• Palisade, Colorado, has become one of my favorite towns after moving to Denver four years ago.
• It's home to striking nature and more than 30 wineries.
• I've visited a handful of times, and still haven't explored all the town has to offer.

I thought I'd have to head to California's Napa Valley for wine and cross the Utah state border for canyons. For peaches, I assumed I'd have to make my way South to somewhere like Georgia.

Then, I discovered Palisade, Colorado. The small town four hours west of Denver has become one of my favorite Colorado towns after living in the state for four years.

While it has all the outdoor activities I love — hiking, camping, biking, and rafting — it also stands out for its wineries, vineyards, and farms.

Palisade is home to something I don't find everywhere in Colorado — vineyards

Most of my weekends in Colorado are spent camping. I'll head west from my home in Denver, searching for mountains, dispersed campsites, and glorious hikes.

Thankfully, the state is full of options. While living in Colorado, I've explored dozens of mountain towns, visited new national parks, and stumbled upon historic sites like former mining towns.

Being in the mountains never gets old, but finding new activities keeps camping trips from feeling repetitive.

So, when I crave an experience other than shopping on Main Street and hiking up a mountain, I head to Palisade for wine.

The small Colorado town is known as the state's wine country. It's home to over 30 wineries, and the region's desert climate creates an ideal environment for growing grapes.

When it comes to the wine itself, Palisade doesn't specialize in just one variety. Instead, you'll find everything from rosé to cabernet franc and riesling.

I've visited the town a few times, and my favorite way to explore is on a bike. Some lodges, campsites, and businesses offer daily bike rentals, which means I can check off a handful of wineries in a day. Other tour operators have shuttles, horse-drawn carriages, and limos that take visitors wine hopping across the town.

Regardless of how you get to each winery, most have breathtaking views of grape vines with Colorado's Grand Mesa, the largest flat-top mountain, as the backdrop. It's a view that's hard to beat.

Beyond wineries, Palisade has accessible nature

Sure, wine is the town's main appeal, but that just scratches the surface of how I spend a weekend in Palisade.

Surrounding the small town is stunning nature. The area is more arid than the nearby Rocky Mountains, which means the terrain includes canyon systems, plateaus, and rusty red stone. In some hiking areas, you'll find wild horses, and in others, you'll find canyons overlooking the Colorado River.

During hot summer months, paddleboarding and rafting are popular activities.

There's also plenty of camping. While there are a couple of RV resorts and state parks with amenity-filled campsites, the region also has primitive camping around the Grand Mesa.

Palisade is a hidden gem

While plenty of people in Colorado have heard of Palisade, when I step outside my Denver bubble, I've learned it's a hidden gem — one I'm still exploring since I haven't discovered all the town has to offer.

While I've stopped by small farm stands to pick up fresh fruit and jams, I haven't picked peaches yet. Palisade is one of Colorado's top peach producers, and during harvest seasons, nearby farms will welcome visitors to their orchards for peach picking.

I'm also itching to return for the town's annual bluegrass festival with national artists and local musicians.

There are also restaurants, breweries, distilleries, and vineyards I've eyed from past trips.

So, while there are plenty of small Colorado towns I've yet to visit, I'm always willing to return to Palisade and shake up the traditional weekend camping trip.

• I spent two nights at the Four Seasons Tamarindo, a luxury resort south of Mexico's Puerto Vallarta.
• It was my first time staying at a Four Seasons resort.
• I was surprised by a complimentary cooking class and how the property caters to families.

"This is our 'White Lotus' moment," I whispered to my travel partner as the gates to the Four Seasons Tamarindo opened.

For the next two nights, we searched for our version of Victoria Ratliff and Rick Hatchett as we explored the enormous property on Mexico's Pacific Coast.

By the end of the trip, we feared we were becoming characters ourselves as daily fresh-pressed juices became the expectation, and golf cart rides to our suite were the norm.

I guess that's what happens when you spend too long at a luxury resort, and the Four Seasons Tamarindo in Mexico made it easy to slip into that role.

I've been lucky enough to stay at boutique luxury properties around the world, but I'd yet to cross a Four Seasons off my list.

That changed on a recent trip to Costalegre, Mexico, where I experienced the brand firsthand in a cliffside one-bedroom suite with an infinity pool. The resort's entry-level room starts at about $1,000 a night, and a cliffside suite typically ranges between $1,500 and $3,800, depending on the view and time of year. Business Insider received a media rate for the stay.

During my two-night stay, I gained a better understanding of how Four Seasons earned its reputation for luxury.

I assumed the location would be impressive, yet I was still blown away.

With 129 properties worldwide, a Four Seasons stay can feature a private island in the Maldives or a luxury safari in the Serengeti.

Impressive locations go hand and hand with the brand, so I figured the Tamarindo property would be beautiful — especially considering where the property is situated.

The Four Seasons Tamarindo is a hidden gem on Mexico's Pacific Coast and is not easy to reach. The resort is about four hours south of Puerto Vallarta and one and a half hours northwest of Manzanillo.

When guests arrive, it all starts with a dramatic entrance. I still had a 15-minute drive from the entrance gate to the resort. I navigated winding roads surrounded by thick jungle. There wasn't water in sight as I passed rows of agave and spotted birds singing from nearby trees.

Then, the property came into view. An open-air lobby featured infinity pools that stretched out to a rocky coastline.

For the next two days, I discovered striking ocean views at practically every part of the resort, from the golf course to the on-site restaurants.

It was clear that the location was a highlight of the property.

A calendar of complimentary activities was a welcome surprise.

It was tempting to jam-pack my day with activities at the Four Seasons. I eyed a morning snorkeling excursion and debated if I could make it back in time for a farm tour. Later in the afternoon, I planned to join a workshop on fermented drinks. The next day, my schedule included a cooking class.

The best part was that all these events were complimentary. While the luxury resort comes with luxury prices, it was refreshing to know that I could fill my day with experiences that wouldn't add to my travel budget.

That seems to be a common theme across a handful of other Four Seasons properties. Four Seasons Resort Hualalai offers ukulele lessons, lei-making classes, and Hawaiian quilting. At Four Seasons Resort and Residences Napa Valley, guests can join vineyard yoga sessions and cocktail-making classes.

Everything is on the property, so you never have to leave.

Alba Garcia, the director of rooms at the Four Seasons Tamarindo, and Barbara Cervantes, the property's marketing manager, told me that the resort is designed to offer an authentic Mexican experience without needing to leave the resort.

There are Mexican menus created by award-winning chefs, activities diving into traditional drinks like tepache, a fermented drink made from pineapples, and activities that explore the surrounding nature.

While I'd still argue that an afternoon trip to the seaside town of Barra de Navidad — 40 minutes away— is worth the trek, the Four Seasons made it hard to leave, offering every experience I could have wanted right on the property.

Award-winning chefs behind hotel menus proved to be some of the best bites I had during my trip.

I would typically opt to leave a resort and head into town for local foods, but the Four Seasons' menus surprised me.

Some of the best bites I had during my weeklong trip were at the property. Morning pastries came from the well-known Rosetta restaurant in Mexico City, and the tacos from the casual Nacho restaurant were incredible. I tried foods I'd never seen, like a tuna chorizo, and stuffed myself at the expansive breakfast buffet.

While the property felt ideal for couples, it also had families in mind.

A place with striking infinity pools, pastel sunsets, and private rooms screams romance.

Both Garcia and Cervantes agreed that the ideal vacationer for Four Seasons Tamarindo is likely a couple, but I was surprised by how much thought had also gone into creating an experience for families.

One of the three infinity pools is dedicated to families with giant pool floaties. There's also a daily arts and crafts session and an exclusive event for teens each evening.

Regardless of age, it seemed hard not to enjoy a day at the resort.

The welcoming staff was a highlight as well.

Alan Reyes pulled over on his golf cart to show me a calabash tree, which grows fruit used for maraca instruments. Twenty minutes later, we were tasting honey from Melipona stingless bees.

As someone who loves the outdoors, it was thrilling to have resort staff eager to answer my pesky questions about the plants and animals living and growing on the 3,000-acre property.

Hours later, it was shocking to watch Garcia share so much joy behind her job as rooms director.

When my rental car's tire was flat, a crowd of workers arrived with an air compressor to get me back on the road.

While I expect hotel staff to be kind and welcoming at a luxury resort, I appreciated how the employees at the Four Seasons went beyond expectations.

• After a dayslong road trip, I was sick of driving, so I hopped on the Grand Canyon Railway.
• The train departs from Williams, Arizona, and drops travelers off at the park's South Rim.
• The ride took twice as long as driving, but it was a new way to explore a national park. 

By the time I reached Williams, Arizona, my hands felt permanently bound to my van's steering wheel. My back ached, making me feel decades older than I actually am, and my legs cramped from being in the same position for hours.

It was only day four of my 13-day road trip. I had covered 800 miles and spent far too long in my rented Ram ProMaster van.

Simply put, I needed a break from driving.

Thankfully, that's why I was in Williams in the first place. The small Arizona town is home to the Grand Canyon Railway.

Instead of driving another two hours round-trip to the national park, I decided to let someone else do the driving and hopped on the train.

A few days before arriving in Arizona, I bought my train ticket for about $80.

The Grand Canyon Railway has six different class options. The bottom-tier class is the Pullman class, where round-trip tickets cost $70. The highest tiers are the luxury parlor and luxury dome, where tickets cost $240. These prices do not include a $35 park entry fee.

When picking my train class, I was just happy to be on a train. I opted for the second-tier coach ticket on the way to the Grand Canyon and a Pullman ticket on the way home. Besides design, the main difference I spotted between the two classes was that the coach class offers air conditioning, while the Pullman car does not.

Altogether, I paid $82 for the ride in October 2023.

The adventure would be an all-day affair. The train leaves at 9:30 a.m., and visitors arrive back in Williams at around 5:45 p.m.

The train ride takes about two hours and 15 minutes, compared to an hour by car.

Passengers have about 3 ½ hours to explore the South Rim of Grand Canyon National Park.

I arrived at the station's ticketing office around 8:30 a.m. to pick up my printed tickets and grab a coffee.

The train depot in Williams was built in 1910.

Then, I headed to a little arena for a performance. The experience includes more than just transportation. Musicians and actors are on board, creating an Old West feel throughout the ride.

A group of cowboy actors lined an Old West-style set and acted out a cliché shootout.

Sure, it was a little gimmicky, but after traveling along Route 66 and exploring America's old Art Deco movement, I learned to embrace it.

After the show, I found my coach car and boarded the train. At 9:30 a.m., we were off to the Grand Canyon.

The coach car was only about half full, so all the passengers could grab a window seat to admire the ponderosa pine forests and grasslands we were traveling through.

During the two-hour ride, we listened to our passenger attendant share history and insights into the railway and the national park.

The ride is 65 miles and travels through a range of landscapes.

Along the ride, I learned about the Indigenous peoples who call the region home, and our train attendant dove into the railway's history.

Between stories, the passengers spotted wildlife in the distance.

Within the first 10 minutes of the journey, someone from our train car spotted a bald eagle. Throughout the rest of the trip, we also saw cattle, horses, and pronghorns.

About an hour into the ride, I headed to the train café, which sold chips, candy, sodas, beer, and other snacks.

I grabbed some pretzels and peanut M&M's for the rest of the ride.

As we got closer to our destination, I waited for the massive valleys, red rocks, and striking landscapes to come into view. Instead, all I saw was grassland and forest.

Little did I know that you can't see any part of the Grand Canyon from the train. Instead, after disembarking, the canyon is a short walk away.

Once we arrived, I had about three hours to explore the national park. Initially, I feared it wouldn't be nearly enough time.

I've spent entire days wandering through Arches National Park and Zion National Park.

But an afternoon was ideal for a first look at the Grand Canyon's South Rim.

