Amazing!! We stayed 2 weeks in july 2017 at W retreat & Spa. Truly a great experience, 1 week in the Beach oasis, 1 week in the Ocean Oasis. We preferred the Beach Oasis - Service at the hotel is more than perfect! 


Buttered up by Cocoa Island, the Maldives retreat where every day is a honeymoon

There are scary moments on Cocoa Island in the Maldives. One of them happens within minutes of arriving, when the ebullient Chinese member of staff who had checked us in asks if we want a 'room orientation'.

No thanks  -  but do tell us where to turn off the air conditioning and how to open the doors and windows.

You are already hermetically sealed when staying in a resort such as this on a small atoll in the Indian ocean, so why intensify the sensation by hiding behind thick glass  -  especially when the mosquitoes have been zapped in a process known as fogging?

A further terror presents itself when we wander over to the restaurant and see the cheapest bottle of wine costs £30 - and it's not as if you can go down the road to find something cheaper.

They've got you where they want you in the Maldives. You either spend £45 on a main course at dinner - or you do without food altogether.
Cocoa Island is a luxury Christina Ong production. Her other hotels include The Metropolitan and The Halkin, both in London, and Parrot Cay in the Turks and Caicos islands.
The loved-up resort about 45 minutes by speedboat from Male Airport comprises 33 tasteful suites, lofts and villas, all attached to various walkways built over the sea.
There's an amazing Como Shambhala spa, a shop (where men's bathing trunks come in at £130), a swimming pool, gym, yoga platform and plenty of glorious white sand that stretches into the turquoise distance just as it does in the brochures.
You don't have to be on honeymoon here - but it will help enormously if you are.
After 24 hours, we give up asking 'Are you on honeymoon?' when bumping into yet another

smiling couple at the breakfast buffet and say instead: 'Where was the wedding?'

All over the world is the answer. We meet a chatty American banker living in London who celebrated his nuptials in New York; a couple from Australia (from where, incidentally, most of the food is flown in once a week); some blissed-out Japanese with a whole arsenal of cameras; several Germans, Dutch and French - and, of course, a sizeable British contingent, but without a replica football shirt to be seen.
Unfortunately, we don't get to meet the two men who are billeted in the two-bedroom villa at the southern tip of the resort.
A waiter whispers that they are staying three weeks. A quick look at the rates and some nifty multiplication tells me they are spending about £38,000 on this outing - and that's before they've even opened a bag of crisps.

At first, we think there is something disconcerting about Cocoa Island. In fact, when my wife sees the rows of suites sitting on the water - each lit up in identical fashion - she says it reminds her of a caravan park, albeit one that is dangerously soft under foot.

She thinks uniformity and paradise are a contradiction in terms and she has a point. I'm just pleased it's not raining.
We stay four nights. It's a process. For the first 48 hours, we're a little jumpy because the imperative to be utterly relaxed is stressful.
But by day three we have been comprehensively seduced by the clean, lapping water; the broiling sun; the charming and wonderfully efficient staff (many of whom come from nearby Sri Lanka); the hushed atmosphere; the coral and the way everyone-is tucked up in their beds by 10pm, although, presumably, not necessarily asleep.

And it is romantic. You end up hoping everyone will cling to what they have found here when things get a little rough.

This is marriage before the storm of squabbling children, before crippling debt and faulty boilers. Indeed, before renewing your vows on a similar faraway island where the sun always shines.

Every suite has its own steps leading into the tepid ocean. The water comes up to your knees at low tide, your thighs at high tide  -  although we find some deep water just off the beach near the spa, where I bob up and down like a hippo.

Along the way, we come across several young blacktip reef sharks, which feel safe from predators in the shallow water, and some triggerfishes, which look gorgeous but are regarded as the most dangerous fish in the Maldives. 'If one comes toward you, we suggest you turn away,' says a helpful note left in our room.You can walk round and round Cocoa Island (it takes about ten minutes) or you can meander along a narrow spit of sand that at low tide extends almost half a mile into the shimmering haze.

Back at base camp, the mood in the bar and restaurant is forever easygoing. No one bothers with shoes. The head chef is Italian; his menu international. Saturday night is curry night.
Some people would go crazy if stranded here for more than a week, and I dare say the honeymoon atmosphere might grate on some people.
But I defy anyone, however sceptical of imported glamour, not to bask in this sizzling setting.
And for those who yearn for no deadlines, no requirement to speak to anyone, no desire to do anything much at all, this is right on the (considerable) money.