Le Méridien Maldives Resort & Spa Review: Overwater Villas, Seaplanes and Castaway Luxury in the Lhaviyani Atoll

There is a precise moment, mid-manoeuvre in a strong crosswind on the surface of the Indian Ocean, when you understand exactly how a seaplane docks. It does not glide in serenely like a swan. It fights. Our pilot had the throttles open, one engine forward, the other thrown into reverse, the whole aircraft pivoting against the wind while we ran the length of a neighbouring island that was not even our destination. Seaplanes, it turns out, manoeuvre on water about as gracefully as a Labrador on a marble floor, and in a stiff breeze the only thing that saves you is a pilot with the hands of a surgeon and the nerve of a stuntman. It took a while. It took, frankly, a great deal of skill. And it was the most thrilling thing I had done all year, which was inconvenient, because we had not yet arrived anywhere.

This was the opening act of a seaplane safari through the Maldives, and the curtain rose on the Le Méridien Maldives Resort & Spa by Marriott, thirty minutes north of Malé, soaking up the sun on the island of Thilamaafushi in the Lhaviyani Atoll. I had been to this atoll before. I liked it a lot. Returning to a place you already adore is a small gamble — memory has a way of gilding things — but I am pleased to report that the gild was, if anything, conservative.

Starting As One Means To Go On

The thing about a long journey east is that it begins badly more often than not, in the fluorescent purgatory of an airport terminal, queueing behind a man who has put a full bottle of olive oil in his hand luggage. We avoided all of that. Holiday Extras had arranged the lounge and the airport meet-and-greet parking, which meant our morning began at the Heathrow Clubrooms rather than in Terminal 3, and the difference is roughly that between a Bach prelude and a car alarm.

The Clubrooms is a gentle place. Soft jazz, soft sofas, soft armchairs, a marble fireplace, chandeliers and lighting set to the flattering end of the dimmer. It is not, strictly speaking, a refuge from Heathrow, because it sits within Heathrow, but it does a remarkable impression of one. We sank into the upholstery, raised a glass to the eleven hours ahead, and felt the holiday begin a clean day early.

SriLankan Airlines carried us to Colombo — eleven hours, films I cannot remember, a meal I can — and then onward an hour and a half to Malé. From there came my favourite part, and I say this without embarrassment: the seaplane is my favourite mode of transport on earth, and I will not be taking questions. Trans Maldivian Airlines does the honours with admirable theatre. You are escorted in a van fitted with leather lounge seats — a van that has clearly been told it is a limousine and believes it — to the Le Méridien seaplane departure lounge, where snacks and drinks soften the wait. Forty-five minutes after that we were bouncing across genuinely rough water, the floats slapping each crest, heading for our first island.

Which, as established, was not our island. We dropped some fellow travellers at a neighbouring resort, performed the Indiana Jones docking described above, then lifted off again, flew for what felt like a few hundred metres, and set down once more at Le Méridien. If you have never travelled between two destinations by aircraft in less time than it takes to butter toast, I can only recommend it.

A small reassurance, since I have just described a great deal of bouncing and reversing. Seaplanes are flown entirely by hand. The pilot works a dual throttle, governing both engines forward and reverse, and while there are electronic instruments in the cockpit, the actual flying is done by eye, by feel, by experience. It is, counter-intuitively, among the safest ways to travel — no fatal accident in over three decades of Maldivian operation. I mention this not to deflate the romance but to give you permission to enjoy it. The adventure is real. The risk, happily, is not.

A Reverse Jewel in a Crystal Sea

Le Méridien occupies a one-kilometre strip of pristine white sand set, as I scribbled in my notebook somewhere over the lagoon, like a reverse jewel in a crystal blue gem of an ocean. Beach villas line the left, a strand of overwater villas the right, and the whole nine hectares is wrapped in indigenous flora and fauna, a shimmering lagoon and coral reefs busy with rays and turtles. The design takes its cues from a mid-century aesthetic and the brand's European heritage, which in practice means clean lines, warm woods and the kind of restraint that lets the island do the showing off.