While I could've easily spent days in the park, an afternoon offered an ideal taste of its offerings.

I spent about an hour walking a segment of the Rim Trail, a paved path that gives visitors a view into the canyon. I also wandered through the visitor center, gift shop, and restaurants.

Around 3 p.m., I headed back to the train. This time, I was in a Pullman car.

Though it was the lower class, I enjoyed the Pullman car a bit more. The seats were a tad more comfortable, and the entire space felt a bit more historic. Plus, I was traveling in the fall, so the air conditioning in coach class was an unnecessary perk. (I wasn't even sure it was on.) If it had been the height of Arizona's summer, I would have picked coach.

After settling into the emerald-green train car, we left promptly at 3:30 p.m.

The afternoon ride was filled with more music and another cowboy skit.

Both a violinist and a guitarist played for passengers during the ride.

The day on the train was a fun way to explore the Grand Canyon, and, thankfully, I never had to get in the driver's seat.

We arrived back in Williams and ended the day with a stunning sunset.

I returned from the daylong adventure energized and no longer dreading the drive ahead.

• The Kinloch Wilderness Retreat sits on the edge of Lake Wakatipu in New Zealand.
• The retreat has three rentable tiny homes with stunning views of New Zealand scenery.
• I spent a night in one of the tiny homes. It was the most magical place I've ever slept.

New Zealand is the land of hobbits and wizards, folklore and fairies, and unspoiled nature.

In the summer of 2022, I experienced the country's whimsical land firsthand.

I spent nights in five-star hotels and tiny homes with porta-potties.

The most magical place I stayed, though, was a tiny house outside Queenstown, New Zealand.

The tiny house in question is part of the Kinloch Wilderness Retreat.

Located on the shores of Lake Wakatipu, the property has a café, restaurant, two tiny homes, a lodge, a lake house, and basic rooms for travelers.

With accommodations ranging in size and price, I booked one of the tiny houses for about $195 a night.

For June 2025, a night in the tiny house costs $386 for two people.

Most travelers come to the retreat from Queenstown, which is about an hour's drive along the scenic Glenorchy-Queenstown road.

I headed to the lodge and navigated twisting roads, sandwiched between Lake Wakatipu and the mountains.

Finally, I approached a scattering of buildings. It was my home for the night, the Kinloch Wilderness Retreat.

Before any human could greet me, I was welcomed by the owners' two dogs.

Then, one of Kinloch's owners welcomed me to the retreat, checked me in, and ushered me to my tiny home.

The first thing I noticed was how warm the tiny home felt, looked, and smelled.

An air-control system kept it heated in the winter, and since nearly every element of the room was built from wood, it glowed with an earthy smell.

In one area of the small space, an enormous, cozy bed with floor-to-ceiling views out onto Lake Wakatipu sat.

At the front of the window was a cushioned bench with hidden storage tucked underneath.

Next to the bed was a living area with enough room for a small L-shaped couch and nesting coffee tables.

Toward the back of the tiny home was the bathroom. While small, it had luxe amenities like a heated towel rack and rainfall showerhead.

A curtain for the front window doubled as my TV screen, and with the push of a button, I could drop it down or raise it up.

The real treat of the tiny house sat outside, where the landscape around me was one of the most spectacular things I've seen.

Outside was a hot tub for guests' use as well.

The original lodge, built in 1868 for nearby timber workers and tourists, still stands on the property.

Owners Toni and John Glover purchased the property in 2000. In 2016, they commissioned two tiny homes, which were inspired by the surrounding views

As I headed back inside, my dinner arrived. It was a large salad with greens from the garden next door, crispy chickpeas, cauliflower, shallots, and dressing.

After dinner, I spent the night admiring stars from the hot tub.

The next morning, I woke up to two pups waiting at my front door.

I had breakfast, packed my bag, and dreaded saying goodbye to this magical place.

I debated what made it so special, and it was clear that it was the thought that went into the entire experience.

From eating garden-sourced greens to having a warm towel after soaking in the hot tub, every detail of my stay was meticulously considered. And that was magical.

• Traveling to East Africa involved a 13-hour Ethiopian Airlines flight and a 16-hour Qatar Airways ride.
• For both of these long-haul flights in economy, I sat in window seats at the back of the plane.
• Ultimately, small differences like seat width are why I'd book Qatar again.

The small details make the biggest difference on a long-haul flight in economy.

It might be one extra inch of seat space or snack service between meals. It could be a clean bathroom or a complimentary eye mask.

Those differences were a game changer for me on the longest flights of my life. I was heading to East Africa. To get there, I took a 13-hour flight on Ethiopian Airlines. Getting home involved a 16-hour flight on Qatar Airways.

Small details are why I'm booking Qatar again in the future.

I embarked on the longest journey of my life, heading to Tanzania from Denver on Ethiopian Airlines.

My 33-hour travel day began at Denver International Airport. By the end of it, I would be in Zanzibar, Tanzania.

Getting there involved a three-and-a-half-hour flight to Washington, DC; a 13-hour flight between DC and Addis Ababa, Ethiopia; a three-hour flight from Ethiopia to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania; and a final flight to Zanzibar.

My ticket on Ethiopian Airlines cost $975, and I sat in economy for every leg of the long-haul journey.

Naturally, the flight I dreaded the most was the longest: 13 hours, cramped next to strangers.

For the 13-hour flight, I boarded an Airbus A350-900 aircraft, which initially felt a bit outdated.

While Ethiopian operates a range of aircraft for long-haul flights, I was on an Airbus A350-900XWB.

I don't think I've ever boarded a flight so bright. While most airlines stick to navy blue, black, and dark colors for seats, Ethiopian Airlines embraced color with an unexpected green.

While it wouldn't have been my choice, it didn't impact the flight, though I did think it gave the cabin an outdated look.

The plane itself had 30 lie-flat business-class seats and 313 economy seats. The economy cabin had three rows of three seats, with two bathrooms in the middle and two in the back.

After my boarding group was called, I headed to the back of the plane and cozied into my window seat.

My window seat felt more spacious than what I've experienced on short-haul flights.

I rarely take a 13-hour flight. Instead, I'm more familiar with shorter flights, where economy seats tend to be smaller.

For this aircraft, my seat was 18 inches wide with a 32-inch seat pitch. The seats could also recline.

While it was only a few more inches than seats I've sat in for short-haul flights, I did notice the difference. My seat felt roomier, and my legs could stretch a bit farther.

I had a screen with media options and a USB port to charge my phone.

As for amenities at the seat, I was greeted with a standard airplane pillow and blanket.

Flight attendants came around with headphones, and in front of me was a touchscreen entertainment system with a USB port for charging.

The airline had plenty of media options, from TV shows to music and movies. While I thought it was missing major US blockbusters, I loved eyeing the international movie choices. I could also buy WiFi for $25.

I was served dinner and breakfast during the flight.

A few hours after taking off, flight attendants arrived with dinner.

I was surprised when there wasn't an entrée option. Instead, I was handed a tray with rice, carrots, chicken curry, bread, a grain salad, and dessert. It was delicious.

After dinner, I fell asleep and believe I missed a sandwich snack during the nighttime service.

Toward the end of the flight, flight attendants arrived with breakfast. This time, I was served a tray with mushrooms, baked beans, eggs, and a hash brown.

Overall, I was shocked by how much I enjoyed the meal. Airline food tends to be a hit or miss, and Ethiopian Airlines' food was a hit by my standards.

The bathrooms seemed to be standard compared to most airlines.

Whether in business class or economy on a long-haul or short-haul flight, I've never noticed drastic differences in airplane bathrooms.

The Ethiopian Airlines bathroom felt typical. It had a small changing table, a toilet, a sink, and tissues.

Three weeks later, I was flying home on an even longer flight with Qatar Airways.

To get home, I left Entebbe, Uganda, and flew five and a half hours to Doha, Qatar. From there, I had a 16-hour flight to Dallas before my final two-hour flight home.

This flight, also in economy, cost $900.

The 16-hour, long-haul journey was on a Boeing 777-200LR.

Qatar uses four aircraft for flights to and from the US. I was on a Boeing 777-200LR for this flight.

This plane was a bit smaller than my Ethiopian Airlines flight. There were 42 business-class seats and 217 economy seats, with two rows of three seats and a middle row of four. Passengers had access to five bathrooms, an extra one compared to Ethiopian.

The decor felt standard, with dark-gray seats and red accents.

I also sat at a window seat in the back of the plane.

The seat was nearly one inch wider than Ethiopian, at 18.9 inches, and had an inch bigger pitch at 33 inches with reclining capabilities.

I'm always surprised at how much a single inch can make a difference, but for a 16-hour flight, it helped. I could stretch out my legs and didn't constantly feel like my knees were pressed against the seat in front of me.

However, I didn't like that there wasn't a barrier between the leg area of my row's middle and the window seats. My seatmate could easily encroach on my personal space.

The entertainment system felt outdated.

A typical airplane pillow, blanket, and headphones were waiting for me in my seat. I was also surprised to see a small complimentary toiletry kit — an amenity I've only received in business class. The paper pouch held an eye mask, earplugs, a toothbrush, and socks.

I found an outlet below my seat, and near the screen was a USB port to charge my phone.

The entertainment system felt a touch outdated with a retro remote control. However, there were plenty of movies and shows to choose from, and WiFi cost $15 with an option to upgrade to high speed for $20.

As for food, this is where I made an error. I mistakenly marked raw vegetarian instead of vegetarian as my meal preference.

On trips home, I typically opt for a vegetarian meal. It's a way for me to reset and, ideally, eat something a bit healthier after a trip filled with dining out.

I did that for my Qatar flight, but instead of marking vegetarian, I accidentally marked raw vegetarian.

During the flight, I was served three trays of raw vegetables. Thankfully, I had enough snacks to last me the whole flight.

Beyond that, Qatar had pros and cons to its food service.

The meals felt slightly elevated with metal cutlery, and I received more food during this long-haul flight. In addition to two meals, passengers were given a spinach-and-feta hot pocket, plus chocolate and water at the end of the flight.

The con was that drink service was much more limited. I wasn't offered complimentary wine, beer, or soda, and my free options were limited to juice, tea, coffee, and water.

The bathroom felt practically identical to the one on my Ethiopian Airlines flight.

Again, there was not much to say about the airplane bathroom. There was a room spray and scented soap, which I appreciated.

If the prices were similar, I'd book Qatar Airways again.

I'm eager to fly Qatar Airways at least one more time to experience a full meal service. Even without factoring in food, the bigger seat and complimentary toiletries made for a better overall experience.

Qatar Airways and Ethiopian Airlines didn't respond to requests for comment.

• I visited a resort in Belize, where I challenged my preconceptions about all-inclusive stays.
• I thought all-inclusive resorts didn't foster experiences unique to a destination. 
• Thatch Caye's bungalows, communal dining, and activities proved me wrong.

With a piña colada in hand, my friend and I crawled onto a hammock hanging above Belize's strikingly clear waters.

Two couples were nearby as we watched the vibrant orange sun sink below the horizon. It was one of those sunsets you're convinced you only see on vacation in a destination like Belize.

In less than an hour, the couples around us, along with about 20 other guests, would sit together for a communal dinner of lobster tails, rice and beans, and salad.

It was peaceful, quiet, and far from anything I envisioned when it came to staying at an all-inclusive resort.

Well, besides the piña coladas.

Before arriving at Thatch Caye Resort, I thought all-inclusive resorts were synonymous with long lines of sunburned tourists snaking to metal trays overflowing with shrimp skewers. I pictured waiting for bottom-shelf tropical cocktails, and I definitely thought the all-inclusive experience had to include chlorinated pools and a battle over the last open lounge chair.

In February 2024, those stereotypes were challenged with a stay at Thatch Caye, an all-inclusive resort off the coast of Dangriga, Belize.

