• Over the last 25 years, I've been on over a dozen multigenerational family vacations.
• I've learned planning early and keeping the limits and interests of those going in mind helps.
• It can also be helpful to book separate accommodations if possible.

My Roman holiday taught me that pillows are not just for sleeping. They're my coping method of choice, excellent at muffling frustrated screams while locked in the bathroom on a three-week family trip in the Italian capital.

I've done over a dozen multigenerational trips, from large reunions to birthday cruises and seaside anniversaries. Planning to avoid such moments — when you, the adult child, turn back into a sobbing five-year-old thanks to a triggering argument with your mother — is key to a successful family holiday.

Making golden holiday memories with the ones you love most requires someone to be the adult in the room, armed with strategies to avoid the pitfalls — about money, the itinerary, past grievances — and ensure that great experiences are created, instead of ones that belong in Dante's circle of hell.

A multigenerational vacation usually includes three (or more) generations of family members, but there are no hard and fast rules on inclusion. When you've got a large group with wide-ranging ages (anywhere from newborns to 80+), differing physical abilities, financial resources, and interests, trip organization can become an overwhelming and stressful juggling act. Planning and patience are key to surviving a multigenerational trip and ensuring it goes as smoothly as possible.

Plan in advance, and think about who is going

Our most recent multigenerational trip involved celebrating my parents-in-law's 60th wedding anniversary in the Belgian seaside town where they were married. We started planning the date one year in advance and worked backward on booking accommodation and flights, invitations, catering, the party venue, etc.

The organizational heavy lifting can be a group endeavor, but it's best to appoint some lead planners or go outside the family circle entirely and hire a travel agent to handle the booking complexities. "Going pro" can ease the load and save time and stress.

It's important to remember trip participants' ages, interests, and limitations. Our Belgian adventure included teenagers and octogenarians, blind uncles, and frail aunts. We planned day trips and activities to do together and apart, and this made the trip better for everyone.

Separate accommodations are helpful, if possible

I chalk that success up to experience. My first multigenerational trip with my parents and kids was to Honolulu, Hawaii nearly 25 years ago. Two kitchen-equipped apartments within easy walking access to the beach meant carefree time with our then-toddlers, who were solely interested in sandcastles, ice cream, and little else.

The separate accommodations allowed us space and independence so we could plan activities (naps, couple time) separately or together with ease.

Patience — with yourself and each other — is key

It's taken me a bit longer to figure out how to pack my patience — that key accessory so vital when traveling with others, when even the best relationships are tested by jet lag and ancient grievances.

Knowing the touchpoints that can trigger strong emotions and finding the patience and coping mechanisms — screaming into cushions, taking a walk — are necessary to cool situations that can ruin both vacations and family ties.

Talk about money before the trip

Conflict about money is one of the most contentious aspects of multigenerational trip planning. Unless you have a grandma or uncle with deep pockets, no one party is going to cover the entire cost of the trip. Honest conversations about who will pay for what — well ahead of the departure date — will help reduce arguments down the line.

Traveling with family is worth it. At its best, a multigenerational trip is an unforgettable opportunity to spend time with the people you love the most; for littles to enjoy priceless moments with grandparents; and for adult children to savor and foster relationships across generations. Just remember the pillow.

The American dream — like a beloved pair of pants you left in the dryer too long — is shrinking.

The idealized image of American life we know today was crystallized in the country's collective imagination in the 1930s. Since then, the idea that anyone can obtain a life that has the house with the white picket fence, 2.5 children, a lucrative career at an office that's a reasonable distance away, and the occasional trip to an enviable vacation spot has loomed large in nearly every facet of cultural and political life.

There's just one problem: The once expansive vision is getting smaller. Not only is it harder to grab a piece of it, like a bag of chips or a roll of toilet paper that has less substance every time you buy it, but even nominally achieving the dream is leaving people unsatisfied. Americans are having fewer kids, their houses are getting smaller, they're schlepping further to work, and they're spending less time on vacation.

Americans are taking notice of the diminishing returns. Among the 8,709 US adults surveyed by the Pew Research Center from April 8 to 14, 41% said that achieving the American dream was once possible but no longer. That's particularly true for younger Americans; 18- to 29-year-olds were the most likely to say that the American dream was never possible, and only 39% said that it's still possible. Their millennial counterparts felt similarly, though they were slightly more bullish on the possibility of the American dream.

At the same time, Americans are increasingly less satisfied with their personal lives, Gallup polling from January found. The share of Americans who are "very satisfied" with their personal lives has been plummeting, the poll found, and sits near record lows — other times it's gotten this bad were during the economic crisis of 2008 and its fallout in the following years. And even among those who might have achieved the American dream — higher earners with college degrees — life satisfaction has slipped.

