Champagne Dreams and Hammock Realities

You know that elusive bucket list we all swear we’re working on? Mine mostly still lives on my vision board… except for one sparkling exception.

I finally got to live out my dream of sleeping in a bungalow over the ocean. Yes, friends, I hauled myself across 27 hours of flights (plural, and yes, I wore compression socks) to land in paradise: the Maldives.

We stayed on Vommuli Island, a tiny atoll whose only resident is the St. Regis. No cars, just beach cruisers and your own two feet. My personal record for biking the entire island? Six minutes flat. Competition may not be relaxing for everyone, but beating my husband on a bike with one gear? That’s my kind of self-care.

A week here is ideal: long enough to fully exhale, short enough to still fit into your swimsuit. My top recommendations? Spend a day at the Iridium Spa, and don’t miss sunset at the Whale Bar, where they saber champagne. Yes, that’s now on my résumé under “special skills.” And oh—our room came with a butler. A real, actual butler. He was lovely, though I was too Midwestern to fully lean in. I wanted to ask for four ice cubes engraved with my initials for my nightcap, but instead I just said thank you too many times and made my own tea. Baby steps.

All in all, a dream trip I can’t recommend enough. Maldives: 10/10. Will diva harder next time.