I left sunburned and with a new favorite way to vacation.

All-inclusive resorts never appealed to me

For years, I've listened to friends share their all-inclusive experiences. I heard stories about hopping between restaurants with bellies full of food and spending afternoons at a swim-up bar.

To a degree, I get the appeal.

Everything you could need is in one location — food, drinks, entertainment, activities, spas, and a place to sleep. There's no stress over logistics, no need to plan how you'll fill your day, and no worries about budgeting once you've arrived.

But as I listened to story after story, the experiences felt identical. I had no clue whether my friends had traveled to Jamaica, Mexico, or the Dominican Republic. Instead, I heard about the morning trip from their rooms to the breakfast buffets and the beaches.

My friends weren't the only ones. In places like Cancún, Mexico, a hot spot for all-inclusive resorts near one of the world's seven wonders, only half the guests venture beyond the comforts of their lodgings, the Ministry of Quintana Roo Tourism reported in 2023.

As experts focused on sustainability and travel told me, staying at a property owned by a major corporation isn't the most eco-friendly way to travel. If a traveler never leaves their resort, locals don't receive benefits from tourism.

"Many large resorts are owned by foreign multinational companies — and often most of your holiday cash goes to them and leaves the destination," Justin Francis, cofounder and CEO of Responsible Travel, said. "Jobs available to locals can be limited to entry-level and seasonal. They can take a lot out of local communities — cutting access to beaches and wild spaces, generating more waste and pollution, consuming precious resources — while giving very little back."

I travel to explore natural landmarks, wander through museums, and try local cuisines, and I do my best to support the locals living in the destination I'm visiting.

While I can't blame someone seeking relaxation and booking an all-inclusive stay, I ruled them out for a long time.

Then, I came across a private island resort in Belize

At the end of last year, my friend Katie and I started planning a scuba diving trip.

We narrowed down our destination to Belize, and as I eyed different hotels, resorts, and properties across the hundreds of islands, Thatch Caye caught my eye.

Several overwater bungalows sit on a private island off the coast of Dangriga, Belize.

The pictures left me convinced it was an experience I craved, until I noticed those two words I'd always avoided: all-inclusive.

After learning more about a resort, I realized that if I could ever get behind an all-inclusive, this was the one.

A major corporation doesn't own Thatch Caye, and with a maximum of 30 guests at a time, there wouldn't be crowds. Some all-inclusive resorts welcome hundreds of guests at a time. The Sandals Ochi Beach Resort in Jamaica, for instance, has 529 rooms, 16 restaurants, and 105 pools.

Instead, Thatch Caye's accommodations weren't expansive hotel rooms but thatched-roof overwater bungalows. Dinner wasn't served at a dozen different restaurants; instead, there was a communal table and a single buffet each evening.

When it came to activities, the resort fostered the experiences that lured me to the country in the first place.

While the island resort was tiny, it had enough room for its own dive shop, offering excursions to the world's second-largest barrier reef at additional costs. After a dive, we could grab the resort's complimentary paddleboards and snorkeling gear to continue our water explorations.

Plus, free drinks throughout our stay wouldn't hurt.

Between the picture-perfect accommodations and excursions, I was willing to challenge thoughts on all-inclusive resorts.

We booked two nights at Thatch Caye. After fees and taxes, a night in a premier overwater bungalow at Thatch Caye costs about $950 for two people. As far as all-inclusive resorts go, this was on the higher end. An affordable stay can cost as little as $110 a night. Meanwhile, expensive all-inclusive resorts can charge $3,000-plus for a single night's stay. Business Insider received a media rate for the stay at Thatch Caye.

Not every all-inclusive is built the same

A boat picked us up near the Dangriga Airport, where we sped across the ocean for 25 minutes before reaching the resort.

The palm-frond roofs came into view, and before we could reach the resort, one of the island's dogs greeted us with friendly barks. We stepped off the boat and into an entire resort cast in golden hour.

As the island's staff welcomed us to Thatch Caye, one worker passed out cool towels soaked in eucalyptus. Another handed us watermelon juice and cherry-soaked rum.

What I saw was far from what I visualized when I heard the word resort. The island was filled with nature — not towering buildings, loud music, or buffet lines.

Instead, there was one main lounge, an overwater pavilion for relaxing, and a beach. We were told to meet at the outdoor dinner table at 7 p.m.

Sure, Thatch Caye missed some elements of many all-inclusive resorts. There weren't multiple dining options to choose from, food wasn't served 24/7, and there wasn't a gym or on-site waterpark to explore.

But I did discover why people pick all-inclusive resorts. We booked scuba diving in advance, so the logistics of our trip were set by the time we reached the island. Neither of us needed to think twice about our budget before ordering a piña colada or mojito. I'll confess that I happily devoured three lobster tails during the first night's buffet.

With a small island feel, I connected with guests and the staff. Plus, the excursions immersed me in Belize's cherished underwater landscapes.

For me, it was the ideal balance of adventure and relaxation. As I left the island, I thought back to what many sustainability travel experts said, and I felt a little better about picking Thatch Caye.

Thatch Caye reduces food waste by offering set meal times instead of a never-ending buffet. The resort composts what guests don't consume. Additionally, the island uses solar power and catches rainwater for its showers and sinks.

I left Thatch Caye with a new understanding of what an all-inclusive can entail. And while I still plan to steer clear of many of the major all-inclusive resorts, I'll no longer shudder when I see those two little words.

• Splurging on a five-star hotel stay is typically saved for special occasions.
• I've, fortunately, slept in plenty of luxury hotels where I've watched travelers make mistakes.
• Some people book stays that are too short, while others don't take advantage of the concierge.

From sipping an iced vanilla latte on a private beach to watching snowfall from the comfort of a sauna, I've stayed in luxury, five-star hotels around the world as a travel reporter.

It's a drastic shift from my personal trips and vacations, which tend to involve budget hotels and cheap vacation rentals. When I'm at a lavish hotel, I'm soaking in every minute and every amenity.

From personal experience and conversations with other travelers, I've spotted mistakes that diminish the luxury experience.

A single night is not nearly enough in a five-star hotel.

With a typical 4 p.m. check-in and 11 a.m. check-out, one night in any hotel isn't very long to explore — especially when you're splurging on the accommodation.

I made this mistake while staying at my first five-star hotel, the Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise in Canada's Banff National Park.

My friend and I checked into the glorious property just as the sun was setting. We explored the hotel's dining scene and joined a free s'mores and bonfire event. The next day, we set our alarms early to enjoy why we were at Lake Louise in the first place — the nature.

We didn't have nearly long enough. We were rushing to get up early, hike around the lake, and make it back in time to check out of the lodge. We enjoyed our stay, but it wasn't the relaxing trip we had hoped for.

Since then, I've talked to dozens of other guests who shared similar sentiments.

At a five-star hotel in Sydney, guests told me they couldn't decide how to split time between exploring the city and the hotel's amenities. At a luxe spot on the island of Zanzibar, guests raced around the property to enjoy every detail during a short stay.

While booking a luxury hotel might already be a splurge, finding a place that allows you more than one night helps maximize the entire experience.

Not researching the destination beforehand is another common mistake.

Some five-star hotels are in the heart of a city, offering easy access to museums, shopping, and nightlife.

Other luxury hotels are in the middle of nowhere. A stay here means that your vacation is limited to the resort itself.

I've spoken to travelers who weren't aware of how remote the accommodations were, leaving them frustrated that activities were far away, dining outside the hotel was inaccessible, and entire days had to be spent at the property.

Researching where you're heading is key to making the most of a luxe hotel stay. Whether that's speaking to a hotel representative, a travel agent, or Googling, research will give you a better sense of how you'll be spending your precious vacation days.

Some guests don't take advantage of the hotel's concierge.

A concierge at a five-star hotel is a major perk of sleeping in luxury.

They can secure hard-to-get dining reservations, share lesser-known property amenities, and make personal recommendations for the area you're visiting.

I've watched travelers miss out on restaurant visits because they didn't know the concierge might be able to help. I've also seen people fail to use water kayaks and paddleboards in fear that they cost money — a simple question for the concierge.

The concierge is also there in case an emergency arises. They can provide information on the nearest doctor, call transportation services, and help you find anything you may have forgotten to pack.

They're a resource, so failing to use them is a big mistake.

Similar to not using the concierge, I've watched travelers not take advantage of free amenities.

Since every hotel works differently, knowing what's included and what's not when you arrive is important.

I've visited hotels where the spa is accessible regardless of whether you book a service. Other hotels keep the spa off-limits unless you arrive for a massage or facial.

In casual conversations with guests, I've raved about a visit to a private beach and watched as they were shocked to learn that access to a second beach was included in their stay. I've also highlighted the free minibar — another perk people have said they were unaware of.

The high costs of visiting a five-star hotel tend to include much more than just your hotel room, so take advantage of those perks.

Others fail to explore the hotel's food scene.

Finding an award-winning chef stationed at a luxury hotel shouldn't come as a surprise.

On a recent visit to the Four Seasons Tamarindo, I dined on meals influenced and created by well-known chefs. At Coyul, a restaurant on the property, the menu was created in partnership with Elena Reygadas, who was named the best female chef in the world in 2023 by The World's 50 Best Restaurants. The meal of risotto and soft shell crab was a highlight of a weeklong trip to Costalegre, Mexico.

I'm always shocked when I chat with guests and learn they haven't had a single meal at the hotel. While I'm all for exploring a range of restaurants on a trip, guests might miss out by skipping the hotel's dining scene.

Finally, they overpack for the trip.

I still laugh when I think about packing for my first five-star vacation to a tropical destination.

I sat staring at my suitcase, debating how I could save space. Removing a beach towel was my solution, and thank goodness I did. When I arrived, beach towels were piled high at every corner of the pool.

If you're heading to a luxury spot, there are a handful of things you can skip packing. There's no need for shampoo, conditioner, lotion, or body wash. Robes and slippers are a guarantee. I've always found a hair dryer.

While some of those are expected, I've also watched guests waste precious space packing extra tote bags and umbrellas, which will typically be available at a five-star hotel.

Again, a quick conversation with the hotel can help save precious space in a carry-on.

• Visitors make avoidable mistakes when visiting national parks, a former ranger told Business Insider.
• Tom Haraden spent 37 years protecting visitors and wildlife in nine national parks across the US. 
• From packing water to staying clear of animals, he shares how to avoid the worst mistakes he's seen.

For 37 years, Tom Haraden worked in nine national parks across the US. 

Haraden's self-described "magical" career in the National Park Service started in 1972 as a volunteer in Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming. Since then, he's worked in eight other US national parks.

"I loved every minute," Haraden told Business Insider.

During this time, he spoke to thousands of visitors and saw plenty of mistakes.

During his four-decade career, Haraden said some mistakes were common. Nearly all of them were avoidable.

Haraden's general advice is simple: "Be smart." 

While park rangers are there to support visitors, Haraden said safety is up to the individual. 

"The park service's philosophy on safety is that your safety is your responsibility," he said.

Haraden said the first common mistake is visitors who try to squeeze too much into a single trip. Instead, travel slow.

Haraden said throughout his career, he talked to visitors with overly ambitious itineraries.

They might enter a park with the goal of visiting every viewpoint in a single day. While this is one way to explore, Haraden believes traveling slower gives visitors a chance to soak in the park's natural beauty. 

"I think the biggest mistake I see people make is trying to be too fast," he said. "They go out to a viewpoint at the Grand Canyon and go, 'Been there, done that.'''

He urges visitors to experience a national park instead of checking things off a list. That might mean watching the sunrise, reading a book by a river, or slowing your hiking pace.

"Don't try to do everything," he said. "Enjoy some things to the full depth you can."

Don't expect solitude. If that's the goal, be willing to research and hike farther out.

