The best things in life often sneak up on you—like a surprise party you didn’t even know you were throwing for yourself. It’s funny, isn’t it? How we meticulously plan “perfect” afternoon picnics or “perfect” weekend getaways, only to have them droop under the weight of our own expectations. And yet, it’s the unplanned, serendipitous moments that leave the deepest marks on us. One of the best days of my life was one of those unscripted treasures—completely unplanned, utterly spontaneous, and forever unforgettable.
It began with reluctance. My stepfather, a man passionate about diving and snorkeling, had organized a trip with his diving group to Santa Margherita Ligure in Liguria, just a short skip from the famed Portofino. My mom and I were invited along. Frankly, I wasn’t thrilled. “What am I even going to do there?” I thought. The prospect of lounging at the beach or jogging aimlessly didn’t exactly make me leap with excitement. But life, as it often does, had other plans.
After a four-hour drive, we arrived in Santa Margherita Ligure. And oh, the beauty of it. The water was a postcard-perfect turquoise, the kind of clarity that made you question why you’d ever swum in a cloudy pool. The town itself was charming, with colourful villas nestled among vibrant bougainvillea and luxurious yachts floating in the harbor like they owned the place—which, honestly, they probably did.
That Saturday morning, I laced up my running shoes and decided to jog to Portofino. It was just a few kilometers along the seashore, and I figured I might as well see what all the fuss was about. The run was transformative. With every step, I felt like I was moving through a living painting. The sunlight shimmered on the water, flowers bloomed in colors, and the air carried the kind of freshness that made you want to inhale just a little deeper. By the time I reached Portofino, I had one thought: “This is it. I’m peaking.”
Portofino itself, while undeniably picturesque, was crowded to the brim with tourists, like a tiny celebrity overwhelmed by its own fame. After a quick stroll up to a garden with a breathtaking sea view, I turned back, eager to run that glorious stretch again. On the return jog, I felt something new—a runner’s high, but deeper. The sheer beauty of the place overwhelmed me, and I had to blink back tears. That wasn’t sweat; it was my soul leaking.
Later that afternoon, my mom and stepfather joined the diving group, leaving me alone on the beach. Restless, I spotted a group of locals my age playing volleyball. Summoning every ounce of my social courage, I asked if I could join. They welcomed me warmly, as though I had been missing from their circle all along. After hours of games and laughter, they invited me to celebrate a friend’s birthday that evening. Why not? It’s not every day you get invited to a stranger’s birthday party.
The night unfolded like a dream. We gathered at a cozy pizzeria, laughing and sharing stories as though we’d been friends for years. Then came the cherry on top: one of the boys suggested we drive to a private beach for a swim under the stars. At this point, I thought, “Could this day get any better?” Spoiler: it could.
We all crammed into his car, David Bowie serenading us through the speakers, and headed toward the secluded beach. The night sky was a masterpiece—stars so clear and each one visible, untouched by city lights. We changed into our swimsuits behind the trees (a makeshift curtain of modesty) and dashed into the inky water. It wasn’t cold; it was perfect. At first, we splashed and played like kids in a summer commercial. But then came the stillness.
Floating on my back, a few meters from the group, I stared up at the vast expanse above me. The world fell silent. In that moment, I wasn’t just in the universe—I was part of it. I felt weightless, not just in body but in spirit, overwhelmed by a profound sense of gratitude simply to be. And then, like a whisper from the stars themselves, a thought came to me: “I can do anything. I can be anything. All I have to do is step out of my comfort zone. Magic doesn’t wait—it happens when you move.”
An hour later, we reluctantly left the beach, the night already etched into my heart. As the car wove back to Santa Margherita, Bowie still playing softly in the background, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time: alive.
Years later, I still think about that day. It taught me something I carry with me always: the best moments aren’t in the plans. They’re in the bravery it takes to say yes, in the courage to drift beyond the familiar. Life isn’t waiting for you to make a schedule. It’s waiting for you to make a move.
Love, V