Call it the shrinkflation of the American dream.

The central element of the American dream is owning a house. Having a roof over your head is the cornerstone of security and stability; research has found homeowners are less stressed than their renter counterparts, and beyond having a place that they can call their own, they have growing equity. But nowadays, the homes that many Americans live in rarely have enough room for a big dog — much less a picket fence.

In 2013, the median square footage of a new single-family housing unit was about 2,460. In 2015, new homes peaked at about 2,470 square feet — and then spent the next six years shrinking. In 2021, homes started to slowly get bigger again, and then they once again constricted. By 2023, the figure had fallen to about 2,180 square feet. An analysis by the National Association of Home Builders found that the share of single-family homes built with two bedrooms or fewer hit its highest level since 2012 — and the share of new homes built with four bedrooms fell to its lowest level since 2012.

Of course, homes getting a little smaller isn't necessarily a bad thing — many advocates for increasing the housing supply argue that the dedication to giant homes has made it tougher to build the number of new units that the country needs. But shrinking homes are coupled with another biting reality: Americans are paying more for less. In the same period that Americans have seen their homes shrink, home prices have grown by nearly $200,000. The median listing price per square foot was $127 in 2016; by 2024, that rose to $224 — meaning Americans were shelling out more per square foot, even as their square footage decreased. By one measure, Americans now need to work 110 hours a month to be able to afford their mortgages — meaning mortgages eat up the bulk of their earnings.

With those prices, it's no wonder first-time homebuyers are older than ever. The National Association of Realtors found that the median age of first-time homebuyers hit 38 in 2024, a record high. In 1981, the median age of a first-time buyer was 29; in 2014, it was 31.

It's not all peaches and rainbows for American renters, either. The median rent price in the US is $2,035, Zillow found. Rent.com, meanwhile, found that median rental asking prices hit about $1,619 in October. That's nearly a $300 increase from May 2019. So if renters are paying more, surely they're still at least getting some bang for their buck? Nope, apartments are getting smaller, too. In 2016, the median square footage of a new unit in a building that had two or more units was 1,105 square feet. Apartments have been shrinking since then: In 2023, new units were clocking in at a median of 1,020 square feet — and the measure reached its lowest recorded level in 2021 as housing prices and demand soared.

A house is just a house until there are people in it; only then, the saying goes, is it a home. But increasingly, American homes are occupied by fewer people. Not only is there a slight rise in single people buying a house, but also the pitter-patter of babies' feet is becoming less common in the hallways of American homes these days. The share of homebuyers without a child under 18 in the house rose to a new high of 73%. That comes as Americans are having fewer kids: The average number of births per woman in the US has fallen from nearly four in 1960 to 1.7 in 2022.

It should come as no surprise that Americans are having fewer children given the economic and social pressures working against them. If it's hard for anyone to break into the ranks of homeowners, it's even more difficult for parents. Housing costs aren't the only deterrent, young parents are also floundering amid rising childcare costs and the loss of the social connections that are critical to raising kids. At the same time, more Americans seem to be on board with choosing to go child-free. DINKs — double-income, no-kid couples — have been on the cultural rise. But just because it's harder for people with kids and more acceptable to forgo them doesn't mean that people are giving up on starting a family. Many Americans want to have children or have even more kids, but it's out of reach.

Karen Benjamin Guzzo, a professor at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill who's researched the gap between the number of children Americans intend to have versus their ultimate childbearing, told me that having kids is often seen as the "last step" in accomplishing the American dream. You go to college, you line up a good job, you get married, you buy a house, and then you fill it with kids. There's a problem, though. "Every step along the way has become less and less predictable," she said.

Guzzo's research has found, in part, that Americans still expect to have children — they just don't actually have them. The way Guzzo describes it is many Americans want kids, but with an asterisk: They want kids if they can find a good partner, a good job with family leave and enough pay to afford childcare, and so on.

"People need to feel confident that the next 25 years of their lives and the world in which their children will be raised and growing and becoming adults on their own. They need to feel confident about those," Guzzo said. "And we do not do a good job right now in the United States of making people feel confident about their futures."

Part of the American dream is the ability to actually enjoy it. You can come home for dinner, spend a nice evening with your family, and maybe enjoy some ice cream in front of the TV before heading to bed at a reasonable hour.

Unfortunately, for many people, the free time is getting sapped by a mind-numbing commute. The average travel time to work in 1990 was 22.4 minutes one way. By 2023, it rose to 26.8 minutes. That may not sound like a lot, but that adds up to nearly 4.5 hours a week just commuting to work, or about 10 days a year, assuming they went in every workday. Even if they're going into the office three days a week, that's still nearly 2.7 hours a week commuting, or the equivalent of almost 6 full days a year. Meanwhile, in 1990, Americans spent just about 3.7 hours a week commuting — about 44 minutes less a week. That's a whole episode of "Real Housewives." Even on a small scale, research has found that every minute added to a commute can reduce one's satisfaction with both their job and their leisure time. Most Americans commuting are doing so by car, which can also weigh on workers' mental health — and how well they're sleeping.