Haraden said there are plenty of national parks without hordes of people, but it can take time and research to figure out which parks and areas are less crowded.

"Do your homework and stay flexible," he said. "Nowadays, doing your park homework involves knowing what's going to be crowded. If you go to a park like Arches in the middle of summer, it's going to be packed. So go to a place that's less visited, like Canyonlands."

Even then, you're still likely to run into people if you stick to the main viewpoints, Haraden said. The farther you get into the national park, the higher your chance of finding solitude. 

Don't arrive without an itinerary. No matter where you go, research the park and understand what you want to do once you're there.

Beyond looking at how crowded parks are, Haraden suggests researching every park you plan to visit beforehand. This will help you craft an itinerary that meets your wants and needs. 

"Know what you want," he said. "Do you like to hike? If you like the hike, what kind of hikes do you like to do? Do you like flat ones? Do you like vigorous ones?" 

Haraden's best advice for researching national parks is to use the National Park Service's websites. Every national park has a detailed website, which tells visitors about the park, its crowds, and what to expect when visiting. 

While Haraden encourages visitors to have a plan, he also urges them to be flexible.

While Haraden said it's helpful to research and have an itinerary before arriving at a national park, he also advises visitors to be adaptable. 

"Don't get locked into the mindset that 'I must do something,' because you might get there and it's too crowded to do it, or the parking lot is full," he said. 

Variables like weather and crowds can impact how you experience a park, so Haraden recommends coming up with an open plan with backup options in case an activity doesn't work out. 

Don't forget to pack enough water, and don't assume bottled water will be readily available.

"Running out of water is probably one of the worst mistakes you can make," Haraden said. 

The National Park Service warns visitors that there's a higher risk of heat-related illness, especially during the summer months. Part of being prepared is ensuring you pack enough water or a water-filtration system.

The National Park Service encourages visitors to bring their own reusable water bottles to reduce waste. While there are water fountains available across national parks, visitors won't find many places to purchase a bottle of water. 

Make sure you have the proper supplies for the hikes and activities you're embarking on, like a windbreaker or bear mace.

Haraden said that if you do your research, you'll likely know what to expect and what you'll need for a national park trip.

That might mean packing a windbreaker or extra jacket for trails with high elevation or making sure you have bear spray if you're exploring a park like Yellowstone or Grand Teton, which are populated by bears.

"Even if you don't use it, you're ready in case you do need it," Haraden said. 

Never get too close to wildlife. Haraden says visitors could get seriously hurt and get the animal euthanized, too.

"Wildlife, big and little, are not tame," Haraden said. "Squirrels can bite, and bison can toss people in the air. There's not a single animal that can't hurt you if you pester them or threaten them enough. Any time you change an animal's behavior, you're too close."

He said he'd heard stories of people trying to feed bears or placing their children on the backs of bison. 

Those stories often make headlines, and every year, national park visitors are injured or die due to getting too close to wild animals. 

Haraden added that it's a lose-lose scenario since the animals involved sometimes must be euthanized. 

Don't assume that staying in the national park will be more expensive than staying in hotels or cabins outside the park. However, you will likely need to book accommodations far in advance.

Whether it's a campsite, cabin, or hotel, national parks across the country offer a wide range of accommodations for visitors. 

Haraden said many of the accommodations are reasonably priced. For instance, a room at the Lake Crescent Lodge in Olympic National Park in Washington starts at $50 during the offseason.

"Everyone thinks they're more expensive than lodging outside of the park, but that's not necessarily true," he said. "The park service wants to make them available to everybody, but you do have to reserve them way in advance."

Haraden urges visitors to keep elevation in mind when planning their trip.

"Many western parks are high in elevation. Some are obvious, like Rocky Mountain or Glacier, but others are not obvious, like Grand Canyon and Bryce Canyon," Haraden said. "Elevation can really affect people who aren't used to it or have medical conditions."

If you're traveling from lower altitudes like Florida, for instance, taking the time to acclimate can help ensure that you'll enjoy your trip and not end up with altitude sickness.

On a similar note, Haraden encourages visitors to consider the heat as summertime approaches.

"It's getting hotter and staying hot longer, and that includes in national parks," Haraden said. "Take all the precautions, but especially don't exert yourself during the hottest part of the day."

That might mean getting to a national park earlier or later in the day to enjoy cooler hours or planning trips during the shoulder seasons when the summer temperatures are gone. 

Don't rely on your phone or GPS for directions. Pack a map and be prepared to lose cell service.

Haraden said guests shouldn't rely on their phones to navigate the national parks since many areas lack full cell coverage.

"GPS will commonly not work in remote areas like national parks. Carry maps and know how to read them," he said.

He also encourages visitors not to blindly follow their GPS if they decide to use it.

"If GPS says to use a road but it looks too rough, use your common sense and don't go there. If GPS says to follow a trail that is not there, don't do it," he said.

Haraden said visitors shouldn't make the mistake of not asking for help or advice from park rangers.

Across any national park, you'll find park rangers who are there to answer questions and help create a positive experience inside each national park.

"The park rangers have all the information you need to make decisions," he said.

They can help point visitors to good hikes, and they know the weather and other important information that might be handy. Haraden said visitors should never hesitate to approach a park ranger with questions. 

Haraden's most important advice is to consider the people who will explore and discover the parks after you.

Haraden isn't referring to the people entering the parks tomorrow or next year. He's referencing the future generations of visitors exploring the otherworldly Arches National Park and the geyser-filled wonderland of Yellowstone. 

He said he hopes national park visitors are doing their part to be stewards of the land, which means modeling behavior like picking up trash, giving animals space, and not packing disposable plastic water bottles. 

• I took a 12-hour, business-class flight from Los Angeles to Auckland, New Zealand.
• Air New Zealand's business-class seats on this route at the time cost $6,000.
• It was the most luxurious flight of my life, but I can't justify paying that much anytime soon.

Every time I book a flight, I eye the first-class and business-class seats. 

The extra space, the delicious food, and the endless bubbly seem like pure luxury. While I'm tempted to turn my daydream into reality, my brain reminds me that I don't have an endless budget.

Things changed during the summer of 2022 when Air New Zealand invited me to its headquarters to cover the airline's redesigned cabins. For the 12-hour flight from Los Angeles to Auckland, I'd sit in business class for the first time. 

Sure, it was the most glamorous ride of my life, but I disembarked knowing I likely wouldn't do it again soon.

After settling into business class on Air New Zealand, I realized this plane ride would be unlike any other.

Before I found seat 1A on the Boeing 787-9 aircraft, I was already being treated like royalty. 

One flight attendant was pouring me a glass of sparkling wine. Another one was helping lift my carry-on bag into the overhead bins. A third soon followed to introduce herself and welcome me on the Air New Zealand flight. 

If those first few minutes were any indicator of how the rest of my ride would go, I knew I was in for a glamorous time. 

I also knew that business-class passengers around me had likely dropped around $6,000 for their ticket, which was the flight cost in 2022. (Business Insider received a media rate for a round-trip flight.)

As of May 2025, the airline has redesigned its business-class cabin, and round-trip flights from Los Angeles start at $7,000.

Before this flight, I'd never spent more than $1,400 on a plane ticket. Most of my vacations involve free campsites and nights spent in a $20 tent I bought off Facebook Marketplace. 

I appreciated the indulgent flight — years later, I'm still thinking about the chocolate tart served for dessert.

Even after all the perks, I'm convinced flying business class isn't worth the splurge. 

Every expectation of business class was met, but I'd ultimately never shell out $6,000 for a plane ticket.

Every part of the 12-hour flight was filled with luxury.

I was handed a warm towel before a three-course dinner. I received a turndown service, and flight attendants converted my seat into a lie-flat bed. I slept better than I had on any flight before and woke up to a fruit smoothie and warm coffee.

Even with those perks, it was hard to ignore that the flight was the same 12 hours as it was in coach.

No amount of wine could distract me from the fact that I was still confined to a tight space. No number of free toiletries could make me forget I was about to spend days jet-lagged. 

Now, if my business-class ticket came with turbo speed, perhaps I'd think twice about the cost. 

In theory, for the same price as a round-trip flight, I could've spent more time in New Zealand, paid rent, or put a down payment on a new car.

When it comes to traveling, I'm typically willing to sacrifice comfort for the experience. I'd rather pay money to go skydiving or bungee jumping than stay in a five-star hotel.

And $6,000 could fund a lot of life experiences. The cost of my business-class seat on the same route could buy another vacation, pay for multiple months of rent, or be used as a down payment on a new car that could take me on adventures across the US. 

I could also replicate my entire 21-day trip to New Zealand and Australia for less than the cost of a round-trip ticket to New Zealand. 

While I loved the business-class experience, I'd trade it in a heartbeat to go diving in the Great Barrier Reef again, stay in more magical tiny homes, and continue exploring the two epic countries. 

The flight taught me I don't truly embrace the motto: "It's about the journey, not the destination." To me, flights are all about getting from point A to point B.

I've probably reiterated the phrase dozens of times. To a degree, I stand by the concept that life is often about the journey. 

I've embarked on plenty of road trips where the best memories happened in the passenger seat — not the destinations we were driving to. 

But when I look at the highlights of past trips, plane rides never stand out.

I think that's because the entire experience still has challenges regardless of your cabin class. Between possible delays, dry air, cabin pressure, limited space, and potential jet lag, I've never been too eager to board a plane.

I love the rush when the plane lifts off the ground, and I savor the views and conversations with strangers on each flight.

But my excitement is more about where I'm going. It's not about being cramped on a plane. 

I previously never considered the environmental toll of sitting in business class.

Before my trip, I knew that flying was one of the more carbon-intensive transportation options. In 2023, aviation made up about 2.5% of global energy-related carbon emissions.

Two months after my business-class flight, I chatted with sustainability experts about how to make vacations more sustainable. They told me that a large part of a vacation's carbon footprint will likely come from the flight, and if I do need to fly to my destination, it's more responsible to sit in economy class. 

A business-class seat takes up significantly more space on a plane, which means fewer passengers can fit onto the aircraft. And that results in a larger carbon footprint.

For example, a business-class row of seats on Air New Zealand's Boeing 787-9 fits three people. Meanwhile, a row in economy on the same plane fits nine passengers. Those nine people have a much smaller personal carbon footprint than the three sitting in business class. 

Before this trip, I had never had the chance to sit in premium economy, much less business class, so I hadn't considered the different carbon footprints each cabin class has on planes.

As I continue searching for more sustainable ways to travel, like train travel, I'm also booking economy for future flights.

As an able-bodied person, I am privileged to be able to sit in an economy cabin, and I plan to do so for as long as possible.

I'm young and able-bodied. While sitting in economy is never a blast, especially on long-haul flights, I am fortunate that I can. Planes aren't designed for everyone.

Flying can be challenging for plus-sized passengers. Planes are also not often a comfortable experience for many people with disabilities. Rebekah Taussig, a wheelchair user, wrote for Time that "flying has always felt disempowering."

Flying — especially in economy class — isn't something everyone has the privilege to do. I'm fortunate that I can relax in an economy seat on a long-haul flight. For me, wanting the luxury of a business-class seat doesn't seem necessary in my current life. 

Ultimately, I'm at a point where every dollar and every day of exploring matters to me. For now, I'll skip paying for a business-class seat.

There are a few circumstances where I'd consider splurging on a premium economy ticket, such as a monumental birthday trip or a honeymoon. But I can't envision an instance where I would pay $6,000 for a regular long-haul, business-class flight.

From the environmental toll to extra time in a destination, I plan to stick with economy class for future flights. 

• I dreamed of overwater bungalows in places like the Maldives, but dreaded the long flight there.
• Then, I discovered places in Central America and the Caribbean with overwater resorts. 
• I landed on Thatch Caye in Belize, where my bungalow dreams were met after a six-hour flight. 

