The Island: A More Travel Story
We’ve always valued working closely with local partners, and Stamford Living is one we particularly enjoy being part of. As a business rooted in Stamford, it matters to us to stay connected to the community around us – not just through the trips we plan, but through the stories we share.
Helen Dooley, our founder, recently wrote this piece for the May 2026 edition of Stamford Living magazine. It reflects the kind of travel we naturally specialise in – considered, unhurried, and shaped properly behind the scenes.
The Island: A love story you don’t plan, you simply arrive in
You don’t book The Island. Not really.
You hear about it – quietly, indirectly – through people who don’t overshare. And when you ask how to get there, the answer is always the same: you don’t. They arrange it.
More Travel deal in places that feel like secrets – soft, unspoken, and somehow more meaningful because of it. This is one of them.
It starts without effort.
No early alarms. No stress. Just a smooth journey where every detail has already been handled. Somewhere between leaving and arriving, the noise of everyday life fades out – the emails you forgot to send, the messages that no longer feel urgent.
And then, there it is… The Island.
Not dramatic. Not crowded. Just quietly beautiful in a way that makes you instinctively slow down.
You look at each other – not because there’s something to say, but because there isn’t. And that’s rare.
Time moves differently here.
Mornings begin gently – coffee shared in silence, the kind that feels comfortable rather than empty. Sunlight spills across still water. Plans are loosely formed, then easily abandoned.
You walk without deciding where to go.
You stop because something looks good – a table by the sea, a shaded corner, a place that feels right in the moment.
Lunch turns into an afternoon.
An afternoon turns into nothing in particular.
And somehow, that becomes everything.
There are beaches, of course., but not the kind you rush to.
The kind you find.
Clear water that invites you in without hesitation. Quiet stretches where you don’t need to speak, because the stillness says enough. You swim, you drift, you lie in the sun a little longer than you meant to.
There’s no one watching the time.
So, neither do you.
At some point, you take the boat.
Everyone who knows The Island does.
Not for the photos, not for the itinerary, but for that feeling – when it’s just you, the open water and a coastline that reveals itself slowly.
You find places that don’t feel real. Coves you can only reach like this. Moments where you laugh for no reason… or say nothing at all.
And later, you won’t remember exactly what you did that day.
Only how it felt.
Evenings arrive softly.
A table by the water.
Glasses that are never rushed. Conversations that stretch, pause and start again. The kind where you realise you haven’t been this present with each other in a long time.
No distractions.
No need to be anywhere else.
Just the quiet luxury of time and each other.
And that’s the thing about The Island.
It’s not about what you do. It’s what it gives back.
Space to slow down.
Space to reconnect.
Space to remember why you wanted to get away in the first place – not just from everything else, but towards each other.
When it’s time to leave, it doesn’t feel dramatic.
Just a little quieter.
You carry it with you – not as a checklist of places, but as a feeling you can’t quite explain to anyone who hasn’t been.
Which, in a way, is the point.
Because The Island was never meant for everyone.
Only for those who know who to ask.
More Travel don’t just take you away.
They bring you back to what matters.
This piece was originally written for Stamford Living, a publication we’re proud to partner with as part of the local Stamford community. If you’d like to read the full feature as it appeared in print, you can do so here.