And as more Americans have moved away from urban cores — perhaps in pursuit of buying a house in cheaper areas — they're living farther from work. Young families, in particular, have fled larger urban areas and are finding themselves in the farthest reaches of suburbia. If you want the American dream of that larger, cheaper house, you might be paying for it in minutes stuck behind the wheel.

Reveling in the American dream also includes unwinding away from that house and job. But even as more Americans have access to paid vacation, that doesn't mean they're taking it. In July 1980, over 10 million working Americans were on vacation. At the height of the pandemic, that number had halved. And even as more Americans went on vacation in July post-2020, the number of workers vacationing in July has essentially plateaued over the past few years.

As The Washington Post found in an extensive analysis of eroding vacation time, some of that might be chalked up to another form of shrinkflation: Workers saving their vacation days for when they're feeling sick. In a very Dickensian twist, Americans might not be going on vacation because they're too busy being sick or caring for their ill kids instead.

All of this is not to say that the American dream has gone extinct, but there's a marked shift from the idea that things will get better for each successive generation. In a country where growth, expansion, and constantly improving your lot — and your family's lot — are North Stars, a diminishing and sickly American dream is a bit of an existential downer.

After all, in a March 2023 survey of 1,019 American adults by The Wall Street Journal and NORC, 78% of respondents said they were not confident that life would be better for their kids' generation. The share not confident their kids' lives will be better has soared over the past few decades; in 2000 just 42% said the same. In short: Many Americans are feeling like the dream is slipping through their fingers.

Guzzo said that we're seeing a bifurcation of the American dream. For the ultrawealthy, the ability to accumulate the markers of the dream has never been easier. The top 1% holds just over 13% of all real estate by dollar value in the US, while the bottom 50% holds just about 10%. And, as the Federal Reserve Bank of Atlanta recounted in its December Beige Book round-up, lower- and middle-income consumers are scaling back their vacation plans; they're renting homes for multiple families and eating in rather than splashing out on hotels or fancy restaurants. Instead, the strength in tourism spending comes from those higher-income consumers exploring and going on cruises. For Americans in the middle, those who might have the college degree and career that could set them on that trajectory, the dream is still possible, though it may come later in life. But Guzzo said others, especially younger men without college degrees, feel the American dream has been pulled out from beneath them.

At the same time, there's a bittersweet parallel running alongside the shrinking of the American dream. For decades, things like homeownership or formal recognition of marriage were out of grasp — and, in some cases, expressly forbidden — for many marginalized groups. It's only in recent history that LGBTQ+ Americans and Americans of color have been able to somewhat catch up to their straight and white peers. But now that the American dream is within reach for these people, it's already shrinking.

Juliana Kaplan is a senior labor and inequality reporter on Business Insider's economy team.

Airbnb has its sights set on global domination. In earnings calls this year, its cofounder and CEO, Brian Chesky, mapped out what he sees as the short-term-rental giant's biggest expansion markets: Mexico and Brazil in the Americas; in Asia, Japan, India, South Korea, and China, for Chinese residents looking to travel outside the country; and further into Germany, Italy, and Spain in Europe, where it already has a stronghold.

What's connecting these scattered countries? Dave Stephenson, the chief business officer at Airbnb, says they're all places where the company's footprint is small compared to the amount of money people spend on travel there. The company is working on ways "to show up locally relevant," he says, "so that people think of why it's better to travel on Airbnb." Stephenson maintains that Airbnb, despite its name recognition, has a smaller footprint than hotels. The company says it has 8 million active listings globally, compared to, by one estimate, some 17 million hotel rooms. Airbnb aims to close that gap, continent by continent.

There's something else tying this far-flung strategy together: Airbnb is looking for new frontiers at a time when cities around the world are cracking down on the company and other short-term rental platforms, largely in response to complaints that short-term rentals draw (often unruly) tourists and displace locals. Barcelona, which has an estimated 20,000 Airbnb listings, has said it will ban all short-term rentals by 2028. Málaga will stop giving out new short-term-rental permits in dozens of neighborhoods. New York enacted a law in 2023 that wiped nearly all short-term rentals off the map. Other cities, like London and Paris, have been enforcing strict limits on the number of nights each year that a property can be listed for short-term renting.

For Airbnb, terra incognita looks more appealing as some of its terra firma becomes less firm.