Waking up to ocean waters lapping underneath me, a breeze rustling through a thatched roof, and sea salt coating my skin is my vision of an ideal tropical vacation.

I believed the best place to create that experience would be an overwater bungalow — the epitome of a luxury vacation.

For years, I assumed I'd first have to hop on a long-haul flight to get there.

I could fly 17-plus hours to Tahiti, where the accommodation concept originated, or explore the dozens of overwater resorts in the Maldives, as long as I was willing to embark on a 26-hour journey.

Then, I was proved wrong with a stay at Thatch Caye, an all-inclusive, private island resort home to overwater bungalows off the coast of Belize.

There's a reason overwater bungalows aren't as popular in the Caribbean

Overwater bungalow resorts are more than 55 years old. And it all started when three Americans — Jay Carlisle, Hugh Kelley, and Donald McCallum — moved to French Polynesia to start a vanilla farm.

When vanilla couldn't grow on the land they bought, the men pivoted to the hospitality industry. They bought a run-down hotel on the island of Moorea and named it Bali Hai.

The trio — who became known as the Bali Hai Boys — built other hotels, including on the island of Ra'iātea, where the idea for the overwater bungalows originated. As this resort grew in popularity, there was nowhere to expand, Hugh Kelley's daughter, Vaihiria Kelley, told Business Insider. A road cut off one side of the resort, and other resorts neighbored Bali Hai.

"The only way to expand was to expand out over the water," Kelley said.

Using inspiration from traditional Tahitian fishing huts, which similarly sit over the ocean, the men built the first overwater bungalows in 1967.

Ra'iātea's calm waters made it the ideal place for an overwater bungalow, Kelley said. The trio built ladders leading straight into the ocean and added clear panels to the bungalow's floors so guests could view aquatic life below.

"They didn't expect it would be so popular and that it would be such a novel concept," Kelley said.

It was. The Bali Hai Boys added overwater bungalows to all of their resorts, and other resorts started popping up with the accommodations, too.

Today, sites like Overwater Bungalows state that more than 250 resorts worldwide offer this accommodation style.

Yet, most of these places are in the Maldives and the South Pacific.

Places like Tahiti and the Maldives are ideal for overwater bungalows because the region's waters tend to be calmer, and tranquil lagoons often surround the islands. Strong tides and hurricane-prone regions in the Caribbean can make building overwater bungalows challenging.

That hasn't stopped companies across Central America and the Caribbean from building these structures. In 2016, the Sandals Resort in Montego Bay, Jamaica, was the first resort to offer overwater bungalows in the Caribbean.

Other resorts followed, and the accommodations now exist in Aruba, Panama, Antigua, Mexico, St. Lucia, St. Vincent, Belize, and Turks and Caicos.

Without a desire to spend 26 hours traveling to the Maldives, I settled on Belize

Last year, my friend and I were planning a scuba diving trip. We wanted to go somewhere with incredible diving, but didn't want to spend most of our vacation on a plane.

We landed on Belize, which involved two three-hour flights from Denver. If we had flown directly, it would've taken just four hours.

When it came to accommodations, I started looking at luxury options. Thatch Caye's overwater bungalows caught my eye.

The private island is home to eight overwater bungalows, and it's one of the few resorts in Belize that offers them.

Five are considered premier with private decks; the other three share a deck. When I visited, the premier overwater bungalows cost about $950 a night for two people, which included resort fees and taxes. (BI received a media rate for the stay.)

The photos online were stunning. Wooden decks led out to the ocean, and each premier bungalow had a hammock for lounging and comfy beds for sleeping.

So when I say settled, I mean we eagerly booked two nights at Thatch Caye.

The bungalows exceeded my tropical vacation dreams

For two nights, I did exactly what I had dreamed of. I went to sleep under a spattering of night stars with the ocean lapping beneath me. I woke up to the wind rustling in the thatched roof and the sun shining.

The overwater bungalows lacked two amenities I had hoped for: a clear floor to peer into the ocean and direct water access from my bungalow.

The resort made up for it in other ways. The island had a sandy beach where guests could wade in the water and a snorkeling area where they could spot rays, starfish, and nurse sharks. There were complimentary kayaks, paddleboards, and sailboats. An on-site dive shop that coordinated dives allowed me to explore the Belize Barrier Reef at additional costs.

Since Thatch Caye is home to only 30 guests, the trip felt much more intimate than other all-inclusives. I bonded with other vacationers as we dined at a communal dinner table each evening.

My first stay in an overwater bungalow reminded me that I don't need to hop on an all-day flight to experience the accommodation.

But that doesn't mean Tahiti is no longer on my radar. Kelley urged me to prioritize a bungalow experience there.

"The concept was really inspired, at the end of the day, by something that's culturally tied to Tahiti with the fisherman's hut," Kelley said. "I'm biased, but I do think the most beautiful ones are in Tahiti."

So, one day, I'll get on that 17-hour flight.

• On a round-trip long-haul flight last summer, I sat in the front and back of the economy cabin.
• Each seat had perks. People at the front had food options, but the back had a galley for stretching.
• I'm still partial to the back, but I understand why people prefer the front.

It's a hot take, but I love the back of a plane — especially on a long-haul flight.

After a handful of eight-plus-hour flights tucked away in the rear of economy, I decided to see if my preference remained strong.

On a long-haul round-trip Lufthansa flight between Denver and Germany in the summer of 2024, I decided to compare the two areas of economy.

For my outbound flight, I sat in row 42, the third-to-last economy row. For my return trip, I was seated in row 11, the first economy row.

Each seat had its perks, but I'm sticking with the back of the plane.

When it comes to food service, the front wins

A few hours into my return flight to Denver, flight attendants came around with carts full of meals. Each passenger was asked a simple question: chicken or pasta?

This wasn't the case when I was seated in the back. When flight attendants reached my row of economy, they had run out of options. Each passenger was handed a tray of beef and mashed potatoes.

From experience, that seems to be the trend. A similar situation happened on a flight to Tokyo and again on a trip to Germany.

If I were a picky eater, this reason alone could sway me to opt for a front-row seat. Instead, I typically request a vegetarian meal for long-haul flights, so my meal is already picked before I board the plane.

My main focus — regardless of whether it's the front or back — is to avoid the bathrooms

When I'm cramped in a tight space, the last thing I want to worry about is a bathroom smell wafting around me for more than 10 hours.

So, my No. 1 priority when picking a long-haul seat is sitting far from the bathrooms. On many larger aircraft, the economy bathrooms are stationed in the middle of the cabin.

For my 10-hour flight to Germany, I was in the back of economy, and there wasn't a bathroom directly behind me. Instead, a galley was just a few feet away, ideal for a quick stretch break.

I also didn't have a bathroom nearby for my return flight at the front. If I opt for the front on a future flight, I'll double-check that the premium economy cabin has no bathrooms near my seat.

Any open seats remained in the back of the plane

I've been lucky enough to have one or two long-haul flights without a middle-seat passenger. I've celebrated every bit of extra room and tried hard to recreate that luck.

I'm convinced your best chance of having an empty seat is if you're in the back of a cabin. Since most people avoid the rear, those seats are chosen last, or hopefully not chosen at all.

A few days before each flight, I checked the seat map and noticed my theory was correct. The majority of the empty seats remaining were toward the back of economy.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case when I boarded the plane. Both flights were fully booked, meaning I would've been sitting next to someone no matter where I was on the plane.

On one flight, sitting in the rear helped me disembark faster

One of the main arguments for sitting in the front of economy is that you get off the plane faster.

While that's been the case on most of my long-haul flights, it wasn't when we landed at the Munich airport. Instead, flight attendants informed the passengers that we'd use both the front and back doors for disembarking. Since I was seated in the back, I was off the plane in no time.

However, had I been sitting in the back on my return flight, I would've been one of the last people off the plane. This would have also meant a much longer line when I reached customs.

No economy seat on a long-haul flight is ideal, but I'm sticking with the back

No matter the seat, a 10-hour flight isn't fun. I've learned to be patient and celebrate small wins, like getting a window seat or having an empty seat nearby.

Ultimately, everyone has their preferences. Mine just happens to be at the back of the plane, where I have a galley for stretching and a better chance at an empty seat.

• Kibale Lodge is Volcanoes Safaris' newest property in Uganda.
• It has luxury amenities like a pool, complimentary massages, and butler service.
• The highlight, however, is that the lodge is located near Uganda's top spot for chimpanzee trekking.

My safari guide, Francis Kiwanuka, navigated a long, bumpy clay road into Uganda's mountains.

As we barreled down the one-way lane, we eyed an incoming storm and clouds of mist hovering above the lush jungle. We passed banana farms, drove through abandoned tea plantations, and pulled over for the occasional motorcycle and farmer.

Eventually, a brown thatched roof came into view. We made it to Kibale Lodge — the eco-tourism company Volcanoes Safaris' newest property and my first stop on a six-night trip across Uganda.

While staying in the safari outfitter's luxury lodges was a welcome part of my itinerary, I was really at Kibale Lodge for something a bit less glamorous: chimpanzee trekking in Kibale National Park.

I arrived at Kibale Lodge to the smell of wet earth and burning smoke.

I arrived in Uganda during the rainy season, and Kiwanuka parked the car just as the storm settled in.

Thankfully, the rain didn't last long, and as I darted toward the lodge, the scents around me were impossible to ignore.

There was smoke, likely from nearby villages, and perfumes from the 200,000 native plants gardeners had planted at Kibale.

As for the lodge, it blended naturally into the environment. Located on a ridgeline 4,690 feet above sea level, I could see surrounding crater lakes, the Rwenzori Mountains, the plains in Queen Elizabeth National Park, and a nearby village.

Tonny Kayanja, the lodge manager, said Kibale's isolated location, views, and surrounding nature make it unique.

"Kibale brings out beauty. It's like being in the wilderness, with your own privacy," he told me. "You can be a child again here."

The lodge opened in the summer of last year and is Volcanoes Safaris' newest property.

While travelers often arrive in Uganda for its famed gorilla trekking, chimpanzee trekking is another pull, and Kibale is situated near the primate capital of the world, Kibale National Park.

A night at Kibale Lodge in high season costs $1,650 per person in a shared room and $990 in low season. This cost includes meals, drinks, activities, laundry, and spa treatments. Business Insider received a complimentary stay at Kibale Lodge.

Typically, travelers do what I did in Uganda and join one of Volcanoes Safaris' seven- or ten-day itineraries. On these itineraries, travelers visit multiple lodges for experiences like gorilla and chimpanzee trekking, wetland walks, and visits to conservation projects, including coffee cooperatives, tree nurseries, and lion monitoring projects. Activities, lodges, domestic flights, food, laundry, park fees, and trekking permits are included in the rate.

As for Kibale Lodge, its property has eight bandas, or traditional cabins.

Eight bandas — six deluxe and two standard — sit across the 150-acre property. Each luxury cabin was hand-built without machinery.

During my stay, I had complimentary laundry, a major perk when you're spending days sweating in Uganda's forests.

I also had a butler named Livias. While she was there to bring me morning coffee and make sure my fireplace was lit each night, she was also a friendly face to answer every pestering question I had about the lodge, Uganda, and the surrounding areas.

The deluxe bandas are split into three rooms.

The exterior and interior of my cottage had elements of the nature around me. Papyrus was used for the roof, while red soil and cow dung formed the walls.

Outside, each banda has a private terrace.

Inside, the deluxe rooms are divided into three. The first room is a seating area with a fireplace and couches. The middle room is the bedroom, with a king-size bed, desk, and fireplace. The third area has an enormous changing room and an interior bathroom with a double vanity, shower, and toilet.

An outdoor shower — Kayanja's favorite feature — is connected to the third room.

The property is also home to a spa and pool.

A short walk from my room was Kibale's spa.

There were two massage rooms, a swimming pool overlooking the jungle, and a sauna.