The greeting at the dock told me everything I needed to know. The entire staff seemed to turn out, dogs' whiskers away, all smiles and genuine warmth — and across a stay where I met what felt like most of the three hundred of them, the warmth never once slipped into the rehearsed. There were ninety guests during our visit against a capacity nearer three to four hundred, which gave the island the rare and luxurious feeling of being almost ours. And since remarkably few of your fellow guests ever venture past their sunloungers, you get the whole sea almost entirely to yourself.

A short tour, then to our villa, and here I must pause and gush. We had the Sunset Overwater Villa with pool, and it was, in the most literal sense, beyond the pale of ordinary luxury. A great bath sat adjacent to a terrace that looked out to sea with absolutely nothing on the horizon to spoil the view — no island, no boat, no smudge of anywhere else, just an infinite ocean into which one could comfortably lose an afternoon and most of one's worries. The minibar was all-inclusive, which is dangerous. Best of all, the dressing area was reached through a pair of swinging cowboy saloon doors, a detail so delightfully silly that I pushed through them far more often than my wardrobe required. An overwater villa's true genius, of course, is the water ladder: you descend straight into a shallow lagoon, wade out for an age, then cross the reef into proper snorkelling territory, all of it on your doorstep, or rather, just below it.

For those who prefer toes in sand, the one- and two-bedroom beach villas wear playful muted tones and custom feature walls, with both indoor and outdoor bathrooms and a screen of verdant greenery between you and the world, the Maldivian blues never more than a few barefoot steps from the terrace. Between the two camps sit the Lagoon Villas, part beach and part overwater depending on the whim of the tide — for the guest who genuinely cannot decide. And believe me, deciding is impossible. L'embarras du choix is the polite French phrase; the honest answer is that in the end you simply have to do all of them. Eleven room categories in total, so there is plenty to be indecisive about.

Families and groups should set their hearts on the three-bedroom Thilamaafushi Villa, cocooned in its own little alcove of the island — a private hideaway named, with pleasing circularity, after the island itself.

Bicycles, Stars and a Lit-Up Ladder

Our first evening dinner was with the lovely Anna at Tabemasu, the Japanese restaurant, and I nearly did not leave it. The sushi and sashimi were impeccably fresh, the tuna-son and the Unagi-Don both tender and perfectly cooked, the mocktails inventive, the champagne cold, the Italian red excellent. This was Michelin-starred Japanese cooking with a discreet whisper of French haute cuisine, and they had to physically prise me from the sushi plates before I did myself a mischief. So much to choose from, so little stomach.

Then we did something I will remember when I have forgotten my own name. We grabbed two bicycles and rode through the jungle, at night, along a desert sandy island in the middle of the Indian Ocean, the stars glimmering overhead. There is no luxury amenity, no thread count, no signature cocktail that competes with this. It costs nothing and it is the best thing on the island. We finished the night on the balcony over the water, chatting and watching the fish glide in lazy circles around our illuminated ladder, which is the kind of sentence one writes and then has to read back twice to believe.

The Jet-Ski Safari, or How I Nearly Broke a Yamaha

Morning brought the jet-ski safari, and I should be honest about what this was, because the brochure word "safari" undersells it considerably. We went out to find dolphins, but the headline act was the sea itself. The swell was up, and our sports master had precisely one speed — full — which meant that cresting each wave produced a one-to-two-metre drop at sixty miles per hour, the spray blinding you on landing, the machine slamming down hard enough that I genuinely expected the Yamaha FX 2025 to come apart beneath me. The crack each time it landed certainly suggested it might.

I hold my own watercraft licence, so I was in my element, though I will note for the more sensible reader that you can simply ask your guide to take it Bentley — smooth, dignified, gliding — rather than full-throttle. We sped right out to open sea, around the local island where our guide grew up, past the next resort over, getting almost a full second of air on the bigger waves. A full second airborne on a jet ski is, I assure you, a great deal of second. Wild, raging, explosive fun, an hour and a half of it, and I loved every salt-stung moment. Emily, who had wisely elected to stay lounging on the beach, watched the spray on the horizon and felt entirely vindicated in her choice. Marriages are built on such sensible divisions of labour.

I came back with a few knots in my shoulders and bruises on my legs, which is the sort of injury one does not mind, because it gives one an excuse for a massage. But first, the small matter of ice cream. The Guava and Maldivian chilli is best chased immediately by the mango and mint — your mouth set alight, then instantly cooled, a homemade cultural gem and a small act of delicious violence I performed on myself repeatedly.

