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We dropped anchor while a half dozen other yachts languidly sailed past us, each seeking their own secluded bays to while away the afternoon hours.

On the distant hillside, ancient groves of cork, olive and eucalyptus trees shimmered in the sun. Lazily, we trailed our toes in the water before summoning up the courage to dive in. Breaking the turquoise sheet glass into a spray of a thousand water droplets, we laughed and felt alive.

Memories from the prior evening poured in: sipping aperol spritzes on the dock at sunset, feasting on plates of prosciutto, pecorino and culurgiones, strolling the piazza as the crowd hummed around us—every man, woman and child’s face awash with the glow of summer in Sardinia.