Guests at Kibale can receive complimentary massages, and spending an afternoon at the pool is an easy way to pass the time.

At the heart of Kibale is a main lodge, where meals are served and cocktails are sipped.

Like my room, elements across the main lodge came from the surrounding nature.

The interior was filled with warm woods, natural walls, and rattan furniture. A dining table stretched across one area of the room, where guests were encouraged to sit for a communal dinner each evening.

The menu changed each night I was there, but it was filled with locally inspired foods. I had catfish one evening and butternut squash another. For breakfast, I tried traditional Ugandan katogo, a dish typically made with green bananas.

From the lodge, guests can adventure on hiking trails that lead to lookout points and crater lakes.

A few different hiking paths start from Kibale Lodge. Guests can walk up to a viewpoint during sunset or take a longer hike around a nearby crater lake.

My first afternoon at Kibale was spent on a guided hike with Kibale staff member Saidi, who pointed out different species of birds and plants.

The lodge's main appeal is its proximity to Kibale National Park.

Kibale National Park sits 30 minutes away from the lodge. The forest is home to 13 species of primates, making it the primate capital of the world.

The national park has more than 1,500 chimpanzees. So, while travelers can view species like the red colobus, black-and-white colobus, and L'Hoest's monkeys in the park, many arrive for chimpanzee trekking.

On my first morning at Kibale, that's exactly what I did.

Volcanoes Safaris coordinated my chimpanzee trekking plans and secured my permit, which costs $250 and is included in the price of the outfitter's safari packages.

Kiwanuka drove me 30 minutes to the forest, where I met a ranger with the Uganda Wildlife Authority.

I woke up in Kibale Lodge to the chirps of birds like Ross's turaco, then came the roosters and noises from the nearby village coming alive. The final sound was from my butler, who reminded me that I had a chimpanzee trek in just a few hours.

After breakfast, Kiwanuka drove me and another traveler to Kibale National Park. As we made our way through the forest, we searched the canopies for red and black-and-white colobus monkeys. We stopped on the road while waiting for a troop of baboons to cross.

Finally, we arrived at the trailhead for chimpanzee trekking. Here, I met Bosco Bwambale, our ranger with the Uganda Wildlife Authority.

He was with three other trackers, and before heading deeper into the forest, Bwambale gave a briefing on what to expect during the chimp trek.

We would hike into the forest, where another set of trackers had sights on the Kanyantale chimp community. Once we found the chimpanzees, we would put on face masks and observe them for an hour. Then, we would hike out.

We headed into the dense forest, where we followed elephant tracks and listened to radio calls from the trackers.

Bwambale, who has been a ranger for nearly two decades, saw the chimpanzees long before I did. They were in the branches above us, and after a few moments, they let out screams.

Bwambale explained that the shrieks were notifying others that they had found food, and that it was lunchtime.

As we got closer, I saw them on the move — jumping from branch to branch, sliding down thick vines, and moving on the ground.

Finally, they settled down in one area, where I watched them groom one another, eat, and explore.

It was one of the best hours of my life, and I left dreaming of a return trip to Kibale Lodge.

For an hour, I eyed the ears and hands that felt reminiscent of my own. I watched the 30-or-so chimpanzees interact with each other, and I was there long enough to see a bit of each primate's personality.

Rangers like Bwambale have given each chimp a name, and Bwambale shared tidbits about their lives, like Budha, who is calm and known for stretching.

After hiking back out, we drove back to Kibale Lodge, where I spent the afternoon sipping coffee and reflecting on the experience, eager to start planning a return trip.

• Justin and Annabelle Parfitt decided to live part-time between Bali and France in 2017.
• They purchased a land lease in Bali and spent $1.7 million building two luxury villas.
• Now, they rent the villas for parties, vacations, and milestone birthday celebrations.

The Parfitt family spends half their year in Bali, but the place they call home isn't a cookie-cutter Bali bungalow.

It's a luxury short-term rental that Justin and Annabelle Parfitt designed themselves.

In 2017, after bouncing from startup to startup, the couple decided to slow life down and live part-time between Bali and the French countryside.

To make the lifestyle profitable, they built a two-villa compound named Kasianda in Bali's Canggu neighborhood, which they rent out for vacation stays and parties.

Now, the couple and their children, Rosie, 9, and Skye, 5, spend half their year living in the luxury property.

After launching multiple startups, the Parfitts decided to live in their two favorite places

The couple's careers have taken twists and turns over the past two and a half decades.

Justin Parfitt graduated from college in Bristol, England. After undergrad, Parfitt produced house music and led a video production company, among other projects. In the early 2000s, he moved to Australia for his MBA, where he met his wife, Annabelle Parfitt.

Parfitt started a speed-dating company, and his wife joined the team. The business launched in the US and Canada, and the couple traveled around the world in between. In 2013, they sold their company, and Parfitt started a social network built around experiences.

Finally, in 2016, Parfitt said he and his wife decided to settle down after years of living and traveling between destinations.

"It came time to try to reimagine our lives. I was like, 'Well, where do we really like going?'" he recalled. "And the only places that we'd regularly gone back to were Bali and southwest France."

So, in 2017, they bought a small chateau in Gascony, France, and headed to Bali to start their next project: building a luxury short-term rental.

The plan was to split time between the two destinations and rent out each property when they weren't there.

In Bali, they bought land and started building a villa

With sights set on Bali, the pair found land to lease.

Due to Indonesian law, foreigners can't own land in Bali. Instead, they can have a leasehold or the right-to-use title. While these vary, the Parfitt family's 40-year lease cost them $400,000.

The pair worked with a local architect and spent a year drafting plans for a two-building compound: one villa with seven bedrooms and a second with five.

They toyed with different architectural styles, from tropical to modern, and landed on colonial.

"Our idea was to make something timeless," Parfitt said.

Construction started in 2018, and nearly a year later, the five-bedroom villa was finished. On Christmas Eve in 2019, they welcomed their first guests.

Then, the pandemic hit, and the pair finished building the seven-bedroom villa via WhatsApp from their home in France.

Parfitt said the compound was completed by 2021, and the project cost about $1.7 million, which included the land lease, construction, fixtures, landscaping, and furnishings.

The two villas can be rented separately or together, and the whole property can welcome up to 30 guests.

"The seven-bedroom is like your own private 5-star resort," Parfitt said.

From the very beginning, the goal was to offer a luxury stay. Outside, the larger villa has an expansive saltwater pool, a swim-up bar, a terrace, and a barbecue pit. Inside, there's an open kitchen, a living room, eight bathrooms, a dining room, and a media room.

The smaller villa also has a pool, a shared living and dining room, and a kitchen.

Today, the compound employs 17 workers, including four chefs, butlers, security guards, and housekeepers.

Depending on the season, a night in the larger villa costs between $1,500 and $2,100, while the smaller one typically costs between $400 and $800.

Beyond luxury, the villa focuses on extravagant events

As the couple finished building, they realized they wanted to differentiate themselves from the other villas and short-term rentals across the island.

The Parfitts approached this in two ways. The first was adding a commercial kitchen and a bar to the property's offerings. A popular Bali chef developed the menu, and the former head mixologist of the Ritz-Carlton created cocktails. This means guests can access fine dining, small bites, and tropical cocktails similar to what they'd expect from a hotel restaurant.

The second was adding event planning. As the family noticed that more guests were arriving for celebrations like birthdays and anniversaries, they decided to capitalize on that by offering complimentary party-planning services.

The Parfitts work with guests and villa staff to plan and execute extravagant parties, specifically for milestone birthdays.

In March, 30 people arrived at the villa from India for a Holi-inspired 60th birthday party, complete with colorful water balloons and foam cannons.

Last year, they hosted an Alice in Wonderland-themed party with fire performers, dancers, and themed cocktails.

Parfitt said he estimates they're hosting one or two birthdays monthly.

"It's more creative than the traditional short-term rental," he said.

During the offseason, the family of four lives in the smaller villa while welcoming guests and improving the compound. In March, they were on-site developing new menu items like a duck salad and testing new cocktails.

"We've got really good food and great cocktails," Parfitt said. "But at the end of the day, we try to make sure that there's something extra special as well."

• In the span of two months, I visited two all-inclusive resorts after avoiding them for years.
• The stays proved that my perceptions of all-inclusive resorts were wrong.
• They were luxurious trips, but one island resort in Panama stood out.

For years, I avoided all-inclusive resorts.

I assumed the term was synonymous with crowded beaches, buffet lines, and over-chlorinated pools.

But last year, I accidentally booked an all-inclusive stay in Belize. Two months later, I traveled to Panama and, once again, stayed at an all-inclusive property.

Not only did these stays change my view of the vacation style, but they also turned out to be some of the best places I've ever visited. A year later, I'm still daydreaming about the Panama resort.

Last February, I had my eyes set on sleeping in an overwater bungalow. The place I chose also happened to be all-inclusive.

When I think of a dream tropical vacation, an image of an overwater bungalow is bound to cross my mind.

Sleeping above the ocean, swimming in crystal-clear waters, and vacationing next to marine life is the epitome of a tropical vacation.

To curate that vision, I assumed it would involve a flight to Tahiti, where overwater bungalows originated, or a trek to the Maldives.

Then, I learned there were bungalows in Belize. Thatch Caye, a Muy'Ono Resort, sits on a small private island off the coast of Dangriga, Belize.

The property has eight overwater bungalows. When I visited, the rate was around $950 a night for two guests and included meals, non-alcoholic and alcoholic beverages, boat transfers, and aquatic gear like paddleboards and kayaks. Business Insider received a media rate for the stay.

The experience at Thatch Caye was magical.

I stayed in a premier overwater bungalow, which meant that my friend and I enjoyed evenings watching the sunset from our bungalow's hammock and nights falling asleep to the wind whistling through the palm-frond roof.

Plus, staying on a private island — with room for only 30 guests — created a more intimate experience than what I envisioned at massive all-inclusives.

Instead of bumping into strangers at the pool or fighting over loungers at the beach, I got to know other guests visiting the property.

Thatch Caye also had the traditional perks of an all-inclusive. There was endless access to tropical drinks, and, yes, there was a buffet. However, instead of all-day access to food, there were set times when meals were served each day.

I spent two blissful nights at the resort. My friend and I paddleboarded around the island, adventured on a scuba diving excursion (with additional costs), and sipped cocktails hanging above the ocean.

It was an all-inclusive experience that completely demolished all my perceptions of the vacation style.

I loved it so much that I booked another all-inclusive stay two months later.

With the words "all-inclusive" no longer deterring me from a resort, I headed to Isla Palenque two months after visiting Belize to end a weeklong trip to Panama.

The resort, which sits on a little island on Panama's coast in the Gulf of Chiriqui, is home to eight beachfront casitas,

Guests can access seven private beaches, a shared pool, a lounge area, a restaurant, and a bar.

The resort is similarly priced. During my stay, the cost was about $980 a day for two guests. That included boat transfers, meals, non-alcoholic beverages, and daily experiences. Business Insider received a media rate for the stay.

After Thatch Caye, I wasn't sure if my expectations for an all-inclusive were fair.

Thatch Caye was a blast. As someone who has hotel- and resort-hopped all over the world, I thought the experience far exceeded its 3-star rating.

Isla Palenque, on the other hand, is a five-star resort. I was curious if I'd notice much of a difference between the two luxury all-inclusive stays.

The island exceeded the high standards Thatch Caye set.

A few things made this all-inclusive experience even more luxurious.

While Thatch Caye felt intimate, Isla Palenque felt even more private. I sipped morning coffee on beaches by myself and got lost paddleboarding around the shores.

The island also hosted complimentary activities each day. I spent one evening at a yoga class and another snorkeling and picnicking on a private beach.