When Airbnb was new and growing rapidly in the 2010s, there was little regulation on short-term rentals. Many did not anticipate how homeowners, and even renters, would turn Airbnb into overnight miniature business empires. But complaints mounted over the years. Residents reported that short-term renters often had parties that brought trash, noise, and general chaos to buildings and neighborhoods, even after the company barred guests from hosting large gatherings. Locals also blamed the lucrative rentals for pushing up housing prices. Housing costs are influenced by many factors, but in 2020, researchers found that Airbnb growth in the median ZIP code accounted for an increase of $9 in monthly rent and $1,800 in home prices, making up one-fifth of rent growth and one-seventh of property value increases. A report by the New York City comptroller found that between 2009 and 2016, 9.2% of the jump in rental rates could be tied to Airbnb.

At this point, dozens of local governments around the world have enacted laws regulating short-term rentals that are bespoke to their cities. This gives places where Airbnb is looking to expand the advantage of seeing how various regulations have started to affect housing availability elsewhere, should they want to move proactively. "Even though those places that Airbnb could be pushing into may not have a [regulatory] framework, there's at least these examples where governments have recognized the need to protect housing and implemented successful ways of regulating it," says Murray Cox, founder of Inside Airbnb, which scrapes Airbnb data to show its footprint in cities around the world. Cities could take approaches from other playbooks, such as requiring Airbnb to share data with local officials, zoning short-term rentals to more commercial neighborhoods, or allowing hosts to rent out primary residences a limited number of nights a year.

For Airbnb, the patchwork regulation around the world is both "a problem and an opportunity," says Cox. If rentals are curtailed in Paris, the company could look to expand to nearby cities or rural parts of France where there are fewer regulations. For Airbnb, that might mean moving into new countries. "They either can't grow or they're declining in cities or some parts" of their core markets, Cox says. "The only way that they can either maintain their revenues or grow is to push into other markets."

Airbnb isn't opposed to rules outright. If regulations are in place before the company expands to a new market, it could make the process simpler for hosts and guests and spare Airbnb from having to pivot and wipe tens of thousands of listings from its platform in one swoop after a new law passes. "We really do welcome sensible regulation," Stephenson tells me. "In a sensible, reasonable way, it works quite well." Airbnb is still pushing back against what it believes are overreaching regulations, like those in New York City. And despite the regulations, Airbnb is growing. Its revenue is up 10% year over year, and the number of nights booked grew, along with experiences, which include activities provided by local businesses and tour guides, by 8%.

But Airbnb's challenges don't stop at the regulations. It must also get people around the world to buy in. "Each country is going to have its own dynamics," Jamie Lane, the senior vice president of analytics and chief economist at AirDNA, tells me. In some countries, hosting strangers in your home wouldn't be culturally acceptable. Lane also says there are local competitors to Airbnb in some places "that have been impactful and made it hard for them to compete."

Those challenges are partially why Airbnb pulled out of hosting in China in 2022, wiping out 150,000 listings there. For one, the country's strict travel regulations around COVID-19 lasted longer than measures taken by most other nations, which created a drag on travel bookings. But Airbnb struggled to compete with Chinese companies offering short-term rentals long before that. The homegrown alternatives there included Tujia, which was designed to attract Chinese travelers specifically by anticipating peak travel times and rates, Melissa Yang, the company's cofounder, told CNN several years ago.

Chesky is more confident that Airbnb can win over the hearts and minds of the masses anywhere it goes. "Airbnb pretty much resonates pretty equally everywhere once there's the awareness," he told investors in a call earlier this year. "In fact, I could argue that Airbnb might resonate better in Asia because there's a younger travel population that's not predisposed to hotels, and they're on social media. And we are disproportionately on social media versus our competitors. So I'm very, very bullish about that."

While the company isn't telegraphing its expansion strategy in every country, one of its most obvious moves began in Japan this fall. Airbnb ran an ad in English last year promoting travel in Kyoto, but it ramped up its Japanese ads in October. It's looking to court young Japanese travelers who want to take weekend trips, showing photos of a family traveling to a sleek, modern cabin in a wooded area, where they sing karaoke. Stephenson says Airbnb has also learned that local travelers want proximity to onsens, Japanese hot springs and bathing facilities, so listings there now show nearby onsens.

Elsewhere, Airbnb has been implementing payment methods preferred by locals. The company recently added KaKao Pay in South Korea and Vipps in Norway, among dozens of other options. It may seem like a small step, but Airbnb thinks meeting people where and how they pay will make the service more appealing.

