The sun beat down on the crowded mess of people I was embarrassed to be a part of. People squeezed around me, accidentally exchanging glistening drops of sweat every time we brushed into each other.

No matter right? This was supposed to be one of the most beautiful places in the world.

Moments later, I arrived. Before me were 3 blue domes surrounded by majestic houses built from volcanic ash and painted white for continuity.

Only, I hadn't quite arrived. I was stuck in a queue of 50+ wrapped around multiple corners, all waiting for their chance to take their photo with the famous domes.

The moment they would brag about to their Instagram followers. They were living the dream.

The heat intensified. In front of me, someone's chocolate ice cream dripped onto the marble street. I was thirsty, but 0.5L of water was €2.

I looked around.

What am I doing here? I thought, "And why am I really standing in this line?"

The Greece You Won't Hear About

This isn't what you'd expect from Santorini, Greece. It's certainly not what you'll see on social media.

But I'd been in Greece for 3 weeks–enough to realize Santorini is Greece in name only.

Shortly after arriving on the island, a driver honked at me for walking on the side of the road. There was no sidewalk. Then it happened twice more before the end of the day.

One guy rolled down his window and yelled "What the f***!" at me.

Man. They must be really fed up with tourists.

Despite a similar lack of infrastructure on the other islands, Santorini was the only place this happened. My favorite aspects of Greece–hospitable people, delicious food, and ridiculously inexpensive–didn't exist here.

It all left me questioning.

Why did I even come?

Truth Hurts

Before I even arrived, I was skeptical that I'd like it.

These popular, overcommercialized destinations have never appealed to me. They're normally a dilution of culture rather than an enhancement of it. They're more expensive and crowded, and the tourists who mistreat the place catalyze locals into taking their anger out on future tourists.

But I went anyway. Why?

It wasn't for a €3 gyro–Santorini doesn't have those. It wasn't for a beautiful seaside hotel–I couldn't afford that. It couldn't have been to wait behind 50 people for a photo–I can do that anywhere with no line.

Rather, I went because of a phenomenon we're all susceptible to: herd mentality.

I've fallen into this trap before. A place looks really nice online. I'm warned that it's gotten out of control by fellow travelers.

But, I reason, I'm traveling for a year. I might as well check it out anyway.

I arrive to long lines, prices through the roof, and an experience that leaves me questioning if shuffling through like a sheep in a flock was worth it to check the "Been to _____" box.

Santorini wasn't the first place I felt like part of the herd–Istanbul, Turkey; Venice, Italy; and Amsterdam, Netherlands made me feel the same way. A week prior, Mykonos was also especially bad. But Santorini kickstarted a change in thinking that the others didn't.

Listening to Myself

Perhaps I just needed to make the same mistake enough times.

Since Santorini, I've forced myself to ignore the FOMO from glamorous travel vlogs and started thinking independently.

I skipped Dubrovnik, Croatia, and Kotor, Montenegro, opting instead for Split and Ulcinj–the slightly less popular, less commercialized, and less expensive alternatives.

I won't walk around the Game of Thrones city, but I never watched GoT anyway. I'll miss the "can't-miss" beauty of Kotor, but luckily Kotor isn't the only beautiful place in the world.

I also won't be charged an arm and a leg to feel like I'm part of the herd, which brings me satisfaction on a trip where all my best experiences cost $0.

I've taken this a step further and began skipping the costly local offerings.

You know, the €50 trip to the beautiful national park. Or €30 to watch the sunset from the water instead of on the shore.

This might appear like I'm being frugal to a fault. Instead, I think it's being frugal the way I'm supposed to.

I've done these excursions in the past and they've never been the highlight. Learning about the culture, talking to people, and the occasional unforgettable night out–those are the memories that stick.

Intentionality

There are plenty of other Greek islands that are less crowded and more friendly, but their names aren't Santorini.

However, each is an opportunity to break away from the herd and probably experience something much nicer.

I made the same mistakes before, and I might make them again so this isn't a dig on anyone who has Santorini at the top of their bucket list. Rather it’s an opportunity to think about the why behind a place.

Why am I going there? Will it make me happy? Am I doing it just because everyone else is too? Or is there something that genuinely interests me?

In the future, I'll be striving to follow my heart.

Hopefully, that takes me away from the herd.