The food was more elevated, with multi-course lunches and dinners from a rotating menu. There was also an all-day menu, so when hunger crept up one afternoon between lunch and dinner, I ordered a bowl of fresh ceviche to tide me over — an all-inclusive perk I appreciated.

The staff was welcoming, and my accommodations were more upscale, with more space, privacy, and an enormous outdoor bathroom.

It's been one year since I visited Isla Palenque, and I haven't stopped thinking about the island.

Pristine beaches, overgrown jungles, full itineraries, and a welcoming staff earned Isla Palenque a spot as one of my favorite resorts — it being all-inclusive was an added bonus to the stay.

There are plenty of all-inclusives left to explore across Central America, but when I return to Panama, I'll be making a stop back at Isla Palenque.

• On a three-week trip to East Africa, I mainly experienced safaris by vehicle.
• One afternoon in Uganda, I swapped the safari truck for a boat.
• It was an unexpected highlight of the trip and offered new perspectives on animals.

Within an hour in Tanzania's Serengeti National Park, I witnessed a giraffe's treacherous water crossing. Minutes later, I was a few feet away from a male lion with a shaggy mane.

These were the moments I had dreamed of.

For years, these dreams were limited to a traditional safari. I pictured myself bumping along on dirt roads in an open-air vehicle, searching for zebras, elephants, and rhinos.

One of the most unexpected highlights of a three-week safari trip wasn't in a safari vehicle. It was on a boat.

I spent an afternoon in Uganda on a safari cruise

After a week in Tanzania, I headed to Uganda for a safari with the outfitter Volcanoes Safaris. The focus of the weeklong trip was gorilla trekking at Bwindi Lodge and chimpanzee trekking near Kibale Lodge.

Tucked into my itinerary was a cruise through the Kazinga Channel, a 20-mile-long channel that links Uganda's Lake Edward and Lake George.

It was a nice break from the safari vehicle. I was on week three of enjoying "African massages," a joke you'll hear from nearly every guide about how the bumpy rides mimic a vibrating massage chair.

For one afternoon, I got to float on the King Fisher, a Sun Tracker pontoon. The experience was booked through Volcanoes Safaris with Mweya Safari Lodge, where a private cruise for two people costs $210 per person. (Business Insider received complimentary admission to the cruise.)

After settling into comfy leather chairs, we left the dock and adventured out.

We cruised while spotting new animals in a new environment

Floating on the water offered a new perspective compared to driving through open plains and bushy areas.

If you're on a safari around the Serengeti National Park, you might be limited to staying on designated roads, waiting in traffic for an opportunity to view animals, and watching animals quickly disappear behind foliage.

That wasn't the case in the water. There was no traffic or waiting. We had the whole channel to explore. During the three-hour experience, I spotted one other safari cruise, and sure, animals could disappear beneath the water's surface, but they eventually had to pop back up.

Plus, seeing animals in a new habitat was thrilling. I watched an elephant bathing in shallow waters a few hundred feet away from a small fishing village. I watched baby hippos swim and hide from our enormous boat. There were crocodiles — a creature I hadn't seen yet — and unfamiliar reptiles and birds I had yet to spot.

A safari is more than just a drive

While a traditional game drive is a quintessential element of a safari vacation, the cruise was a refreshing reminder that it can involve more than just a vehicle.

During my three weeks, I traveled in the bush on foot, by boat, and by car. Each experience provided new perspectives, new animal sightings, and a new appreciation for these valuable ecosystems.

• Snowmass in Colorado is nearing the completion of its $1 billion Base Village.
• Once its final complex opens in late 2027, there won't be land left in Base Village to develop.
• Wealthy Americans are buying the building's few remaining condos for millions of dollars.

Three decades ago, Snowmass Village was known mainly for its mountain. It was a quiet town where serious skiers searched for powder in the winter, and mountain bikers flew down trails in the summer.

Now, Snowmass has a different reputation. It's still luring skiers, mountain bikers, and nature lovers, but it's also attracting those with large pocketbooks.

That's because the town has added a $1 billion development at the bottom of its mountain called Snowmass Base Village.

It's home to luxury hotels, fine dining, shopping, and multimillion-dollar residential complexes.

As Base Village nears the finish line of construction, only a few luxury condominiums remain, and after those are sold, there won't be land left in Base Village to develop.

A $1 billion development nears completion

On and off for the past two decades, Snowmass has been developing and building its Snowmass Base Village.

The area sits down the road from Snowmass Mall, a two-story complex built in the 1960s. With a few restaurants, cafés, and stores, this was a limited area for tourists.

In an attempt to make Snowmass a popular destination, Aspen Skiing Company bought 11 acres down the road from the mall and planned to develop Snowmass Base Village. The hope was that the town would become a place where wealthy visitors could vacation, dine, shop, and explore Snowmass Mountain.

"To keep Snowmass relevant in the world of ski resorts, this was needed," Andy Gunion, a managing partner at the development firm East West Partners, told Business Insider.

Plans for Base Village were approved in 2004 after a contentious vote. Construction started and stalled during the recession. In late 2016, East West Partners acquired the base with KSL Capital Partners and Aspen Skiing Company.

Nearly a decade later, East West Partners is finishing its final residential structure: the Stratos, a two-building, 89-unit luxury complex.

Beyond this final project, Base Village includes nine other residential buildings with amenities like heated pools, fitness rooms, housekeeping, ski valets, and 24-hour concierge. The complexes also have ski-in, ski-out access — a prime perk in a ski town.

In addition to the residences, there's a community center, hotel, restaurants, an ice rink, a medical clinic, and a children's area.

Gunion said potential buyers were initially skeptical about whether Base Village would be successful after years of stalled construction. The first 14 condo units sold by East West Partners went for low prices.

"Our profit margins on these were not great because we just needed to start," Gunion said. "The people who bought early got great deals."

Gunion said interest picked up as time went on, especially after the COVID-19 pandemic. Selling units hasn't been a challenge in recent years.

For example, the Cirque Building, which was completed in 2024 and is part of the Viceroy Hotel, sold out of most of its privately owned units within the first two weeks of being released for $2,700 a square foot.

Meanwhile, the first Stratos building won't be finished until early 2027, and the second is set for late 2027. Though the opening is two years away, the buildings have nearly sold out. Sales launched at the end of January, and only 21 units of the 89-unit complex remain.

Originally, the Stratos units started at $2.85 million. The cheapest option is no longer available; today, units range from $2.95 million to $30 million.

There isn't a cookie-cutter buyer

Gunion told BI that buyers come from across the country and the world.

Florida is the No. 1 market, but Gunion said that's by a slim margin. Others come from Texas, California, Chicago, and New York. He added that international interest is also increasing, especially with Brazilian buyers.

Most of these people are second homeowners or are purchasing condos as investments. While they might vacation in Snowmass, few owners are full-time residents.

Gunion said that was the expectation when designing and building Base Village.

"Here's a neighborhood that's for second homeowners and resort guests, and that's what Base Village is always intended to be," he said.

Once Stratos is complete, Base Village will also be finished, which means there will be limited new construction in the area.

Wealthy buyers interested in Base Village will have to buy condos being relisted at a higher price or expand their search outside the ski hub.

Either way, luxury seems to be the theme when it comes to real estate in Snowmass.

"We've elevated the market with all these residences," Gunion said.

• Forestis is a five-star hotel tucked in Italy's Dolomites.
• The property connects guests with nature through saunas, locally sourced meals, and stunning views.
• I spent three nights at the hotel where luxury was around every corner.

The morning sun slowly crept up, illuminating the outline of the Dolomites. I squinted out my hotel suite's floor-to-ceiling windows in disbelief.

"They can't be that close," I murmured out loud, fearing I'd wake my friend sleeping near me.

It was still largely dark outside, and I begged the sun to rise faster.

Ages later (realistically just 20 minutes), light illuminated each jagged peak.

The mountains were, in fact, that close.

This time, I didn't think twice about waking my friend. In our PJs, we hurried onto our balcony at Forestis to get a little closer to the range.

As we sipped coffee and admired the striking views, we feared the morning was setting an unrealistic standard for the rest of our stay.

Shockingly, the views weren't even the best part of Forestis.

Forestis is tucked in Italy's Dolomites mountain range.

The five-star hotel sits 5,905 meters above sea level near the Italian town of Brixen.

In 1912, the property was originally planned to be a sanatorium built by the Austrian monarchy.

The area's fresh spring water, mountain air, and nature were thought to provide an ideal environment for healing. Construction started, but the plans were never finished as war sprung across the region.

In 2000, hotelier Alois Hinteregger discovered the abandoned building, which his family purchased and opened as a hotel in 2010.

A decade later, Alois' son Stefan and his partner, Teresa Unterthiner, expanded the property and transformed it into the five-star retreat it is today.

Three towers of suites and a private villa complete the resort.

My friend and I arrived at the property at night. We drove up the winding Plose Mountain, and the lights from the nearby town slowly disappeared.

Even at night, it was clear that Forestis was a grand property. Three towers stretch toward the sky, home to 40 suites and two penthouses. Adjoining the towers is a historic building with suites, hotel rooms, a restaurant, a bar, and a spa.

While the sanatorium never operated as planned, one completed building did serve as a doctor's residence in the early 20th century. That building has been remodeled and restored to a private villa with a spa and garden for 10 guests.

Rates at the five-star property start at $865, depending on the time of year, and include breakfast for two. Business Insider received a media rate for the three-night stay.

Piney references are across the entire property.

From rooms with spruce-paneled walls to a spa using mountain pine and Swiss stone pine scents, Forestis is consistent in its theme.

The resort's goal is to connect guests with the four elements, and for three days, it was impossible to forget I was surrounded by nature.

Suites feature floor-to-ceiling glass windows that frame the mountains. Meanwhile, each suite's walls, floors, and ceiling are paneled in spruce.

As I stepped into my tower suite, the forest theme continued. Every inch of the room was covered in spruce wood, besides one wall dedicated to glass windows.

A king-sized bed filled one corner facing the suite's floor-to-ceiling windows, and across the room was an L-shaped seating area. At the front of the room was a balcony with a daybed big enough for two.

Toward the entrance to the room was a large closet area and a stone-inspired bathroom with a double vanity, shower, and tub. Here, rock had been ground into plaster and covered the bathroom walls — an element I spotted across the resort.

One cabinet held complimentary drinks and snacks; a new treat, such as truffles and chocolates, arrived just before bedtime each evening.

The room's design was simple — there was no artwork or decor. Couch cushions and bed sheets were in grays and whites, and it seemed like all focus was directed toward the nearby Dolomites.

While it was hard to leave the breathtaking room, the resort's highlight was the spa and pool.

After waking up to the striking mountain views, my friend and I considered never leaving the suite. We could call room service when hungry and spend the day admiring the mountains.

It was tempting, but we headed downstairs to explore the spa.

While we considered never leaving the suite, exiting the spa was even more challenging.

At the heart of the 21,500-square-foot spa was the most impressive pool I've ever seen. Unsurprisingly, the pool had views of the Dolomites. Half of it was indoors, and the other was outdoors. Guests could swim between the two through sliding glass doors.

The area also had loungers, daybeds, a water station with small snacks, a sauna, and a steam room.

A hallway led to another wing of the spa, which had two more indoor saunas, one at 185 degrees Fahrenheit and another at 158 degrees. There was a cold plunge, a silent room with a fireplace, and a tea lounge.

A door led outdoors to the fifth sauna, which was tucked inside a traditional South Tyrolean wooden house, and a second outdoor cold plunge.

While access to these amenities is included in the stay, the property's spa also offers treatments like massages, facials, scrubs, and manicures.

Here, guests discover the magic of saunas and cold plunging.

Beyond spa offerings, Forestis has a daily calendar of activities for guests.

My friend and I debated between meditation sessions and guided hikes. Ultimately, we decided to join the daily complimentary sauna ritual. Celtic practices inspire Forestis' spa, and perhaps this one encapsulated that the most.