Lunch was at The Riviera, the Spanish restaurant, Catalonian cooking served right on the beach with nothing but the lap of the waves and, by evening, the twinkle of stars reflected in the shimmering sea. Le Méridien, you will gather, has my two favourite culinary cultures — Japanese and Spanish — and I took shameless advantage.

Then padel with Rupesh, who deserves his own paragraph. He is a lovely chap and an excellent teacher, but his real gift is rarer than technique: a genuine, undimmable desire to share the joy of whatever he is doing. He runs dancing and a dozen other activities besides, and he makes every one of them so much fun that I, a man whose natural habitat is the warm sea, willingly came out of the water to join him. Charmant does not quite cover it.

Six Restaurants and the Greatest Lettuce I Have Ever Eaten

I need to talk about the lettuce. I am aware of how this sounds. I have written about Maserati GranCabrios and electric DS saloons and charity galas, and here I am preparing to lavish praise on a leaf. But it must be done, because the greenhouse lettuce at Le Méridien is, without qualification, the finest lettuce my wife and I have ever tasted — perfect crunch, perfect texture, and an improbable range of flavours from something I have spent a lifetime ignoring on the side of a plate.

The reason sits, cleverly hidden behind bushes and trees in the middle of the island, in the form of the largest hydroponic greenhouse in the Maldives, laid out by a chap called Fabio. It grows everything the restaurant kitchens need and the herbs for the spa besides, and a visit to it turned out to be one of the unexpected highlights of the trip. There is something quietly thrilling about eating a salad that was alive and rooted forty metres from your table an hour earlier. Chef Pradeep, who presides over much of the cooking, is a genuine star; the food across the island is exquisite without exception, light, local, fresh and full of flavour. Wellness and health are taken seriously here, but never joylessly.

The dining roster rewards the indecisive and punishes the dieter. Breakfast at the Turquoise Restaurant comes with tables dotted among pillars over the sea, a balanced marriage of Asian and European cooking. The Velaa Bar + Grill overlooks the pool and the beach beyond, serving superb grilled fresh fish, wood-fired meats and a whisky selection leaning, very correctly, towards Islay and Japanese — perfect for those who love fresh food and fine drinking in roughly equal measure. The Waves café handles the early-morning energy boosters, which actually work, and the mid-afternoon emergency ice cream, of which there was a great deal, because we did not stop moving for a single second.

And then, the pièce de résistance of the bar list: the adults-only La Vie, with its private pool and sunset view, named for the maxim la vie est trop courte pour boire du mauvais — life is too short to drink bad wine. A philosophy I have done my level best to live by, and an ideal place to finish an evening in considerable style.

Diving the House Reef With Judit and Floren

My scuba dive was with Judit and Floren at Sub Oceanic Le Méridien, and it confirmed something I have long suspected: the quality of a dive operation reveals itself in the first five minutes. The moment they clocked that I was Nitrox certified, they swapped my bottle without fuss and we were away in a small speedboat. They keep a large dive boat too, but the little one was far the nicer way to do it, and the sea was flat and calm, the visibility excellent.

We rolled off backwards into the blue and floated gently down to drift along the house reef, barely a hundred metres from the resort. What followed was a parade. A black-tip reef shark. The largest moray eel I have ever seen, flowing sinuously around us like a length of living silk. Two giant green turtles, magnificent, quietly munching the sea grass; approach one gently and you can settle beside it, which I did, in a state of near-religious calm. One shark towed three remora, another two — those little hangers-on getting both a free ride and a free lunch, looking for all the world like miniature sharks themselves. Lionfish, mini jellyfish, triggerfish, a manta, and a vast stingray half-buried in the sand. After forty-five minutes, with a third of a tank still in hand, we surfaced. Always too soon. Maximum depth was twelve metres, and on a reef this alive you do not need a metre more.

Judit is a serious dive master, and both she and Floren were a pure joy to dive with. I have some forty-five dives logged, which is enough to feel competent and nowhere near enough to be casual, and she still mothered me like a hen with one chick — and let me tell you, however many dives you have done, you want someone better than you keeping an eye out. She picked out every best sight with her torch and made the whole dive feel personal, which is the difference between a tour and an experience.

