The Logistics of Paradise

During one of the pre-production meetings, the owner of the hotel chain tells us they position themselves above Four Seasons. Mathematically, it’s an interesting concept. Where does one go after the ceiling of luxury has already been reached? But I didn't have the mental bandwidth to solve this equation anyways because my brain was overloaded with other things regarding this shoot.

You land in Malé. You get ushered into a ten-seater seaplane.

We had so much equipment that we essentially colonized the plane. There was another couple on board, headed to a different resort. They were informed that their luggage couldn't fit due to weight restrictions. Our gear had taken up half the aircraft. I felt a vague sense of guilt, but at least they didn't blame it on us.

Technically, this was an extremely demanding project, especially since we needed to pack light (which is funny saying that after the previous paragraph). I needed the camera to glide through architecture. Aesthetic and stylized kitchen and foot shots. Water sports above the surface and below it: Jet skis. Stand-up paddling. Snorkeling with turtles and mantas. Drones. I had to capture the staff—the butlers, the therapists, the barkeepers—in a way that felt invisible. Presence without identity. In short: A total walk in the park.

Then we landed. After approximately sixteen hours of transit, I started counting the bags in my head. And one was missing. We had left a case on the conveyor belt at Malé airport. It was currently sitting alone in lost and found of an international airport. This is usually where the panic sets in. But this is where the "Above Four Seasons" philosophy actually manifests in reality. We told them the detail. They said, "No problem." Two hours later, the case was standing in my water villa. It just appeared.

The weather was the other variable.

Hotels are available during the off-season. The off-season is when the weather is bad. This is a fundamental law of hospitality. Somehow, the weather gods looked at our call sheet and decided to be lenient. We had sunshine. No monsoon.

Except at night.

Everything worked out. It was exhausting. Sebastian, my AC, might still be slightly pissed about the workload. But we had the food, the beach, and a complimentary massage to buffer the trauma. The final cut should provide further compensation.

I came home with a few new practical truths. Dive weights make excellent sandbags. Lube works as camera SFX. And I will forever being spoiled when it comes to accommodations.