Researchers are closely watching Airbnb's ongoing spread. Bianca Tavolari, a researcher and member of the advisory board of the Global Observatory of Short-Term Rentals, a group of Latin American organizations focused on housing, says Brazil has lagged in regulating short-term rentals, though a court ruled last year that hosts must have explicit consent from property owners to list apartments or condos as short-term rentals. Airbnb shares some tourism trend information with local officials through its city portal, but researchers like Tavolari still have questions about Airbnb's full impact. "We are in the dark," she tells me. Yet "cities are seeing it as a great opportunity," particularly those that depend heavily on tourism dollars, she says, and thinking less about the long-term costs to residents.

Cox says he's "hopeful that some of these locations that Airbnb is planning to push to have already started thinking about" how they'll handle its growth. If Chesky's hypothesis is right, Airbnb could continue to spread rapidly once people in other parts of the world get used to couch surfing or navigating a hidden lockbox to let themselves into their rentals. Cities should be ready before more tourists start packing their bags.

Amanda Hoover is a senior correspondent at Business Insider covering the tech industry. She writes about the biggest tech companies and trends.

• When Victoria Lamson's son was 10 months old, she took him on a trip to Ireland, the UK, and France.
• She and her husband planned ahead, investing in a sturdy stroller and calling hotels in advance.
• For the most part, they felt Europe was more child-friendly than the US.

When my husband and I first announced that we were bringing our 10-month-old son with us on a two-week European vacation, we got very mixed reviews.

Some friends and family said our timing was perfect: Deacon wasn't walking or talking yet, so it'd be easier to travel with him. Others thought it was a big mistake. Lugging around a stroller and dealing with tantrums — all while navigating unfamiliar cities — seemed miserable to them. Plus, they told us, Deacon would be too young to remember any of it. What was the point?

But even before I became pregnant, Mike and I agreed that we didn't want to isolate ourselves like so many newborn parents do. While we didn't know what to expect with our first child, we wanted to include him in our normal travel plans rather than living a strictly child-focused lifestyle.

We started small. One of our first excursions was a road trip from our home in San Francisco to visit family in LA when Deacon was two months old. As he got a little older, we saw that Deacon is a very chill individual. He rarely fussed and easily napped in his stroller.

So in 2019, we planned a trip to Ireland, the UK, and France. While it required a little more planning and was slower-paced than vacations before parenthood, it became one of our favorite ones.

A little prep made the trip smoother

When we went on our LA road trip, we invested in a Babyzen Yoyo stroller, made by a French brand. While it cost around $450, which is on the pricey end, it was worth it: it smoothly rolls over cobblestone streets and easily fits into an overhead bin. Six years later, we still use it with our second baby.

To set us up for success, I called some services in advance. Most long-haul flights offer limited bassinets for babies in rows with extra space, but those seats usually need to be reserved ahead of time. I also reached out to our hotels to make sure they had cribs they could bring out, and a car service in Dublin — our first destination — provided us with a car seat suitable for an infant.

The only unexpected snag was using my breast pump abroad. Because Deacon was older and already eating solid foods, my milk supply was lower and I didn't really need the pump as much. Still, as a first-time mom, I brought it because it's recommended by pediatricians to continue pumping for a full year and I wanted to do everything right.

I had a European outlet adapter, but I forgot about the wattage differences. When I plugged the pump in, it got completely fried. Luckily, I had Deacon with me for those few weeks and could make more stops to breastfeed him.

Europe was more child-friendly than home

Overall, Europe was very kid-friendly. London was easy to stroll through and full of parks we could stop at with Deacon.

We also didn't feel out of place bringing a baby to an Irish pub, even on St. Patrick's Day. Culturally, it's more of a norm to bring kids to bars and other "adult" spaces in Europe than it is in the US.

Out of everywhere we went, Paris was the hardest place to navigate; due to the city's style of architecture, we had to climb spiral staircases in bistros and brasseries when changing diapers. Still, the culture made us feel welcome. Our hotel surprised us with a beautiful crib and a teddy bear for Deacon.

It was such a stark difference from San Francisco. More often than not, there isn't a changing table in the bathroom. And when you can find one, it's only in the women's restroom, as if it's not also a father's responsibility to care for his child.

In contrast, we went to a very old restaurant in a small Irish seaside town. When I walked into the tiny bathroom, I was surprised to find fold-away changing tables in all the stalls.

Europe's positive attitude toward children and families is such a big draw. Even slight accommodations make such a huge difference when we travel.

We did everything we wanted

The experience taught us that we don't have to put our lives on hold with kids. When Deacon got sleepy on the trip, we just bundled him up in his stroller and used the opportunity to relax at a cafe.

After Europe, we went to a family timeshare in Tulum, Mexico at the end of 2019 — another wonderful vacation. In 2022, we took Deacon with us on a road trip around Atlanta, Savannah, and Charleston.

While it's tougher to travel with two kids now — our 17-month-old daughter is less easygoing than Deacon was at that age — we still take staycations and go out with our children.

