• My husband and I celebrated our fifth anniversary and my 40th birthday with a trip to Cancún.
• However, we didn't feel comfortable leaving our 4-year-old daughter at home, so we took her with us.
• We also brought my mother-in-law along to help us keep an eye on her, and we had an amazing time.

As the sun rose over the Caribbean Sea, I stepped out of my beachfront suite and settled into a lounge chair beside my private plunge pool, listening to the waves crash.

I snuggled up in my complimentary bathrobe and enjoyed my mandatory morning fuel — a coffee from the in-room Nespresso machine — taking in the calm of the first day of a weeklong vacation celebrating my 40th birthday and fifth wedding anniversary.

The views were serene. The atmosphere was peaceful. The company — to some — was unexpected. Next to me, wrapped in a similar bathrobe, sat my mother-in-law.

My husband and I wanted to take a trip to celebrate our anniversary, but didn't want to leave our daughter behind

Since having my 4-year-old daughter, traveling has taken a backseat to motherhood. In my 20s, I traveled as often as possible, from the gumless streets of Singapore to the iconic safaris of South Africa.

These days, my husband and I travel less often or choose to visit new countries with our toddler in tow. Although we're always glad to create these memories with her, we knew we wanted something different to celebrate my 40th birthday and our fifth anniversary.

Some people might have chosen to leave their kid at home so they could celebrate with a lavish party or intimate dinner for two. However, we didn't feel comfortable being away from our preschooler for a week in another country.

So, we brought her along and invited my mother-in-law with us to help keep an eye on our daughter and make sure we got some alone time.

The four of us headed on an all-inclusive vacation in Cancún, where we stayed in a two-bedroom enclave suite, complete with three beds, two bathrooms, and 1,570 square feet of shared, yet separate space.

Having that much room kept us from feeling crammed and confined, and with a living room in between the bedrooms, privacy was never an issue.

The arrangement granted us a nice mix of private and family time

We chose to stay at the Hilton Cancún Mar Caribe because it advertises itself as a family hotel. My husband and I spent days wading around the splash pool, rooftop pool, or plunge pool with our daughter.

We took advantage of the resort's dedicated kids areas and activities, including Beach Bunch — the kids' club complete with a playground, indoor playroom, and crafts. And at night, we attended the live shows.

Some days, we ate together at the family-friendly buffet, but on certain occasions, my husband and I dined "date-night-style" while our daughter and my mother-in-law had their own dinner or playdates back in the suite.

It was a great opportunity for them to enjoy quality time together while my husband and I celebrated our milestone anniversary.

My husband and I also relaxed together at the spa, delighting in a refreshing hydrotherapy session that included a sauna, steam room, cold plunge, hot tub, and sensory pool.

And even though my mother-in-law took care of our daughter and brought her to the kids' club, we made sure she had her own time alone at the spa as well.

Overall, we all had a great time together

During this trip, the old saying, "two's company, three's a crowd," came to mind.

And yes, there were times when it felt like we were staying at my husband's childhood home with his mother (or our daughter) occupying the space between us. Plus, some moments meant just for us became a group affair.

But then, we'd all look at the view of the beach while eating our in-room dining — that none of us had to prepare, on beds that none of us had to make, in rooms that none of us had to clean — and that feeling would dissipate.

Having my mother-in-law and kid on this trip was certainly unconventional, nontraditional, and maybe even downright weird to some. However, it granted us the opportunity to travel with some peace of mind.

• Lisa Desai moved her family of eight from Florida to Barbados.
• The mom said the kids have more freedom and independence living on the island.
• There are some cons, she added, but they are far outweighed by the pros.

This story is based on an interview with Lisa Desai, 46, founder and CEO of a facility management corporation that operates remotely in her adopted country, Barbados. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Our twins were approaching 14 when my husband, Ebrahim, 59, and I decided to move them and our four younger kids from Hutchinson Island North, Florida, to Barbados.

We were looking for an adventure before they hit 16 and took on responsibilities like getting a driver's license.

Ebrahim and I could run our facility management corporation, The Harmil Group, remotely, and we wanted a drastic change of scene.

We considered Thailand but were put off by the time difference, as we operate in Canada and the US and would be juggling separate schedules.

Greece and Italy seemed like slightly better options, but moving there involved a lot of bureaucracy.

Someone suggested Barbados

Then someone suggested to us, "Hey, why don't you try Barbados?" There was a $3,000 "welcome stamp" program for people who didn't work for a Barbados company and could show they had a certain amount of money in the bank.

It made perfect sense to us because it had super-reliable WiFi and an international airport from which you could fly directly to world cities like New York City and London.

We rented out our homes in Ottawa and Florida and arrived in Barbados on April 19, 2025. It was one of the best decisions of our lives.

I've homeschooled all six kids — now between 5 and 15 — since 2019, and there's a great homeschooling community here. We usually start at 7 a.m. and finish at 1 p.m.

Islanders are polite and friendly

Then we'll do something fun like go to the beach, go sailing, and play golf or tennis. The children are very independent, and we give them freedom to be themselves. Life in Barbados is the adventure we craved.

I don't think they'll fully appreciate it until they're adults, but the exposure to a new culture is very helpful.

Bajans are very friendly, polite, and open-minded. The kids are happy to chat with strangers and don't shy away from them.

Another advantage is the great healthcare system. It's inexpensive, and you get same-day or next-day service.

As for cons, the food can be expensive, and Amazon deliveries take between one and three weeks. If you want to buy something like a rashguard, you might visit five stores before finding the right size.

Transportation is a bit scary for me because it's the other side of the road, and the highways need maintenance. Infrastructure is in progress.

Everyone drives like they're in little go-karts. But you learn to go with the flow. You also need to adapt to island time, when a visit by a plumber arranged for 9 a.m. means sometime that day.

The kids' childhood is unusual

We visited Canada, where Ebrahim and I were raised, in the fall of last year, and it was nice to get some North American vibes. The kids spoke to their friends and family and came away thinking their childhood wasn't the norm.

We still have wanderlust, and our next journey may take us to Europe, but we'll always treasure our stay in Barbados.

• For the past four summers, my family and friends have taken a summer vacation to Colorado.
• But the kids go to summer camp during the day, so we parents get to have fun.
• I think it's important our kids see us be adults outside being parents.

For the past three summers, my friends and I have driven our families to Colorado to work remotely, be playful adults, and, in some ways, mildly neglect our children.

My friends and I work hard to nurture our relationships. Whether it's a constantly changing technological landscape or a precarious job market, the world around us continues to evolve quickly.

Maintaining a sense of interconnectedness in our friend group helps us to feel more stable, but it also allows us to find communal joy, for ourselves, explicitly outside our kids.

To further connect on trips, we take it a step further and send our kids to day camp so we can get some respite from our typical demands.

Sending our kids to camp gives us parents a break

Parental expectations seem endless these days. Under the umbrella of intensive parenting, there seems to be an implicit message: we need to be constantly available to our kids.

There's a steady stream of emails coming from schools, applications to download for every sport, and a birthday party scene that is, at times, unbearable. To avoid burnout, we need to strike a balance; to thrive, we need enjoyment.

To do so, our children attend a very reasonably priced day camp in Colorado while my friends and I take our own vacation.

It is a much-needed escape from commuting to an office, rushing to the school pick-up line, and making it to another early-morning sports game. A lingering benefit of the pandemic is that we are all able to slip into remote work for a short time; we take full advantage of the setup. Consolidating our work so we can enjoy our downtime is the goal for the two weeks in Colorado.

We commit ourselves to having fun and strengthening our bonds, hoping that our kids pick up on the importance of connectedness, friendship, and enjoying life in the face of unpredictability.

It's important our kids see us as real people — not just their parents

It's a nice byproduct that our children see their parents as their own people — adults who pursue fun and find ways to play.

We certainly field many comments about how "it is not fair" that we do fun stuff without them. But this does not deter us.

In fact, last year, during a hike through the scenic Rocky Mountain National Park, we ran into our children while they were on their own camp-sponsored hike.

That evening was full of more demanding questions about how we spend our time.

The fun doesn't end when we pick the kids up from camp

We have been intentional about picking an area where we can also let the kids roam a bit.

After-camp hours are filled with self-guided play and time spent outside. So, our evenings feel like a nice balance between connecting with our kids and giving them time to play with one another.

Through these trips, we also hope to instill a sense of independence and love of nature. The whole experience ends up allowing our kids to learn from each other in ways they won't when we are around, and the grownups get space for uncensored adult time, leaving us with more gas in the tank.

We are all set for our fourth annual trip. While the kids are excited to escape the Texas heat and get to the mountains, we adults have been planning for our own adventures. There has been talk of our favorite pastries for breakfast, tennis, hiking, and white-water rafting…none of which our kids are invited to.

• After traveling to all 50 states solo, I've narrowed down the best cities to visit in the summer.
• Places like Taos, New Mexico, and Anchorage, Alaska, experience milder temperatures in the summer.
• Lubec, Maine, and Carmel-by-the-Sea, California feel like they're straight out of a fairytale.

When the weather gets warmer and the days get longer, I think it's the perfect opportunity to explore new parts of the United States.

After visiting all 50 states solo, I can recommend dozens of places to visit in the summer, but some stand out for their solitude, outdoor activities, accessibility, or great weather.

These are the seven cities and towns I've been telling my friends to visit this year.

Chicago really comes alive in the summer months.

Growing up in Illinois, I spent many summer days in Chicago. But, honestly, it wasn't until I'd visited all 50 states that I understood just how magical the city becomes in the warmer months.

Each summer, Millennium Park hosts a packed calendar of free outdoor concerts and festivals, and the Riverwalk comes alive with outdoor dining and kayakers.

Plus, the lakefront beaches are among my favorites in the country.

Lubec, Maine, is one of my favorite places to visit.

In my opinion, Maine feels like a fairytale in the summer months. With lush forests, rocky coastlines, and quaint fishing villages — you really can't go wrong.

However, the place I find myself recommending most (and dreaming about visiting again) is Lubec. Home to the easternmost point in the contiguous US, this town feels like a Hallmark movie.

I love hiking at West Quoddy Head State Park, staying at The Inn on the Wharf, eating lobster at Fisherman's Wharf Restaurant, and hiking or biking on the Cobscook Shores Trail.

There's so much to do in Taos, New Mexico.

The temperatures in Taos, New Mexico, stay surprisingly mild in the summer months, with highs in the mid-80s and lows ranging from the high-40s to low-50s. This makes it a great destination if you're looking to escape those hot summer nights.

Plus, there's so much to do. I like to visit Taos Pueblo, one of the oldest continuously inhabited communities in North America. Here, visitors can take guided or unguided tours of the Native American village.

When I want to spend some time outside, I hike the Williams Lake Trail, a beautiful 3.8-mile round-trip trek to the lake at the base of Wheeler Peak.

Jackson, Wyoming, is the perfect home base for outdoor adventure.

Summer is absolutely high season in Jackson, Wyoming, but to me, it's still worth battling some traffic to experience.

The town sits right outside Grand Teton National Park, and the outdoor recreation options in the area are almost overwhelming — hiking, fly fishing, rafting the Snake River, and kayaking across beautiful lakes.

Jackson's Town Square is worth an evening of its own for exploring the shops, grabbing dinner or a drink, or attending one of the summer festivals or markets.

Another perk? Jackson Hole Airport is the only commercial airport in the country located entirely within a national park — so you can fly straight into one of the most stunning places in America.

I think Anchorage, Alaska, is a must-visit destination.

I think everyone should experience the magic of Alaska in the summer. The days are incredibly long, the weather is mild, and everything feels more accessible.

Although there are lots of cities I love visiting in the state, Anchorage is my top pick because there's so much to do. I love visiting the Anchorage Museum, hiking the Tony Knowles Coastal Trail, eating at Moose's Tooth Pub and Pizzeria, or grabbing brunch at Biscuitclub.

The town is also a good basecamp for day trips to Seward, the Kenai Peninsula, and Girdwood.

Brevard, North Carolina, is the perfect place to stay if you want to see waterfalls.

I think Western North Carolina is one of the most beautiful parts of the country. However, my favorite town to visit is Brevard.

Located in Transylvania County — known as the "Land of Waterfalls" for its more than 250 cascades — Brevard is the perfect home base for exploring the area.

Within the town itself, I love attending the concerts put on by the Brevard Music Center, a summer training institute for young musicians.

Carmel-by-the-Sea, California, feels like a fairytale.

Even though I've lost count of how many times I've visited Carmel-by-the-Sea, California, I'm still not tired of it.

The downtown area genuinely feels like stepping inside a storybook, with whimsical cottages built in the 1920s, and 41 hidden courtyards and passageways filled with shops and restaurants.

I love staying downtown and just walking between the 17 wine-tasting rooms — it's one of my favorite ways to spend an afternoon.

• I traveled to the UK, the Netherlands, and France during my recent European vacation.
• I planned a packed itinerary, and was pleasantly surprised that I fit so much into eight days.
• That said, I wish I'd booked our hotels sooner and done research into customs and security.

Ever since my first trip to France at 18, I've been enamored with Europe.

Don't get me wrong, I love exploring the US, but there's something about leaving the country that helps me dive into vacation mode quickly, since I'm an ocean away from life's daily stressors.

After the COVID-19 pandemic, I started feeling a familiar itch to travel abroad, so we visited France together two years ago. The following year, we upped the ante and headed to two countries: France and Italy.

When it came time to plan our annual vacation this year, I proposed our most ambitious one yet — three European countries in eight days with a travel day tacked onto both ends — then mapped out a whirlwind itinerary that included two full days in London and two and a half days in both Amsterdam and Paris.

It was an adventure of a lifetime, and we packed so much into a short period of time. Still, I made a few mistakes and learned several important lessons along the way.

I didn't do enough research on security and customs protocol

When we traveled from London to Amsterdam on the Eurostar train, it took an hour to get through airport-level security and customs. Since I anticipated a similar experience traveling from Amsterdam to Paris, we arrived at the train station extra early, but there was no security checkpoint.

This minor mistake only cost us an hour of wasted time, but I regretted it. I could've hopped on an earlier train to Paris had I known that traveling from one EU country to another is a lot easier than entering the European Union from the United Kingdom.

With a tight itinerary, minutes and hours matter, so I learned to pay more attention to security requirements during the planning stage.

I waited too long to book one of my hotels

When looking into Amsterdam hotels, I found one in the city center, right near the main train station. I usually book things well in advance, but this time, I took a gamble and waited to see if the prices would drop.

By the time I went to book my preferred hotel, no rooms were available for my travel dates. As it turns out, there were a few big events in town that week, so rooms filled up quickly.

I've had luck finding last-minute deals on Booking.com before, so I took a look and booked another hotel that was a quick train ride away from the city center. Everything worked out, but the experience taught me to always research whether there are major events going on in a city when you're traveling.

After all, you can always book the hotel when you see it, then cancel the reservation and rebook it if prices drop.

I learned you can't see everything in one trip, and you don't have to

When you only have a few days in a city, you're forced to home in on the must-see items on your bucket list rather than seeing every major tourist attraction. For instance, my husband and I aren't into art, so we usually skip art museums and seek out cool architecture, beautiful gardens, and meaningful experiences.

When we first started charting our own course on vacation rather than letting the fear of missing out guide us, we worried that we might regret seeing some of the major sights. But we quickly realized that it's freeing to pick and choose the activities that matter most to you.

In Amsterdam, we could've seen the Anne Frank House since it's a popular tourist spot. Instead, we spent an afternoon at the Heineken Experience in honor of my late father, who adored Heineken.

I don't drink beer, but it was still incredibly rewarding to enjoy an experience that he never got to have himself.

Walking is often the best way to see a city — but don't be a hero

Whenever I travel, I prefer to see new cities on foot rather than spending time (and money) on public transportation.

Since we only had two days in London, my husband and I took the scenic route to Kensington Palace and walked an hour from our hotel.

On a nice day, it would've been a lovely walk through a gorgeous park, but London's weather is unpredictable. It ended up being rainier and windier than we'd expected, making the stroll pretty miserable.

Sure, we could've popped into the nearest train station, but the intermittent rain lulled us into a false sense of security. Next time, I'll hop on a train instead, even if it means missing out on seeing a pretty park.

• Worchihan Zingkhai is a lifelong football fan, but seeing the World Cup in person felt out of reach.
• He lives in a town in northeast India where salaries are low. He'd been saving up for a new laptop.
• Instead, he pooled his earnings to afford two World Cup tickets in Atlanta. He has no regrets.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Worchihan Zingkhai, 40, a content creator from a village in Manipur, India. The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

I've loved football for as long as I can remember.

Growing up in a village in Manipur, in northeast India, football is everywhere. We don't have proper equipment, so we make footballs out of plastic and old clothes rolled into a ball.

I can still remember staying awake until 3 a.m. to watch my first World Cup in 1998. We had one black-and-white TV for the entire village, and we pooled money to buy fuel for a generator to power it.

Since then, I've watched every World Cup on television. I became a fan of Portugal and later followed the Premier League. However, attending a World Cup match in person always felt impossible.

Now, nearly 30 years later, I'm finally going.

The laptop will have to wait

Making this trip requires a lot more than buying a match ticket.

My village sits about 5,600 feet above sea level, and there isn't an airport nearby. I'll drive about six hours to Imphal before flying to New Delhi, London, Washington, DC, and finally Atlanta. The trip includes four flights and about 27 hours in the air.

The journey would have been much harder without help from my wife's family. My father-in-law paid for our flights from New Delhi to Washington, DC, and my in-laws are helping with accommodations in the US. Having family there has made the trip much more affordable.

