Andrei Kolesnikov is amazed: tourists know more about the revolution in the Maldives than locals

This happens: there is a revolution in the country, and tourists know more about it than the residents themselves

Andrey Kolesnikov

No one in the Maldives knows about the spa revolution that took place a month ago, as a result of which there was a military coup in the Republic of Maldives. Moreover, on the island where I lived for two weeks and one day, towards the end, I decided to inquire about security guarantees after the coup, the hotel administrator became very interested in what kind of coup this was.

- You probably heard something? — I clarified incredulously. “They couldn’t help but hear!” They shot!

“You know,” he said, “we work here and don’t know anything, neither good nor bad.” If I were in Male, I would tell you. But you were there a few days ago, and I was there a year. So you better tell me.

“But I’m passing through...” I shrugged.

- And you didn’t notice anything like that?

- Well, how can I tell you...

And yet I told him this.

To get to one of the Maldivian islands where you decide to relax, you need to fly another 45 minutes from the airport in the capital Male by air taxi - a small plane on water skis. It lands anywhere in those parts, because there is water everywhere. In principle, flying in this taxi is already included in the system of local entertainment and certainly attractions, unless what happened to us there happens to you.

Nothing special really. It's just that the plane's departure, we were told, was a little delayed.

- What's happened? - I asked.

“Yes, the captain is very busy right now,” the dispatcher explained to me.

— So much so that we can’t fly out? - I was surprised.

“Unfortunately,” he confirmed sadly.

- And how long should we wait?

“About an hour,” the dispatcher reassured.

Really reassuring. Out of habit, acquired over the years of working in the presidential and prime minister’s pool, I immediately prepared for the worst. That is, by a couple of hours at least.

Every decent hotel in a small airport, where three dozen planes dock at the pier, has a small waiting room, a rest room, mother and child... I don’t know, in general, what it’s called. This room turned out to be ours, and it was already packed.

Here the French, several Germans and one Russian couple were sitting and lying. I even thought at first that we were on the same twelve-seat flight and wouldn’t fly, but then I counted everyone and calmed down.

But in vain. The first to be wary was the German, who took to the islands not only his wife (with lips as scarlet as poppies, from lipstick, which from these two lips would be enough for Maldivian girls behind the bar for three lives), but also her parents, as well as his own and others. a couple of people - in my opinion, in general, everyone who wanted to.

The German talked to the airport dispatcher and found out that our plane was delayed not by an hour, which had just passed, but by two (instinctively planned by me).

- What did he tell you? — the good Russian guy asked the German affably in bad English.

— The captain is very busy and has not yet left.

The Russian went to the pier.

He returned thoughtfully:

“I don’t understand something,” he said. “The board says that our flight is canceled altogether.”

- Why? - they asked him in unison.

“It’s not written,” he said. “But there is one thought...

And he, of course, shared it. According to his information, water aviation of the Maldives was actively involved in the military coup. He didn’t specify which side he was on, but that wasn’t the main thing right now. The main thing is that the spa revolution, which was talked about so much in Moscow, overtook us immediately upon arrival and covered us head-on, like a wave from a taking off air taxi of vacationers splashing in the ocean who were able to get to their island.

It is obvious that our plane also took part in the action (possibly punitive) and, most likely, was damaged, and now its holes are being patched, and we are told that the pilot has urgent matters.

“Well, judge for yourself,” said this guy, “what could be more urgent for them than our flight?” They can’t have anything else to do!

This was the argument. Everyone immediately agreed with him. At the same time, some of the passengers, including me, were already determined to take everyone off the boat. True, it turned out that it would take at least five hours to sail to the island, and there were no free boats.

And some, in my opinion, even went back to Paris and Munich. Moreover, even after two hours we weren’t flying anywhere. And in three. And even after four.

Four and a half later they suddenly announced we were boarding. As we settled on board and prepared to talk to the pilot, he just walked in. I looked at him and realized something.

- What's wrong with you? — I asked. “Why are you so pale?”

The first pilots on these flights are traditionally English, and the pallor showed through even through the tan.

- What, they didn’t tell you? — he smiled exhaustedly. “Severe indigestion.” It just wouldn't make it...

- Is it better now? — the German asked with alarm.

“Of korz,” he sighed uncertainly.

But I think it would be better if we made a couple of emergency landings along the way.

Preoccupied with revolution