Review: Cheval Blanc Randheli (2024 Edition)

Sometimes, I worry about myself. Have I reached the point where I’ve been spoiled by too many villas, too much luxury, that even a place like this might not feel enough?  A place I’ve loved for many years.  Thankfully, I haven’t hit that wall yet—so clearly, the only solution is to keep testing my limits.

As this is my third stay at Cheval Blanc Randheli, consider this an abbreviated review.  You can find the other two here and here.

Getting there

Whilst it would normally be a 45 minute flight from Male, this time we were coming from Soneva Jani and it was barely a 15 minute boat ride.

Setting

Cheval Blanc Randheli sits so close to Soneva Jani, yet somehow the ocean here looks clearer and more turquoise—probably because they clean everything within an inch of its life. The place is so immaculate and obsessively maintained that I suspected someone was following us around with a rake, erasing our footprints as we went.  It’s like spotting the Grim Reaper is standing behind you in all your holiday pictures.  Once you’re by the water, the sand feels almost too perfect—like nature and a very expensive maintenance team have reached some unspoken agreement.  Either that or cos it was grown in a lab somewhere.

One of the things I love about Randheli is the smaller island layout. Everything is within walking distance—no need to wait for a buggy or plan logistics just to grab a drink. The sheer convenience makes everything feel effortlessly accessible, and when you get there, the quality is (mostly) outstanding.

But what happened to this place? It used to be the Mecca of nothingness, the pinnacle of luxurious inertia. Now? Mosquitos. Yes, actual mosquitos. The audacity. And while it’s still a far cry from the Maldives’ more crowded resorts, it’s no longer the silent paradise of, say, The Nautilus or Soneva Secret. There’s definitely more plane traffic buzzing overhead.

Gym / Spa

Have these changed since my last stay? No. What has changed is me—I’ve since become a fully certified gym-goer to the point where I even built one at home.  Don’t judge my mid-life crisis.

The gym is a decent size. The equipment is mostly TechnoGym—no longer state of the art, but perfectly adequate.  There’s the normal cardio and a good selection of strength machines – ambitious for a place where the heaviest thing being lifted is a Dior handbag.  You can still get a solid workout in, all while enjoying those picture-perfect ocean views that remind you there are better things you could be doing. There’s a dedicated spinning room and a separate Pilates room, which contains a boxing bag and not much else.  Like someone found an empty space, mistook it for the attic and shoved in whatever equipment was lying around.

The spa, on the other hand, is both a blessing and an inconvenience. Getting to it requires a five-minute boat ride, which is novel the first time but quickly loses its charm. Seeing as the island itself is man-made, I can’t help but wonder if they regret this choice. Had they placed it within walking distance, I’m sure it would get much more business.  All the same, I was left with little choice but to head there.  After overdoing it in the gym (proving that waiting until I was 35 to start exercising was, in fact, a sound decision), I found myself at the spa for a 30-minute deep tissue massage—aka torture. Assad would have been shamed by the pain handed out.  But it mostly fixed my neck. So, success?

Rooms

First impressions? Or is that third impressions?  Still love it. The villas here may be much smaller than Soneva Jani’s, but they feel infinitely more luxurious. The high ceilings do a fantastic job of creating a sense of space—proof that size isn’t everything, after all, ladies.   And sure, Randheli’s design has been shamelessly copied by just about everyone at this point, but it’s still a stunner. Classic, elegant, and effortlessly chic. For families, the layout is ideal. The extra sitting area in front of the bed can easily be transformed into a bed.

This time, I once again stayed in Island Villa, but in #14, the opposite side of the island from my last visit.  An Island Villa are still my recommendation, mostly because they’re on land, but more mostly because they’re so close to the main resort that I can walk there in time measured in seconds.  The view is not winning any awards, thanks to those ever-present wavebreakers, but it’s far more private. If you’re on the other side, the downside is that it also opens up to people strolling past, which is perfect if you have a thing for exhibitionism. Unlike Velaa and Soneva Secret, this villa lacks the dense trees and shrubbery to provide true privacy.

One thing I noticed immediately is how impressively well air-conditioned the rooms are. Not just cool, but that glorious, silent, ice-box level of climate control.  The pool temperature was also perfect. Just the right balance between refreshing and “I’m never getting out.”

Oh, and the infamous hidden steps—those treacherous little traps that must have caused countless stubbed toes, a few bruised egos, and the occasional lawsuit threat? Mostly gone. Mostly. I’d like to believe this was a direct result of my previous feedback—because, obviously, my opinions carry weight here.

Service

They did an excellent job of remembering all our preferences from the last visit. However, while the welcome spread was undeniably generous, I couldn’t help but wish it had been more tailored to our actual tastes—less, but more thoughtful, is better. On the plus side, they absolutely nailed it with the kids’ toys—where more is always better.  It even briefly created the illusion that we might actually get a quiet moment.  One of the nicest touches was finding a bath ready for us upon arrival.  Maybe they wanted to cleanse us of Soneva.  It didn’t work too well, though, as our newly potty-trained 2-year-old took a dump in it and tried to frame someone else.

The relentless “bonjour” greeting somehow managed to annoy me this time around. Maybe it’s my third times not a charm visit, or maybe the creeping anti-French sentiment finally got to me. Either way, I’m clearly less metropolitan than I once thought.