Looking back, going to Europe was more fun because Deacon was with us, not in spite of it. It felt so special to have him with us, and we'll always hold on to those memories of early parenthood very fondly.

• My extended family went to Bali and stayed at luxurious hotels with perks and one simpler one.
• The more basic hotel that cost less and had fewer perks was our favorite — it felt more authentic.
• I've realized that my family doesn't need all the bells and whistles to have a great vacation.

In 2022, my entire extended family decided to head to Bali for Christmas. The group of 18 of us consisted of five different families from across the globe.

Choosing the right accommodation for such a massive party was tricky, and everyone had differing opinions about where we should stay.

We ended up mixing it up and staying at three different locations — but one was a clear favorite for my family.

We started with the fancier resorts, which were amazing but didn't feel special

Our first stop was the Bali Mandira Beach Resort and Spa, which came highly recommended by our friends.

It's a short drive from the Bali Ngurah Rai International Airport and has great reviews, averaging about 4.6 stars on Google.

Bali Mandira has everything you could want in a family-friendly resort: a kids' club, mind-blowing buffet breakfast, multiple swimming pools (including one for toddlers), a waterslide, and a swim-up bar for the adults.

As we checked into the resort, we were greeted by friendly staff offering virgin cocktails and refreshing hand towels.

The next few days were very relaxing. We floated in the kid-friendly pool, drank our fair share of cocktails at the swim-up bar, ate ourselves silly at the buffet, and sampled a few of the local restaurants nearby.

The resort felt peaceful with sprawling, immaculately tended gardens, yet it was still close to the action. We could step outside and explore the markets around Legian, then retreat back into the Bali Mandira oasis.

Next, we headed to the five-star Holiday Inn Resort Bali Nusa Dua, which overlooks Benoa Bay. Again, its reviews were exceptional — it has an average of about 4.6 stars on Google.

It had plenty of facilities for the little ones and the kids' club was pretty amazing with a slide, climbing wall, costumes, arts and crafts, computer zone, ball pit, and photo booth.

But after a few days, we started to feel like we were missing out on experiencing the real Bali. After all, the Holiday Inn is a chain resort. Chains are supposed to provide reliable, consistent experiences, not necessarily localized ones.

Both resorts felt quite Westernized, which I know many travelers enjoy. But for us, the many all-inclusive comforts and easy seclusion made us feel like we could've been back home in Australia rather than in Indonesia.

Our final stop was our favorite

After five days, we were well and truly ready for a change of scenery, so we headed to Green Field Hotel and Restaurant in Ubud.

This quaint three-star hotel ended up being our favorite of the trip, which came as a bit of a surprise as it was also the cheapest.

Our spacious double room had gold paint, mosquito nets, and ornate wooden furniture — it definitely felt more Balinese. The hotel was also perfect location-wise.

We were a 10-minute walk from Ubud's famous Monkey Forest, and the hotel offered a free shuttle service around town. This was super handy for so many of our family members, who ranged in age from four months to 78 years old.

There wasn't a swim-up bar or kids' club, but the hotel had two swimming pools, with one overlooking nearby rice paddies. We found it magical to float in a pool surrounded by a cacophony of insects with the fields nearby.

We've realized that, sometimes, simple is best

Although our accommodation in Ubud didn't have the same bells and whistles as the other resorts, our children loved it.

We made lasting memories sitting on the veranda listening to the insects at sunrise, watching locals tend to the rice paddies, and chatting with the friendly staff.

For some travelers, a massive, Westernized resort that feels comfortably like home can be more appealing. But we've realized our little family prefers places where we can immerse ourselves in some local culture over luxurious ones where you hardly need to leave the property.

• I took my girlfriend on a luxury trip to Morocco but only had to pay $250 out of pocket.
• Using points, we stayed in beautiful five-star hotels throughout the trip.
• I'm so glad I learned how to maximize my credit-card points for travel.

My girlfriend always dreamed of going to Morocco for her 40th birthday.

Travel is something we've connected on early in our relationship. We took several domestic trips to states she'd never visited before to ensure we didn't rip each other's heads off before traveling to the other side of the world.

Unfortunately, the coronavirus pandemic stopped us in our tracks. However, while we were stuck inside in 2020, I started learning all about the world of credit-card points and reward miles.

There are a lot of videos and resources out there for free, depending on your needs, but I personally found the online course system Tricks to Travel to be useful.

It taught me how to maximize points and miles using the best credit cards for my spending habits and gave me a great base of knowledge for getting the best deals on luxury travel.

With two full years to build up points before her big birthday, I turned earning strategically into a game so I could make her dream trip a reality — and more luxurious than I ever imagined.

Booking our business-class flights was so gratifying

I knew I wanted to fly business or first class. I took to the private points and miles group I'm in from my Tricks to Travel class to ask if anyone had been to Morocco recently.

