Gulhi Island

So what’s it like to visit one of the Maldivian islands that isn’t a resort island?

How would you describe Gulhi?

Gulhi is not very big. In fact it’s about 400 metres long by 220 metres wide. You can pretty much see everything in the space of a five minute walk. I think it might well be the smallest island I’ve ever set foot on. We saw people running around it. It would make for a very frustrating ultramarathon. Wikipedia tells me the population of the island is 970, which, and I quote, “includes foreigners”, whatever that means.

The sign at the quayside welcoming you to Gulhi.

Arriving at it from the speedboat reflected this – we came into a very small harbour area with a jetty and that was about it. North of the jetty is a small industrial-looking port, and the area around the jetty doesn’t feel terribly welcoming. In fact it doesn’t really feel anything at all; it’s open space with sandy soil and not a lot else. There’s a few trees with swing-seats attached, and a ‘Welcome to Gulhi’ sign. It does get better though, honest.

The streets of the island aren’t paved or even really demarcated; they’re just passageways of bare earth covered with a light layer of sand. The buildings are mostly square with fairly beige walls (some might call them ‘sun-bleached’), and open out straight onto the street with no porch or front yard or anything really. The layout is very much a grid pattern – I don’t recall seeing a bend anywhere on the entire island – and while the streets themselves might have names, there’s no indication of what they are.

One of the streets on Gulhi.

One thing that was noticeable however was the streetlighting, which was more powerful and more prevalent than the streets in the village near where I currently live in Yorkshire, which, given the lack of cars, made the island feel fairly safe. The island isn’t really big enough to have or need motorised transport; the few vehicles we saw were modified three-wheelers (tuk-tuk-like) that served like vans, transporting goods and equipment rather than people. That said, we did also see an ambulance, parked outside the magistrates court, presumably to take people, who otherwise couldn’t move, to the harbour to wait for a boat to the hospital on Malé. Given the lack of traffic on the sea, and the fact the hospital is close to one of the ferry ports, this suggests it’s quicker for someone on Gulhi to get hospital treatment than it would be for me.

Towards the south end of the island is a large power station, not really hidden behind some palm trees. It’s not one of those power stations with large chimneys or anything, but it still subtracts from the aesthetic. It’s close to South Beach, which is a small expanse of sand with a handful of palm trees that just feels slightly unloved. There’s an ‘I heart Gulhi’ Instagram spot just off into the sea – a frame which should have a swing but doesn’t – so it’s either broken or still being constructed.

Palm trees at sunset on Gulhi’s south beach, in front of a power station.

In fact there was a bit of construction going on here, especially at the south-east end. You can see buildings being built and some construction vehicles around the ragged edges of the island. It’s certainly not as prevalent as the reviews of Maafushi made it sound there, and it didn’t interfere with our enjoyment of Gulhi, but it’s definitely noticeable. It feels like they’re building more tourist infrastructure, rather than domestic needs, which should make it an even more hip and happening place just in time for it all to get flooded by the effects of climate change.

The south end also has the police station, the school, the football pitch, and the volleyball court. It also has a very small graveyard and, most usefully, an ATM. It’s really useful to have one on such a small island, as it makes things considerably more manageable. You might think there’d be not a lot to buy, but you’d be wrong.

What is there to do on Gulhi?

The main driver behind visiting Maldives in general is the beach, and Gulhi is no exception. Almost everything you see, hear, or read about the country involves white sand, ocean views, and clear turquoise waters. The advantage of going to a resort island is you get it all to yourself. The advantage of going to a more local island is you’re not spending £800/night to do so. While there are a number of beaches on Gulhi, including a couple of small areas where the sand of the roads blends into the sand of the shoreline so it’s hard to tell where the town ends and the beach starts, the part of the island most tourists will head towards is in the north-east and is called ‘Bikini Beach’.

The Bikini Beach sign

Sign warning you not to wear swimwear off the designated beach.

