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Winter passed. Those who follow me on Instagram definitely noticed that I switched my adventure travel storytelling to a more fast consumption medium. Instagram Stories. Thou it was not because of a lack of will to write proper adventure articles but more on life getting to busy in the real life department. Since my last post, a lot has happened in the world and my world at home changed considerably as my mom got diagnosed with cancer and my dad had a stroke. So winter passed under lockdown. Still a considerable time spend on snow despite all the hardships :. But I was missing something for a while now. It had been two years since I rode a proper wave on a proper lineup. The surfer part of my sole was biting me hard again. I was getting to the point where I dreamed of empty lineups in Indonesia. Time to find a solution for the itch… Thulusdhoo Maldives…. It had been ages since I surfed. After paddling in the local lake with my Sturder Egg during the third of this summers endless heatwaves, I was deep in thought about lives problems. Moms treatment was not going to great. The part of me that had always yearned for the adventures was also getting restless and suffocated in all this realness. The whole series of lockdowns, travel restrictions and general COVID19 wariness had put a dent into my social life so big it was hard to fill. My friends in Austria, Germany, Italy and all over the world were all there on chat but worlds away. Some I had not seen for over a year, some even longer. My small hometown bubble was a little distraction, but the mindset here is generally not mine. It was fun,…. I had spent a considerable amount of holiday time off from chaotic work, screeched thin with to little people and to many tasks, taking care of my parents. In all I had about two weeks left. With inoculations done and access to PCR testing, easing flight restrictions and good deals I was ready to go back to … Indonesia. So I wishfully thought. Just when I wanted to book Indo turned into COVID hell and is as of now still completely closed off, unless u have a few thousand dollars around for a visa and endless remote work options. Then I turned to the Canary Islands. It was the last destination I had surfed.. It was in April when swell was good there. Now at a low point it seemed like a compromise I had not much choice but to make. As life would have it then, on an evening while browsing Instagram my buddy Boris posed a GoPro shot of a good wave. Just for fun I asked where he was at. The answer was prompt. The Maldives. Sure I had seen crushing waves form clips of Sultans and Cokes, world renowned barrels of endless joy. But I never actually checked where they were or imagined myself going there. The Maldives, a fancy Barbados like destinations for rich people who love private resort islands, spending thousands getting drunk on endless buffet and booze, honestly were not on my radar. I had seen documentaries about housing problems, trash and the impending doom of rising sea levels for this archipelago paradises, but never considered surfing there. After quizzing Boris about cost and conditions my mind was already set. Emirates offered a nice and affordable flight with surfboard included directly from Vienna to Male over Dubai for EUR. So I would fly to the Maldives, take a speedboat to the little north Athol Capital of Thulusdhoo, park my ass at Batuta Surfview for two weeks and just surf whatever I could. I did not care about the swell, wet season etc.. I did thou know that wet season is the time to be there. This time I would hit the swell window at the peak, but would my rusty surf skills hold up? Everyone who is somewhat serious about wave surfing knows. Not having proper waves close by, one can prepare only so much. Sure I had a pretty productive winter season. In fact I had not made so many Hight meters skinning or climbing up mountains on foot ever, period. After my weird vertigo incident in and the shit at home my training routine had been reduced to basically Enduro bike laps on my home hill or fast hikes up some mountain, sweating and puffing like a dragon. Lots of headaches, migraines and all the aches of getting older did not help here at all. But I was determined to at least do something as to not drop into a lineup like a complete noob. That I thought, I could partly managed, even if I had not been in the water for a while. So I started training. Climate change has had a good effect on windsurfing here close to home. On a manmade lake close to my home wind was blowing adamantly and more often then ever before. So I started with a lot of windsurfing sessions, mixed with just swimming or paddle training on my shorty on the lake for an hour. Sure saltwater is less buoyant then seawater but that would make for more of an advantage in training. But that would not do alone. After all, the position of weight is completely reversed when surfing a wave. I had seen adds for the recently newly opened real fake Kelly Slater technology wave park in Sion. But with prices at EUR an hour for a few sets of waves and the distance to drive, that