The Life of a Romantic: Chasing Beauty, Adventure, and Extraordinary Experiences

I’m on the plane heading to legendary Sardinia, an island in Italy known to be the Caribbean of Europe. Dimitra has been sending me Pinterest photos of Sardinia for months leading up to my trip. I combed through everything, reading all the travel recommendations, and chose a delightful Airbnb with hundreds of positive reviews, right on one of the most high-ranking beaches in Sardinia. I looked forward to spending these three days with John on the beach, enjoying the crystal clear warm water, and eating all of the fresh seafood. I envisioned the perfect romantic getaway to celebrate our 30-year wedding anniversary.

Sardinia promised not only beauty and food but also divine shopping and indulgent experiences. I just know I’ll never want to leave. I even let my imagination wander to the idea of buying a little beach house here for personal art retreats—painting, snorkeling, and soaking up the sun. I look out the window at a gorgeous lush land below, filled with inlets, beaches, red roof houses, and small offshore islands. I can hardly wait to land, get our rental car, and see what we can see.

We arrive at our Airbnb a bit early because of the timing of the flight and decide to walk to the nearby seafood restaurant with a view of the sea. My first glimpse of the water proves a bit disappointing, but I stuff the thought aside, remembering the photos of the Airbnb. I’m sure the beach in front of our apartment will be better. Here by the restaurant it feels over-commercialized, not as clean as I had envisioned, and definitely overcrowded with tourists from every corner of the earth.

We sit at a table for lunch and order a few seafood dishes to share. It’s pretty warm out, and I look forward to changing into my suit and jumping into the water once we can get into our Airbnb. The food is yummy, but not as yummy as most of the seafood I have eaten in Greece.

This isn't the first time I have internally compared Italy to Greece. Unfortunately, I am biased, as I am Greek and suffer from what most Greeks suffer from. We think our culture, our food, our beaches, our shops are the best and none can compare. I know this about myself, and try my best to combat the bias and tell myself, “Stop being Greek! Enjoy what this culture has to offer. Stop comparing it to Greece.”

A Rocky Start

After lunch, when we are finally able to get into our Airbnb, a handy man is there replacing a broken table with the balcony door open. The apartment is extremely hot. I quickly look for AC and thankfully find a unit in each room! I’m anxious for the man to leave so John and I can just relax and be ourselves.

I’m also disappointed to find out that the Airbnb has zero wifi of any kind. The handy man told us the owners chose that so their guests could unplug and just truly enjoy where they were staying. I still have to stay somewhat plugged in to answer messages and have a couple of odd meetings, so this will be tough. Not to mention the usefulness of wifi to make reservations and check reviews.

John and I put our suits on and head outside to the beach. From a distance the beach looks really nice, and I’m excited to get a closer look. We find the path that leads there and realize we have to cross a shallow freshwater stream to get to the beach. The stream is loaded with kids playing, churning up the water and making it seem dirtier than it probably is. I try to not be put off by the crowds of families enjoying themselves and the churning and splashing of the water.

We get to the beach, which is completely overtaken by sun beds and umbrellas, water sports, and beach bars—each full to the brim with tourists. There is a tiny narrow strip of wet sand between the freshwater stream and the sea. Every spot is already full of beachgoers, so we manage to find three square feet of empty sand to plop our things down, but there is not really room to stretch out or sun bathe. The sand is wet and isn't conducive to laying out anyway. John and I are hot and ready for a dip, so we move into the water.

The water is warm and inviting, but on close examination is also slightly murky and cloudy—not as clear as I’m used to in Greece. Because the water is shallow for a ways out and there are lots of swimmers and kids running around, it makes sense it would be murky from churned sediment, not exactly dirty water. Still, I can't help but think Sarasota beaches—and definitely Greek beaches—are better.

Yet this is supposed to be the one of the best rated beaches in Europe. I’m wondering who did the rating and by what parameters. If I am honest, almost every Greek beach rates better in my mind. I try to hide my disappointments and not spread them to John.

Confessions of a Romantic

Back at the apartment after a so-so swim, I look at the weather and see that a storm is coming and it will be raining all day the following day, leaving us only one day for beach activities. John and I decide we will shop tomorrow and our last day will be reserved for renting a boat and snorkeling. I am determined to have an incredible time and leave with some treasures to remember the celebration of our 30th year of marriage. Jewelry would be ideal, but I am up for anything.