Note that Maldives is over 98% Islamic. There are signs on the walls of several of the streets in the town saying that swimwear should only be worn on the beach and not on the streets. Bikini Beach is, well it’s actually a common thing on the local islands in Maldives, and is a way to create a compromise between local cultural sensibilities and the needs of tourists. It’s a walled-off section of the beach where the normal rules of the island do not apply – essentially creating a Westernised enclave. They’re all called “Bikini Beach” because it’s specifically allowed to wear a bikini on them, as opposed to the other normal beaches where you’re obliged to be a bit more covered up. In addition, several other Islamic rules do not apply – for example we travelled during Ramadan and yet it wasn’t an issue to eat or drink on the beach during daytimes, even on the Friday. It’s quite weird in a way since it very much gives the vibe that there are two completely different islands here, separated by the wall. Let it be said though the wall only encompasses the beach itself; all the restaurants and accommodations are on the main body of the island. This is in opposition to the Resort Islands which are generally entirely self-contained complexes and the normal rules do not apply to their entirety.

Bikini Beach.

Bikini Beach on Gulhi is the largest specific expanse of sand on the island, and it’s a fairly long but narrow strip of land that slopes steeply down to the sea. It’s just about wide enough to fit two rows of sun-loungers with a decent space between the rows, and there’s enough length for it to not ever feel too crowded. The beach is patrolled by a gaggle of young adult men from whom you can rent the sun-loungers, buy coconuts or juice, or hire jet-skis or snorkelling equipment. Cash only, hence the usefulness of the ATM. They also often play beach-vibe dance music on loudspeakers; it’s never overly loud but it is present, so just be aware of that. I think they’re trying to pretend they’re in Thailand or the Caribbean or something – and on that note they do have beach parties, or at least evening beach barbecues and bonfires, at least on the Thursday night we were there. Which we didn’t go to, partly because why would we, and partly because Laura’s not keen on eating fish and most of the food advertised as being on offer was, obviously, sea-based.

The sea is absolutely window-clear. It’s also surprisingly shallow to quite a way from the shore, meaning even I could venture out without getting too out of my depth. And there’s plenty of fish around, even including small eels, a starfish, and a stingray. We were told that stingray’s a regular visitor to the shoreline, to the extent they’ve even given it a name. Lola, for the record, tho I don’t know why.

Stingraaaaaay, Stingray!

It being an island on an atoll, there’s also coral here. It’s not like a huge coral reef or anything, but there’s certainly bits of coral in the ocean floor within walking distance of the shoreline. I mean obviously I didn’t walk on the coral because I was barefoot and it would have hurt, and in any case you’re absolutely not supposed to anyway for environmental reasons, but it was there and I’m incredibly unlikely to be that close to a coral environment very often. This is, however, why you can rent snorkelling equipment. And if you get the jet-skis or jet-boat, you can go way out into the sea and take a better look. I obviously did not do any of that because I don’t swim. As an aside, snorkelling is possibly my one swimming regret – not that you even need to be able to swim to just put on a mask and dip your head under – but it’s all related, and being able to swim helps, and I think of all the water-based activities I can’t do, that’s probably the one I’d enjoy.

Fish in the waters off the coast.

Apart from that, there’s not a lot else to do on the beach other than just lie there and look out to sea. There is one of those swings you see on many an Instagram reel, just in the sea, where you can sit and sway over the sea under an ‘I heart Gulhi’ sign. We did. Because we’re cheesy like that. And because it was kinda fun. Note that this is how you get sunburn, because we’re 4°N and it’s just on the winter side of the equinox so the sun is pretty much exactly directly overhead. And apart from the dodgy parasols and the occasional overhanging tree, there’s no shade anywhere on the beach or the ocean. Wear a hat.

Gulhi beach, with more people on it.

In fact, on that note, on our visit it was it’s in the mid 80s Fahrenheit, possibly touching the very low 90s, so we’re talking what, a couple of degrees either side of 30 Celsius. Which is not a temperature I’m used to experiencing in early March. And, to be honest, it felt hotter than that. There were a few wispy clouds in the sky, but otherwise it was bright and fiery, especially with the sun reflecting off the sand too. I’d prepared for it by basically wearing an outfit that might have been seen as conservative even for the locals’ beaches, at least in length if not in style. Although I did leave my sunglasses in Yorkshire, which was an oversight. Most of the other people on Bikini Beach were wearing the merest whiff of a swimming costume, which is why they all looked like burned ham glistening in the flames.

