diversion that is often a click away on a mobile device. As Dr Ashely Olivine, psychologist and public health professional, candidly puts it, “Anyone who wants to avoid pain or discomfort may seek escapism. This may relate to life’s regular challenges, traumatic events, or situations.” She cites various positive activities, including daydreaming, reading, physical activity, and work. However, the negative counterbalances such as overeating, shopping, alcohol, drugs, pornography, and gambling can promote damaging addictions.
Of all the pithy quotes on the issue of escapism, it is perhaps the late British actor Roger Moore who most captures the dichotomy of the positive and negative characteristics, by reflecting upon his portrayal of Ian Fleming’s famous MI6 agent, code name 007: “Bond was escapism, but not meant to be imitated in real life.” The key is finding the right healthy mechanism for you.
Next time, I’m minded to go the full hog and leave the mobile at home. Let’s see how that fully naked experience pans out!
I appreciate how lucky I am to even contemplate this type of travel, yet I’m guessing that solitude could be closer than I ever thought possible, and my immediate task is to find it once again – this time much closer to home.
© Ian Kirke 2023 and all photographs.
@ianjkirke