Several people told me to book business class on Royal Air Maroc, so I started searching for flights. I found a great roundtrip option with fully reclining business-class seats that cost me 115,000 miles and $93.18 in taxes per person.

My girlfriend had never flown business class before, so I was especially excited to surprise her with this.

I had to get creative to dig up the points for our luxury accommodations

Next up was our hotel accommodations — her only request was to stay in a riad in Marrakesh.

That made things a little more difficult since most of the elaborate houses-turned-hotels are boutique-style and don't have a points system I could tap into.

I decided to start with an easier task by planning the second half of the trip, which would be in Tangier.

Hilton Tangier Al Houara Resort and Spa is a lovely five-star hotel, and I happen to have diamond status with Hilton Honors, so it worked perfectly for us.

When I booked with points, I was even able to get our fifth night free.

Our five-night stay in a standard room cost us 156,000 points (no extra taxes). However, with my status, I also got a complimentary upgrade to a suite and free breakfast.

After a few months of researching the best way to book a riad with points, the travel gods threw me a bone: Marriott added a riad to its portfolio.

Luckily, the chain had the same great rewards deal — when you book with points, you get the fifth night for free.

I booked a six-night stay for 120,000 points plus about $27 in taxes.

We had an amazing time without breaking the bank

Earlier this year, my girlfriend's dream trip became a reality.

Before learning about points, I never would've been able to make this trip as amazing as it was. But after a couple of years of building up my rewards portfolio, I only paid about $250 for 12 days in the lap of luxury.

Points and miles have completely changed how I travel, and I look forward to booking more business-class flights and five-star hotels on future trips.

• My husband and I just took our teenagers to an all-inclusive resort for the first time.
• I'm the primary vacation planner, so overall, I enjoyed the ease of a family all-inclusive vacation.
• We spent time together when we wanted to, but it was also easy for us to do our own thing.

My husband and I have traveled to several all-inclusive resorts together, but we'd never taken our kids to one until recently. While our family's decision to homeschool leaves lots of travel opportunities open to us, an all-inclusive vacation just hadn't lined up until we decided to visit Beaches Turks and Caicos with our 14- and 16-year-old earlier this month.

As the parent who does the bulk of the planning when we vacation, I suspected visiting an all-inclusive resort with my kids would be a welcome break from the hustle and bustle of being the travel coordinator. Eager to test my theory, we chose a Beaches resort because it's the sister resort to Sandals, where my husband and I spent a week earlier in the summer and loved it. Here's what it was like.

Little planning was required on my part

Like most all-inclusive resorts, everything at Beaches Turks and Caicos was taken care of for us. With more than 20 restaurants on the property, there was always something for everyone at mealtime. Excursions could be booked easily through the resort, and the front desk staff helped us book a taxi into town. There were pools, miles of white sand beach, and a schedule of activities like karaoke and trivia. There were also kids clubs, including one for teens in my kids' age group.

I'm known to develop quite the busy itinerary when we travel on our own, so being able to show up at an all-inclusive and play things by ear felt like a welcome respite.

We could all do our own thing and still found time to spend together

Because there were pools, activities, and teen clubs, my family was flexible about splitting up and doing our own thing when we wanted. My son, more of an introvert, enjoyed watching movies on the television in our room or reading during his downtime, while my daughter made time to work on her tan and float on rafts.

My husband and I were able to sneak off for cocktails and mocktails or early-morning beach walks while the kids did their own thing. But we also scheduled mandatory family time, like excursions or nightly dinners together, to get an even split of independent activities and family bonding.

There were plenty of restaurants, so we could find other options when necessary

I'm a big researcher of restaurants, and it's happened more than once that we've traveled to a specific restaurant on vacation, only to be disappointed. Since there are tons of restaurant options available at an all-inclusive, we found it easier to pivot and choose the best restaurant for our family during our sit-down meals together.

Case in point: After being seated at the on-property hibachi restaurant, we realized the experience was going to be much louder and more chaotic than we were in the mood for. We politely excused ourselves before ordering and headed to a French bistro instead, where we enjoyed a quiet meal and some great conversation with our kids.

Booking excursions through the resort made seeing the island incredibly easy

There was an on-site desk where guests could book excursions to see more of the island of Providenciales. On our trip, we chose a three-hour catamaran tour that took us to an island filled with iguanas, snorkeling, and deep into the ocean for swimming.

The ease of booking things through the resort was lovely, and it was relaxing for me as a mom to just show up, sunscreen and towels in hand, and go on an adventure with my family without lots of pre-planning. Because our boat tour was coordinated through the resort, there were even food and drinks offered on board, all included with the trip, so I didn't even need to think about packing snacks.