Saro, a member of the spa team, led the ritual. We stepped inside the hot sauna with two other guests.

As steam rose from the rocks, Saro turned on powerful instrumental music, flicked open a large fan, and danced for the next 15 minutes. New essential oils were thrown onto the rocks every five minutes, enveloping the sauna in a new (typically pine) scent.

We focused on breathing as we were hit with waves of heat. Meditating through the hot air was relaxing, incredibly challenging, and rewarding.

As Saro wrapped up the ritual, he encouraged us all to cold plunge.

We felt both energized and relaxed, and after that, my friend and I were hooked.

Each night, a seven-course dinner was served.

A luxury resort wouldn't be complete without fine dining, and that's exactly what we discovered at Forestis.

The restaurant served three menus each evening: a seven-course Forestis menu, a seven-course detox menu, and an à la carte menu.

The menus change each day, and, of course, the dishes are inspired by the forest and local ingredients.

We dined on salads with South Tyrolean apples, vegan ravioli with fennel, gnocchi and herbs, duck breast, and an impressive array of desserts.

The dinner costs $140 and can be added to your stay.

In the morning, I indulged in the most extravagant breakfast buffet I've ever seen.

My friend and I spent an afternoon with pastry chef Irene, where we saw what local ingredients were being incorporated into the morning pastries and evening desserts. We infused the flavor of local hay in white chocolate syrup and made kipfel cookies.

The next morning, Irene's creations were on display in the most extravagant breakfast buffet I've ever seen.

I eyed eight different pastries, including gluten-free and dairy-free options. There were more than five freshly baked breads, five milk choices, five cheeses, seven types of smoked fish and cured meats, five types of butter, yogurt, fruits, cereal, and an entire room dedicated to fresh juice. Beyond that, there was a breakfast menu where I eyed hot dishes.

Again, it was tempting to never leave.

Outside, Forestis has direct access to ski slopes and summer hiking.

The property offers guided hikes and access to four bike routes.

A little chilly for hiking, my friend and I spent our mornings skiing on Plose Mountain. The inconveniences of skiing — traffic, long walks to the chair lift, and lugging gear — disappeared. Forestis has ski-in, ski-out access, along with a ski room to store gear.

My three nights at Forestis were a modern escape in nature — and I'm unsure I'll find a spa that can ever compare.

The stay at Forestis flashed by, but the property left a lasting impression.

In three days, I skied new mountains, soaked in stunning pools, and fell even more in love with Italy and the Dolomites.

And I still haven't forgotten the spa. A few weeks after returning home to Denver, my friend and I searched for nearby saunas — itching to recreate any semblance of Forestis' spa experience.

• In 2022, I flew business class on an Air New Zealand flight from Los Angeles to Auckland. 
• A year later, I took a 12-hour flight from Denver to Tokyo, where I sat in United's economy cabin.
• The two flights were, of course, vastly different, with meals setting the flights apart most.

I already had a glass of Champagne in my hand before economy-class passengers even got to their seats. 

If this was how my first business-class flight would start, I knew I was in for a treat. 

I was traveling with Air New Zealand from Los Angeles, California, to Auckland, New Zealand, and a long-haul flight meant airplane meals — something I was eager to experience in business class. From tender seafood to a chocolate tart, the meal met my wildest dreams. 

Six months later, I took a long-haul economy flight from Denver to Tokyo on United Airlines, where I ate food like a veggie stir fry and a Milk Bar cookie from a tray.

While traveling on a different airline, the experience showed me how dining can vastly differ between economy and business class.

Before I even considered food, meal service in both Air New Zealand's business cabin and United's economy cabin kicked off with a drink.

In business class, I had what felt like unlimited choices. Options included wine, beer, Champagne, soda, and various liquors.

In United's economy, options were limited. Wine, beer, and soda were complimentary, but a gin and tonic or any other alcoholic beverage came at a cost.

In business class, I spent 10 minutes eyeing a lengthy menu.

It outlined a choice between two appetizers, three main courses, and two desserts.

In economy, flight attendants shared the main course offerings as they pushed a meal cart to my seat.

The options on my Air New Zealand flight were descriptive. I could choose between "slow-cooked beef with polenta, orange, and lemon gremolata" or "Alaskan cod with saffron sauce."

In economy, there were two options: "chicken" or "veggie stir fry." I wondered what vegetables, what type of chicken, and what else would arrive on my plate.

But there wasn't time to ask questions. Instead, I blindly picked the veggie stir fry and was handed a tray of food.

Meanwhile, in business class, the meal was an experience. Before delivering my first course, a flight attendant placed a cloth napkin, salt and pepper, silverware, and an individual-sized olive oil on my table.

All the food in economy arrived at once.

Meanwhile, each course in business class was served separately.

The first thing I ate was bread. A flight attendant came around offering three types: sourdough, garlic, and olive. Naturally, I tried one of each.

I also had bread on my economy tray. While the bread wasn't nearly as fresh as the sourdough in business class, a pat of butter added flavor.

My first course in business class was a salad with stuffed grape leaves, quinoa, tomatoes, olives, and lettuce.

In economy, I had a salad with grains, raisins, and lettuce.

For my main course in business, I opted for the Alaskan cod. It was buttery, flaky, and shockingly delicious for airplane food.

For my main course in economy, a label outlined that my stir fry had seven types of vegetables. While it wasn't nearly as good as the cod, I easily devoured the entire tray of noodles.

The best part of both meals was, arguably, the dessert. In business, I had a rich chocolate tart served with a strawberry garnish.

In economy, I had a cookie filled with icing from the famous New York City bakery Milk Bar.

Beyond the food, other details set the meal service apart. In business, the cutlery was metal, the napkins were cloth, and the plates were ceramic. It felt like fine dining.

In economy, my food came out on a plastic tray with everything wrapped in plastic.

Another big difference was availability. On my two business-class flights, I could order anything on the menu without fear of the dish running out.

When I was sitting in economy, the flight attendants told me the pasta dish had run out when they reached my seat in the back of the plane. Later, they ran out of Coke, too.

Of course, if I'd been sitting in business class on United heading to Tokyo, I would've had many of the same perks I did on Air New Zealand.

According to United's website, meal service in business class includes a welcome glass of bubbly, liquor, a three-course meal, and snacks.

While the two meals were strikingly different, I devoured them both and was happily full — with plenty of time for a post-dinner nap.

• In the fall of 2022, I left Colorado in a Ram ProMaster to test out van life.
• I headed to Taos, New Mexico, where I spent my first night in a forest I'd camped in before.
• I thought the spot's familiarity would provide comfort, but the lack of cell service was unsettling.

I barreled down New Mexico State Road 150 in a Ram ProMaster.

Just as I reached Taos, New Mexico, the curves in the road were familiar, and I recognized brown national forest signs pointing to different campgrounds.

It was familiar for a reason. Five months earlier, I'd spent two nights camping on the same road in Carson National Forest with 10 friends.

This time, though, I was alone. It was my first night on a two-week road trip in a van rented from Native Campervans.

I was testing out van life and figured I'd ease my way into the trip by staying at a familiar campsite.

It was a mistake.

I realized too late that the lack of cell service left me on edge the entire night. An unfamiliar spot with service would've been the smarter choice for night one.

I should've prioritized cell service versus familiarity

I pulled into an empty Cuchillo Del Medio Campground. I looked down at my phone, and it had zero bars.

I expected this. My weekends camping and backpacking in Colorado often involve unsent text messages, unread emails, and no service.

I was prepared for this, too. I had a satellite phone and bear spray. But what I wasn't prepared for was how uneasy I would feel without service.

I shot over a satellite message letting my friends know I had safely arrived at my campsite for the night. Then, I was left with solitude.

I've spent plenty of days alone without service, but I was on edge my first night without the comfort of being able to easily call 911 or a friend. Sure, I could use the satellite phone, but it wasn't the most user-friendly, and I worried about needing to rely on it in an emergency.

Every sound outside rattled me: a loud truck on the road, voices from the campers who arrived later in the night, and branches breaking off a nearby tree. I constantly peeked out the van's windows and checked to see if anyone was lurking at my campsite.

I attempted to fall asleep but never quite reached the deep sleep my body craved.

On the other hand, if I'd had cell service, I'm convinced my mind would've allowed me the REM sleep I needed.

I knew I wanted moments without service, but night one wasn't the right time

A lack of cell service was something I craved with van life. I wanted to be in nature with fewer distractions.

I could read without accidentally winding up on TikTok, journal without needing to reply to a text, and soak in the outdoors without worrying about an unsent email.

It took a couple of days to get comfortable, and peaceful nights filled the rest of my itinerary.

Ultimately, a lack of service made me feel like I was diving headfirst into van life, and I realized too late that I wanted to slowly wade into the experience.

• I toured the secret rooms where pilots and flight attendants rest on long-haul Air New Zealand flights.
• The Boeing 777-300ER had a room with two beds for pilots and an eight-bed area for flight attendants.
• Both rest areas were tight, but I noticed that pilots had more amenities than flight attendants. 

For years, I boarded long-haul flights without thinking twice about where pilots and flight attendants rest.

That's not the case for aircraft designers, who build secret areas on planes where these airline workers can take their mandated breaks.

I finally had the chance to see these hidden rooms when I boarded a long-haul flight on Air New Zealand's Boeing 777-300ER in 2021.

I explored two rooms — one where pilots rest and another for flight attendants — and noticed that the pilots had more amenities than the flight attendants. Take a look. 

Before takeoff on an Air New Zealand flight from New Zealand to Los Angeles, I toured the hidden rest areas for pilots and flight attendants.

 

These crew areas are designed for one purpose: rest. Both flight attendants and pilots receive breaks during long-haul flights to refuel and recharge.

An Air New Zealand rep told Business Insider that the breaks, which are legally mandated and typically about two hours long, happen in shifts. That means there are always pilots in the cockpit and flight attendants in the cabin.

As I explored the two rooms, which are typically off-limits to passengers, I spotted some drastic differences — from size to amenities.

The first clear difference I spotted was the location of each area. Both rest areas are above passengers' seats but on opposite sides of the plane.

The doors to each area were identical and designed to blend into the galleys. This helps protect from unwanted visitors, an Air New Zealand flight attendant explained.

Both rooms also required a passcode.

Once the doors were unlocked, the entrances were also similar. A set of steep, small steps led up to each room.

Both sets of stairs were coated in a non-slip tread.

But this was where many of the similarities stopped. Once I entered the rooms, I noticed the pilots had more space than the flight attendants.

The rest area for pilots is designed for two people.

Eight flight attendants can fit in their designated rest area on the Boeing 777-300ERs.

The pilots also had multiple resting options. At the front of the room were two large leather recliners, and behind them were two beds.

The flight attendants only had bunk-style beds in their room.

The pilots also had an entertainment option. A TV similar to the ones travelers had in business class was stationed near each recliner.

I didn't see any TVs in the space for flight attendants. Instead, the entrance to their room had a mirror and some storage.

Both flight attendants and pilots had privacy curtains and bedding for their beds.

Everyone was also able to control the light in their rest area …

… as well as the temperature.

In the bedroom areas, I noticed that pilots had more amenities. For instance, there were multiple cupholders and overhead storage near their beds.

The flight attendants had two smaller storage compartments and a mirror.

Phones were stationed in both rooms so pilots and flight attendants could communicate with each other and their colleagues.

Each room also had a closet for uniforms. This way, the flight attendants' and pilots' clothing wouldn't get wrinkly while they slept.

Overall, it seemed to me that the pilots had more amenities. If I had to pick a place to rest, I'd much rather be a pilot with their comfy lounge chairs and TVs.

Ultimately, I was happier with the fewer responsibilities and the luxe amenities I had in my business-class seat below.