Sobriety Diary: Week 2 & 3—Sober Holiday

Ditching my most loved holiday accessory: Alcohol

Dates: August 4th-August 17th

Days Sober: 21

If there’s ever a time for indulgence and one that is stereotypically linked with the free flow of alcohol in forms of colourful cocktails and constantly chilled rosé, it’s when we go on summer holidays.

Before I even board the plane, Coops around Zurich remind me that the sun is an invitation to let loose by lining checkouts with bottles of Aperol and light pink rosés, offering a primer before I go to hotter destinations.

My summer holiday to Sardinia felt like I was walking into the eye of the storm. It would be my first sober holiday ever since alcohol became a mainstay in my life.

Sure, the week prior I’d been out five nights in a row where alcohol was present, but how would I respond to temptation under the Sardinian sun, watching other holiday goers enjoy their drinks?

How would the absence of alcohol impact my first trip to Vienna on my second leg of the holiday?

How would I cope without my apartment being my safe haven at the end of the night?

And had I flexed my sobriety muscles too hard the week before? Would I be able to withstand temptation as easily as I did the week prior?

Boarding

When flying for my holiday, I’m accustomed to grabbing a glass of wine at ​​Villa Antinori da Bindella in Zurich airport and sitting on the brown leather bench facing towards the windows with a view of the planes. It’s an Instagrammable moment (I hate myself too for saying it) where I usually announce my destination, say “hurrah” to myself for getting to the airport in one piece, making it through security, and where the holiday clock officially starts. A deep sigh of relief that I’m transitioning into flight mode.

This time though, I headed to the Swiss Lounge and ate a questionable amount of tortilla chips with a rather anonymous red paste (tomato hummus?).

I won’t lie, it definitely didn’t hit the same as a sparkling glass of bubbly or yellow hues of a white, nor did it feel as romantic. But, I’m on a mission and I plan on completing it, so I started my holiday off on a new note: with tonic water.

Sardinia Part 1

I visited Sardinia for the first time last year, so it felt like I was going somewhere where I already knew how it paired with alcohol. I’d spent most days day-drinking at the pool bar and drank exquisite wines in the evening. I knew what Sardinia felt like with the booze.

Unlike last year though, I was going in dry and instead of spending all my time in one location, I was heading to four. While that was exciting, it was also stressful, and stress, as we know, is a great ally when it comes to giving in to temptation.

My mum was in Sardinia for a few days so I first headed to stay with her at a beautiful house her friends were renting in Porto Rafael. As soon as I landed in Olbia, I was instructed to meet them at the hotspot Phi Beach for a late dinner.

After dumping my obnoxiously large luggage in our friend’s car, we weaved ourselves through the bodies of people at the venue—most of whom stood swaying with drinks in their hands. I walked down a stone path where big black bins, filled to the brim with champagnes fitted with sparklers, lined the grass next to it. My family friend noted the eye-watering price tags of these bottles.

We ascended the stairs to the top part of the restaurant where everyone was already seated and sipping white wine. In the Sardinian heat, the glasses formed water droplets on the outside, reacting to the humidity. I politely declined alcohol and opted for a ginger beer.

It was hard watching everyone drink, I absolutely wanted to take part. But by publicly announcing a break from alcohol, it was as if I locked a reality into place. It’s simply the way it is.

Usually, I don’t touch bread or sodas, but in this state of finding a new common ground in social settings, I felt my fingers grab the olive oil, pour it onto a plate, and dust it with salt before dunking fluffy white bread into it.

The following day, lunch was at a low-key surfer bar where the ladies shared wine from champagne glasses (I guess surfer bars have different rules). Dinner that night was a gorgeous homemade spaghetti vongole that the table inhaled. I had to steal myself away at one point; I get overwhelmed in big groups and without alcohol to dull my senses, the experience was more acute. I was also repeatedly asked if I wanted alcohol and, while the temptation wasn’t all-consuming, you do get tired of having to consistently say “no”.

It was an innocent enough question from people unaware about my sobriety stint, but I could feel my brain having to flex.

My mother was a good support, kindly declining for me at times, letting others know I wasn’t drinking.