The following day we decide to go to Olbia, a small city that promises lots of great shopping. The shopping in this city is rated as top five on the island, and I can't wait. Both John and I love to shop and eat little yummy things along the way. The storm hit during the night, so the streets are wet and muddy. It is still cloudy and drizzling, but the rain is supposed to stop by 1pm.

After walking through most of the shops, John and I decide to get pizza and beer for lunch—our favorite gluttonous combo. I start reflecting on the shops at lunch and realize everything is super touristy, and there doesn’t seem to be anything that special. I was expecting really high-end boutiques, since Sardinia is the playground for Hollywood, but just saw cheap souvenir shops. I wonder how this could be rated in the top five spots for shopping in Sardinia.

Again I fight the urge of comparing shopping here to several places in Greece, or Prague, or Budapest, or Provence, and just accept that Sardinia maybe isn't a shopper’s paradise and is more about the sea and water sports.

Sitting there eating pepperoni pizza and drinking my favorite Weiss beer with John, I start to feel guilty and spoiled. Am I such a perfectionistic princess hedonist? Do I have such high expectations that I can't fully enjoy a place like Sardinia because I have seen too many other amazing places? What is wrong with me? Why am I such a pill? I can feel myself getting cranky and short and having a “tone” when I talk to John. I realize I am in the wrong but can't get myself out of it. Gosh, I am such a brat!

“John, I’m struggling. I can't shake this terrible feeling of disappointment. I had huge high hopes and expectations for this island, and it feels like one of those memes on Pinterest of expectations vs reality. I don't want to be negative, but honestly everything so far is a letdown. The Airbnb isn't that great, there’s no wifi, the beach is pretty bad, the food is good but not great, and the shopping kind of sucks unless you want imported cheap stuff made to look Italian.”

I expect John to argue with me, point out how bratty I am, and tell me to snap out of it.

“Yeah, I agree. It's okay, but not that great. So many tourists, and so it doesn’t feel that relaxing. I’d rather be on a Greek island.”

I’m shocked. I feel comforted that John is just as negative as I am. I feel validated. It seems like as we celebrate 30 years together, we are completely compatible. We love the same things. In that instant, I realize how grateful I am that John sees the world the same as I do. Somehow being spoiled feels glorious with an accomplice. I’m not alone in my high expectations.

“Maybe the boat trip tomorrow will amaze us and we will see what all the hype is about for this island. After all, here we are eating super delicious pepperoni pizza and drinking beer in Italy, and it's 1pm on a Wednesday. We have nothing to complain about. We are truly blessed…even though Greece is better.” I felt compelled to add the comparison, knowing John would agree with me.

An Unexpected Adventure

Although disappointed and not a super fan of Sardinia yet, I remain hopeful and expectant for the next day when we will try to find a boat to rent. Since it’s nearly impossible to get online at this point, with our international plan slowed down to 2mb dial-up speed, I’m not able to research where to go for boat rental. We have no choice but to drive to the neighboring beach, where we see a sign for snorkeling.

As we’re parking, we see a very similar situation to our beach, except a bit bigger and busier. We follow the signs for boat rental and snorkeling and talk to a nice lady, who informs us that they won't rent boats out because of the wind expected for the afternoon. This is very disappointing. Some of my most cherished memories in Greece are renting a boat for the day and exploring around. However, she tells us that it’s possible that the scuba diving outfit next door may have a captain available to go out.

We go next door and talk with a nice man about snorkeling. He says that after a short wait to see if any others are interested in going, we can go out with their last captain and snorkel. He will provide a guide, a boat, and equipment for only 50 euro! Our day is shaping up fast.

Within just 20 minutes, our guide announces to us that we will be the only ones on the trip, but the price will be the same. I feel so blessed to be going out on a boat to snorkel on basically a private tour for such a reasonable price.

We get into the boat and head out to the small island just outside of the bay. We’re wearing wet suits and have nice masks, snorkels, and fins. I have never been this well equipped, and I’m excited to see what the experience will be like.