Still, we took some time to leave the resort for an adventure on our own

We did head off-property once to explore the downtown area of Providenciales. Years ago, I read about Potcake Place, a dog rescue on the island, and wanted to volunteer to walk one of its rescue pups for a morning. We took a taxi from the resort lobby into town and signed up to walk a pup and explore the town, and it was a true highlight for our family.

Traveling with my teenage daughter usually needs to include pricey iced lattes and shopping in town, so this was a great way to check some of her favorite activities off the list while helping out and bonding with a potcake puppy.

As a sober person, I liked the vibe of a family resort

I've been living an alcohol-free lifestyle for over a year, and have visited an adults-only all-inclusive resort as a sober person along with my husband, who drinks alcohol. While adults-only resorts have a definite nightlife vib, with open bars and tipsy late-night entertainment, I found the family all-inclusive vibe to be much less alcohol-focused.

Sure, the resort was still all-you-can-drink, but I felt much less pressure to be out late with a mocktail in hand since I had my kids with me. Instead, we watched movies some evenings in our room, and I went to bed early with a good book.

Overall, I'd visit an all-inclusive resort with my kids again

While there were some cons to our resort — like long restaurant wait times and staff that often gave us incorrect information or seemed overworked and exhausted — there were plenty of happy moments, too. Overall, visiting an all-inclusive resort with my teenagers was a great experience, one that required little to no planning on my part once our flights and resort were booked. It allowed me to focus on being present with my kids.

I know my time taking family vacations with my teens is limited, as soon they'll be off to college or settled into their own lives. Taking a trip to Beaches Turks and Caicos with them now, while they're still able to travel the world with us, was a lot of fun, even with some stressful moments.

• I've learned to spot red flags while booking a lot of vacation rentals online during my travels.
• Diving deep into reviews provides the opportunity to learn from previous guests.
• I'm skeptical of listings with photos that use wide-angle lenses to make spaces look bigger.

I've been traveling full-time for the past two years.

In that time, I've stayed in more than 40 unique rental units for a total of more than 380 nights across 16 countries. (The other nights were spent on cruises, hotels, or at friends' houses.)

A never-ending vacation may sound relaxing but it means I'm always looking for my next accommodation and hoping it's good.

I've stayed in gorgeous farmhouse lofts, high-rise city apartments, and desert hideaways — but I've also booked a few duds along the way.

Here are five questions I use to spot red flags when booking lodging, no matter which website or app I use.

Do the photos reflect reality?

I love high-quality photos, but I try not to let them cloud my judgement. Great staging doesn't always equal a comfortable stay.

Plus, a good photographer can make a home seem more spacious than it really is, especially if they use the right lens.

When looking at listing photos, I analyze whether the furniture looks comically elongated, like a reflection from a funhouse mirror. It could be a sign the photo was taken with a wide-angle lens that's making the space look bigger.

I'm also apprehensive to book a place if I can't decipher its layout by looking at the photos.

How high is the overall rating?

I use overall ratings to quickly weed out rentals. In my experience, staying somewhere with less than four-and-a-half stars can be risky — especially if I'm booking a month-long stay.

If enough guests are providing ratings less than five stars, there's likely something amiss. (Airbnb can even remove hosts who have an average of less than four-and-a-half stars.)

Reviews can also yield other red flags. I find crowdsourced feedback sheds light on important items like cleanliness, rental location, and outside noise.

It can also be risky to book a place that doesn't have any reviews yet. Instead, I save unreviewed listings I like and check them until others have stayed and left feedback.

If you want to book a place with no reviews, I recommend at least looking into the host. Do they have other properties with tons of positive reviews? That might be a good sign.

Are all the reviews old?

It can be difficult to trust the accuracy of a rental listing if the latest review is over two years old.

After all, I've read horror stories about trusting travelers staying in rentals that they didn't realize had been vacant and uncared for for months.

If a nice-looking rental only has old reviews I'll sometimes just save it and check on it until someone writes about a more recent stay.

How has the host responded to feedback?

There is no greater red flag than when a host berates a previous guest for leaving feedback.

How an owner responds to reviews is one of the most important items I look for. If they disrespect or talk down to guests I'm staying clear of their property.

Are the listed amenities available?

I use search filters to find lodging with my desired amenities, but before booking, I perform a keyword search of the reviews for those specific features.

For houses with a jacuzzi or pool, I look to see if recent guests have mentioned any issues with it. There's nothing worse than showing up to swim, only to find out the pool has been drained for repairs.

For Wi-Fi, I check to see if anyone has complained about unreliable service. Whatever experience others have had, I might expect the same issues during my stay.

Additionally, I share in my introduction message to the host that I'm looking forward to the specific amenity. That way, they know I'm serious about that item and expect it to be available and in working order.