You know a region’s going to be good when its name is Latin. Vox Populi means “voice of the people”. Which, in my experience, usually sounds like someone in a group chat yelling “TP PLEASE?” and someone else replying with a sarcastic landmark to a cornfield.
But not here. No, Vox Populi is peaceful. Gorgeous. And blessedly corn-free.
This island gem is surrounded by the ocean and dotted with beaches that practically beg for barefoot strolls, impromptu yoga, or dramatically staring into the horizon like you’re in a breakup montage. For the occasion, I brought my emotional support fish. It’s important to have someone to share your deep thoughts with, even if that someone is stuffed, mute, and smells faintly of inventory dust.
The inland area features a few tranquil ponds, and, surprise!, a sheep field. Real, woolly sheep. I spent a questionable amount of time trying to decide which one was the leader (it’s Gary, obviously). It gave me strong countryside vibes with just a touch of cult energy, but the cute kind, you know?
Scattered across the landscape are picturesque ruins perfect for pretending you’re in a mysterious backstory, and some weathered little houses that scream, “A fisherman lives here and he knows too much.” The detailing is lovely without being fussy, and the whole region feels like it’s quietly lived-in. Like someone just stepped away to get more bait.
There’s even a little bar tucked away, serving drinks and fast food. It felt very authentic, somewhere between coastal dive and rustic chic. I absolutely recommend grabbing a beer while waiting for your boat to come in. Spoiler: No boat is coming for you.
Vox Populi manages to be both scenic and welcoming, like a postcard you accidentally fell into. It’s the kind of place that makes you want to slow down, wander, and maybe form an emotional connection with a virtual sheep. Highly recommend bringing your sensible shoes and your camera. And maybe a friend.