Even with that support, I've had to make sacrifices financially.

I'm a content creator who makes videos for YouTube, Instagram, and Facebook. This year, I planned to buy a new laptop for video editing. I was looking at models that cost between $2,200 and $2,500.

However, I couldn't afford both the laptop and the World Cup trip, so the laptop will have to wait.

In my area, people often earn about 500 rupees a day, or roughly $5 to $6. Because of that, we're very careful about spending. My family has cut back on other purchases and avoided additional trips to help make this World Cup journey possible.

I missed my first chance at tickets

Getting a World Cup ticket was harder than I expected.

I entered FIFA's ticket sale in February with a budget of $350 per ticket. My dream was to watch Portugal, England, or Argentina.

When I finally got into the system, I had only 15 minutes to buy. The Portugal tickets I wanted were priced between $450 and $650, which was beyond my budget. I spent too much time comparing options and eventually lost my chance.

I thought that was the end of my chance at the World Cup.

I was able to buy tickets in April. This time, I focused on finding a match I could afford instead of chasing the teams I wanted to see most. After waiting in the queue for several hours, I finally got in and bought two category-three tickets for Czech Republic versus South Africa in Atlanta for $140 each — one for me and one for my father-in-law.

High ticket prices make it harder for fans

I understand why demand for the World Cup is so high. Still, I think ticket prices are difficult for ordinary fans.

What frustrates me most is the resale market.

I paid $140 for my ticket. A few weeks later, I checked the resale platform and saw nearby seats listed for about $560.

As a football fan, that's disappointing.

People who genuinely want to attend have a short window to buy tickets, but resellers have much more time to profit from them. I believe some people purchase tickets mainly to resell them rather than attend matches themselves.

For fans like me, that makes an already expensive event even harder to reach.

• I travel a lot but typically stay in luxury hotels.
• My sister recently asked me to go to an adult summer camp with her, and I was hesitant.
• However, I'm so glad I went, and it changed the way I think about "comfort."

I'm a luxury travel reviewer, so I've spent years refining my standards for comfort. I've stayed at extraordinary hotels and resorts around the world — properties with the plushest bedding and robes, private infinity pools, dedicated butlers, and absolutely no need to take care of myself while on property. Once you get used to that level of comfort, it's hard to un-know it.

So when my sister started trying to convince me to attend a women's retreat at an adult summer camp in Northern California, I was skeptical.

I grew up camping, but stopped doing it over the years

To be fair, I'm not anti-camp. I grew up going to summer camp and even did a fair amount of recreational camping with friends into adulthood. But then I had kids, a life stage that necessitated so much gear schlepping and cleanup that doing so for recreation ceased to appeal. Camping lost its novelty.

Meanwhile, my work as a lifestyle writer moved increasingly toward luxury travel coverage. Over time, I became accustomed to certain elite-level comforts — and, if I'm being honest, attached to them.

My sister asked me to go to an adult summer camp

My sister, whose tastes differ from mine in plenty of ways, recruited two of our closest friends from high school and college to attend, too. It felt like a strategic FOMO operation — and it worked. About a week before the retreat, I finally caved and booked my flight.

I expected rustic accommodations, communal bathrooms, and the general feeling of roughing it.

Instead, I walked into all sorts of surprises.

For one thing, the camp itself had been rebuilt in recent years and felt far more polished than I anticipated — and certainly much more elevated than the Southern California camp of my youth. Our cabin for the four of us had heating and air conditioning, an en-suite bathroom, ample charging ports, and was spotless. The food in the dining hall was genuinely great, including lots of vegetarian options for me.

It felt less like roughing it and more like a conference center situated among trees.

But the accommodations weren't the only type of comforts that surprised me.

The bigger surprise was realizing how many forms comfort can take that have nothing to do with luxury amenities.

I found comfort in community and rest

There were 175 women at the retreat, and many of them were older than we were. My group ranged from age 48 (me) to 51 (my sister), but many attendees were in their 60s, 70s, and even their upper 80s. There was something unexpectedly grounding about being surrounded by women carrying decades of perspective and experience. The atmosphere felt notably free of performance or pressure.

Then there was another luxury I'd almost forgotten: being an off-duty mom in an adults-only environment. My sister has three kids; my two friends and I each have two. For a few days, nobody needed snacks. Nobody needed a ride somewhere. Nobody was making an impassioned case for me to extend their screen time.

Instead, I had time for things I almost never make space for anymore. I tried to learn Mahjong. I made beaded bracelets and dipped my own candles. I dozed through a sound bath and tried forest bathing.

The activities themselves almost felt beside the point.

Luxury hotels are designed to create comfort. That's literally their purpose.

But somewhere along the way, I think I'd unconsciously narrowed my own definition of comfort into something highly curated and highly physical — softer sheets, nicer rooms, better amenities.

I left adult summer camp with the reminder that some of the greatest comforts have nothing to do with thread count at all.

• I booked an Infinite Veranda cabin on my Celebrity cruise and was surprised by how much I loved it.
• The polarizing design replaces a traditional balcony with more of a windowed "sunroom."
• Despite lacking a true outdoor space, the cabin's flexibility and privacy made it worth the price.

My husband and I recently went on a 12-night cruise to New Zealand aboard Celebrity Edge — and, despite reading polarizing reviews online, we decided to splurge on an Infinite Veranda cabin.

The stateroom design has been a topic of debate since it debuted in 2018, as Celebrity replaced a traditional balcony with floor-to-ceiling windows that open with the push of a button.

Honestly, I had a hard time understanding the concept until I experienced it myself. Think of a traditional cruise balcony like an outdoor patio, while the Infinite Veranda is more like a (sometimes open-air) sunroom.

For some, the lack of true outdoor space dilutes the cabin experience, while others appreciate the added versatility.

I hadn't experienced anything like it before, but after 12 nights in the cabin, I'm convinced it was worth the cost.

The biggest benefit was having added space and flexibility.

Instead of dedicating space to an outdoor balcony, the Infinite Veranda layout brings the seating space inside the cabin. So, our room felt extra spacious.

I'm a chronic overpacker, but even with five suitcases, we had no issues finding storage. We were also pleasantly surprised by the extra space along the side of the Infinite Veranda, where we could store some of our luggage without our cabin feeling cluttered.

The extra space also made our cabin more functional. Throughout the cruise, we used the Infinite Veranda as a second seating area.

With two chairs and a small table, it was the perfect spot to have our morning coffee or a glass of wine at sunset. We ended up spending more time in our stateroom than usual because it was so comfortable.

The Infinite Veranda felt more private than a traditional balcony.

One of the most unexpected benefits of the Infinite Veranda was the added sense of privacy it provided.

On a standard balcony, your outdoor space is more exposed, with only a small divider separating you from your neighbors. They can also feel less secluded.

Depending on the ship's design, a standard balcony might even be visible from other decks. On a previous cruise, for example, a stranger on an upper deck yelled things at me while I was taking photos on my standard balcony. It was pretty embarrassing.

Thankfully, we didn't have to worry about that while using our Infinite Veranda. Even with the window open, the space felt enclosed and much quieter.

Unlike on traditional balconies, where you can often hear chairs moving or conversations next door, we never heard our neighbors.

All of this gave us a greater sense of privacy while we enjoyed the ocean views.

We didn't need to step outside to see the breathtaking scenery.

Because the Infinite Veranda is built into the room rather than separated by a sliding door, we didn't have to go outside to take in sweeping views of New Zealand's fjords, cascading waterfalls, and jagged coastlines.

With the country's cooler temperatures, bundling up to sit on a traditional balcony wasn't especially appealing. Instead, we loved lowering the window and enjoying the scenery from the comfort of our cabin.

Unlike a standard balcony, which exposes you to wind, rain, or noise, the Infinite Veranda let us enjoy the views from anywhere in the room, even from bed.

Whether we were sailing through Fiordland National Park or just wanted fresh, cool air in the cabin after dinner, we used the space constantly.

Still, I can see why this room style is controversial.

One of the biggest drawbacks of the Infinite Veranda is the lack of a true outdoor space. At times, it can feel more like sticking your head out a car window than stepping onto a balcony.

Additionally, the air conditioning shuts off automatically when the window is open. This can make the room stuffy or humid in warmer climates — luckily, though, this wasn't an issue for us with New Zealand's cooler weather.

Some travelers also prefer the separation between indoor and outside space that true balconies with a door can offer. For example, it can be convenient if someone wants to hop on a phone call while their cabinmates are napping. This wasn't an issue for us, though.

Ultimately, the Infinite Veranda won us over, and we feel it was a great value.

I can understand why the Infinite Veranda is polarizing, but for us, it was worth the money.

In total, we spent $6,826 on an Infinite Veranda stateroom in Celebrity's AquaClass, which included wellness-focused perks such as access to a thermal spa and an exclusive restaurant.

Infinite Veranda rooms typically cost more than standard veranda cabins, but prices vary widely — and I've even seen them cost slightly less on some itineraries.

Although I was hesitant to book such a highly debated cabin, it turned out to be one of the highlights of our cruise. In fact, I've already booked another Infinite Veranda cabin for my cruise to Norway this summer.

• Moving to Japan from New Zealand gave my family cheaper living and better healthcare.
• Inexpensive flights and Japan's rail network made frequent travel part of everyday life.
• Less financial stress and a slower lifestyle improved my mental health and overall quality of life

Three years ago, my family of three left New Zealand for Kobe, Japan, desperate for a total reset. We were running on empty, exhausted by skyrocketing living costs, limited career growth, and relentless financial stress.

We already loved Japan as tourists, but moving here permanently felt like a massive gamble. Instead, trading hemispheres didn't just change our coordinates; it completely rewrote our quality of life.

Same-day medical care is possible

Back in New Zealand, my husband once waited months for an MRI after a severe work injury, while I spent years and thousands of dollars chasing answers to chronic health concerns through a clogged public system.

When his back pain returned, I braced for the same exhausting delays in Japan. Instead, I laughed out loud when the clinic doctor asked if he'd prefer his MRI in three hours or later in the day, after he'd had some lunch. The total cost was just ¥6000 (around $38 USD).

While New Zealand's healthcare is technically free, accessibility was often the real issue. I now feel an enormous sense of relief knowing affordable and timely care is available when we need it. My 10-year-old daughter's monthly pediatric specialist appointments cost just ¥280 — less than $2 USD.

Ditching our car improved our lives

We don't own a car, so movement is embedded in our daily life. Between train stations, school runs, and grocery trips, I easily clear 10,000 steps a day.

In my first four months here, I lost 10 kilograms (about 22 pounds), though I quickly found them again thanks to Japan's incredibly delicious bakeries.

Increased walking has also changed how I connect with my environment. In a car, seasonal changes passed me by. Now, I slow down to notice spring buds, cherry blossoms hanging over train tracks, or autumn maples turning a deep crimson. I even took extra winter walks just to feel snowflakes settle on my cheeks as the hills behind my home turned white.

We can travel frequently

In New Zealand, international trips were a rare and expensive treat. In Japan, cheap flights across Asia and an extensive rail network make travel effortless and affordable.

Last summer alone, we visited Vietnam, Taiwan, Singapore, Bali, and the Setouchi Islands. Our multi-stop summer itinerary — flying from Osaka to Singapore and Bali before heading back to Japan — cost just 212,587 Yen ($1,332 USD) for all three of us on budget carriers.

Traveling to Beppu this May made me realize just how lucky we are. As I rode the Yufuin no Mori scenic train past mountains covered in vivid green cedar and purple wisteria, I looked out the window and actually cried out of pure gratitude for this new life.

Having affordable international flights at our doorstep and a domestic transit system that makes spontaneous weekend trips easy has turned travel from an occasional luxury into a normal part of our lives.

Our housing and grocery bills plummeted by more than half

In New Zealand, we paid NZ $1,680, or about $985 USD, a month for a small two-bedroom unit outside Christchurch's city center. In Kobe, we now pay around $450 a month for a much larger three-bedroom apartment.

The first time I did a week's worth of grocery shopping in Japan, I walked into the supermarket with ¥50,000 (about $315 USD) in my wallet, expecting to spend most of it. When the total came to just ¥15,000 ($95 USD), I genuinely thought there had been a mistake at the register.

While rising prices and the weak yen have made everyday life more expensive for many families in Japan, it still feels far more financially manageable for us than life in New Zealand did, especially when it comes to housing, groceries, internet, and eating out.

Living in Japan has reshaped my perspective and improved my mental health

Starting over in Japan wasn't a magical fix; navigating a new language and culture was lonely at times. Yet immersing myself in a completely different way of living reshaped my perspective, teaching me to appreciate more and fight the current less.

They say money can't buy happiness, but the financial stability and lifestyle shift here reduced my stress so drastically that eight months ago, I finally came off antidepressants after relying on them since I was 17.

Japan didn't cure me, but it created the conditions for recovery, which reignited my curiosity for learning about the world.

• Author Kimberly Wilson was a traveler who always had an itinerary and a long list of to-gos while vacationing.
• During a girls trip with her mom, she decided to not plan anything — for once.
• Wilson found that when she didn't create moments for social media, she could actually rest.

I've always considered myself to be a hustler, since my first lemonade stand, in fact.

Growing up in New York, I was raised on a mentality that in order to live the life you dream, the work ethic has to match. That idea followed me through undergrad, then law school, then a career, mostly in travel writing, that practically runs on coffee and momentum. I constantly live a life on go-mode.

It's probably why when people find out how much I travel for work and in my personal life, they assume I love it. It's my natural way of being. And I do, mostly. I'm the one who scours TikTok, Google Reviews, and travel sites to ensure that I'm able to perfectly curate my itinerary from the moment I step foot off the plane, train, or automobile.

But in this season of life, as I'm navigating personal and professional life changes, I've learned that rest can't be my reward. So I wanted to try something new: see what happens when there's nothing to plan. And so I did just that.

How I created rest during travel

This past Mother's Day, I took my mom to Grenada. There was no spreadsheet, no color-coded schedule with a long list of plans and things to do (my mom hates that anyway), and nowhere for us to be. We had our flights, a hotel, and an intention to show up and figure it out. For someone like me, that last part was harder than it sounds — believe me.

We stayed at The Beach House at Silver Sands, and I think the property did half the work for me. Tucked away on the southwest coast of the island, it doesn't have the sprawling amenities, a packed pool bar or an activity desk of a mega-resort that's trying to curate every second of your trip. Still, it was just what we both needed — quiet, a stretch of beach that felt like it belonged to just us, comfort, and luxury.

The property itself is small by design, and ours was only one of 28 rooms and suites. When we walked into our king room, which featured wide windows and a private canopied terrace, we were stunned. The room sat on Portici Beach, which is framed by a stone bluff and water that shifts between shades of blue depending on the hour.

There's also a main infinity pool that we had access to, a spa (at the sister property, Silversands Grand Anse, which we gladly enjoyed one day), kayaks, and beach yoga if we felt so inclined. The options existed, but we didn't feel pressure to partake in them one way or another.

For the first day, I won't pretend I wasn't restless. I kept reaching for my phone to look something up, to find the "best" local spot, and who I knew on the island. Old habits die hard, is what they say, right?

For example, the woman who sat next to me on the plane — a stranger — informed me that a mutual friend was also on the island celebrating their birthday that weekend. They were hosting a themed party, to which she invited us to join, along with a list of activities to participate in while we would be there. My mom, who has watched me operate at this pace my entire life, just looked at me and said, essentially, stop.

So I did. Spoiler alert: I also skipped the party.

By day two, we were in our groove. We ate when we were hungry. We sat on the beach without a plan to leave it. One afternoon we ventured out to Port Louis Marina for lunch at Chez Louis, which felt like exactly the right amount of outside world. A good meal, a change of scenery, and then back to the quiet that Beach House offered. That ratio ended up being the whole trip in miniature.

I worked out every morning, either at the outdoor gym on the beach or over at the main Silversands property, which has more equipment. I'm training for HYROX, so completely switching off for that was never really on the table, and I didn't try to force it. What I noticed was that the workouts felt different there, less obligatory and more like something I actually wanted to do because they weren't rushed or had to fit within a schedule.

We had dinner one night at Grenadian Grill, where the coastal cuisine matched the unhurried pace we'd finally settled into. But honestly, the food was secondary. My mom lives in New York and I'm in Maryland, so we just enjoyed catching up for girl time with zero distractions because that seems to be what is always the first thing that gets sacrificed when life picks up speed (on my end, not hers as a retiree, of course).

I removed the pressure to perform on vacation

I've taken a lot of trips. I've seen a lot of places, but I can't say I've always allowed myself to fully be where I was. Grenada was different.

We all know the travel industry sells rest as a product. And the products are really good most of the time, really, really good actually: a spa package, a swim-up suite or butler service. I'm not going to say, I don't love all of those things. But what I found was that rest isn't really something a hotel gives you, it's something you have to decide to receive. The hotel's seclusion removed the temptation to keep moving and the simplicity of Grenadian life removed the pressure to perform a vacation for anyone, including myself.

I came back to Maryland without a single TikTok video or restaurant video saved for a future trip to Grenada (I scrolled and moved on, folks). Just some photos of my mom and I laughing having a good time on what I hope is many more girls trips to come.

I'm still a hustler, by all means. That's not going anywhere anytime soon, even despite no longer living in "the concrete jungle." But I understand now that rest isn't the opposite of ambition. You need it as part of the infrastructure. And sometimes all it takes is a secluded beach in Grenada, your mother telling you —sternly, I might add — to put the phone down, and a place that's quiet enough to let you hear yourself think.