Our butler had three rooms to manage, and while he was enthusiastically eager to impress, it often felt like a child proudly listing their achievements—constantly updating us on all the nice things he’d done. But I liked him; he genuinely cared, which counts for a lot. He also showed up a lot—every evening meal, often breakfast too, ensuring we were never too far from his updates.  He also did a wonderful job for Lucie’s birthday, with the room nicely decorated and stuffing us all with perpetual cake.  And I like that the bill does not have a tipping option, so you can decide at the end rather than feeling guilted with every drink.

We were recognised and warmly welcomed back by multiple staff members, some of whom even remembered details from previous stays—right down to a mistake from two years ago. As if I would be remembered for making someone remember a problem.  The GM was also visible throughout, though he disappeared mid-stay to tend to his side hustle in the newly opened Cheval Blanc Seychelles.

However, the overall attentiveness wasn’t always consistent. Sometimes they nailed our preferences—other times, it was like they’d never met us before. Being handed wine menus when we don’t drink or getting the wrong water type was a little too common. They promised to set up our usual lunch spot after noticing we sat there every day but… didn’t. And the saga of the forgotten kids’ cutlery continued far too long to be amusing.

Then there was the smoking incident at the bar, where Lucie tried to start a minor diplomatic conflict with a guest who insisted on puffing away with the doors closed. She politely asked him to stop, he politely declined, and we relocated. To their credit, Cheval comped our meal—unnecessary but appreciated. A simple “no smoking indoors” rule would have made more sense. I briefly considered parking my screaming children next to him and saying, “Well, it’s not bothering me.” Missed opportunity.

By the final day, cracks started to show. The resort was getting busier, and standards slipped—our fridge was left empty late into the afternoon when it was normally topped up like clockwork, and half-eaten food sat abandoned longer than it should have. It all felt a touch less generous than in previous visits.

Food

The pastries remain on fine form.  The cheese bread they put down at the beginning of meals was absolutely amazing. The kind of dangerously addictive thing you pretend to nibble on while secretly inhaling the entire basket. The pastries situation at breakfast—utter madness. The chef was clearly on a one-man mission to make us fat, delivering what were essentially cakes disguised as pastries to our table every morning. And just when we thought we were safe, another cake would magically appear in our pantry later. Resistance was futile.

And the cakes. Oh, the cakes. It all starts innocently enough—there’s an epic cake waiting in the fridge on day one, a lovely surprise. But then they just keep coming. Day after day, stealthily appearing like delicious little saboteurs, determined to ruin any pretence of restraint.  They’re lethal. One moment you’re enjoying a casual bite, the next you’re contemplating an intervention. And then, the great cake debacle of our fourth night—they forgot to give us one. A true travesty.  I’m still recovering from the betrayal.

Breakfast remains the same, with a small buffet.  However, the à la carte menu more than makes up for it, offering an extensive selection of dishes from all over the world.

The kids’ menu deserves a special mention—not just the usual lazy pasta-and-pizza lineup. They’ve actually put some thought into it, with options like tiger prawns, and the best part? It’s free for kids under 5. You know you’re in a proper luxury resort when your kid can order prawns on the house.

Then, there was the baby chicken, which was, without question, the best thing I ate on the entire trip.  Well, until we got to Velaa.

As for Diptyque, I remember it being outstanding on my last visit, but this time? Not so much. I booked it twice, and after the first round, I promptly cancelled the second. Sometimes, memories are better left untouched.

Overall, I really liked the food, with Diptyque being the only real letdown. Also, my 3-year-old now believes it’s normal to have an evening dress for dinner and insists on changing into one every night. So thanks for that, Randheli.

Kids Friendly

Within hours of arriving, Alia fell into a water feature, triggering what can only be described as a resort-wide emergency response. They politely suggested calling a doctor, which would have made it four resorts, four doctors on this trip. I’m convinced she’s on a personal mission to audit the entire medical infrastructure of the Maldives.

One of the standout benefits of the Kids Club is that kids aged three and up are welcome at the kids’ club complimentary. Most places stubbornly stick to 4, or even 5, which is proof that the devil exists.

The kids’ club itself has had a serious upgrade. Well, the outside anyway.  It features a brand-new pool with slides and the cutest baby-sized loungers that make you question why adult life is so unfair. There’s also a shiny new water park area, which is the kind of upgrade that makes you wish you were young again—minus the shit-stained pants.

I loved the new pools.  One is perfectly shallow for splashing around without the fear of your child needing to be resuscitated ten minutes later, and the slides—well, they ended up being more our thing than the kids’. They may be better looking than me, but I’m still braver than a 2-year-old.  In their face.  It meant more sliding fun for us. No regrets.

For the older kids (or parents who still think we’re cool), the teens club has seen some solid improvements too. It boasts air hockey, two massive TVs, a pool table, an arcade machine, and some games consoles. There’s also a chess board, which—judging by its untouched state—has seen less action than me in my teens.

The Good

• Setting
• Gym
• Spa
• Food

The Bad

• Service took a few dips here and there
• Plane noise

The Luxurious

• Accommodation
• Kids Club

Conclusion

I’d love to tell you this is all serious research, that my return was of vital importance, but the truth is simpler—I just love this place. Few resorts are worth revisiting after only a few years just to see what’s changed. And in Randheli’s case, the only real update was the kids’ club refurbishment—to be fair, a significant improvement.

The biggest change since my first visit, when I considered it one of the best properties in the world, isn’t the resort—it’s me. I’ve stayed in better places since, seen more, and my standards have shifted. Yet, I still find myself loving the rooms and how everything comes together into this superbly curated product.

Cheval Blanc Randheli continues to deliver a polished, beautifully designed, hyper-luxury experience—just don’t come expecting anything remotely Maldivian.