The next and last day during lunch, rosé was poured. After lunch, it was time for us all to head off and I felt relieved knowing I would have one night on my own and get a mini break to compose myself for the next leg of the holiday.

Sardinia Part 2 - The Most Expensive Mocktails of My Life, Crodino, Crodino…and more Crodino

It’s very rare you’ll find me buying a soda, and for me, mocktails very much classify into the same category of overly sugary drinks.

With my PCOS I have to be really wary of the amount of sugar I intake. Safe to say, this holiday and the week leading up to it, I did nothing good for my PCOS as I graduated over to mocktails and had my fair share of dessert. But this was a transition phase, so I’m not hitting myself over the head for not having had a stellar diet while navigating a new normal, especially in a holiday setting.

I had a solo night before my friends arrived where I stayed at Grand Hotel Smeraldo—a cute, quintessentially Sardinian hotel. I lounged on their beach for many hours, engrossed in my book, before heading down to the bay for dinner.

When you don’t drink, you become aware of how prevalent alcohol is. It’s everywhere. I surveyed the crowds doing what I would usually do: grab a pre and post-dinner drink, enjoy multiple glasses of wine with their meal, clink glasses and take in the beautiful view as the wine haze sets in.

I ordered two Crodinos.

They serve it in a big tumbler with a large ice cube so it feels like you’re having a strong cocktail, but the only buzz you’re getting is a sugar rush.

With my onslaught of mocktails, Sanbitter and Crodinos, I started to realise that I don’t particularly enjoy the sugar rush that comes with it…or the empty calories…I know, I know—alcohol is also empty calories, but red wine tastes so good I made exceptions (frequently).

This also got me thinking about how we often encourage people who aren’t drinking alcohol to have a fancy-looking mocktail because it feels more festive than just having water, but my experience on this holiday tells me I might not be so ready to dive into the mocktail list for every social outing just for the sake of party optics.

My friends arrived the next day. I’d been honest with them that I wouldn’t be drinking and neither of them ever pressured me to have a glass or asked if I wanted alcohol. This really helped.

Our first dinner was at La Terrazze at Rituals. It’s probably the most stunning restaurant I’ve ever been to.

With a minimum spend, I ordered four of their steeply priced EUR 25 mocktails. Worth it? Not really. They tasted good, but for some reason, when no alcohol is involved I find most mocktail prices absurd.

The second night was at the even pricier restaurant Novikov in luxurious Porto Cervo.

On my trip there last year, I had dinner at Zuma and on my last night at Quattro Pasi al Pescatore, so I was aware of how hefty the bills get in this tiny port.

I shouldn’t have been surprised by Novikov’s mocktail prices but my eyeballs nearly rolled out of my skull when I saw they charged EUR 30 for a mocktail and EUR 15 for a soda. Even if you can afford it, there are just some prices that I feel can’t be justified.

I gently closed the drinks menu and said to the waiter “I’ll just have water”. I’d already found La Terrazze’s mocktail price ridiculous, but with it being the first night with the girls I wanted to indulge. The extra 5 euros at Novikov felt like daylight robbery.

The hamachi-yuzu sushi roll was out of this world though and I thoroughly enjoyed the dinner and the service was excellent too.

All of our wallets were thankful when the trip continued to the more affordable Santa Theresa Gallura.

This cute little coastal town won over my heart with its breathtaking cliffs and crystal clear water.

Like the bay on my solo evening, the town was pulsating with life. Busy restaurants and bars everywhere with holiday goers slinging back drinks.

On our first night there, we stayed out until nearly 3AM. There wasn’t really a place to dance (not that I like dancing)—it was mostly just a few small bars with outdoor seating that operated until 3AM. One of them had a female DJ playing a set outside. She was pretty cool and few patrons danced along. Interestingly it was a diverse group with the eldest probably being in her late 60s. They all danced interpretively to the beats the DJ was spinning.

While my friends got more cocktails, I stuck to water, having met my sugary limit with my sodas. I’d been out until 3AM the week before in Zurich, so I knew I could do this while still having fun without alcohol.