• I spent two nights on Amtrak's California Zephyr train and booked a $2,200 bedroom with two bunks.
• I spent the first night in the top bunk and the second in the lower cot.
• I slept well in both, but I preferred the top bunk because it made the room feel bigger.

With two nights on the California Zephyr and two beds to choose from, I picked both.

In February 2026, I took the Amtrak sleeper train's full route from Chicago to Emeryville, California. For the 53-hour train journey, I booked a $2,200 bedroom with a foldout couch and an upper bunk. As a solo traveler in a room for two, I spent one night in each cot to see which I preferred.

I got roughly the same amount of sleep in each bunk, but some key differences led me to prefer the top one.

And honestly, you probably won't agree with me.

My Amtrak bedroom was 50 square feet and had two beds.

Inside the bedroom, there was a bathroom on the left, a foldout couch on the right, and a table and chair against the back window. Above the couch was a lever to pull the top bunk down from the ceiling.

Train attendants offer turndown service to set up both beds, but as an experienced overnight train traveler (I've spent 193 hours on them), I did it myself.

I spent my first night in the top bunk.

When I pulled the top bunk down from the ceiling, I found a ladder, straps to hook to the ceiling, and bedding. I hooked the ladder to the end of the bed and climbed up to fix the straps. There was also a pair of pockets on the wall where I stored my water bottle and phone.

The shakiness of the train felt more prominent in the top bunk, but I didn't mind it.

If you're new to overnight train travel, I wouldn't recommend the top bunk. The shakes and rumbles of the rails felt more intense up there than on the couch below. But I've slept on so many trains that this motion rocks me to sleep now.

I slept for seven hours and woke up feeling well rested.

Sleeping up top made me feel like a kid again.

I slept in the top bunk above my brother growing up. Back then, it felt like just another mundane detail of my day. But as an adult, lying up there in that Amtrak bed, I was overwhelmed with nostalgia. It was like traveling back in time and having the chance to appreciate something I never did as a kid.

The best part of the top bunk was that it made the room feel bigger.

With the couch still intact, adding the top bunk gave the tiny space another piece of furniture without taking up more square footage. I stored my belongings on the couch below and used the bunk as a loft throughout the next day.

On the second night, I slept in the bottom bunk.

Beneath each corner of the couch was a pedal that read "Push for bed." With my foot on the pedal, I pulled the bar spanning each cushion to make the bed. I had easy access to the power outlets and a cupholder by the window.

The bottom bunk felt larger than the top bunk, but it made the room feel smaller.

The bottom bunk was wider than the top bunk, so I had more room to stretch out. At the same time, the lower bunk took up a lot of the floor space. I suddenly felt cramped. There was no longer space to stand in front of the sink, so I brushed my teeth in bed. I stuffed all of my belongings in the corner of the room.

I slept for eight hours in the bottom bunk and felt just as well rested as I did the day before.

In the bottom bunk, I woke up with a view.

The window in my room was only visible from the bottom bunk. So I appreciated waking up, opening the curtains, and seeing the sunrise without leaving my bed.

It may have been smaller and shakier, but the top bunk has my heart.

I'm sure most would prefer the bottom bunk for its size and slightly smoother ride, but on future overnight Amtrak trips, I'll always take the top bunk.

If I'm riding solo, it'll make the room feel bigger. But even if I'm not, I'll give my partner the bigger bed and enjoy feeling like a kid again.

• I went to Las Vegas for a work conference and met my future husband there.
• Within 24 hours, I told him I'd follow him anywhere.
• Thirteen years later, I'm married to him and raising our children in Trinidad and Tobago.

Thirteen years ago, I flew from Atlanta to Las Vegas for a work conference. I thought I was going to learn how to build a business: strategies, contacts, maybe some motivation. I did not know I was walking into the room where I would meet the man I would eventually marry.

I was 25 and tired of dating men who looked good on paper but didn't feel right in real life. From the outside, some of the men I dated seemed impressive: money, status, ambition, the kind of résumés many women are told to want. But something was always missing.

So when I received an invitation to a work conference for a direct-selling business I'd recently joined, I was more than willing to meet someone new.

I was ready to settle down and find my partner

Before the trip, I made changes that felt dramatic at the time. I cut off the locs I'd been growing for more than four years. I stopped dating. I changed the names of several men in my phone to "Do Not Answer." I made a private vow to stop entertaining almost-right men while praying for the right one.

On the flight to Las Vegas, I couldn't sleep, which almost never happens. I kept shifting in my seat, restless in a way I couldn't explain. Eventually, I pulled out my cream-colored journal and jotted down everything I wanted in a husband.

Nine bullet points. Not a fantasy list — an honest reckoning with the kind of man I wanted to love, trust, and follow.

I met my husband while waiting in line at the conference

The next morning, I woke up late. One hour before the conference doors opened, I rushed downstairs in four-inch heels to find the line already wrapped around the corner.

The conference had attracted people from many countries, and the hallway was full of accents. One caught my attention: warm, rhythmic, unfamiliar. A man smiled at me, which was enough of an invitation to make an instant friend. I joined him in line, grateful for the rescue.

We made small talk, but then I looked up and saw another man standing nearby.

Tall. Handsome. A Caribbean rhythm in his voice. Something about him stopped me. It was an immediate knowing — the kind that sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud.

I was looking at my husband.

He was from Trinidad and Tobago and had only arrived in America three days earlier. This was his first time in the US. He wasn't trying to impress me with what he had or who he knew. He was calm, sure of himself, and something about him made me feel safe.

We've since built a life together

The next day, after barely 24 hours, I said something that still shocks me.

"I don't know where Trinidad is on the map," I told him. "But I'll follow you wherever you go."

I meant it. Thirteen years later, I am married to him and raising our children in Trinidad and Tobago. I moved here because it felt like a beautiful place to raise my children.

They get to grow up climbing mango, coconut, and plum trees in our backyard, connected to nature in a way I didn't experience growing up in inner-city Baltimore.

The hardest adjustment has been being far from my immediate family, but the peace and simplicity here have been worth it.

I went to Las Vegas looking for business advice. I left with a future I could never have planned for myself.

• Laura Pollacco was struggling with depression and moved to Japan for two years to teach English.
• After returning home, she realized her career prospects and professional network were stronger in Tokyo, so she moved back.
• Now 31, working as a freelancer, and engaged, she's torn over where to build her future.

At 22, heartbroken, depressed, and unsure about my future, I craved novelty and adventure, so I packed up my life in England and moved to Japan.

Now, 31, living in Tokyo, and more secure than I've ever felt in my adult life, I can't help but feel that creeping depression, pushing me to pack my bags once more.

In my early 20s, upending my life felt exciting. Now, in my 30s, it just feels indecisive.

In 2016, I'd graduated with a degree in fashion photography and was working three part-time jobs in my university town to scrape by while simultaneously trying (and failing) to get over intense heartbreak. I was struggling.

Hobbies like theater and kung fu had lost their shine, my future felt vast and uncertain. I wanted a fresh slate.

During my personally elected studies into Japanese fashion and aesthetics, I fell in love with Japan. My dissertation was titled "The rise of gender neutrality and its origins in Japanese design." I even visited a friend studying abroad there in 2015, and that brief but fantastic sojourn left me thinking — somewhat naively — "I could live here."

A year later, in my depressed state, that thought resurfaced. Then it became all I could focus on.

I needed to move to Japan

The move wasn't completely off the cuff ー I'm not spontaneous enough for that. I applied to and was accepted into the JET Program, an organization that recruits thousands of graduates to teach English.

Rather than a traditional school placement, I was based at an education center in Kanagawa, about an hour from Tokyo, with occasional assignments at local high schools.

I threw myself into adapting: learning the rhythms of a new culture, working on my basic Japanese skills, and exploring my new environment. With every mountain climb, temple visit, and ramen bowl, I felt the blanket of depression start to fall from my shoulders.

I put myself out there once again, starting new hobbies such as MMA, kendo, and ikebana while reviving my old passions like drama. These led to new connections and opportunities. I felt reborn.

Japan had rekindled my passion for life. Feeling I'd gotten all I could from my teaching role, I decided to leave Japan with the goal of picking up where I was prior to my depressive episode.

Life back in Europe

I returned to the UK only for the pandemic to cut right across all my well-laid plans. Like most of the country, I was trapped inside, questioning my life decisions, especially about leaving Japan.

I was better connected in Tokyo's creative circles than in the UK, I had support in Japan, and the cost of living was considerably lower. I decided to move back, this time not out of depression, but out of hope and ambition.

In 2022, I returned on a working holiday visa, juggling remote freelance writing gigs with pitching to local publications. I pushed hard until, when my working holiday visa came to an end, I had enough work behind me to switch to the journalism visa in 2023.

Despite expanding my client list and gaining experience, my original fire began to flicker, then sputter, and more recently, it's felt like I'm helplessly blowing on the embers to keep them from going out. I was burned out.

Depression was setting in again. I experienced fatigue, a lack of interest in my hobbies, a desire to be left alone, all while self-flagellating my lack of ambition and for "settling" in my career.

My loving fiancé — whom I met here in Japan — was starting to worry to the point where he offered to cover the cost of online therapy. During these sessions, I realized that, for the first time since moving back to Japan, I was starting to feel homesick.

Living in a foreign country is tough

For starters, while I speak enough to get by, not speaking fluent Japanese is exhausting. As a multifaceted freelancer, immigration's restrictive boxes feel like a choking dog collar yanking me back from new opportunities, not to mention the new gray hairs I gain with every annual visa renewal.

On top of that, I've felt a rise of anti-foreigner sentiment, and Tokyo's concrete jungle is starting to feel claustrophobic and repressive.

In recent months, my brain has been flooded with ideas of returning back to the pastoral days of my youth. Stone cottages with actual gardens, walks down country paths with a dog by my side, fully understanding what's being said to me at a doctor's visit.

But I can't tell if I'm truly wanting to return to England or if I'm trying to escape back into a childhood where responsibilities were minimal.

I've worked so hard to get to and stay in Japan, I don't know whether to push through what could simply be a low period and wait to get to the other side, or whether my gut, my instinct, is trying to tell me something.

When it comes to big life choices like these, I realize I'll only find out if it was the right decision after the fact. I just hope that, whatever my partner and I choose to do, we make the best of that decision.

• Raghav and Ansh Kumar quit city life, moved to the Himalayas, and built a house by hand.
• The brothers, architects by training, wanted to prove that natural materials could be durable and luxurious.
• The house took three years to build, and it's now a functional Airbnb.

Perched on the side of a hill near the Himalayas is a whimsical house made of mud, stone, and straw that two brothers built by hand.

Ansh and Raghav Kumar, a pair of architect siblings from New Delhi, moved to a remote town in India to escape the noise and chaos of corporate city life and built the house that they now list on Airbnb.

"Someone sees it as a Harry Potter house, someone sees it as a hobbit house, someone sees it as a fairytale house," Raghav, 32, said.

"For us, it's a labor of love, and every curve tells the story of all the beautiful people who had come and put in the effort."

Corporate burnout

Raghav interned with a German architectural company after architecture school and transitioned into a full-time role at another German company based in Ahmedabad. He said he loved the work culture, the people, and the company's flat hierarchy — but he struggled with working long hours.

"When you're in a corporate setup, the environment makes you believe that the longer you work, you can wear that as a badge of honor," he said. "There were days when I ended up working 48 hours at a stretch trying to cope with all the side deadlines."

Raghav also said there was a disconnect between the architect and the laborer.

"The architect sits in this air-conditioned office, designing and dreaming visionary things, whereas the laborer who builds the project doesn't get any credit," Raghav said. "As architects, we're not able to comprehend or appreciate that labor that goes into a project."

During his three-year stint at the German company, he started traveling more to destress, going to remote mountainous parts of India.

"I realized I was living for the weekends," he said. "That's when I realized I didn't want to climb the corporate ladder."

His younger brother Ansh, 29, also interned in Germany, then freelanced on sustainable architecture projects in mountainous and rural areas of India, where he got a taste for mountain life.

During the pandemic, while quarantining at home in New Delhi, the duo began experimenting with making their own building materials. They tested mycelium from homegrown mushrooms and learned about making cob, a natural material made from soil, straw, and water.

That's where the idea to move away from the chaos of the city and build a house in the mountains took root.

"Covid showed us life is short," Raghav said. "We agreed that we needed to take a leap of faith."

Moving and adapting to Rishikesh

The pair decided on Rishikesh, a town located in the foothills of the Himalayas, known as India's yoga capital. It is about 150 miles northeast of New Delhi.

It's historically been a pilgrimage destination, built on the banks of the Ganges River, but has recently become a hot spot for digital nomads, cafés, and corporate and wellness retreats.

The pair leased land in Rishikesh from a family friend, promising to build a sustainable building on it. And in March 2021, they packed their bags and moved into a house in a small village near Rishikesh.

"From where the car drops you off, you have to cross a tributary of the Ganga on foot via a wooden bridge," Ansh said, "Then you hike for more than a mile to reach the village. So that was another challenge altogether."

Building a house with their hands

In their past architectural work, the brothers used software to do concept drawings. But here, they used sticks and stones around the plot of land to mark out the house plan.

Then came the building phase. They carried thousands of rocks to the building site, trekked in sand on mules, and sourced most of the other materials from around the house.

They put out a call for volunteers on Workaway — a platform that connects travelers with hosts who provide food and accommodation in exchange for work.

The brothers estimated that, over the three years it took to build the house, more than 100 volunteers from 18 countries were involved in construction, along with about 20 local laborers they employed.

They spent about $30,000 on the project, from their savings and their parents' investment.

"You can see the progress every day; the house was getting taller daily, by about six inches to a foot," Ansh said. "So that is quite rewarding compared to eight hours of work in front of the laptop in the corporate world, where you feel exhausted but also like you didn't get anything done."

Finally, in 2024, they finished the house.

Raghav called the final project a "living sculpture."

It's full of organic shapes, with a whimsical thatched roof, and spiral patterns running around its walls.

They listed the two-bedroom, one-bathroom home on Airbnb in April 2024 for around $140 per night.

"Proceed to book only if you are comfortable hiking for 1.5 kilometers in a forest with a backpack, as the property is not accessible by car," says the Airbnb listing. "There's no WiFi in the forest, but you'll get a stronger connection with yourself, your loved ones, and your passions."

They said it's booked out about 60% of the time.

Fittest they have ever been

Now, the duo has built an architecture and design studio in Rishikesh and is working on other natural building projects across India.

Running the studio from Rishikesh has its challenges. They deal with a choppy network — they're eagerly awaiting Starlink — and must deal with safety concerns because the house is near a forest with wild elephants.

But mountain life has changed them.

"We've become the fittest version of ourselves, living here," Raghav said. On the first day of their chapter in Rishikesh, just the hike up to the site winded them both, but they can now do four trips up and down.

"You don't even know when you clock 10,000 steps. You have nature all around you, better air, and you feel your anxiety melt away," Raghav said.

• Up to 40% of men admit to losing their rings. My husband was one of them.
• To help travelers like us find lost jewelry, people-for-hire scour beaches with metal detectors.
• We found Antigua's very own treasure hunter through Facebook.

My husband and I were on our blissful honeymoon, beach hopping in Antigua, when a look of horror passed over his face. Amid the splashing and digging for shells, his wedding ring had slipped off.

"It's gone. My ring is gone!" Panic rose in his voice.

I, despite my dramatic nature, was surprisingly calm. We bought his 14-karat gold ring at Costco for $1,000. If we had to lose a ring, I'd rather his than mine, which is a family heirloom. However, his band was the one I'd slipped on his finger after our vows, so it had sentimental value.

"We'll find it!" I squeaked. I ran up to a vendor on the beach and asked if we could borrow snorkels. We spent the next hour circling the same 30-square-foot patch of the ocean floor. Nothing.

The sun was setting, so we dragged our dejected, dripping selves into towels and returned the masks. My husband wavered between dead silence and frustrated groans on the drive back.

That night, we looked through pictures and realized we'd lost it at a different beach: Turner's. We'd been looking in the wrong place.

Facebook to the rescue

My husband's not alone in his misfortune. Statistics vary, but several reports over the years estimate that between 10% to 40% of men lose their wedding rings at some point. Through many Reddit posts, I realized there's a solution: a metal detector.

Turns out, people make careers from finding jewelry on the ocean floor. And it's getting more popular due to surging gold prices.

I came across an article in The Wall Street Journal about a famous man from the island of Mauritius who'd found a Frenchman's ring in the ocean not once but twice. I wondered if Antigua had its own treasure hunter.

So I posted in a tourists' Facebook group: "We're on our honeymoon. My husband lost his ring. Does anyone have a metal detector?"

The first comment completely deflated my confidence: "That's a bad omen lol." Another said, "I never wear my good jewelry in the ocean." Most people suggested we pray to St. Anthony or wished us luck. Finally, the next morning, someone mentioned Winston.

Winston Merchant's a local guy from St. John. Over a WhatsApp call, he offered: "$50 if I don't find it. $200 if I do. Cash." We agreed.

"Do you think it'll still be there after two days in the ocean?" I asked over the phone, anxiously chewing my lip.

"Ya, man. It'll be there." Winston's quiet confidence raised our hopes.

The day of the hunt

We met Winston the next morning, 44 hours after my husband lost his ring. He radiated calm. I live in New York City, so I can't grasp the concept of calm, let alone embody it. But this man did. He sported flip flops and a Bob Marley shirt.