I LOVE snorkeling and breathing underwater. It’s like living in a whole different world. I love seeing how the light shimmers and create webs of electric blue along the floor of the sea. It is mesmerizing to me. I was skeptical about the wet suits because the water is so warm, but after 40 minutes in the deep water, I’m really glad I have it on. With the fins we are able to cover a lot of territory. Our guide has a bogey with a flag to keep us safe from other boats. It’s all really organized and professional.

The Gift of Growing Together

Back on the boat, I say, “John do you realize nearly exactly 30 years ago today we were on a boat snorkeling in Maui on our honeymoon? Don't you think that is significant?!”

“I guess we haven't changed much. We still like snorkeling,” he says.

We have changed a lot—a whole lot. We are like two different people, but in that moment I realize we have changed together, moving in the same direction, along the same trajectory. Yes, we still love adventure. We still love snorkeling, but we are both better people today snorkeling than we were 30 years ago.

Although I remember a similar issue in Maui. I compared it to Greece. I felt like we spent a fortune for not too much. My first professional massage at the Maui resort’s spa was horrific. My whole back was bruised, and I walked out halfway through it. I romanticized and idealized my honeymoon in Maui to the point where the only possible reality was disappointment.

This snorkeling trip was special. The fish weren't that spectacular and the water was only semi-clear, but to still be married to the same man who is willing to gladly go halfway across the world and get onto a boat and dive into the sea with me, I'm forever grateful.

The day finished with a nice lunch and terrible dinner of touristy Italian pasta, mosquitos eating us alive, and a raucous outdoor shopping experience full of sketchy people and unsuspecting tourists. Our flight out of Sardinia would come very early the next morning.

All in all, Sardinia was a disappointment and didn't come close to measuring up to the pictures found on Pinterest or the Airbnb listing. But then again, most ideal photos on Pinterest don't portray the reality.

The Faith to Dream Again

I have thought a lot about disappointment lately. So many times, the reality of the outcome is far below the standards of the romantic, idealistic expectations in my head. Why am I like this? Should I lower my standards? Should I avoid having expectations? Should I change just to protect myself from disappointment?

Can you imagine making a piece of art without a vision in your mind about the outcome? Can you imagine just creating a painting, and no matter how it turns out, being happy with the result?

I can't. I have a specific vision I’m seeing when I create. I have standards that the painting must meet. If my painting doesn’t meet these standards along the way, I make changes and work towards rendering and beautifying the painting to either meet or exceed my expectations. This is how I grow as an artist.

As someone who goes out for dinner, enjoys adventures, and travels, it's the same. I have a vision for what I want and hope for. If the trip isn't going as planned or my expectations aren’t being met, I try to make changes and create a better experience. I try to live the best outcome.

If I experience a disappointment and my expectations aren't met, I don't fall apart. I don't get terribly upset. I don't feel devastated. Maybe because I know I will travel again. It's not my only shot. If a painting doesn’t go my way, I know I am not defined by it. I know I can create another painting.

So what? Sardinia was a bit of a disappointment. We still enjoyed ourselves and have beautiful memories. It’s okay if I think Greece is better. It's okay if I like Greek food more than Italian. It's perfectly fine if Pinterest photos and my photos don't match. I don't have to feel guilty or spoiled or like a big brat for having high standards or big expectations. It's a part of me that probably won't change. And maybe I don't want it to.

I love and appreciate the people who can live in the moment, live life without too many expectations, and be content with whatever they experience. They are never left wanting. I know people like this and love to be around them.

But it's okay that I am not like that. I admit almost everywhere I have been in Greece is better to me, but I still enjoyed Sardinia. I am beyond grateful and blessed that I can travel and have experiences like this at all. I am grateful to experience them with a man who understands me, knows my romantic heart, and allows me the space to work through my disappointments. He is there when I pick up the pieces, shrug off the disappointment, and set my sights onto a new horizon.

Everyone we met in Sardinia told us that Sicily is much better—the food, the beaches, the shopping. Maybe next year. After all, there’s always another horizon, another chance to dream big, and another adventure waiting to be discovered.

Do you usually set high expectations when you travel, or do you prefer to go with the flow?

Share your thoughts in the comments below!