Later, in search of a good ‘office-for-the-day’ spot, I notice the interiors of my villa are warm and understated—teakwood finishes, soft sand-toned textiles and clean lines that nod to Maldivian craftsmanship without overpowering the view. But I want to be closer to the sea, so I make my way towards the sun beds just ten steps from the beach.
As I’m responding to emails, my peripheral vision notices something moving in the sand. I’m too busy to pay attention. Funnily enough, every time I look up, the movement stops. It’s all white and grainy at first, so I squint, scanning the shore. I step out, quiet as a cat on a midnight prowl, towards the flicker of movement I think I see. Zooming in with my phone camera, I spot it: a full-blown crab party unfolding in the sand, the crustaceans quickly poking their heads in and out of their tiny shells. Then, the soft patter of feet behind me. I turn to catch a small bird sipping from the pool, then darting across the deck like it’s late for a meeting. If I weren’t a practical person, I would believe I’d somehow fallen down a rabbit hole and landed in a Disney movie. I was starting to see why my Hinge matches were captivated by the ocean.