As we got to talking, he estimated he's unearthed about 1,000 pieces of jewelry.

"But I've been doing this a long time, man. Since 1998," he later said.

He said he's found rings, chains, and bracelets, mostly for tourists. One time, he said he tracked down a valuable pendant the size of a grain of rice on a resort lawn. Another time, he found a woman's diamond ring on the Sandals beach and delivered it to the airport moments before she boarded her flight.

Full-time, Winston farms marijuana and black pineapple — a rare, exceptionally sweet variety only found in Antigua. This helps him fund his side gig of metal detecting, which isn't cheap.

He said his latest detector, a Garrett Sea Hunter Mark II, cost him $800, and a pair of new headphones set him back $140.

He used my own ring to make sure he was on the right frequency for gold, adjusting the knobs as he floated the sensor over my hand. Then, he set off, scanning the beach.

Soon, he was knee deep in the bluest water I'd ever seen. Whenever his sensor beeped in his ears, he'd scoop a pile of sand from the ocean floor and sift it with a second contraption that resembled a pasta colander, but was cylinder-shaped.

He unearthed a quarter. "I'll keep that," he cracked. Then a matchbox car. Then one aluminum can lid after another. All of it went deep in his pocket so he wouldn't come across it again.

At one point, he was neck deep in water, and I was beginning to lose hope.

Striking gold

An hour and a half later, I sat 15 feet from the water's edge contemplating how we'd afford a new ring when Winston calmly sauntered up.

He held out the pasta-collander tool and said, "You better go surprise him." I peered inside, and there lay a golden ring. Eyes wide, I screamed an expletive.

"Go put it in a shell or something," Winston smiled knowingly. Clearly, he'd done this before.

I ran up the beach, grabbed a shell, and tucked it and the ring inside my palm. I bolted up to my husband and said, "Look at this pretty shell I found." Unfolding my hand, I revealed the ring. Another expletive. My husband's eyes were gleaming.

The pair of us bounced around, cackling to anyone who'd listen, "Winston found it! In the ocean of all places!"

Collectively, that ring spent more hours in the ocean than I did on my honeymoon.

Winston didn't seem surprised at his success. He estimates his find rate is 95%. Sometimes he ditches the metal detector and searches with his hand by feel. He puts so much effort into his hunts because he knows the feeling of losing something special, he told me.

"It's not just a ring. A lot of memories flash through your head when you lose it," he said. "That joy from your vacation gets pushed back, and you leave bitter. I make somebody happy again."

It seemed fitting that my husband was wearing a Pittsburgh Pirates hat. We'd been searching for lost treasure with Winston, who'd struck gold.

• Solo travel can feel daunting, but it can also be empowering.
• Traveling long distances by plane, train, and ship has taught me lessons on how to travel alone.
• Here's what I've learned, from combating loneliness to making the most of your solo trip.

I wasn't always a solo traveler. In fact, there was a time when I wouldn't have even considered it.

My college years living in Austin were filled with group road trips, where I'd pile in a car with my friends to spend a week or two camping in the desert, sleeping in Walmart parking lots near national parks, and staying in the occasional cheap Airbnb.

Growing up, I also often flew with my mom to visit family members in faraway places like Guam, which is more than 7,000 miles from Austin.

At the time, travel felt like something that was meant to be done with company. I never considered traveling on my own until seven years ago, when I graduated from college and moved to New York City alone.

This meant more solo flights to visit family members in the States and across the world. But on top of that, my job as a reporter gave me the opportunities to take overnight trains in the US and Europe, spend seven nights on one of the world's largest cruise ships sailing the Caribbean Sea, and explore new cities and unique accommodations — all by myself.

Now, at 30 years old, traveling solo is my norm. These trips take me out of my comfort zone as I learn new things about myself and how I can make the most of these special times alone.

Before you take your first solo trip, be a tourist in your own city. This mindset helped me prepare for many solo vacations.

I started taking mini solo adventures in New York before I ever traveled alone. I hunted down the skinniest homes in the five boroughs, summited observation decks, and took daytrips to see unique sights like this abandoned castle on the Hudson River.

These excursions helped prepare me for my first reporting trip, which took me to Miami by train. I spent five days exploring the city, which I had never been to before.

My mini solo adventures in NYC gave me experience planning out and executing a day with several specific locations using public transportation. So when I got to Miami, I felt confident enough to explore on my own.

If you're considering solo travel for the first time, I recommend spending a few weekends touring your own city to build your navigation and planning skills.

In solo travel, the weight of planning and executing will all fall to you, so be sure to make plans and backup plans.

When I have a lot of ground to cover during a solo vacation, preplanning eases my anxiety about getting it all done.

When I was in Miami, I spent an hour planning out the next day each night. I prepared my clothes and gear, mapped out where I needed to go, and wrote out potential itineraries while leaving room for error.

This preparation relieved my stress around transportation and timing and helped me feel ready to conquer the next day. 

But when I'm not traveling for work, I remind myself that it's OK to cancel my plans if I'm not feeling it. It's only my vacation, after all.

From flights to trains, long-haul transportation can be extra lonely. Distract yourself with entertainment.

I've taken trains as long as 53 hours. I've had 24-hour travel days with back-to-back long-distance flights. Trust me, the isolation sets in while in transit.

I make sure I have several forms of entertainment downloaded, from movies and games to books and podcasts, to help distract me during these times.

Podcasts can be great company when traveling solo because it almost feels like you're with someone else. Whatever your preferred form of entertainment is, download a surplus of it for long-haul trips. You'll thank yourself for having so much to choose from.

When you feel lonely, practice gratitude.

Solo travel sometimes leaves me stuck in my own head since I have no one to talk to, which is no fun when I'm feeling lonely. But remembering why I am on the trip and the perks of being alone — like total freedom to do what I want — helps me feel better. 

In lonely moments, I think to myself, "I'm grateful for a job that allows me to travel and take pictures, and being alone helps me grow and learn more about myself."

Solo trips are opportunities to try new things and find out more about your likes and dislikes.

Traveling alone is the perfect time to try new things because, typically, when in new places, you have access to things you wouldn't normally have back home, and you have to make all your own choices about how to spend your time since there's no one else but you. 

My most recent overnight train ride lasted 53 hours. Since I had two nights on board and two bunks to choose from in my room, I spent one night in each to find out which I liked better.

I ended up preferring the top bunk because it made me feel like a kid again, but I never would have known that if I hadn't tried both bunks.

Make a long, eclectic playlist for the in-between moments to keep your spirits up.

When I'm traveling home from Guam on 7-hour flights with multiple layovers, it's nice to have some background jams to keep my spirits up.

I recommend creating a long playlist packed with your favorite songs for all your typical moods to make the trip go by faster.

Another thing that might make long-haul travel more bearable is comfy clothing.

Being in a new place can be uncomfortable and, at times, nerve-racking for me. So every time I travel alone, I pack my most comfortable outfits. Feeling comfy on the outside definitely helps me relax in a new area. 

Once you get to your destination, you may find that the more you unpack and move in, the more comfortable and at home you feel.

I often get homesick when I travel alone, especially at night when I'm getting ready for bed. This was especially present on my first cruise in 2022.

To feel more at home, I put my clothes and accessories in closets and drawers, and I even decorated my cabin by putting up pictures from my planner on the vanity. 

I found that the more I unpacked my belongings in the cabin, the better I felt about being away from home. 

Having someone who knows where you are to check in with could make you feel safer on solo trips.

For safety reasons, I shared my cruise itinerary with my mom so she would always know where I was. I also checked in with her via text and FaceTime every day as time allowed. This not only made me feel safer but also less alone on my trip. 

If you're anything like me, centering yourself after mishaps will make you a more confident solo traveler.

Across transportation modes, I've made a few mistakes on my trips that could have derailed my plans, like missing buses, getting lost, and forgetting key items.  

I used to worry that these mistakes would waste precious time, but solo trips taught me to stay calm in these moments. To do this effectively, I realized I need to practice mindfulness and remain present in the moment.

When I mess up during my solo travels, I stop what I am doing, observe what is happening, and remind myself that everything is fine and I am capable of figuring things out.

It's not easy to stay mindful in stressful situations, but the more you practice it, the less difficult it feels. If you practice it in challenging moments while traveling alone, you might develop a sense of ease over time, as I did. 

Although I've gotten better at it, solo travel is still challenging for me. But I welcome and look forward to more opportunities to grow as an individual through these trips. 

• I moved from Michigan to Denver because of the hiking trails.
• I quickly met a great group of friends and built a strong community.
• But as the cost of living rises in Denver, my friends continue to move away.

Two things prompted my move from Michigan to Colorado in 2017: the mountains and a tight-knit group of friends that loved the outdoors as much as I did.

As a 20-something hiker who couldn't get enough trail time, my hometown started to feel stifling, like the state lines were confining my happiness. After backpacking the 2,200-mile Appalachian Trail in 2015, Denver felt like the promised land, so I moved.

Within a year, half a dozen hiking friends followed, planting themselves in the foothills alongside me. But thanks to the rising costs, the community I built didn't last long.

Moving to Denver came with a promise

At first, Denver delivered everything I had hoped for. The economy hummed, the people were warm, and the mountains were brutal and unforgiving, exactly as I wanted.

My first FriendsGiving filled the house with familiar faces, food, and laughter that spilled into the early morning hours. Countless faces I'd seen along the Appalachian Trail dotted my living room, and for the first time in years, I genuinely felt at home.

I fell into a rhythm over the next several years, growing my career, my community, and my mountain skill set. But eventually the novelty of being in Colorado faded, and those rose-colored glasses came off. Denver was expensive.

The pandemic struck, inflation ballooned, and the state's existing fault lines cracked open. Colorado is now the sixth-least affordable state in the country. The cost of living had my friends doing the math and not liking what they found.

My friends started moving away

The first friend to go was my college roommate. We'd claimed Colorado as our home years earlier, hopeful for all the state's promises. But she'd done the numbers and found that homeownership on a single income in Denver wasn't in her cards. Her mother's declining health and a softer market back home made it hard to rationalize the grind. A few months later, she signed a three-bedroom lease in western Michigan for less than she'd paid for her Denver studio.

Her departure awakened my own doubts. I wasn't sure that I wanted to own a home, so purchase prices didn't haunt me the same way that they'd haunted her.

But rent was another story. I started doing my own math, late at night, in the way you do when you're not quite ready to admit what you're calculating.

Within a year, two of my best friends announced they were heading to Arizona. They didn't want to leave, but Phoenix offered cheaper housing and a family network that Denver lacked. This loss felt heavier than the first, marking a pattern that was forming.

I remember standing in the driveway, watching a small caravan of U-Hauls disappear down the road when an ache bloomed in my chest. Part of me felt something close to gratitude, knowing they were choosing the lives they wanted rather than clinging to Colorado out of habit or convenience.

But a quieter part of me wondered if I was next. If the village was gone, what was keeping me here? Was I staying in Colorado for the love of the place, or because I hadn't yet worked up the courage to consider that it wasn't my forever home?

I had a personal reckoning

One morning, I found myself alone at a trailhead that I'd visited hundreds of times before. The wind whistled as I began my ascent, and the familiarity of dirt trails eased my sorrow as I climbed.

I'd spent years using the mountains as medicine whenever life became too loud, heavy, or uncertain. They'd been a constant I'd craved: tall, indifferent, and unmoved by the concerns of men.

I wondered what my life would look like if I maintained my conviction to stay. Although the landscape of my life kept shifting like tectonic plates, I was exactly where I wanted to be. I decided to stay in Denver and build a new community.

• I love taking a quick Amtrak ride to Oceanside, California, a low-key beach city.
• It costs around $30 to get there from Los Angeles, and I've found affordable places to stay, too.
• The gorgeous beaches are relatively quiet, and there are great restaurants within walking distance.

There's nothing I love more than skipping town for a beachy weekend getaway.

As much as I like living in Los Angeles, sometimes I need a break from the city's traffic, crowds, and hustle culture. One of my favorite places to explore is Oceanside, a coastal military city in San Diego County.

I first discovered this spot in 2022, after looking up Amtrak's Pacific Surfliner route. On my first trip there, I fell in love with Oceanside's surfer vibes, vibrant food and culture, and surprising affordability.

Even getting there is easy — you can take a two-hour train for around $30 from LA, or an hourlong, $18 ride from San Diego.

Since my initial trip, I've been to O'side three times on the train, and I'm always discovering new things to love. Here's what makes a train ride down to Oceanside the perfect weekend reset.

Taking the train helps me immediately ease into vacation mode

For me, the trip really begins the moment I board the train. Without the stress of driving, I can relax with some of my favorite hobbies like reading, watching Netflix, or writing in my journal.

Although it takes almost an hour longer to get there by train than by car, the free time makes it worth it.

When my husband comes along, we like to talk and have a glass of wine or a snack from the onboard café. It's nice to just enjoy each other's company and watch the sparkling ocean views rush by.

Spending time by the water is always at the top of my list

When I arrive, I usually head straight to the beach. Depending on my mood, I'll either lie in the sand or walk the boardwalk (called The Strand) with a cold drink in hand.

Without fail, there are always surfers out on the water making good use of the prime wave real estate. On one of my last visits, I even stumbled across a surf competition right by the pier. I loved watching the surfers expertly maneuver through the ocean.

Although I'm not a surfer myself, watching them does inspire me to get out on the water, too. I usually head over to Harbor Village to rent a kayak — it's such a thrill to paddle out and watch sea lions sunning themselves underneath the iconic Oceanside sign.

The walkable food and drink scene keeps me coming back

I'm a big foodie, so trying local restaurants is always on my agenda when traveling. For a laid-back beach town, the food and drink scene in Oceanside is impressive, with everything from casual cafés and gastropubs to Michelin-starred fine dining.

I can fill up on banana lattes and avocado toast at Banana Dang in the morning, grab some fresh ceviche overlooking the harbor at Lighthouse Oyster Bar & Grill, and relax in the evening with drinks and apps at the Cococabana rooftop bar.

Best of all, most of my favorite places are all within walking distance of each other, making it convenient to get around without a car.

Art and culture are easy to find here

Although I could easily spend all my time at the beach, O'side also has an arts scene that I've really come to enjoy.

Murals are everywhere, especially along Artist Alley, a strip of funky shops that regularly hosts artisan markets. I've also come across tai chi classes on the beach, street fairs like the weekly Sunset Market, and an art walk and drum circle in front of the public library.

For a more traditional art experience, I also love checking out the Oceanside Museum of Art to view their rotating exhibits or attend an event.

Later in the day, I love catching some live music at The Jazzy Wishbone or Sound by the Sea, a local listening bar.

It's an easy, affordable beachside escape from LA or San Diego

There are a lot of beach towns in SoCal, but staying right by the water is usually pretty expensive. Oceanside, however, is surprisingly affordable, making it easy to plan a weekend close to the beach.

Every time I've gone, I've found overnight accommodations — even two-bedroom rentals — for under $200 a night.

Between how easy it is to arrive by train, navigate the area, and stick to a budget while seeing and eating everything Oceanside has to offer, this is the rare kind of beach escape that actually feels relaxing from start to finish.

• The US has diverse architecture across its 50 states.
• History, art, and local aesthetics are all reflected in some of America's coolest buildings.
• From prehistoric dwellings to kitschy designs, these buildings make for unique attractions.

Throughout its nearly 250-year history, the United States has produced some striking and unique architecture.

From preserving local history to showcasing each region's unique cultural quirks, these 51 buildings across the US are worthy destinations for your next travel list.

Defining what we consider to be the "coolest" is hard. We evaluated every state on its own terms and found that the architecture across all 50 states and Washington, DC, can be as diverse as the country's population.

In states like California and Massachusetts, it meant picking buildings that look futuristic and elegant, like something out of a science-fiction movie.

In other states, like Maine and the Carolinas, we found that the coolest buildings are distinctive because of their place in history or the state's culture.

Whether you're looking for a piece of history or a glimpse into the future, these buildings can show you what different worlds look like.

James Grebey and Jacob Shamsian contributed to an earlier version of this story.

ALABAMA: Gulf, Mobile, and Ohio Passenger Terminal

The Gulf, Mobile, and Ohio Passenger Terminal in Mobile, Alabama, which has Spanish influences with its cream walls and red clay tiles, was designed by P. Thornton Marye. It was completed in 1907 and has undergone restoration since passenger train service ceased in the 1950s.

ALASKA: The University of Alaska's Museum of the North

The University of Alaska Museum of the North is home to numerous exhibits showcasing the native cultures, natural wonders, and wildlife of our nation's largest state. It's also a stylish refuge from the cold.

ARIZONA: Chapel of the Holy Cross

The Chapel of the Holy Cross in Sedona was completed in 1956, and it juts majestically from a red stone butte, some 200 feet above the ground.

ARKANSAS: Thorncrown Chapel

The beautiful Thorncrown Chapel in Eureka Springs looks like an open-air structure, but it's actually a serene, glass-enclosed architectural marvel.

CALIFORNIA: The Chemosphere

It was designed in 1960, but the Chemosphere still looks futuristic. It's a house with 2,200 square feet of space, perched atop a 30-foot concrete pole. And it's survived every major Californian earthquake in the San Fernando Valley since it was built.

COLORADO: Cliff Palace in Mesa Verde National Park

Mesa Verde National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, features some of the best-preserved prehistoric landscapes of the Ancestral Puebloan people. These ancient dwellings, where the Ancestral Puebloans once lived, were constructed on the sides of natural cliffs.

