Year in, year out, I watch people flock to the same three or four Mediterranean islands, either because they've got a thing for white parties and bottle service, or they just don't know any better.
Not to be patronizing, but I mean, if I were a casual visitor to Europe myself and didn't, ahem, live here, I probably wouldn't think there was an alternative on offer beyond Mykonos or Ibiza, when they're basically the only islands that get flogged to death by travel influencers.
I spend my summers in the Mediterranean, though, and I've got a good 40+ islands under my belt, from the most popular Cycladic hotspots in Greece to the legendary Balearic nightlife scene, so take it from me:
Your Mediterranean summer doesn't need to look like insane crowds, spray-tanned girls with pouting lips all posing for the exact same sunset picture, and watered-down $15 sangrias you could've probably made better at home.
From someone who's spent years hopping between and exploring the Ancient Sea, here are five of the dreamiest islands I'll never forget—and that you've probably been sleeping on.
Hvar, Croatia
Let's start this off with a classic.
Croatia's response to Ibiza, Hvar has developed quite the reputation as a party dump in recent years, especially with the British stag dos overspilling from neighboring Split, and while there's some grain of truth in this tale, Carpe Diem Beach Bar is not everything this island has to offer.
The main town here, Hvar Town, is a picture-perfect Spanish-fortified historic port, with cobbled streets that look ripped straight off the Westeros playbook—are GoT fans still hanging about out in Croatia?—tiny piazzette anchored by Romanesque chapels, and a beautiful promenade flanked by bobbing yachts.
Hvar also has some of the best beaches in the entire Dalmatian Coast, with Dubovica in particular being popular for its white pebbles and crescent shape, and Mekićevica, a secluded cove with exceptionally clear water at the end of a 40-minute hike down from Hvar Town.
If you know the first thing about me, you know I'm primarily drawn to the Old World allure of it all, and over in Stari Grad, the oldest settlement on the island, there's no shortage of ancient wonders:
Don't miss the Tvrdalj Palace, a fortified historic villa featuring a beautiful fishpond, and the UNESCO-protected Stari Grad Plains, a Greek-inspired farming landscape that's remained largely unchanged since the 4th century BC.
Before you fly to Europe this summer, check the travel rules in place at the Entry Requirement Checker page.
From mandatory fingerprinting to major border delays, there's a lot you need to prepare for in advance.
Folegandros, Greece
Out of those 40+ Med islands I've been to, 23 have been Greek islands, and no matter how hard I try to forget it, Folegandros creeps back into my mind every time.
Maybe it's the local cheese and delicious grilled octopus that haunt my palate to this day, or the otherworldly sight of that cluster of whitewashed houses at the feet of that zig-zagging staircase, leading up to a Byzantine church perched on a rugged cliffside, but whatever it is, this is what Greece does best.
I particularly love Folegandros for how low-effort, unpretentious, and laid-back it is: unlike your average Mediterranean spot, which can feel rather overwhelming due to the sheer number of attractions to see and do, this one is less about sightseeing and bucket list checks, and all about vibes and slowing down.
The entire island measures only 2 miles wide at its widest point, and 8 miles long, so if you're renting a scooter for the day, beach-hopping is just as easy as pie, and during the evenings, the main town Chora comes to life with its taverna-lined piazze, bougainvillea-framed alleys lined with bars, and late-night chatter.
Side note: Agali Beach is a must-visit for teal seas and waterfront seafood eateries alone, and to my fellow gastro-nomads out there, you'll want to make sure you book a table at Piatsa Restaurant, right in the heart of Chora, for dinner one of these nights.
They're 3/4 of the reason why I'm tempted to return to Folegandros every summer.
The remaining third is how safe Greece feels to island-hop compared to most of Western Europe.
The country currently ranks at Level 1 on the U.S. Department of State Travel Advisory page, and as for the Traveler Safety Index, which is based on reports from travelers themselves, it scores an impressive 89 out of 100:
Formentera, Spain
Freaky girls go to Ibiza. Do-nothing babes go to Formentera.
Especially those of us with a penchant for afternoon naps, paradisiacal naturist-friendly beaches, and low-effort living.
Formentera is Ibiza's smaller, boomerang-shaped sister, and the only island in the Balearics without its own airport. Once you pull into port on the ferry from bustling Eivissa, you'll quickly realize that's probably a blessing in disguise.
Formentera exists in an alternate universe altogether, where the DJs and superclubs of its world-famous neighbor are swapped for undeveloped coastal stretches, dirt tracks winding through pine groves and family-run vineyards, and sleepy inland villages still clinging to that old-school Balearic charm.
It's not exactly a hidden gem, and some beaches along the north coast—the side facing Ibiza—do get busy in peak season.
Then again, when the sands are powdered-sugar white, and the sea looks like someone cranked the saturation up to 100, you can hardly blame Ibiza-bound holidaymakers for hopping over, even if only for the day. In case you're wondering, the ferry takes barely 30 minutes.
Even so, it never reaches Sant Antoni levels of madness, and if you stay the night, you'll find the wildest nightlife you're likely to encounter in places like Sant Francesc Xavier is a handful of no-frills bars serving cocktails at sunset, with none of the velvet ropes, bottle service, or dress codes.
Formentera is my happy medium when I don't quite fancy disappearing to some remote island in the arse-end of nowhere just to escape the crowds, yet I'd rather avoid the hangovers, heaving beaches, and occasional stag-do invasion that come with the usual Mediterranean hotspots.
Kalymnos, Greece
This one I visited quite recently, only a few weeks ago in fact, and the salty coastal breeze blowing against weathered shutters, and that rhythm of the pebble-paved shorelines is still fresh in my brain.
Kalymnos is Greece without the crushing weight of overtourism.
Pothia, the coastal capital, is likely one of the most beautiful Greek island capitals I've been to. Instead of the usual whitewashed cubic houses and blue domes, you get pastel hues and sage-green shutters, stone-paved pathways that wind along flower-draped front porches, and a working harbor.
Over in Vathy, which I can only describe to the best of my abilities as Norwegian fjord meets Greek village, there's a sleepy little village at the end of a narrow bay, with only a handful of seafood tavernas, and—oh, and an early Christian chapel perched on the hillside, or two.
The truly mindblowing thing about Kalymnos, however, is the panoramic views from up its many hiking trails.
This just happens to be one of the top rock-climbing destinations in the entire world, but I won't sit here and bare-face lie to you that I was playing Spider-Man and dangling down those vertiginous rock faces, plunging right down into the Aegean.
What I will say is I climbed the relatively easy 30-minute trail leading to Grande Grotta, a cavernous chamber overlooking the nearby island of Telendos, and watched the most beautiful, flaming-red, fire-in-the-sky Aegean sunset I've seen in my entire life.
Maybe, just maybe, it tops the classic Oia Castle sundown.