Another thing you can do though is take tour trips. A couple of these are on or just off Gulhi, including a village tour and a fishing trip. Many though are to other islands. These might include more remote spots for better snorkelling – for example visible in the distance from Bikini Beach is a huge sandbank on which I saw people walking and watching the water. Other trips you can take though are more lively ones, including day-visits to Resort islands where you can laze, eat a wider variety of food, and, importantly for some, drink alcohol – as you might expect, Gulhi is ‘dry’, like most of Maldives.

Me looking as awkward a pose as you’d expect a gen-x enby to look.

Now, obviously, other islands in Maldives will maybe have better coral, more fish, and the like, but again, you get what you pay for and if you’re on a budget, what you get here is probably good *enough*. If you really want to do it properly on a budget though, you’d be better off in Indonesia or somewhere like that. It’s just a compromise, very much a compromise.

Aside from the beach music, the island is really quiet most of the time, and the call-to-prayer is very clearly audible. Otherwise it’s just the wind, the waves, the birds, and not much else. It’s a very peaceful place to just sit and daydream and switch off from the world.

Sunset looking west over the ocean from the South beach.

And sunset at the harbour.

Then, at sunset, you just amble to the west side of the island and stand on the shoreline and watch the sun set. This close to the equator it’s quite a rapid dusk – from the sun disappearing over the horizon to absolute darkness is less than half an hour, and in that time the sky changes colour several times in incredibly vivid hues of orange and lilac and mauve. Add in the silhouettes of the palm trees and it makes for quite a chill and evocative vibe. Remember too you’re looking out over a completely flat horizon with nothing in the way – no lights, no buildings, just sky.

Where did we stay on Gulhi?

Our two nights on Gulhi were spent in a hotel called Sandy Heaven, which, let’s be honest, is quite a pretentious name, but it was a pretty decent hotel. Not terribly large, but given you’re going to be spending most of the time on the beach or on an excursion, and you’re literally only there to sleep and possibly eat, it’s fine.

Inside the bedroom, looking at a kinda cute wall.

The room we were in was comfortable, with both aircon and a ceiling fan, though neither of them made the room truly chill. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, and we slept pretty well I think, just that it could have been colder. The bathroom was decently-sized and functional, with a large open-plan shower area. There wasn’t really a view out the window, but again, you’re not really going to be in the room to take advantage of it so that was fine.

The hotel offered breakfast included in the room price, and evening meals as an optional extra. We only had breakfast there, which was a choice of either a series of pancakes with syrup, [whatever option two was], or a Maldivian dish of tuna and rice on a couple of rotis (south Asian circles of bread), plus a tray of fruit (generally sliced apple and orange), and a selection of teas and juices. Definitely something to set you up for the day.

Inside the Sandy Heaven hotel’s breakfast and reception area.

You could arrange boat trips and excursions through the hotel’s front desk, or they were happy to provide information and guide you to one of the more specialist operators on the island. I generally felt no-one was really in competition with each other for tourist services – they recommended a rival hotel for food, for instance – and that it’s all quite chill even from their side.

I’d say the hotel was in a really convenient location halfway between the jetty and Bikini Beach, but let’s the honest, on an island the size of 7 hectares, it would be hard for something to not be in a convenient place. Check-out was at 12, and they were also perfectly happy for us to store our bags there while we stayed on the beach on our last day as our ferry back to Malé wasn’t until 4pm.

Where did we eat on Gulhi?

Apart from breakfast at the hotel, and a coconut on the beach, and despite the other options on the island, we only ate at one place on Gulhi. This was a backstreet restaurant called ‘Dhilakani Café’. It was no bigger than a café and didn’t really look like much from the outside – it very much felt like the sort of place locals would go rather than tourists, although most of the people in on our visits were clearly foreigners.