While most dwellings had only one to five rooms, the Cliff Palace, the largest known cliff dwelling in North America, had 150 rooms, 23 sacred meeting spaces, and housed about 100 people, according to the National Park Service.

CONNECTICUT: Grace Farms

The main feature of Grace Farms in New Canaan is a serpentine wooden pavilion that links glass-walled rooms, including a library, stage, tea room, and a gym with a full basketball court. Completed in 2015, it's open to the public for free.

DELAWARE: Wilmington's Grand Opera House

The country's oldest state has some classic buildings that stand the test of time. Wilmington's Grand Opera House, built in 1871, is as classic as it gets.

FLORIDA: The Salvador Dalí Museum

The Salvador Dalí Museum in St. Petersburg is a fittingly unique tribute to the beloved master of surrealism. The museum boasts the largest collection of Dalí's work outside Europe.

GEORGIA: The Earth Lodge on Ocmulgee Mounds National Historical Park

This might not look much like other buildings in this list, but the Ocmulgee Mounds National Park's Earth Lodge dates back to the year 1015, per the National Park Service.

The lodge is a reconstructed council chamber of the native Mississippian culture. While the walls and ceiling were reconstructed in the late 1930s, the clay floor remains the same as the original, dating back over a thousand years.

HAWAII: ʻIolani Palace

ʻIolani Palace in Honolulu is the only royal palace on United States soil. David Kalākaua, the last reigning king of Hawaii and the first monarch to travel around the world, was inspired by the European palaces he saw during his 1881 voyage.

IDAHO: The Dog Bark Park Inn

The Dog Bark Park Inn in Cottonwood is a delightful piece of American kitsch. The bed and breakfast is shaped like two charming beagles.

ILLINOIS: Bahá'í House of Worship

Although there are between 5 and 6 million adherents to the Bahá'í Faith, there are only eight continental houses of worship worldwide. The one in Wilmette, Illinois, is the oldest still standing, and the only one in the United States.

INDIANA: West Baden Springs Hotel

When the West Baden Springs Hotel opened in 1902, it was billed as the Eighth Wonder of the World. While enjoying the view from inside the massive domed atrium — at one point the largest in the world — it's easy to see why.

IOWA: Grotto of the Redemption

Father Paul Dobberstein promised to build a shrine to the Virgin Mary as she helped cure his grave case of pneumonia. His resulting Grotto of the Redemption in West Bend is made of rocks, shells, fossils, and gems pressed into concrete. It's the size of a football field.

KANSAS: Big Well in Greensburg

The Big Well in Greensburg is a museum that rests atop its titular main attraction: the largest hand-dug well in the world, spanning 32 feet in diameter and reaching a depth of 109 feet.

KENTUCKY: Churchill Downs

Churchill Downs, most famously the host of the Kentucky Derby, can hold 120,000 excited, sometimes rowdy, racing fans at max capacity.

LOUISIANA: The Pontalba Buildings

The Pontalba Buildings, which make up two sides of New Orleans' Jackson Square, are emblematic of the French Quarter. Some of the residences on the upper floors are believed to be the oldest continuously rented apartments in the country.

MAINE: The Portland Head Light

The Portland Head Light — one of the state's many lighthouses — has been around since 1791. It was built under the directive of George Washington himself.

MARYLAND: The American Visionary Art Museum

The American Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore showcases outsider art. All the works within its wonky exterior were made by inspired, self-taught creators.

MASSACHUSETTS: Simmons Hall at MIT

Simmons Hall at MIT is the coolest dorm building in the US. It looks like a monstrous Tetris piece combined with underground caverns.

MICHIGAN: Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History

The museum, one of the oldest and largest dedicated to African American history, is a three-story building designed with influences of African and local Detroit architecture. The building features a stunning 55-foot-tall glass dome ceiling.

MINNESOTA: The Marjorie McNeely Conservatory

The Marjorie McNeely Conservatory at Saint Paul's Como Park was opened to the public in 1915 and features Japanese, Bonsai, and butterfly gardens, among others.

MISSISSIPPI: Gehry's Pods at the Ohr-O'Keefe Museum of Art

Designed by Frank Gehry — whose striking work also includes the Louis Vuitton Foundation in Paris, the Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles, and the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao in Spain — the curved metal pods, which house pottery at Biloxi's Ohr-O'Keefe Museum of Art, are meant to look as if they were "dancing with the trees," per the museum's website.

MISSOURI: The Community Bookshelf

The parking garage at the Kansas City Library is called the Community Bookshelf. It displays the giant spines of 22 classic books that were suggested by Kansas City readers.

MONTANA: Montana State Capitol building

Construction started on the Montana State Capitol in 1896. The inside of the rotunda salutes four types of people central to the state's early history: a native American, an explorer, a gold miner, and a cowboy.

NEBRASKA: Nebraska State Capitol Building

The Nebraska Capitol in Lincoln is one of the greatest state capitol buildings in the US. Built between 1922 and 1932, the building features artworks representing the development of law and the state of Nebraska.

NEVADA: Ward Charcoal Ovens

The distinctive beehive-shaped Ward Charcoal Ovens in Ely were built for silver mining back in the 1870s, and they still look like nothing else on the landscape.

NEW HAMPSHIRE: Mount Washington Hotel

Built in 1902, the Mount Washington Hotel — today operating as the Omni Mount Washington Resort — is one of the last remaining grand hotels in the state, and is rumored to be haunted.

NEW JERSEY: Nassau Hall at Princeton University

Nassau Hall is the oldest building at Princeton University, dating back to the 1750s. While it now houses the school's administrative offices, during the Revolutionary War it was occupied by both British and American forces and suffered damage during the battles.

NEW MEXICO: Taos Pueblo

Hundreds of years old, the Taos Pueblo is a multi-story complex built by Native Americans from the region. It looks like one big, molded piece, and it's still used as a residence.

NEW YORK: The Chrysler Building

The Empire State Building gets all the hype, but it's the Chrysler Building that's really the most magnificent skyscraper in New York City. The Art Deco-style building was the tallest in the world when it was built, but it was beaten out by — you guessed it — the Empire State Building just 11 months later.

NORTH CAROLINA: The Executive Mansion

Give it to North Carolina for having its most beautiful building designated as a civil landmark. The state's Executive Mansion in Raleigh is the home of the governor and a high-profile event venue that's open to public tours.

NORTH DAKOTA: The North Dakota Heritage Center

At the center of the North Dakota Heritage Center in Bismarck is a great glass cube flanked by two copper-colored wings. It's the home of the state's greatest treasures, including Native American historical artifacts and lots of dinosaur fossils.

OHIO: The Longaberger Company building

The Longaberger Company, which makes baskets, made a building in Newark that perfectly matches its brand. The building was closed in 2016, and it has largely sat idle since.

Plans for the property have included a hotel, a coworking space, and, most recently, a mixed-use development, but it still has an unclear path for the future.

OKLAHOMA: First Americans Museum

The First Americans Museum's 175,000-square-foot building in Oklahoma pays homage to the state's indigenous populations and their history. The design is inspired by the importance placed on the rising and setting sun by Native populations, with the Remembrance Walls being aligned with the sunrise.

The central half-dome is supported by 10 pillars of various stones, each representing a 10-mile stretch traveled by Native people during forced removal from their original homelands, according to the museum's website.

OREGON: The Portland Building

In 2009, Travel + Leisure famously called The Portland Building "one of the most hated buildings in America," and its reputation is split among architecture critics. But its shapes, strange geometric clashes of glass and stone, make it the weird building that Portland most deserves.

PENNSYLVANIA: Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater

Frank Lloyd Wright's 1935 masterpiece Fallingwater remains Pennsylvania's greatest work of architecture. Water falls from each level of the building into the one below, perfectly integrating with the landscape.

RHODE ISLAND: The Breakers

Built as a summer residence for Cornelius Vanderbilt II, The Breakers mansion in Newport has 70 rooms across 138,300 square feet, making it one of the largest houses in the US and an icon of Gilded Age architecture.

SOUTH CAROLINA: The International African American Museum

In South Carolina, the International African American Museum stands on top of 18 13-foot pillars that keep the museum from touching the sacred ground on which it was built.

The museum is situated on the historic site of Gadsden's Wharf in Charleston's Cooper River, which was the last and most significant disembarkation point in North America for enslaved Africans during the transatlantic slave trade, per the US Civil Rights Trail website.

SOUTH DAKOTA: The Corn Palace

The walls of the Corn Palace in Mitchell are adorned with complex murals and art that's all been made out of, you guessed it, corn. The design changes every year.

TENNESSEE: Parthenon in Centennial Park

Built in 1897 for the Tennessee Centennial Exposition — and then reconstructed between 1921 and 1930 — the Parthenon in Centennial Park is a full-sized replica of the Parthenon in Athens, Greece. Today, it's open to the public as an art museum.

TEXAS: James Turrell's Twilight Epiphany skyspace

Designed by renowned artist James Turrell, the "Twilight Epiphany" Skyspace in Houston is a performance space that makes you feel as though you've entered another dimension.

UTAH: Natural History Museum of Utah

The Natural History Museum of Utah in Salt Lake City looks like it could have been carved out of the landscape. It was designed by Todd Schliemann of Ennead Architects.

VERMONT: The Old Round Church

The Old Round Church in Richmond is technically a 16-sided polygon, but it's still enough of a circle to lend credence to a rumor that it was built in that shape so that the Devil had no corners to hide in.

VIRGINIA: Dulles International Airport

If they're done wrong, airports can be the most insufferable place to spend a few hours. But we have to admire Virginia's Dulles International Airport, which almost looks like a futuristic aircraft itself.

WASHINGTON: Seattle Central Library

Forget the idea of a dusty old home for books nobody reads. The Seattle Central Library is a miracle of modern architecture.

WASHINGTON, DC: The United States Capitol

Construction on the Capitol started in 1793.

The United States Capitol is such a mainstay of nightly news and political pop culture that it's easy to take for granted. It's nice to step back once in a while and take in the grandeur and historical significance of this government building that reflects on America's complicated past.

Construction on the Capitol began in September 1793, and much of the structure was built by enslaved workers working alongside free Black and white laborers, per the White House Historical Association. In 2012, a marker was added to the Capitol Visitor Center commemorating the unpaid labor of enslaved people who built the nation's Capitol.

WEST VIRGINIA: The Palace of Gold

The Palace of Gold is a majestic memorial shrine located in the Hare Krishna community of New Vrindaban.

WISCONSIN: The Burke Brise Soleil

The most striking feature of the Milwaukee Art Museum is the Burke Brise Soleil, a towering sunscreen with a 217-foot wingspan. It folds and unfolds twice a day.

WYOMING: Smith Mansion

This wacky-looking building is in the middle of the remote Wapiti Valley. In 1971, architect Francis Lee Smith started building the structure by hand as his and his family's home. After completing the first floor in 1973, he could not stop building. He died after falling from one of the balconies in 1992.

• The 2020 US Census determined the largest city in every state.
• New York City is the biggest US city, followed by Los Angeles and Chicago.
• Some states' most populous cities only have tens of thousands of residents.

Conducted every 10 years, the United States census counts every person living in the US and collects statistics such as age, sex, and household makeup.

A city's population, along with other demographic data, is a key factor in determining its allocations for federal and state funding.

According to 2020 census data, some states' most populous cities only have tens of thousands of residents, while others, like New York City, have more than 8 million.

Take a look at the largest city in every state.

ALABAMA: Birmingham

Population: 200,733

ALASKA: Anchorage

Population: 291,247

ARIZONA: Phoenix

Population: 1,608,139

ARKANSAS: Little Rock

Population: 202,591

CALIFORNIA: Los Angeles

Population: 3,898,747

COLORADO: Denver

Population: 715,522

CONNECTICUT: Bridgeport

Population: 148,654

DELAWARE: Wilmington

Population: 70,898

FLORIDA: Jacksonville

Population: 949,611

GEORGIA: Atlanta

Population: 498,715

HAWAII: Honolulu

Population: 350,964

IDAHO: Boise

Population: 235,684

ILLINOIS: Chicago

Population: 2,746,388

INDIANA: Indianapolis

Population: 887,642

IOWA: Des Moines

Population: 214,133

KANSAS: Wichita

Population: 397,532

KENTUCKY: Louisville

Population: 246,161

LOUISIANA: New Orleans

Population: 383,997

MAINE: Portland

Population: 68,408

MARYLAND: Baltimore

Population: 585,708

MASSACHUSETTS: Boston

Population: 675,647

MICHIGAN: Detroit

Population: 639,111

MINNESOTA: Minneapolis

Population: 429,954

MISSISSIPPI: Jackson

Population: 153,701

MISSOURI: Kansas City

Population: 508,090

MONTANA: Billings

Population: 117,116

NEBRASKA: Omaha

Population: 486,051

NEVADA: Las Vegas

Population: 641,903

NEW HAMPSHIRE: Manchester

Population: 115,644

NEW JERSEY: Newark

Population: 311,549

NEW MEXICO: Albuquerque

Population: 564,559

NEW YORK: New York City

Population: 8,804,190

NORTH CAROLINA: Charlotte

Population: 874,579

NORTH DAKOTA: Fargo

Population: 125,990

OHIO: Columbus

Population: 905,748

OKLAHOMA: Oklahoma City

Population: 681,054

OREGON: Portland

Population: 652,503

PENNSYLVANIA: Philadelphia

Population: 1,603,797

RHODE ISLAND: Providence

Population: 190,934

SOUTH CAROLINA: Charleston

Population: 150,227

SOUTH DAKOTA: Sioux Falls

Population: 192,517

TENNESSEE: Nashville

Population: 689,447

TEXAS: Houston

Population: 2,304,580

UTAH: Salt Lake City

Population: 199,723

VERMONT: Burlington

Population: 44,743

VIRGINIA: Virginia Beach

Population: 459,470

WASHINGTON: Seattle

Population: 737,015

WEST VIRGINIA: Charleston

Population: 48,864

WISCONSIN: Milwaukee

Population: 577,222

WYOMING: Cheyenne

Population: 65,132

• Every US state has a capitol that houses its state legislature.
• Many state capitols are domed buildings similar to the US Capitol, but others are more unique.
• Maryland's State House is the oldest capitol in continuous legislative use in the US.

A state's capitol can tell you a lot about its history.

State capitols house each state's legislative branch of government, executive offices, and other administrative and ceremonial spaces. While their function may be the same across all 50 states, their architectural designs vary.

Many state capitols feature references to their locations, like the Kansas State Capitol is topped by Ad Astra, a statue representing a Kansa (Kaw) warrior, while the New Hampshire State House, built largely from locally quarried granite, nods to the state's "Granite State" identity.

Some buildings date back to the founding of the United States. Maryland's State House in Annapolis, completed in 1779, is the oldest one in continuous use as a legislative center.

Every capitol has a unique look and distinct origin. Here's what the capitol looks like in every state.

Montgomery, Alabama

Alabama's capitol served as the first capital of the Confederacy, and there's a brass star on one of the porticos marking the spot where Jefferson Davis was sworn in as its president, according to the Alabama Historical Commission.

The building that stands today was constructed in 1851, after a fire burned down the original building in 1849, according to the Alabama Historical Commission.

One of the more famous parts of the capitol grounds is the Avenue of Flags. It has the flag of every state, plus a native rock from each state at the base of its flag. It was dedicated in 1968, according to Exploring Montgomery.

Juneau, Alaska

The Alaska State Capitol, completed in 1931, doesn't look much different from any other office building in Juneau, save for the marble columns. According to Alaska's official website, it is one of the few state capitols that do not feature a dome.

As The New York Times reported in 1981, neither the building nor the location was popular with locals — both were chosen because of cost concerns shaping both construction and relocations. Voters approved a measure in the 1970s to move the capitol, but the effort ultimately failed.

As recently as 2022, Alaskan senators sponsored a bill to move the capital, this time to Willow, reported Alaska Public Media, but for now, Juneau remains the Last Frontier's capital city.

Phoenix, Arizona

Arizona's capitol was dedicated in 1901. It stopped being the home of the legislative branches of government in 1960, and by 1978, all government officials had been moved to other buildings nearby in an area called the Capitol Complex.

The original building was then officially converted into a museum open to the public.

Little Rock, Arkansas

Arkansas' capitol took 16 years to complete. Construction lasted from 1899 to 1915, and the building was originally designed by architect George R. Mann, with later revisions by Cass Gilbert, according to the Encyclopedia of Arkansas.

This building replaced the State House, which is now the Old State House Museum, according to Arkansas Heritage.

Sacramento, California

The building was constructed between 1860 and 1874, and designed by Reuben S. Clark. It has been listed as a California Historical Landmark since 1974, according to the Historic State Capitol Commission.

Its design was based on the US Capitol in Washington, DC, among other well-known American buildings, according to the State of California Capitol Museum.

The California State Capitol is located inside the 40-acre Capitol Park, which contains trees from around the world, a World Peace Rose Garden, and the Civil War Memorial Grove.

Denver, Colorado

The Colorado Capitol, which was completed in 1901, was also designed to look like the US Capitol, but with a Colorado twist: The dome is covered in real gold leaf donated by gold miners to reference the Colorado Gold Rush from 1858 to 1861, according to the Colorado General Assembly.

Hartford, Connecticut

The current Connecticut State Capitol is actually the third capitol the state has had since the American Revolution. This one, designed by Richard M. Upjohn, opened in 1879, according to Connecticut's official state website.

The golden dome is surrounded by six pairs of statues representing agriculture, commerce, education and law, force and war, science and justice, and music, according to the State Capitol Preservation & Restoration Commission.

