Niyama Private Islands Maldives

I'm usually like a wound-up Duracell bunny on vacation, intent on flapping around and seeing and doing absolutely everything on offer, only to return home needing a holiday to recover from my holiday. I’m not sure what’s in the air, water or exquisite cuisine at Niyama Private Islands Maldives, but it achieved a feat my friends and family wouldn’t believe possible: it washed a sense of stillness over me.

For someone who doesn’t walk but sprints, and who turns even meditation into a competition, this is significant. It happens instantaneously and jetlag can’t be blamed – the flight from Dubai is just over four hours with a one-hour time difference. Mr Smith turns to incredulously watch me sauntering through the lush, landscaped jungle as opposed to stomping off miles ahead of him. During our stay, this stroll would descend into a ramble, before becoming a full-blown waddle.

After a dramatic 50-minute seaplane transfer hovering over bird- and reptilian-shaped atolls that appear to belong in an entirely different universe, we’re whizzed away by our thakuru (an indigenous and nicer way of saying ‘butler’) to a magnificent breakfast spread in Niyama’s breezy all-day dining restaurant, Epicure. Mr Smith makes a tacit agreement then and there to embrace the Atkins diet (with a couple of hash browns thrown in for good measure) and tucks into crispy bacon and fluffy scrambled eggs. Taking one look at the freshly baked breads, patisseries and an entire station devoted to the finest charcuterie and cheeses, I dispense of my clean, gluten-free living and tuck into warm pancakes with honey dripping from the comb and spicy salami, aged prosciutto and sharp pecorino. The hotel admirably caters to its upwardly mobile Chinese and Korean clientele and we watch in amazement as couples dressed in perfectly coordinated outfits pile fruit, sushi, dim sum, noodles, stew, croissants, poached eggs and banana bread onto the same plate.

We’ve been upgraded from a Deluxe Water Studio to a Pavilion – score! – but there’s a mix up and a delay as a result. Though there are worse places to be stranded – the restaurant opens onto an infinity pool that in turn stretches out to the cerulean sea – we’re eager to get rid of our eau de airplane odour and hit the beach. It’s worth the wait. Situated on the island’s private crest, our pavilion is jaw-droppingly sensational. It is also so huge that I surreptitiously look behind me to check if anyone else is joining us. Sticking to the resort’s ethos of attracting an in-vogue set – Niyama, does, after all, boast Subsix, the world’s first underwater club – the decor is both soothing and stimulating.

Though the modern design comes straight from the pages of a glossy magazine, it’s far from sterile. The overwater villas have accents of turquoise and ultramarine, with authentic touches including coffee tables fashioned from reclaimed wood, 3D art installations and circular chandeliers in the bathroom that look like huge hunks of coral. Also in the palatial marble bathroom, with its family sized tub and a rain shower that takes you outdoors so you can shower with the fish, are my favourite Ren bath products and a nifty towel rail that looks like a ladder.

The control panel for the curtains and the iPad containing an A–Z directory and hotel news updates are contrived with the PlayStation 4 generation in mind. Surprisingly it’s me – and not the man regularly sucked into a parallel online universe – that manages to decode the curtains.

Our expansive deck with its plunge pool and Jacuzzi perched over the translucent lagoon stretches out invitingly before us. With not a soul about for miles, the ocean is our oyster. We can’t wait to dive in and are instantly greeted by baby blacktip reef sharks, their dorsal fins poking up through the water. We’d be treated to several sightings of these during our stay, along with maize-coloured butterfly fish, stripy angel fish, curvaceous banner fish, spotted clown coris and digital-print Picasso triggerfish.

Post-swim, as we sip Nespressos and snack on free cassava crisps and warm popcorn courtesy of our in-room air popper, our thakura delivers a letter from the general manager inviting us on a sunset cruise as an apology for our room delay. We’re so blissed out we’d already forgotten, but we’re not going to miss out on sailing on a traditional Maldivian dhoni. The bottlenose dolphins are evidently aware we haven’t paid for our seats (a snug oversized beanbag) and don’t play ball, but there are plenty of flying fish, along with chilled bubbly, to keep us content as the apricot sun slips into the sea.

Dinner is a truly local affair with a barbecue and cooking stations set up on the beach dishing up delicate lobster, spicy fish wrapped in banana leaves and creamy Maldivian curries. The following night we opt for a South American and South African feast at Tribal. Tucked away in the jungle with egg-shaped art installation pods in which to sit, it’s a magical setting with brilliantly executed food – the mixed asado and the beef cheek potjie kos are particularly enticing. Earlier we’d squeezed in a visit to the deli – a fabulous concept – where superb sandwiches and smoothies are served.

There’s a gym with a view but my kit remains in my suitcase and I help myself to another on-the-house ice cream instead. We do enjoy some leisurely ping-pong and pool and embarrass ourselves playing simulator games, but mostly we loll about like spoiled teenagers. Still, we know couples that have visited the Maldives and not once left their rooms, so we don’t feel too bad. That said, not even my newfound idleness is going to stop Mr Smith from getting his morning meat fix.