Strangely, I didn’t feel left out not drinking. At no point did I have an overwhelming sensation of temptation. I also quite enjoyed that my friends indulged in lunch drinks and savoured the wine at dinner. I would have felt awful if they’d decided not to drink just because of me and as much as I’m starting to unpack the cultural norms around alcohol, I admittedly do still find wine festive. Kill me.

Vienna: The Last Holiday Hurdle

A veggie curry in front of temptation.

After Sardinia, my next stop was Vienna. I had a layover in Munich where I grabbed lunch. They only had seating at the bar and I was propped right in front of their big champagne bucket as I tucked into my vegetarian curry. Just another moment to strengthen my sobriety muscles I told myself as the rest of the people around me ordered beers and wines.

I arrived late in the afternoon at the hotel where my dad met me at the entrance. “We’re all at the bar” he said, “shall I order you a glass of wine?”.

I know my dad didn’t mean anything by it, likely forgetting about my sobriety stint, but it’s those moments where you’re directly asked if you want wine that you feel particularly tested. I reminded him I’m sober at the moment.

Like my mum, my dad was a good support for the rest of the trip in Vienna, at times informing waiters I wasn’t drinking.

Having people around you who honour your decision, empowers you. It’s also made me reflect on what a terrible friend I’ve been in my early 20s where I would egg people on to drink or label them as boring for not taking part. If you’re reading this and I ever subjected you to such comments, I’m deeply sorry. I’m learning now (a lot to unpack in another post).

My father is known for picking excellent restaurants and wine. On our first night, he picked one of my favourite wines (Pintia) and a French Bordeaux. The whole table decided to blind taste them and a lively discussion about the notes and tannins of the wines ensued.

One thing is tolerating watching everyone have wine poured into their glasses and noticing the dark, rich colour that I love coat the inside of the glass, another is to tolerate hearing six people marvel at length about the taste.

It was annoying.

Like on the first part of Sardinia, I was in a large group and alcohol would usually be my way of easing into the social setting, especially when I don’t really know the people. But it felt good operating from a clear mind, being present, noticing, and not letting alcohol cloud my interaction.

Healing>Harming

Over the last few months where I drank alcohol, I became more and more aware of how quickly it was physically impacting me: the nearly instant brain fog, the jitters in my body, terrible sleep, anxiety and agitation, all compounded by burnout. As I sat sipping wine, it felt like I was directly pumping poison into my body.

When you start thinking about alcohol and your diet in terms of its impact on your mental and physical health, you’re thinking in different lanes and suddenly you can’t really make exceptions so easily.

I knew I was slowing my healing process massively by drinking and that I was creating my own biggest stumbling block in reaching various health goals due to my frequency of drinking. It was like the discipline I’d had (and enjoyed) throughout the week amounted to little in the weekend thanks to overconsumption of wine which was often followed by late night snacking.

While I’ve noticed a clearer mind since dropping the alcohol, there’s been no massive physical change in me as my holiday consisted of a lot of processed sugar in the form of sodas, mocktails and dessert. Nor was there my frequency at the gym, the dinners were all late impacting digestion, and I often didn’t clock enough sleep.

As I write this, I’ve had my first day back in Zurich and I can feel I’m still on the wobble board. I just need to land and get back into my usual routine. Once I’ve found my footing, I’m excited to see what physical changes could happen. The uptick in sugar this trip was a reminder that I have to take care of my PCOS, so yo-yoing into sugar overload won’t do anything to move my health needle. And I very much need it to move forward.

I didn’t expect to, but I’m enjoying sobriety.

It’s also as if I hadn’t felt the full extent of my burnout before ditching alcohol because I’ve been continuously masking it with too much wine. Now without any alcohol in my system, I can actually feel how exhausted my body is and how desperate it is for deep rest.

My sleep has also been deeper. Save for when I reversed the car rental in Sardinia into a tree that resulted in about 3 hours of sleep because I was riddled with anxiety—I slept pretty deeply.

Abstaining from alcohol while in holiday mode felt like my biggest challenge yet. To keep my word to myself feels like a massive accomplishment and if I can get through this, then I’ll no doubt make it to the end of the 3 months without issues.

#SoberHoliday #sobrietydiary #lifestylechange #mentalhealth #sobriety