Dover, Delaware

The Delaware Legislative Hall was dedicated in 1933 and replaced the Old State House, which is opposite the Hall on the capitol mall. It was designed in the Colonial Revival style by E. William Martin, according to Delaware's official state website.

Washington, DC

The United States Capitol is located on Capitol Hill in DC. It was in construction for decades, partially destroyed in 1814, and then finally finished in 1829, according to Architect of the Capitol. The famous, gigantic dome was later added during an expansive addition in 1855, designed by Thomas U. Walter.

Atop the dome sits the "Statue of Freedom," a 19-foot statue of a woman wearing a battle helmet, holding a sheathed sword in one hand, and a laurel wreath and shield in the other. She's been there since 1863, according to Architect of the Capitol.

Tallahassee, Florida

The current capitol, also called the New Capitol, is located directly in front of the original — together, they form the Capitol Complex. The New Capitol was built in 1977 by architect Edward Durell Stone and the firm of Reynolds, Smith, and Hills, according to the Florida Capitol website.

The website reports the building was designed in an "international style to reflect a modern Florida," and includes a 22-story central tower.

The Old Capitol still stands, and it was restored to its original 1902 glory in the '80s. Currently, the building is the Florida Historic Capitol Museum.

Atlanta, Georgia

Georgia's capitol was finished in 1889 and designed by Willoughby J. Edbrooke and Franklin P. Burnham, according to the city of Atlanta's website. It sits on the site of the former Atlanta City Hall/Fulton County Courthouse, which was there from 1854 to 1994.

According to the city, it's one of 43 National Historic Landmarks in the state.

Honolulu, Hawaii

At the dedication of the Hawaiian capitol in 1969, then-Governor John A. Burns explained the design of the building, the Honolulu Star Advertiser reported.

"In this great State Capitol there are no doors at the grand entrances which open toward the mountains and toward the sea," he said. "There is no roof or dome to separate its vast inner court from the heavens and from the same eternal stars which guided the first voyagers to the primeval beauty of these shores."

The building is also surrounded by a reflecting pool meant to symbolize the Pacific Ocean, which surrounds the chain of 137 recognized islands that make up Hawaii, according to the State of Hawaii.

Boise, Idaho

Idaho's capitol was designed by architects J.E. Tourtellotte and Charles Hummel, and was constructed between 1905 and 1920. According to Idaho's Capitol Commission, it's the only capitol in the US that is heated by geothermal water. It comes from a spring 3,000 feet underground.

Springfield, Illinois

According to a pamphlet by the Illinois Secretary of State's office, the current capitol (the state's sixth) was completed in 1888, 20 years after crews broke ground. At the time of its construction, the limestone dome was illuminated by 144 gas jets. However, the carbon emitted by those jets eventually turned the dome black.

It took 100 years, but it was finally cleaned in 1986.

Indianapolis, Indiana

According to the Indiana Department of Administration, Indiana's capitol was completed in 1888, and is home to all executive offices, the Indiana State Senate, the Indiana House of Representatives, and the Indiana State Supreme Court, among others. It was constructed with Indiana limestone.

Des Moines, Iowa

The large golden dome is 23 carats, and the entire building is 275 feet tall, according to a visitor's guide. It's been re-gilded four times since its construction in 1886.

Overall, Iowa's capitol has a total of five domes, making it the only capitol in the US with five.

Topeka, Kansas

Kansas' capitol dome is topped with a statue called "Ad astra" (Latin for "to the stars"), which is part of the state's motto, "ad astra per aspera" ("to the stars through difficulties"), according to the Kansas Historical Society.

The statue itself is a bronze depiction of a warrior from the Kansa tribe (also known as the Kaw Nation or Kanza), who call Kansas home and gave the state its name.

The entire building took 37 years to construct, also according to the Kansas Historical Society, from 1866 to 1903. 

Frankfort, Kentucky

Kentucky's capitol was designed by Frank Mills Andrews, according to Kentucky's official state website. There are also statues lining the front portico that represent Kentucky, the central figure, with Progress, History, Plenty, Law, Art, and Labor as her "attendants," according to the state website.

The current building is the fourth capitol in the state, and it was completed in 1910.

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

The Louisiana Capitol is just one of nine capitols in the US that doesn't feature a dome — and at 450 feet tall (or 34 floors), it's also the tallest capitol in the country, according to Louisiana's House of Representatives.

It was dedicated in 1932, without the person who had spearheaded the effort to build it, Senator Huey P. Long, a controversial figure in Louisiana's history, as reported by Encyclopedia Britannica.

Augusta, Maine

The capital of Maine was originally Portland when the state broke away from Massachusetts in 1820. But when Mainers asked for a more centrally located capital city, Augusta was chosen in 1827, according to the Maine State Legislature. The building was completed by 1832.

The State House's dome is topped with a female figure of Wisdom, which was designed by sculptor W. Clark Noble of Gardiner, a town 6 miles from Augusta.

Annapolis, Maryland

Maryland's State House is the oldest capitol in continuous legislative use in the US, built in 1779, according to its official website. It's also the only state capitol to have once served as the US capitol when the Continental Congress met there from 1783 to 1784, according to the website.

Boston, Massachusetts

The Massachusetts State House, built in 1789, originally had a wooden dome, but Paul Revere's own company was responsible for covering it in copper in 1802, CBS News reported.

And the land it was built on? It used to be owned by none other than John Hancock, who was Massachusetts' first elected governor.

Lansing, Michigan

The floors of Michigan's capitol, which was dedicated in 1879, are made of limestone and have visible fossils in them, as you can see on the capitol's official website.

St. Paul, Minnesota

According to Explore Minnesota, the state's capitol is the second-largest self-supporting marble dome in the world, only behind St. Peter's Basilica in Rome.

Architect Cass Gilbert insisted on using Georgia marble for the dome, according to the Minnesota Historical Society. Some were critical of using out-of-state materials, so as a compromise, the contractor leased the quarry in Georgia and imported the rough marble so Minnesotans could do the work in-state.

It took nine years, but was completed in 1905.

Jackson, Mississippi

Designed by architect Theodore Link and constructed between 1901 and 1903, Mississippi's state capitol was built on the site of an old state penitentiary, according to the state capitol's official website. The building spans 171,000 square feet and features 4,750 original electric light fixtures, as well as an 8-foot statue of an eagle on the top of its dome.

Jefferson City, Missouri

Missouri's state capitol was completed in 1917, according to its official website. Ceres, the goddess of grain, sits at the top of its dome.

In addition to Missouri's state legislature, the 500,000-square-foot building houses the Missouri State Museum with exhibits about the state's history and natural resources.

Helena, Montana

The main building of Montana's state capitol was completed in 1902, and its two wings were added in 1911 and 1912, according to the Montana Historical Society. Inside, the building features works of art such as the mural "Lewis and Clark Meeting Indians at Ross' Hole," painted by Charles M. Russell in 1912.

Lincoln, Nebraska

Nebraska's state capitol was designed by architect Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue and completed in 1932, according to its official website. The 400-foot tower is topped with a 19-foot bronze statue called "The Sower."

It is the only state legislature to be unicameral, meaning it only has one chamber.

Carson City, Nevada

Nevada's state capitol was built from 1870 to 1871 out of sandstone sourced from a quarry belonging to Abe Curry, the founder of Carson City, according to Travel Nevada. It features a silver-colored dome, a nod to Nevada's nickname as "the silver state."

Concord, New Hampshire

The New Hampshire State House was constructed between 1816 and 1819 with locally sourced granite from Rattlesnake Hill in Concord, according to the New Hampshire Division of Historical Resources.

In 1818, a wooden sculpture of an eagle painted with gold was installed on top of the capitol dome. It was replaced with a copper replica in 1957, but the original sculpture can be viewed on display inside the capitol, according to EverGreene, the architecture firm that restored the State House's gold-plated dome.

Trenton, New Jersey

After Maryland, New Jersey State House is the second-oldest capitol still in use, completed in 1792, according to the state of New Jersey's official website. Much of the original building, designed by architect Jonathan Doane, was destroyed in a fire in 1885.

Architect Lewis Broome restored the capitol and added a cast-iron dome plated with copper and gold and featuring the Latin phrase "Fiat Justitia Ruat Coelum," meaning  "There must be justice even though the heavens fall."

Santa Fe, New Mexico

New Mexico's capitol, known as the Roundhouse, is the only round capitol in the US, according to Santa Fe's official tourist website. Architect Willard C. Kruger modeled the design after the Zia sun symbol, which he also incorporated into the capitol rotunda skylight. The symbol is also part of New Mexico's state flag.

Albany, New York

When New York's state capitol in Albany was finally finished after 32 years in 1899, it was at a cost of $25 million, making it one of the most expensive government projects in the US. In 2013, The New York Times reported the figure was equivalent to more than half a billion dollars today.

Inside the granite building, visitors can find 25 murals by William deLeftwich Dodge in the Governor's Reception Room.

Raleigh, North Carolina

Completed in 1840, North Carolina's 3-story capitol includes a copper dome, according to the National Park Service.

Bismarck, North Dakota

North Dakota's state capitol is the tallest building in the state at 241 feet and 8 inches tall, according to the official government website. The Art-Deco structure is nicknamed the "Skyscraper on the Prairie," according to the Society of Architecture Historians.

Columbus, Ohio

Construction of the Ohio Statehouse took over 20 years, from 1839 to 1861, according to its official website. Much of the work was done by prisoners at Ohio Penitentiary, some of whom left graffiti on the walls that was uncovered during restoration work, the website says. Built in the Greek-Revival architecture style out of Columbus limestone, the Statehouse is a designated National Historic Landmark.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

Built in 1917, the dome on Oklahoma's capitol was added more recently, in 2002, according to the Oklahoma Historical Society — it was left out of the original construction due to costs. The grounds of Oklahoma's capitol also had active oil rigs until 1986. The building was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1976.

Salem, Oregon

Oregon's Art Deco capitol is made of white Vermont marble with a gold statue of an "Oregon Pioneer" atop the dome, according to the capitol's official website. In-person guided tours are paused due to construction.

Harrisburg, Pennsylvania

Pennsylvania's capitol, designed by architect Joseph Huston, cost $13 million to build when it was completed in 1906, which would be over $403 million today, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics.

The building's 272-foot dome is decorated with green glazed terra cotta tile, according to the capitol's official website.

Providence, Rhode Island

The Rhode Island State House, built between 1895 and 1904, features the fourth-largest freestanding marble dome in the world, according to the Rhode Island Restoration Committee's official website. It has been listed on the National Register of Historic Places since 1970.

Columbia, South Carolina

The construction of the South Carolina State House began in 1854, but halted due to the Civil War. The building still features cannonball marks from when the Union army captured Columbia in 1865, according to Discover South Carolina. The State House was finally completed in 1903, and it was designated as a National Historic Landmark in 1976, according to the South Carolina Department of Archives and History.

A portrait of state senator Clementa Pinckney, who was killed in the 2015 shooting at Charleston's Mother Emanuel AME Church, hangs in the Senate Gallery.

Pierre, South Dakota

South Dakota's state capitol was constructed between 1905 and 1910, not long after South Dakota became a US state in 1889, according to the South Dakota Bureau of Administration. An annex was added in 1932. The Neoclassical building features scagliola plaster columns, war memorials, and stained-glass windows, according to Travel South Dakota.

Nashville, Tennessee

The Tennessee State Capitol opened in 1859. The architect, William Strickland, died during its construction in 1854 and was buried on the capitol grounds along with President James K. Polk and first lady Sarah Childress Polk, according to the Tennessee State Museum.

Austin, Texas

Completed in 1888, the Texas State Capitol dome is topped with a statue of Libertas, the goddess of liberty, according to the official website for the Texas House of Representatives. It stands 14 feet taller than the US Capitol.

Salt Lake City, Utah

Utah's State Capitol was designed by architect Richard K.A. Kletting and was completed in 1916, according to its official website. The rotunda features bronze and marble statues of Native American leaders, LDS pioneers, and US presidents such as Abraham Lincoln, according to its website.

Montpelier, Vermont

The Vermont State House, designed in the Greek Revival architecture style, dates back to 1857, according to the National Park Service. A statue of Ceres, the goddess of agriculture, adorns the top of the dome.

Richmond, Virginia

Thomas Jefferson designed Virginia's state capitol to look like the ancient Roman temple of Maison Carée, according to the Virginia General Assembly's official website. The building also features a bronze statue of Jefferson, who is depicted holding the capitol's architectural blueprints.

Olympia, Washington

The Washington State Legislative Building features the tallest freestanding masonry dome in North America at 287 feet, according to the Washington State Department of Enterprise Services. Designed by Walter Wilder and Harry White, it was completed in 1928.

Charleston, West Virginia

West Virginia's capitol, designed by Cass Gilbert, took eight years and almost $10 million to construct before its completion in 1932, according to its official website. The dome stands at 293 feet tall — 5 feet higher than the US Capitol in Washington, DC.

Madison, Wisconsin

Wisconsin's state capitol features the only granite dome in the US, according to Travel Wisconsin. On top of the dome, a gilded bronze statue by Daniel Chester French is aptly named "Wisconsin."

Cheyenne, Wyoming

Wyoming's state capitol, constructed between 1886 and 1890, was built in the Renaissance Revival architecture style, according to the Wyoming Department of Administration and Information. It is one of 20 state capitols designated as a National Historic Landmark, according to the National Park Service.

• After going on over 20 cruises in the last 10 years, I've picked up some unconventional tips.
• A roll of duct tape is easy enough to pack and comes in handy for small emergencies.
• I also like to book spa appointments on port days because they tend to be cheaper.

I've been on over 20 cruises in the last decade, and always have another one on the horizon.

Throughout the years, I've accumulated an array of helpful travel tips, but my favorite hacks go beyond the usual advice like downloading the cruise line's app and packing a lanyard.

Here are five unconventional cruise tips I swear by that make life on board easier, more comfortable, and more cost-effective. 

I always pack a roll of duct tape, which can fix almost everything.

I always add duct tape to my list of things to pack because it's easy to bring and comes in handy for small emergencies.

For example, I've used it to repair a broken suitcase in a pinch or to bind flip-flops back together long enough to limp to the gift shop to buy a replacement pair.

On one recent cruise, I even used it to cover the motion sensor on the light in our room, which turned on automatically whenever someone walked between the bed and the bathroom.

Though a motion-sensor hall light was convenient in theory, we didn't want to wake each other up if we got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. We just made sure to remove the tape before we left.

For an elevated shower experience, I like to visit the gym.

In my experience, cruise ship bathrooms are designed to be efficient, not spacious. The small shower gets the job done, but it's definitely cramped, especially if you're a bigger person.

I've found that the showers in the gym are almost always larger and sometimes have additional bathroom amenities, such as mouthwash and elevated bath towels.

Doing laundry on board makes packing for longer cruises much easier.

There's usually a laundry or ironing room tucked away on deck for guests. I always make use of these rooms, as washing clothes mid-trip is a great way to minimize how much I need to pack.

Cruise cabins are small, and storage space is limited, so doing laundry on board is the perfect solution.

Plus, I've found these rooms are a surprisingly good place to meet interesting people.

I like to book spa appointments on port days.

Port days are often quieter on the ship because most passengers are ashore exploring.

If I'm not excited about a particular stop or I've visited it before, I consider staying on board and going to the spa instead.

On sea days, it can be tough to book a facial or massage, but on port days, I've found the schedule tends to be much more open. There are often money-saving specials, too, and the relaxation rooms feel so much more peaceful.

I rarely book a room with a balcony.

In my opinion, a room with a balcony isn't essential unless you're on an Alaskan cruise, where being able to take in the scenery is important.

On my first cruise, a travel agent told me I "had" to book a room with a balcony, and that once I did, I'd never be able to cruise in an interior cabin again. However, I don't think that's true.

I love a luxe stateroom as much as the next person, but I've had just as much fun on cruises where we've booked the cheapest cabin without any windows.

This story was originally published on November 21, 2025, and most recently updated on April 27, 2026.

• Before I had kids, I didn't put much thought or prep into my travel plans.
• A few encounters while abroad have made me change my ways now that I often have kids with me.
• I now travel with apostilled copies of their birth certificates and a letter from their father.

Before kids, I traveled the world alone with nothing more than a backpack and a worn guidebook. I rarely made plans in advance and enjoyed the spontaneity and surprises that were a part of globetrotting without much advance planning.

Once I started traveling with my children, that approach seemed irresponsible and, at times, downright dangerous. Now, I put a lot more care and thought into my trips before leaving home.

As someone who has taken my kids to 30 countries on six continents, I've found that a little advanced planning goes a long way. Here are the four steps I always take before traveling with my kids to help ensure that our trips go smoothly and that we all stay safe.

I always look up the emergency number for wherever we are.

Once, while driving in Canada with my kids, I got lost in a dark, industrial neighborhood at night. No one was around, and I started to feel uneasy, unsure if anyone was lurking in the shadows.

At home, I knew I could call 9-1-1 for assistance in an emergency. However, as my panic level started to rise, I realized I didn't know who to call for help in Canada. (I've since learned the number to dial is actually 9-1-1, but that's not the case for most other countries.)

Eventually, I found my way back to civilization, no worse for wear. However, now I always look up the emergency number to call when I land.

On a subsequent trip to Paris, an Uber began veering wildly off course. It turned out the driver had detoured due to construction, but I was glad I knew to dial 1-1-2 instead of 9-1-1 if I thought my kids were in danger.