The Spa, the Greenhouse, and Dinner Under Orange Lights

The knots earned on the jet ski were duly dispatched at The Explore Spa by Le Méridien, an hour of couple’s Balinese massage at the hands of Lxamo and Sokxan, who found exactly the right pressure to soothe and to evict every last bit of tension the swell had installed in my shoulders. All of it administered while I gazed down through a glass panel set into the floor, watching the fish and the occasional baby shark cruise past beneath me. I am aware this is an absurd sentence. It was an absurd and wonderful hour.

Dinner that evening was The Harvest Table on the beach, beside the greenhouse, our own private chef and waiter, the sand washed in warm orange light and the waves lapping near our feet. Across the island, a handsome young man was on bended knee asking his wife-to-be to marry him, ringed by pyramid lanterns, beginning a whole new life on a sandbank in the Indian Ocean. One does not script these things; one simply has the good fortune to be eating nearby when they happen.

On the way back to the villa came a short, sharp tropical shower, and I want to correct a European misconception here. We are conditioned to flee rain, because our rain chills you to the bone with grim, downpouring efficiency. Maldivian rain is warm — so warm it feels less like weather and more like an attentive staff member offering you a fine mist of Evian to take the edge off the heat. I walked through it slowly, on purpose.

A Few Honest Words on the Rough Edges

I would be doing you a disservice if I pretended Le Méridien were flawless, and in any case its gentle imperfections are part of why I love it. The spa and the yoga deck are pleasingly understated rather than palatial. The polish is warm rather than mirror-bright; the island wears its character lightly, a little wild around the edges. If you arrive expecting the lacquered, hermetically perfect five-star elsewhere, you will simply find something more relaxed and more human.

And that, for me, is the whole charm — it reminded me powerfully of the early Maldives: fun, easy, good value, unpretentious, and far more interesting for not being buffed into anonymity. The buffet is excellent, the fairy lights threaded through the central vegetation are pure romance after dark, and the food, as I have laboured to convey, is surprisingly and consistently superb. There is character here that the glossier islands have quietly sanded away. I will take an understated yoga deck and that lettuce over a flawless spa and a wilted leaf every single time.

I should note, for the record, the two grown-up boys at the next table over by the main pool one evening, each glued to an iPad, scrolling on a phone with their spare hand, in one of the most beautiful dining rooms in the Indian Ocean. I mention them not to scold but as a public service. Wherever you are reading this, when you go — and you should go — leave the screens in the villa. The island is the entertainment.

Even In Paradise, It Is The People

Le Méridien is a genuinely natural island, lush with trees and vegetation and quietly populated by lizards, fruit bats and the comical little long-legged chickens that strut about like small dinosaurs who have somewhere important to be. You feel, properly, like a castaway on a tropical desert island, which is the whole point and the rarest thing money can buy.

And here is the lovely contradiction at the heart of the place: step off the barefoot sand and through your own front door, and the villa interiors are plush, hushed, extreme luxury — deep, beautifully dressed beds, marble and warm wood, finishes that would not look out of place in a grand European hôtel particulier. Castaway on the outside, sybarite on the inside; you get both at once. The food is subtle and various, the restaurants numerous enough that you are forever trying something new, the diving excellent over a living reef, the water sports everything you would expect. You can walk the entire island on soft sand, and crucially the entry to the sea is soft sand too — no shingle, no coral underfoot, no water shoes required, which the parents among you will recognise as a small miracle.

The last word, though, belongs to a child I have never met. Standing on a sandbank thirty metres out to sea with his family, the water no higher than their knees, a small boy looked around at the whole shimmering improbability of it and announced, to his family standing around him, "This is the best day of my life."

He was right, and he had identified the secret without knowing it. The villas are gorgeous and the sushi is sublime and the jet skis fly, but the staff at Le Méridien — Anna and Rupesh and Judit and Floren and Pradeep and Lxamo and Sokxan and the three hundred others who say hello and mean it — are the reason a beautiful island becomes an unforgettable one. Même au paradis, ce sont les gens qui font tout. Even in paradise, it is the people that make it.

I will be going back. I have a saloon door to push through and a lettuce to revisit.