was not an option. After that day I was exhausted for a whole weekend. But there was no more time for another session. Thanks to Taja for the help here :. But with the pandemic still raging travel these days needs a lot of testing, paralegal level of tracing regulations and time. I was lucky that I had been inoculated with two doses of vaccine a month prior, eliminating a headache of additional papers. To get to the Maldives, I would need a PCR test no older then 72 hours, my Vaccination passport, and a filled out digital arrivals form for the Maldives. That one has you fill in everything except for who your grandmother is and when the last time was you had been to the bathroom. On a sunny Saturday in August I set off to Vienna by car to start my solo adventure into the unknown. In Europe we all take our papers very seriously. In fact, we take them so seriously that we never check any of them. To my surprise the first check was at the Emirates desk on the validity of all my paperwork. It was more throughout then the Austrian border crossing, or the Vienna airport passport control. I must say that the other bodies of control I went trough on my 14 hour transit were as they should be. Checks in Dubai, and upon arrival in Male were all on point. No complications all checked properly. It made me feel a bit more secure, thinking that at least here, people seem to take this thing seriously. As a side note, my return was completely check free. Only the Maldives had a specific rule that while you were in a guesthouse one had to get tested PCR to be allowed to leave the country. In Austria and Slovenia on the way back I just walked trough customs and passport control as if there never was a pandemic. A pandemic that is again spiraling out of control with us pretending to be back in the lost old world. If you managed to bear with me up till now here is where it really gets interesting. I had landed and made it out of the airport. I was a bit late and was worried that I would miss the only speedboat left to take me to my island on that day. Welcome to the Indopacific I thought :. Here I had to employ a specific skill I thought I had lost a long time ago. Ask someone I did not know where something is… It felt weird. In the days of google maps and omnipotent reliance on outside real time data sets… I quickly got an answer. Time of arrival was also sometime after Then a surfer dude, approached me. A nicely browned young Italian whos name I forgot saw me with my Ferrino outfit and backpack and asked if I was also going to Thulusdu? I replied Thulsdoo? As it figures we quickly realized that it was the same island and started talking. It felt weird. Talking to strangers with the same goals. Then another dude with a bigger surf bag approached us. It was a Brazilian guy… the best surfer of us three, me defiantly trailing last. His name was Rodrigo and we would become good friends over the coming weeks. Finally the speedboat arrived. Crewed by local cool dudes with black sunglasses and a distinct Rasta vibe. We knew now that this was the right boat. As for the name I thought. River… funny in the middle of the ocean one names his business river boat. As the boat speeded in messy swell I was taking it all in. It felt as if a part of me I thought lost had been reawakened. We arrived at the dock of Thulusdhoo where the guys from our accommodations were already waiting to pick us up. We all stayed at different places but, since the island is like like a kilometer long and half wide it was all only a few minutes walk from one place to the other. I was greeted by my friendly landlord and shown to my room. It was awesome. The roof of the little guest house was a giant open space where you could do yoga in the sunrise and sunset. From my breakfast table I would be looking out at my two home surf spots Cokes, named after the Coca cola bottling plant of Thulusdhoo and Chickens, on the next island, where a chicken farm used to be. The chickens thou left and a fancy resort sprung up. More on the spots in the next post. I took a stroll around my new home. The Maldives are a Muslim country. This being a local island and me being respectful I made sure not to ware boardshorts that expose the knees. The women of the island were wearing traditional burkas or a bit more colorful progressive once. It was kind of in line with semi conservative Indo. The dudes were pretty regular islanders of the east sea. I soon saw that any type of boardshort would be ok. Most of the locals speak a good English and there were more shops on the island then I expected. I ran over a ton of little eateries that I would try on fun outings over the two weeks. At the south side of the island. Some kind of expansion project had extended its side. Its artificial barren origins were blatantly obvious, with a few nice white beaches nested in between. They were completely empty. I took a long chill bath to clear my soul of all the stress from the last months. It felt as if it was just flowing away from me. The sun was very strong and I had to be careful not to get too much of a sunburn. Being close to the equator getting a golden tan