I double-check that my health insurance covers us wherever we are going

When I was young and reckless, I assumed I would never get sick or injured, especially on a trip. In hindsight, I was remarkably lucky that I never caught more than a mild case of Montezuma's Revenge abroad.

After a health scare on a trip to Jamaica, I no longer take any chances. Midway through what was supposed to be a relaxing trip, my son developed a fever and started vomiting. The resort where we were staying called a doctor who suspected appendicitis. I panicked, wondering if our insurance would cover a pricey operation or medical evacuation.

Fortunately, my son recovered quickly with an antibiotic, but now I always double-check that our health insurance will cover us abroad, including to far-flung destinations like Antarctica. If not, I will look into buying travel insurance that will cover medical care and evacuation. Before travel, I also check that my children have all the recommended vaccines for our trip.

I always pack my children's birth certificates

My first trip abroad after becoming a mother was to a destination wedding in the Caribbean. I was allowed in easily with my infant son strapped to my chest. However, leaving was not so easy. When trying to return home, a border guard questioned me extensively, asking for proof that I was the baby's mother. I managed to convince the agent that I was indeed my son's mother, but the situation rattled me.

To avoid a similar issue, I now carry official copies of my children's birth certificates when we travel abroad. For good measure, I had the documents apostilled by the Secretary of State for Washington, DC, where they were born. An apostille is a type of verification similar to notarization, but it is recognized in more than 125 countries worldwide, making it a better choice for international travel.

Although this may seem like overkill, I have been asked for proof that my children are mine twice, once when entering the United States and once when entering the U.K. Although I likely could have proven my children are mine without these documents, I don't want to take any chances, and having them on hand made the process much easier and faster.

I get a notarized letter from my children's father stating that I have permission to travel with them

Although my husband and I are happily married, his demanding work schedule often leaves me traveling solo with our kids. On several occasions, immigration officials have asked me for proof that I had my husband's permission to take my children abroad.

Once, I was asked for the same documentation when returning to the United States. Now, I always carry a notarized letter of consent signed by my husband. I use a free template I found online and update it with the specific dates and location for every trip, then I take it to my bank to have it notarized for free before we go.

Although carrying additional documents can be a pain, I remind myself that additional paperwork is for my children's protection because it helps combat child trafficking and kidnapping.

• Every spring break, I travel with five of my friends and our kids for a quick getaway.
• This year, we rented a huge cabin in Branson, Missouri, and had a great time.
• The kids don't always get along, but we solve issues quickly, and split costs and chores.

Every spring break, I travel with my two sons, five college friends, and all their kids for a short getaway. This year, we rented a cabin near Branson, Missouri, for three days and nights of sleepovers, swimming, and hitting the parks. In total, six moms and 16 kids, ranging from 3 months to 11 years, attended.

The kids enjoy their time together, and so do the moms

It's such a special experience. The age gaps among the kids foster special friendships and mentor-like relationships. And because we're all together for an extended amount of time, the moms also get to know each child better. It's sort of an all-moms-on-deck situation, and kids simply look to the nearest mom to ask for something. It's a situation of instant closeness and confidence, and it creates incredible bonds with kids I don't get to see often enough.

Then, once the kids go to bed, the moms stay up talking, having a few beers or glasses of wine, and playing cards. One night, we hooked an old drive to the TV and swiped through 15-year-old pictures while laughing hysterically.

We all live between 20 minutes and 3 hours apart, but Kansas, where we live, has a statewide spring break, so despite covering six school districts, we're all off the same dates.

We started doing it to make it easier to see each other

It started four years ago, when one of my friends began planning to spend spring break visiting all our homes. She was scheduling play dates and sleepovers at multiple stops. However, it turned out to be a challenge, and there were too many changes to the itinerary to make it all run smoothly. She ended up cutting the trip short after two stops. The next year, she thought we should all go someplace neutral. We'd all book a place together.

This year, we found a cabin with seven king-sized beds, a bunk room, and 6.5 bathrooms. It also came with a huge kitchen, two large dining tables (one was used strictly for crafts), a movie theater, and a game room.

We split costs, as well as tasks like cooking and cleaning

We all work in middle management and midlevel careers, so we're also in a midlevel budget. This was our most expensive trip, at around $150 per night per family for the accommodations. For food, we order in groceries — pizza, chicken nuggets, tons of snacks — nothing gourmet, we know the audience. We plan the menu together, then split six ways and Venmo. This year, we spent around $500 on food, with plenty to take home after all was said and done. In total, each mom spent just over $530, plus gas.

While we were there, we had plenty of fun by swimming or heading to the park. We also brought games from home and did activities like crafts, bracelet-making, and coloring. Some kids are allotted screen time, and others aren't, though we did have a movie night with popcorn.

As for cooking and cleaning, it's a house full of working moms: things are done in almost no time because everyone chips in. It's actually easier than at home because there are way more hands doing the job. One evening, my husband called, and after a 10-minute phone call, I returned to find dinner put away with a spotless kitchen and living area.

The kids get along — for the most part

Logistically, it works like this: the mom closest by is in charge. Though we vary slightly in parenting styles, our similarities make this possible in the first place. We spoke in advance about how we get along and what we allow. (A real text exchange outlined rules for fart jokes.)

The kids absolutely fight — it's three days in a shared space. They didn't want to take turns playing games, couldn't agree on a movie, and there may have been a joke or two made that someone else took personally. Normal kid stuff. However, there are enough activities and enough kids to play with that they were easily redirected. Besides, learning to get along is a life skill.

Meanwhile, it's fun to see which ages and personalities flock together, and not always the ones you expect. They find shared hobbies and interests while creating close-knit friendships with kids they otherwise rarely get to see. All while I get quality time with my friends. It's an experience I can't praise enough, and I'm thankful it's one we get to continue.

• Every December, I travel with my mother-in-law and wife. This year, we took a trip to Charleston.
• Encouraging my mother-in-law to help plan led us to experiences we wouldn't have found on our own.
• We built the days around what she could handle and took turns picking activities and restaurants.

My wife, Cece, moved from Texas to Australia 12 years ago, but we still head back to the US every Christmas.

While we're home, the two of us take a trip with her mother, Liz. Liz's partner, Pete, doesn't like to travel, so this annual December trip is her primary holiday.

In the past, we've headed to Nashville, Seattle, and Washington DC. At the end of last year, we spent four days in Charleston and had a wonderful trip.

We picked activities at Liz's pace and took turns choosing experiences

Over the years, we've learned that Liz enjoys a trip more when she can help shape it rather than just show up for it. So before heading to Charleston, I had a visitor's brochure mailed to her in Texas.

The day it arrived, she called with a list of things she had already researched and wanted to try, including a Gullah Geechee tour to learn about the history and culture of the descendants of enslaved Africans who settled along the Carolina coast.

Bus and walking tours were available, and we chose the bus even though I would've preferred the latter.

It was important for us to consider what would be most sustainable for my 75-year-old mother-in-law when booking activities. Riding the bus meant Liz could arrive at lunch with energy instead of blisters.

Throughout the trip, we also took turns selecting activities so no one felt left out. My choice was a cocktail-making class, which is also indoors and offers plenty of seating.

Liz drinks a little but would never have thought to book a class like this herself, which is another perk of taking turns: You get to try things you never thought you would.

The class ended up being just the three of us at a bar with a 25-year-old instructor. We learned how the Old Fashioned got its name, what makes a good bartender, and that Liz pours generously. Her first attempt overflowed.

By the third round, Liz was jiggling the shaker like a professional and informing us she was keeping up with "the young kids."

The instructor even invited her behind the bar. She posed for the camera, and we sent the video straight to Pete. He replied: "Oh boy. She's really loving this."

Liz also chose for us to visit the Charleston City Market, a stretch of local vendors and artists that has been running for centuries.

We'd planned to stop for an hour and stayed for over two as Liz watched sweetgrass baskets being woven, bought Christmas ornaments, and talked to every artisan who'd stand still long enough.

I walked ahead and checked my watch several times, but tried to stay patient. Liz had taken a whole cocktail-making class she'd never have picked herself, so two hours at the market felt fair.

Each of us got to choose a meal, too

Over our four days, we each picked a meal to share. Liz chose Lewis BBQ, partly because it's run by a fellow Texan, which she felt was a good sign.

She takes barbecue seriously, and the brisket was the real test. Her wide post-bite smile told me the barbecue had passed.

I took us to Southern restaurant Poogan's Porch one night so we could order shrimp and grits, something I'd never tried.

Cece chose to get breakfast on our last morning at Callie's Hot Little Biscuits. We ordered a range of sweet and savory bites, and Cece and I managed to take down one biscuit each.

Liz had two and a half and immediately bought a box to take home.

In the end, a few things made the trip work

Encouraging my mother-in-law to plan from Texas meant she arrived at our destination already invested with ideas we'd never have found on our own.

Picking activities at a pace that suited everyone, like the Gullah Geechee bus tour and the cocktail-making class, meant no one was worn out by dinner — and taking turns meant nobody got dragged through someone else's idea of fun for too long.

At the end of the trip, Liz flew home to San Antonio with biscuits, cocktail recipes, and Christmas ornaments. Her partner said she looked like she was having the time of her life in the photos and videos we sent, though the cocktails are still a work in progress.

We've already begun planning this December's trip, so I should probably send a new brochure to Liz soon.

• My husband and I spent nearly three years traveling the country in a camper van.
• I got pregnant earlier than expected, forcing us to make a decision quickly.
• Letting go of vanlife helped us realize what we actually wanted in our next chapter.

I sat in the bathroom staring at the blue cross sign on the pregnancy test, as expletives leaked out of my mouth in a whisper. Disbelief sat around me like the 4 a.m. dew outside our window.

We always wanted kids. Traveling in a camper van was our "last hurrah" before pivoting toward parenthood. But that wasn't supposed to happen yet.

The shock bubbled away, and excitement found home in my body. I smiled and covered my hand over my mouth.

We don't always get to choose our own timelines. I rushed to my husband, John, to wake him up.

This was our one last adventure before having kids

My husband and I were both busy with the 9-5-and-working-odd-jobs hustle. We lived in a large house that we would someday fill with kids. There was a whole world we wanted to see before we tied ourselves down with the responsibility of child rearing. We chose to say goodbye to the life we were told to settle for in pursuit of a life we wanted to celebrate.

Partially on a whim, mostly on adrenaline, we sold most of our belongings and built a 1996 Chevy Express conversion van into a tiny house.

We wanted to explore the country coast to coast before we took on the role of parents. We also wanted to see what our options were for where we would settle down. Do we want to raise kids in a city? In the middle of nowhere? East coast? West coast? Mountain town? Rural Midwest?

We buckled ourselves into our van with our pups and hit the road to rediscover ourselves without the chains of our previous life and to find where we'd like to replace our anchor.

From April 2017 to April 2019, we discovered the magnificent, hidden corners of almost every state. We camped in humid Florida, snowy Vermont, busy California, and sleepy Wyoming.

Every pocket we investigated had something remarkable that ignited our excitement and something tricky that made us second-guess a home there. Each area brought us one step closer to our end goal.

Everything shifted overnight

In March 2019, we were back in St. Louis to visit our family. My period had been irregular ever since I had experimented with hormonal birth control, so we could never quite pin down my cycle.

We were planning our next departure, and I took a pregnancy test to prove I was not pregnant, for our own peace of mind.

This wasn't the timeline we had planned, but one thing living in a van had taught us was to find comfort in the unexpected. Flexibility is one of your greatest tools when you travel full-time. You never know what obstacles are going to throw you off course.

Giddy with excitement, John chose to scrap our plans we had laid out for the rest of the year. We now needed to make our most important decision. Where do we want to have this baby?

Life made us decide which path we wanted to take next

Throughout our travels, we found ourselves returning to New Mexico. The warm sun, the dry air, the beautiful winters, and the towering mountains all took our breath away. It was diverse, eclectic, artistic, and inspiring. We joked it was like Colorado, but without any of the people. We both felt the call and picked up the phone.

Shortly after the positive pregnancy test, we lost the baby. Grief filled the van as we stared at the fork in the road.

We had to decide what we wanted now. Do we want to keep traveling? Or do we want to stay on this new path? The contemplation was minimal. The excitement and the loss had shown us what we wanted. We were ready to grow our family.

Trading in four wheels for four walls

We spent that summer exploring various properties. There was an unexpected grief in the search for a new residence. The van was our home. The road, our driveway. The wild, our backyard. Our identity was tied to the title "vanlifers", which meant we were constantly moving and on the go.

But now we were settling down and growing roots.

We outgrew our lifestyle quicker than we had planned, but we unlocked a new and exciting chapter when we bought an off-grid home on 40 acres. We weren't pumping the brakes on an adventurous life. We were just shifting gears.

"H

ow long have you been living in Singapore?"

It's a question taxi drivers have been asking me since I arrived from New York nearly 20 years ago.

In the beginning, the answer was small, just a year, then two.

My husband and I had come with a two-year plan. Freshly married, we told ourselves it was an exciting chapter in our new life together. We left boxes in the basement of my sister's Brooklyn apartment, assuming we'd be back for them soon.

But as the number crept past that deadline — five years, then 10 — those boxes slowly made their way over.

These days, it's not just taxi drivers asking how long we plan to stay.

My mom comments on how far away we live, now that it includes her two grandchildren. My in-laws gently remind us of the advantages of being closer. Everyone seems to assume there's a logical next stop, a final destination that will eventually make sense of everything.

But somewhere along the way, Singapore stopped feeling like a chapter and started feeling like muscle memory. I've lost my tolerance for cold weather after years in the tropics. Back in New York, walking into someone's apartment without taking off my shoes feels strange.

Still, there are reminders that my life is split across borders. As an American, I file US taxes every year — the US is one of the few countries that require it of citizens abroad — a constant reminder that I'm living between places.

My two kids look genuinely confused when someone asks them, "Where are you from?"

As more families build lives abroad, we're not the only ones being asked that question.

In 2024, about 3.3 million Americans were living overseas — a 15% increase since 2010 — according to a Federal Voting Assistance Program estimate that pieces together tax records, Social Security data, and foreign census figures. Because Americans don't have to register when they move abroad, there's no official count.

In this series, you'll hear from others who have made homes overseas, at different ages, for different reasons, and at different stages of staying, all answering the same question in their own way: Where is home, really?

• President Donald Trump says he plans to sign an order to pay TSA workers amid a DHS shutdown deadlock.
• TSA agents face another missed paycheck, causing travel chaos and extended wait times at airports.
• It is unclear whether Trump has the power to allocate the budget without congressional approval.

President Donald Trump said that he will sign an order "instructing the Secretary of Homeland Security, Markwayne Mullin, to immediately pay our TSA Agents."

Trump made the announcement on Truth Social on Thursday.

"Because the Democrats have recklessly created a true National Crisis, I am using my authorities under the Law to protect our Great Country, as I always will do!" Trump wrote.

It's unclear whether Trump has the power to allocate funds immediately without congressional approval, as the Senate has failed to reach a deal on how to fund DHS. A partial government shutdown began on February 14 due to a stalemate over immigration enforcement, mainly affecting DHS agencies.

The Wall Street Journal reported on Thursday that several Senate Republicans had pressed the White House to consider declaring a national emergency to pay TSA workers.

Trump's comments come as travel chaos intensifies across major national travel hubs. TSA workers are set to miss another paycheck by Friday morning and have begun to call out sick en masse, creating a severe staffing shortage, which is leading to many hours in wait time at TSA checkpoints.

Delta Air Lines suspended travel perks for Congress members and their staff that usually speed up their security checks, citing the government shutdown.

The White House did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

• I lived in Italy for eight years, and I still go back every summer to visit family and enjoy Europe.
• I wish I could go even more often, but it's not always possible to hop on an international flight.
• Luckily, I've found cities in California, Michigan, and Florida that feel like Italy to me.

When I was in college, studying abroad in Italy was a no-brainer. My great-grandparents are from a tiny village just outside Modena, and I was curious about my heritage.

Something that took me by surprise, though, was the realization that I didn't want to leave.

After my semester ended, I lived and worked in Rome throughout my early 20s. Eventually, I moved back to the US and became an Italian teacher.

Although I now live in Chicago, Italy still feels like my second home: I make a point to spend summers there, mainly so my daughter can bond with her nonna.

As lucky as I am to visit Italy every year, I still wish I could go more often. Thankfully, I've discovered a handful of places across the US that capture the energy of my favorite Italian regions.

These cities offer Americans a slice of Italian culture, minus the hourslong flight overseas — and help quench my insatiable thirst for Italy with soul-stirring food, wine, history, and charm.

Catalina Island's hidden coves and crystalline waters feel like Capri.

Located off the coast of southern California, Catalina Island is about 22 miles long. It's easily accessible via ferry service, which operates out of three ports near Los Angeles.

When I first visited Catalina Island, I was awed by the dramatic shorelines, crystal-clear waters, and hidden coves. I felt like I was back on Capri.

I hiked to the top of the Garden to Sky trail, catching panoramic views that felt straight out of a Mediterranean postcard. Then, I soaked up the sunshine at Descanso Beach while sipping a chilled glass of prosecco.

Florida is home to Coral Gables, a city that always reminds me of Lake Como.

With its glamorous Mediterranean-style architecture, lush gardens, and waterfront estates, Coral Gables feels like Florida's answer to Italy's Lake Como.

The Italian Renaissance-inspired Vizcaya Museum and Gardens, built in the early 1900s, reminds me of the grand villas that line Como's shores.

If you plan your own visit, don't forget to check out the Venetian Pool — this public swimming spot was carved from a coral rock quarry, and (true to its name) feels straight out of Italy.