To book Le Méridien Maldives Resort & Spa:

https://www.marriott.com/en-us/hotels/mlemd-le-meridien-maldives-resort-and-spa/overview/
 

Frequently Asked Questions: Le Méridien Maldives Resort & Spa

Where is Le Méridien Maldives Resort & Spa located?

Le Méridien Maldives Resort & Spa by Marriott sits on the island of Thilamaafushi in the Lhaviyani Atoll, roughly thirty minutes by seaplane north of Malé. It is a natural island resort covering nine hectares, with a one-kilometre strip of white-sand beach, a shimmering lagoon and a house reef teeming with rays, turtles and reef sharks.

How do you get to Le Méridien Maldives?

You fly into Velana International Airport at Malé and transfer by seaplane with Trans Maldivian Airways, a journey of around thirty to forty-five minutes. Guests are escorted to the dedicated seaplane departure lounge, where snacks and drinks are provided before the flight. The seaplane experience is a highlight in itself — flown entirely by hand, with no fatal accidents recorded in over three decades of Maldivian operation.

Does Le Méridien Maldives have overwater villas?

Yes. The resort offers eleven room categories, including Sunset Overwater Villas with private pools and direct water-ladder access to the lagoon for swimming and snorkelling. There are also one- and two-bedroom beach villas with indoor and outdoor bathrooms, and Lagoon Villas that are part beach and part overwater depending on the tide. For families and groups, the three-bedroom Thilamaafushi Villa offers a private hideaway in its own alcove of the island.

Is Le Méridien Maldives good for families?

Very much so. The resort runs a Le Méridien Family Kids Hub, the entry to the sea is soft sand with no coral or shingle underfoot (so no water shoes are needed), and children under twelve eat free throughout the stay. The shallow lagoon stretches well out from the shore, making it ideal and safe for younger children to paddle and explore.

How many restaurants does Le Méridien Maldives have?

The resort has six restaurants and bars. Highlights include Tabemasu for Japanese sushi and sashimi, The Riviera for Catalonian and Spanish cuisine on the beach, the Velaa Bar + Grill for grilled fresh fish and wood-fired meats with an Islay and Japanese whisky selection, the Turquoise Restaurant for Asian and European breakfasts over the sea, the Waves café for energy boosters and ice cream, and the adults-only La Vie bar with a private pool and sunset views. Much of the produce, including herbs and salad, is grown on-site in the largest hydroponic greenhouse in the Maldives.

What water sports and activities are available at Le Méridien Maldives?

Complimentary water sports are offered daily, including kayaking, paddleboarding and snorkelling. Paid activities include jet-ski safaris to spot dolphins, scuba diving on the house reef, padel and a wide programme of guided activities and dance classes. There is also access to the Waves Fitness Centre and a Marine Conservation Hub with a resident marine biologist.

Is the scuba diving good at Le Méridien Maldives?

Excellent. The dive centre, Sub Oceanic Le Méridien, is well equipped and Nitrox-friendly, with both small speedboats and a larger dive boat. The house reef lies just a hundred metres from the resort and is alive with black-tip reef sharks, green turtles, moray eels, lionfish, triggerfish, manta and stingray, typically at a comfortable maximum depth of around twelve metres. Dive masters tailor each dive personally, making it suitable for both experienced and less experienced divers.

Does Le Méridien Maldives have a spa?

Yes. The Explore Spa by Le Méridien offers a full menu of treatments, including Balinese massage, with some treatment rooms featuring glass floor panels overlooking the marine life below. Many of the herbs used in spa treatments are grown in the resort's on-site greenhouse.

Is there Wi-Fi at Le Méridien Maldives?

Yes, high-speed Wi-Fi is available throughout the resort, though the island is best enjoyed with the screens switched off.

When is the best time to visit Le Méridien Maldives?

The Maldives is a year-round destination, but the dry season from roughly November to April offers the calmest seas and clearest visibility for diving and snorkelling. Sea conditions can be livelier outside these months, which is glorious for jet-skiing and rather more dramatic for seaplane landings.

To book Le Méridien Maldives Resort & Spa:

https://www.marriott.com/en-us/hotels/mlemd-le-meridien-maldives-resort-and-spa/overview/

Our Lounge and Meet and Greet parking was provided by Holiday Extras: HolidayExtras.com