is almost guaranteed. If you dose it correctly you can avoid looking like a lobster. At the north west point of the island close to the fish market a long pier was build. This was the place where the locals fished when on shore. It was time for sunset and I sat down and watched the stingrays play with a ton of colorful fish lining up to eat a bit of lure that was being thrown into the water. There must have been about 20 stingrays there at once. A beautiful spectacle for sunset I had also never seen before. It was time to go to bed. The next day would bring the surf. I was eager. After the long flight and the travel half way across the world my mind felt oddly at ease. I was away from all the trouble and hustle. It was time to live a little again. And the waves were calling out. Your email address will not be published. Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. Vienna Airport needs masks and PCR to enter. Masks are mandatory unless when you eat meals. Gotta love Emirates legroom. I could eat soace food all the time. And my whisky above the clouds.. More whiskey…. Even more whiskey?? Is this happy hour or what! I love As smoothest flights ever…. Flight two.. The place wher the boats dock and the smokers are. Welcome to flatland…. Thulusdhoo is a place you will love. You can zen under water after surf. Get your surf dings fixed. Chill in a matt. Watch the yachts. Waclk around the island. Leave your board safely under the palm trees. Go party with the brasilians of MaldivesSurfTrip. Walk bikini beack. Borrow water stuff. Go on a sandbanks or surf trip. Enjoy katameran or surf. Explore how the people live. Main blvd. Go fishing. See political statements. Local festival area. The coca cola factory. The extended and empty part of the island. Paln trees. Shop at night. Or do Yoga on the roof with palms galore. Read Story. Pingback: The good life Breaking boards! 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Thulusdhoo Island, Maldives: 2024 Travel Guide

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As we flew through the clouds, snippets of the turquoise water and sandy island atolls confirmed we had made the right decision. After the stress of the previous week, I could not wait to lay on the beach in my bikini, soak up the sunshine and sip on a cocktail until I remembered that the island Rhys and I had chosen was a surf camp on an inhabited island. This meant no bikinis and definitely no alcohol due to the strict Muslim culture. My visions of decadent resort living with manta rays swimming under the glass floor of my private bungalow began to quickly disintegrate. No decadent beach bungalows and swimming pools but this did happen, so close enough for me. As we walked out of airport, we noticed a distinct divide between the type of travellers arriving. There are those that arrive in large groups trailing designer luggage who have booked lavish packages through Maldivian resort companies. And then there are people like us. We look for directions to the local ferries, then stand in line in the humidity holding our backpacks and boards just hoping to catch the right one for a budget price. We are travellers on the hunt for surf, sea life and adventure trying to get wherever we can for as cheap as we can and that is just the way I like it. We paid for the ferry and settled in for the short ride to Male from Hulhule in order to catch a connecting ferry to our island of choice Thulusdhoo. All up our trip would take around 2 hours but only cost a couple of dollars. We tried to wait out Mother Nature in the hope that the last ferry of the day would run if the weather calmed. Meanwhile, we walked around town, purchased some very cheap thongs to replace a plugger blow out, surfed in rough, sloppy waves while watching planes land on the runway as our backdrop and then waited some more until it was confirmed: no ferries would run until tomorrow. Mother Nature had won yet again. Our choices were: stay on Male and catch the ferry the next day which meant we would be forfeiting our accommodation or, split the cost of the speedboat between the four of us. I tried to console myself with the image of the four of us, bikini and board short clad standing on our sleek, black and white luxury speedboat as the wind swept my hair and we raced across the waves to our destination and the shirtless, handsome captain waved at me. Thirty minutes later we were indeed making our way across the waves but at more of a mild speed in our fairly average fishing boat with two scrawny but smiling locals at the helm as we sat in the back getting splashed in the face with sea water. Finally, we arrived at Thulusdhoo and departed the boat with our luggage ready to try and find the guesthouse we had booked just the night before. Unfortuantely for us, the clouds began to roll in and looked a little angry. Search for:. Like Loading Leave a comment Cancel reply. Comment Reblog Subscribe Subscribed. Sign me up. Already have a WordPress. Log in now. Loading Comments Email Required Name Required Website. Design a site like this with WordPress.

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