Escape to Rhodes: Sun, Salty Hair & the Joy of Saying Yes

August was meant to be a calm, classic London summer. Think: iced oat lattes, slow mornings, and long walks through the city in linen. I’d pictured myself journal in one hand, smoothie in the other, sashaying through Notting Hill in perfectly planned outfits.

But somewhere between my second Aperol and a voice note rant about needing “just one last sun-soaked escape,” I found myself impulse-booking a solo trip to Rhodes. Laptop in one hand, bikini in the other. It was spontaneous, bold, and probably my best decision all year.

I needed a reset. Something just for me. A space to be quiet, free, a little sunburnt, and wildly unbothered by the city pace. And babe, Rhodes delivered.

Rhodes: My Last-Minute Greek Reset

I went with zero expectations. No itinerary, no real plan—just a vision of morning coffees by the sea, lazy afternoons with salt-drenched hair, and golden hour wine on a rooftop. The dream was “remote-working goddess meets barefoot coastal nomad.” And somehow, it worked.

Trip highlights:

• Wandering through Rhodes Old Town – Cobbled alleys, hidden doors, and crumbling medieval walls. I got blissfully lost more than once, dipping into tiny boutiques and shadowy archways scented with jasmine. It felt cinematic.

• Afternoons at Anthony Quinn Bay – Turquoise water that shimmered like it was filtered in real-time. I laid on sun-warmed rocks with the sea lapping nearby and felt all the stress slide right off me. I read, I dozed, I floated. And I downed cold beers that hit like divine intervention.

• A day trip to Lindos – White-washed steps, donkeys trotting past, and the Acropolis in the distance. It was hot—like, the kind of heat that forces you to slow down. I stopped for a frozen peach daiquiri that may have changed my religion.

• Greek food – I had at least one Greek salad every day. Feta so creamy it should be illegal. Olive oil poured with the drama of a love letter. Grilled octopus. Crispy courgette fritters. Fresh sardines. All of it. I’ve never eaten so well while wearing so little.

• Sunsets on rooftops – Pink skies, rosé in hand, a gentle breeze on tanned skin. My soundtrack was cicadas and the soft clink of cutlery from dinner tables nearby. Pure peace.

Also: I’d forgotten how kind people are when you travel solo. And how deeply healing it is to be anonymous for a few days.

Half-Work, Half-Holiday: Remote Life Fantasy, Activated

Technically, I was still working. Emails were answered. Clients were supported. Zooms were attended (from cafés so Instagrammable I had to actively stop myself from filming content).

The rhythm:

• Mornings with a freddo espresso and a sea view, inbox cleared before 10.

• Midday beach breaks with my phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ and sunscreen on full blast.

• Post-swim check-ins with sand in my hair and zero apologies.

• Evenings spent writing with a spritz nearby and my bikini still damp.

Everything that needed to get done? Got done. But more than that, I felt good doing it. There was flow, freedom, and none of the stress that sometimes creeps in when I’m trying to ‘do it all’ back in London. More proof that sometimes the shift we need isn’t internal—it’s just 1,400 miles south.

Mindset: Saying Yes Without Overthinking

This trip wasn’t about healing, exactly. It was about living. Softly. Fully. Without waiting for the perfect moment.

Instead of planning every detail, I trusted myself to figure it out as I went. I said yes to boat rides with strangers, wine with dinner even on a Tuesday, late-night swims, solo dinners with a book as company. I stopped asking permission—from others or myself.

Right now, I’m reminding myself to:

• Say yes more often, and faster.

• Book the thing. Wear the thing. Eat the thing.

• Let plans change. Let life unfold.

• Stop gatekeeping my own joy.

Also: I truly believe there’s a version of me that belongs by the sea, barefoot and sun-kissed, with a cupboard full of linen and zero meetings before 11am.

Style: Channeling Greek Goddess with Minimal Effort

I packed light, and yet somehow everything worked. There’s something about heat, salt, and golden light that just makes you feel like your most magnetic self.

My Rhodes wardrobe hitlist:

• Floaty white cotton dresses that made me look far more innocent than I am.

• Linen sets with gold hoops and bare shoulders.

• A silk scarf that served as a hair wrap, top, belt, and shade provider.

• A white bikini I was oddly proud of—it felt like my reward for showing up for myself this year.

• Simple sandals, oversized sunglasses, and one basket bag that held everything from books to baklava.

I’ve never felt more beautiful with so little effort.

Beauty & Wellness: Sun, Salt & Stripped-Back Bliss

Let’s be real: the Greek sun did 90% of the work. But I’ll take credit for the other 10%, which came down to simplicity and hydration.

The glow-up game plan:

• SPF was my religion (Ultra Violette, again, a queen).

• I let the sea do the rest—hair textured naturally, skin air-dried and glowing.

• Aloe, after-sun, and litres of water.

• Morning walks and beach dips replaced any structured workouts.

• Long showers with eucalyptus oil and a loofah changed my entire energy.

Also: I brought one lipstick and didn’t use it. Skin, brows, and joy were more than enough.

Pop Culture, Trends & What’s Happening Right Now

• Greek Island > Amalfi Coast – No shade, but I’ve made my choice.

• Coastal Granddaughter energy is the vibe of the moment—breezy, bronzed, no agenda.

• Beyoncé’s tour wardrobe has me rethinking metallics for autumn.

• Everyone is either soft-launching or hard-launching someone. I’m launching myself.

• Salt is trending. From ocean dips to salted chocolate everything—I’m here for it.

The Month Ahead: Reality, But With a Postcard Filter

• Back in London, but with new eyes. Softer, clearer.

• Letting summer linger in my wardrobe and my energy.

• Looking into Portugal for a September mini-break. A reset to the reset.

• Bringing my Rhodes rhythm into the city—slower starts, longer evenings.

• New work projects are simmering. But I’m not rushing. Letting the ideas come to me.

August, you were a chapter I didn’t see coming—but needed more than I knew.

Here’s to September, with salt still in my hair and joy stitched into everything I wear.

Sophie x