The outside of the Dhilakani Cafe; doesn’t seem much, and yet …

It offered both sit-in and takeaway food (and we’d noticed people on Bikini Beach with foil containers that presumably contained the takeaway food from here). It was run by one man, a ball of chaotic energy who pretty much did everything from cook to serve to host. And the portions were epic, much bigger than I expected them to be, and it was darned good food too. I had mixed noodles on the first and a traditional Maldivian fish mix (‘valhoamas’, sun-dried cured tuna laden with spice) with rice on the second.

Plate of noodles in the cafe.

We also had probably the best juices we’d had on the entire two-week South Asian trip. A lot of the fruit juices we’d tried had been either fruit-flavoured watery drinks, or smoothies. These were, it felt like he’d taken pieces of fruit, pulp and all, and simply liquidised them, with a bit of added sugar. They were textural, thick, but not a smoothie consistency. I had the mango and Laura had the watermelon.

Mango and watermelon juices.

Now, I say ‘despite the other options on the island’; in truth there weren’t that many. I assume every hotel and B&B offered an evening food option, and there were a couple of other restaurants around on the island, but the former looked a bit too … one of them offered a buffet meal type setup, but also had a menu of generic South Asian type food that didn’t feel inspiring (and also more expensive), while another one was never open when we walked past it (though we knew it certainly was at some point since the owner was always outside it chilling on a chair when we passed).

Why did we choose to visit Gulhi?

There were a myriad of reasons why we chose Gulhi over other islands. First and foremost, it was close to Malé so even though we didn’t know the actual cost at that stage, we figured it wouldn’t be an expensive or an overly long transfer. We were restricted a bit by time constraints – our flight back home left on the Sunday morning and we couldn’t arrive any earlier than the Wednesday evening – so we didn’t want to venture too far into the atolls. But we still wanted to feel like we’d been somewhere other than Malé – enough time to get a feel for the place but not enough for a truly deep dive. We did note a couple of other islands but we didn’t really pay them much heed because they were just a bit far out.

A resort island near to, and as viewed from, Gulhi

Gulhi is only about four miles north of Maafushi, which if you do any research online or in guidebooks, always comes up as *the* budget island. It has a bit of a reputation of being a backpacker hub, even, insomuch as Maldives *has* backpackers. I guess they’re mostly doing what we did, effectively: using Sri Lanka as a base to tick off a country because it’s just right there. And we were all set to join them, until we did a hotel search on our booking (dot com) site of choice, and we saw a couple of guesthouses on Gulhi that seemed nicer and cheaper than the ones on Maafushi. In addition, recent reviews of Maafushi hotels suggested the island had become a bit of a building site, with construction and noise being strongly noted. In addition, all Laura really wanted was a beach, she didn’t really care about the minutiae, and when she went online the pictures made Gulhi look even nicer than Maafushi was anyway.

The chap who ran the hotel we stayed in in Malé on our last night had a quick thought about the two islands. He said Maafushi is becoming too popular, too crowded, and too full of construction. It’s probably a better place to get excursions from, because more people means more choice and more chance of filling the tours, but if all you want is a beach, the one on Gulhi is more or less the same size and considerably less crowded. So it seems a choice had been retrospectively validated by a local in the industry.

Quiet morning view on Gulhi Bikini Beach. Note the Instagrammable swing in the background.

What is important about both islands, and also islands like Dharavandhoo further out which also often comes up in lists of budget Maldivian islands, is that they’re ones where, while there are provisions for foreigners, they are, first and foremost, islands where the Maldivians live. They’re not islands with dedicated resorts where tourists stay in isolated accommodations and are waited on hand and foot, with fancy rooms and noted chefs; rather, they’re much more ‘real’, much more interactive, and far less luxurious. In almost any other country this would not be notable in the slightest, because almost everywhere you travel, the idea of walking out your hotel, going round the corner, and finding a small local café, would be no less expected than breathing. But I feel it’s notable here because there’s a very strong impression that such provision simply does not exist in Maldives; that almost every island is either a resort island or it’s kinda effectively off-limits and not touristy at all; that every island is either The Ritz or Kirkby-in-Ashfield.

If that’s piqued your interest and you want to know how the trip felt overall, here’s a link to my podcast episode all about it.