Chicago and Milan are "sister cities," and it's easy to see why.

It's no surprise to me that my hometown of Chicago and the metropolis of Milan are officially sister cities. Both feature vibrant street art, designer boutiques, and — unsurprisingly, maybe — delicious Italian food.

I always recommend that tourists plan a trip to coincide with the Randolph Street Market, a pop-up vintage extravaganza. You can also explore Chicago's dynamic mural scene with a street art tour.

Finally, Chicago's pizza is as hearty and rich as any slices you'd find in Italy. You can't leave my hometown without trying our legendary deep dish.

For a classic experience, head to Giordano's. The stuffed pizza here is a masterpiece of cheese and sauce wrapped in a golden crust.

Sonoma bears an uncanny resemblance to Tuscany.

The first time I visited Sonoma, California, I was struck by how much it resembled the Tuscan countryside, from the golden hills to rustic farmhouses.

When I found myself gathered around a long wooden table at Pedroncelli Winery, surrounded by laughter, clinking glasses, and the comforting scent of fresh herbs and olive oil, I felt wrapped in the same warmth and magic of the Italian countryside.

Perhaps the most obvious similarity, though, is the locals' deep appreciation for wine. You can even immerse yourself in vineyard life by staying at one of the several wineries that offer accommodations.

Venice Beach in California feels just like the Italian city of the same name.

Venice Beach's bohemian vibe and canals are an almost-perfect replica of Venice, Italy.

Developed in 1905, the canals of this coastal Los Angeles neighborhood were designed to look like those in Venice. Whenever I stroll along the picturesque bridges and waterfront homes, I almost feel like I'm in Italy … all that's missing are the gondolas.

Frankenmuth, Michigan, reminds me of the Italian Dolomites.

This Michigan city's Alpine-style buildings, hearty cuisine, and cozy charm really resemble the Dolomites in northeastern Italy.

Moments like browsing handcrafted wooden ornaments at Bronner's Christmas Wonderland (the world's largest Christmas store), enjoying a traditional Alpine feast, and setting off on a riverboat cruise on the Cass River made me feel like I was celebrating Natale — or Christmas — in Europe.

This story was originally published on August 18, 2025, and most recently updated on March 26, 2026.

The government shutdown has created a TSA shortfall, resulting in long lines at airport security checkpoints across the US.

• In July 2024, I visited Belfast, Maine, a town rich in maritime history and local businesses.
• Belfast offers a stark contrast to busy urban life and is perfect for city escapes.
• I think it's an underrated travel destination, and I know I'll be back.

If you're planning a New England road trip, don't sleep on Belfast, Maine.

When I visited the town in 2024 for the Fourth of July, I expected nothing more than a wholesome, long weekend with my friends to take a break from the hustle and bustle of my life in New York City.

I got all that — and more.

It was my first time in Maine, and this particular small town, which I'd never heard of before my friends moved there, surprised me with its history, local culture, and dramatic coastal views.

After my trip, I've decided that Belfast is a hidden gem for tourists, and I'll go back again for my big-city escapes.

Belfast is about 100 miles up the coast from Portland.

To reach the small town on Penobscot Bay, we flew from New York to Portland, and our friends picked us up from the airport for a two-hour drive up the coast.

The town is rooted in maritime history.

Belfast was incorporated as a town in the 1700s, but it started to prosper in the 19th century as a hub for maritime workers, the city's website says. For about 100 years, Belfast residents built wooden sailboats, operated steamships, and transported goods, from ice and apples to hay and fertilizer.

Then, in the 1980s, creatives flocked to the town, transforming it into an artists' oasis with galleries and warehouse studios.

Belfast maintains its 19th-century seaside feel.

The waterfront town has about 7,000 residents.

The architecture in Belfast combines traditional New England-style homes with old-world styles from the Italian and Greek Revival eras, the Boston Globe reported. This gave the town a European twist on the classic New England aesthetic.

My friends said Belfast gets tourists in the summer, but it didn't feel crowded. We never waited too long for a table at a restaurant, and I didn't see many large groups.

The town is filled with historic inns.

I saw more historic inns than traditional hotels, which could be because tourists visit for unique accommodations.

The inns looked like gigantic mansions, and seeing them up close made me wish I'd booked just one night in a place like the Jeweled Turret Inn. The bed and breakfast, decorated with antiques, is a 19th-century Victorian landmark on the National Register of Historic Places.

There's also the Alden House Inn, a Greek Revival building dating back to 1840. I spotted its porch filled with guests on a weekend afternoon and longed to hang out there.

I stayed with friends. Their neighborhood was surprisingly walkable for a small town.

Belfast is pedestrian-friendly, scoring 71 out of 100 on Walk Score.

From my friends' apartment, we reached hiking trails, the waterfront, and the downtown area — all on foot.

My friends also live steps away from a farmers market and the Belfast Armistice Bridge, which pedestrians use to cross the Passagassawakeag River.

We went hiking without having to hop in a car.

My friends live less than 5 minutes from the Rail Trail that runs along the Passagassawakeag River.

I spent one day working remotely from Belfast, and we took a quick hike during my lunch break.

I was impressed by the hillside views and the landmasses in the distance, covered in rich green trees. It was an ideal place to refresh in the middle of a shift.

We also walked to the town's many small businesses and shopped for locally sourced food.

My friend told me one of the coolest things about Belfast is that there are so many local shops. There's no Walmart, Target, or Costco in town. The only brand-name stores I saw were Walgreens, CVS, and Dollar General.

The Press Herald reported that Maine towns are known for their small businesses. Belfast, in particular, has a plethora of locally owned retailers, from a general store and a DVD rental store to shops selling vintage dollhouses and handmade clothing and furniture.

We went to a farmers market selling local produce and foods during my trip, and my friends cooked up a feast.

We had a watermelon and feta salad, roasted duck, lobster mac and cheese, and potato salad with duck fat and herb-infused dressing: dill, parsley, and garlic scapes.

The ingredients tasted so fresh, as did the local pastries and bagels we got for breakfast.

We drove to some places, like Acadia National Park.

Acadia National Park is just a 90-minute drive from Belfast. We took a day trip there on a Saturday, and I was surprised to find it wasn't as crowded as most national parks I've visited on weekends.

The coastal park, surrounded by islands, looked majestic in the hazy weather. We hiked through forests to the rocky coastline, where we went tide-pooling and found a massive cave. It was even more picturesque than the trails in Belfast, and it helped me see how the state of Maine inspired my favorite American writer, Stephen King.

Belfast and the surrounding areas seemed extremely dog-friendly.

My friends in Maine have a super sweet, active dog named Zeus. He accompanied us on nearly every adventure during our trip, from restaurants to the Rail Trail to Acadia, one of the most dog-friendly national parks in the US, according to the NPS.

Having Zeus with us made the trip so much goofier and more fun. It wouldn't have been the same without him.

I could have stayed so much longer, and I'll definitely be back.

Aside from being a unique town with so much to offer, Belfast would be an ideal destination for tourists looking to travel sustainably. Eco-travel experts have said that supporting local businesses and getting around without a car are responsible practices for the health of our planet.

During my next trip to Belfast, I'll spend more time browsing local shops, book a stay at a historic inn, and take more day trips to places like Portland. Plus, I'd love to see Acadia on a day with clear skies.

• TSA agents are working without pay amid the partial government shutdown.
• Elon Musk on Saturday said on social media that he'd like to cover the workers' salaries.
• The White House said that it poses "legal challenges" due to Musk's involvement with federal contracts.

The White House turned down Elon Musk's offer to cover TSA agents' salaries as they continue to work without pay amid the partial government shutdown.

"We greatly appreciate Elon's generous offer," Abigail Jackson, a White House spokesperson, told Business Insider. "This would pose great legal challenges due to his involvement with federal government contracts. The fastest way to ensure TSA employees — and all DHS employees — get paid is for Democrats to fund the Department of Homeland Security."

CBS News first reported the White House's rejection. Musk did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

The billionaire CEO on Saturday wrote in a social media post that he'd like to cover the salaries of TSA workers "during this funding impasse that is negatively affecting the lives of so many Americans at airports throughout the country."

As of Wednesday, TSA workers missed at least one paycheck as Congress remains at an impasse over funding for the Department of Homeland Security.

The funding lapse has led to staffing shortages and hourslong lines at airports across the country.

As a countermeasure, the Trump administration deployed Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents to address airport disruptions.

Trump is sending ICE agents to fill a TSA officer shortage during the government shutdown, but a major federal union warns this could create safety risks.

• The acting head of the TSA said more than 480 officers working without pay have quit during the shutdown.
• She said they can't be replaced fast enough to adequately staff airports for the World Cup in June.
• It could be another saga of long security lines due to understaffed TSA during a peak travel period.

Even if the partial government shutdown ends soon, the fallout at the Transportation Security Administration could spill into the summer's marquee event.

In a House testimony on Wednesday, acting TSA administrator Ha Nguyen McNeill said that so many officers have quit since their pay stopped in mid-February that the agency can't get replacements fast enough to adequately staff airports ahead of the World Cup in June.

She said TSA officers spend four to six months in training before working checkpoints, but the games — which will take place across 16 cities in the US, Canada, and Mexico — start in just 80 days.

"This is a dire situation," she said, adding that more than 480 officers have quit so far. "We are facing a potential perfect storm of severe staffing shortages and an influx of millions of passengers at our airports."

TSA agents haven't been paid for nearly six weeks, yet are deemed "essential" and expected to work during the shutdown, with back pay promised afterward. Their annual pay starts at around $40,000 and averages $60,000 to $75,000 a year with experience.

Still, many live paycheck to paycheck and can't afford to work unpaid for months at a time — quitting and finding another job or doing gig work is often their best option.

Mass TSA agent quits and callouts amid the shutdown, compounded by peak spring break travel, have already created hourslong security lines and stranded travelers. It's a preview of the chaos that could repeat when an estimated 6 million fans descend on potentially understaffed airports for the World Cup.

"If we see any spikes [in attrition], we're going to have to pivot and assess how we are going to staff the FIFA locations adequately," McNeill said.

Passengers traveling to the scheduled World Cup games in San Francisco and Kansas City, however, are likely safe from staffing chaos.

Both city airports use private security officers employed by contract companies instead of TSA, meaning their agents are being paid despite the shutdown.

It's not just the TSA sounding the alarm

Former Republican Sen. from Oklahoma, Markwayne Mullin — who was confirmed as the new head of the Department of Homeland Security on Monday after Kristi Noem's ousting in early March — said in a Senate hearing last week that the US is "behind" on World Cup preparations and the shutdown is making it worse.

"It'll take four months once funding comes in to start replacing those that we've lost for training before we can get them out in the field; we don't have four months with FIFA," he said. "How do we expect these people to stay on the job and work? We're losing institutional knowledge, we're losing people we've already trained."

The mass quits are exacerbating a problem that was already flagged last year.

A February 2025 report from the US Travel Association — long before the shutdown's impact could be factored in — warned that the TSA may not be efficient enough to handle surging travel volumes during the World Cup.

On its busiest days, the agency screened about 3 million passengers. During the games, the organization said that level of traffic would be the norm.

Lawmakers are still negotiating a funding deal to reopen DHS and end the partial shutdown.

• During a two-week backpacking trip in Europe, I booked an Airbnb in a small town in Switzerland.
• Roggwil is a village filled with grassy fields, quiet neighborhoods, and mountain landscapes.
• The town turned out to be a hidden gem and my favorite destination on the trip.

The last night of my two-week trip to Europe was the best one. But it didn't start that way.

Back in October 2022, I was staying in an Airbnb in Roggwil, a 1,910-acre village in the rolling hills of Switzerland that's about an hour west of Zurich by train. I chose this Airbnb rather than booking a hotel in the city to save some money.

I thought Roggwil was a quiet, modest village with friendly families and a stunning mountain backdrop. When I crossed paths with people, I noticed they smiled — something I'm not used to seeing too much, living in New York City — and little kids waved at me at the train station.

And though there isn't as much to do as there is in a city, the village has some restaurants, a library, a swimming pool, and a go-kart race track, according to its website. I didn't get time to visit these, but I still enjoyed staying in the area and thought it was a good base outside Zurich.

The area also appealed to me as a place that offered unique accommodation. Not only was my Airbnb cheaper than options in Zurich, but it was also much more interesting.

For $200 a night, I slept in a wine barrel converted into a tiny home on a garden property, steps from the train station. From the garden, I had a sparkling view of the night sky. I doubt that I would have found a similar stay in Zurich.

On my final night, I thought I'd enjoy a view of the night sky while cooking dinner on the fire pit provided by my Airbnb.

I planned to stop by the town's grocery store on the way home from Zurich and grill some sausages, or "wurst."

On my way back to Roggwil, my plan fell apart. I was three stops from the village when I searched Google and found that the store I was heading to had closed.

With no alternate plan, I ran off the train to find somewhere else to buy dinner. After scanning the internet, I found only one open store — a gas station that was a 25-minute walk away.

"Whatever they have, I'll be grateful for it," I thought.

The route led through some woods, and as the sun began to set, the path opened onto a wide-open field lined with houses beneath the mountains. I stopped in my tracks. The scene was so picturesque, and finding it by accident made me feel like I was in a fairy tale.

This was the most striking sight of my two-week adventure through four countries. I couldn't help thinking that if I hadn't booked that specific Airbnb, I never would have seen it.

About a mile later, I was thrilled to find that the gas station had a small grocery store inside selling sausages, hard rolls, and pickles — everything I needed for a fireside dinner.

As I cooked, ate, and looked up at the stars that I wouldn't have seen from the city, I reflected on my trip and decided that booking a stay in Roggwil was the best decision I'd made.

• There are a few mistakes I wish I'd avoided before and during my family's trip to South Korea.
• I wish I had planned more hikes, purchased a transit card sooner, and spent more time outside Seoul.
• Looking back, I wish I'd taken more time to learn about local history and music.

When I was planning my family's summer trip to Japan, a stop in South Korea wasn't originally part of the itinerary.

However, when I found a great deal on premium-economy tickets to Tokyo with a layover in Seoul, I decided to extend our stay in South Korea's capital and spend five days exploring the city.

My children and I ended up loving South Korea, but our trip probably would have been better if I'd avoided these five mistakes.

We should've sought out more hikes and planned experiences within nature.

Seoul is an energetic, bustling city. Before the trip, I had assumed we'd spend most of our time visiting urban attractions and learning more about the flashy local Gangnam Style.

However, the mountains and natural beauty in Seoul made a bigger impression on me than anything else in the city.

By sheer luck, I'd booked a stay at a hotel right by Namsan Park, a massive forest in the mountains inside city limits. My family took two long, unplanned hikes in the park — and they turned out to be some of the best parts of the trip.

Although I'm glad we stumbled upon this urban oasis, I wish I had been more intentional about planning to explore more natural attractions in and around Seoul during our visit.

Our itinerary didn't include enough trips and experiences outside Seoul.

During the trip, my family explored Seoul's ancient palaces and steeped ourselves in K-pop culture. We walked laps around Seoul's trendy Myeong-dong neighborhood, eating Korean street food, hunting for K-beauty finds.

We left Seoul twice for day trips to the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) between North and South Korea and to visit K-drama filming locations.

Since South Korea wasn't our final destination, I thought five days would be enough to get a feel for the country.

It certainly felt like enough time to explore Seoul, and I loved my time in South Korea — but I left wishing I had more time to explore the country beyond its capital.

For example, I would've loved to visit the volcanic Jeju Island or the beaches and mountains in Busan.

Learning a bit more about local history and culture would've enriched the trip.

When I travel, I usually make it a point to learn more about the place I'm visiting since doing so always enriches my experiences.

However, once I landed in Seoul, I realized how little I really knew.

For example, I wish I'd taken more time to learn about the Japanese occupation of Korea and the Korean War. There are echoes of these events everywhere, and families in Korea remain divided between the North and South.

I also wish I'd become more familiar with popular local bands and listened to more K-pop before I landed. This music is a vital part of Korean culture, and ads with K-pop bands and signs wishing a K-pop star a happy birthday were all over Seoul during my visit.

It would've been cool to understand and appreciate these references … and maybe even sing along to some local hits.

It took us a little too long to embrace local convenience-store culture.

Convenience stores are ubiquitous in Seoul, and the ones we encountered were nothing like the ones back home, which often feel like a last resort for a grab-and-go bite.

Here, convenience stores are staples for a reason. I was impressed by the wide variety of affordable meals, snacks, and beverages on offer in these stores — and by the fact that many of them had seating areas.

By the end of my time in South Korea, I had grown accustomed to eating quick, low-cost, delicious (and sometimes even healthy) meals at a table inside a convenience store with my kids.

Doing something like this is nearly unheard of in the United States, and I wish I had embraced this quintessentially Korean habit much earlier. That way, we could've saved some money on food and efficiently tried even more local favorites.

Getting a transit card at the airport would've saved me money and headaches.

For most visitors, Seoul's extensive public-transportation system is the best way to get around the city. However, using it came with some unexpected challenges.

On my first full day in Seoul, I wanted to take the bus. However, I found that I had no way to pay since physical transit cards aren't sold at bus stops and buses don't accept cash or credit cards.

I got where I wanted to go by taking an Uber instead. Paying a few extra bucks wasn't the end of the world, but I love taking public transportation when I travel, and wish I'd been better prepared.

Even though I was exhausted when I landed in Seoul, I should've taken a few minutes to buy a transit card before leaving the airport to make using public transportation easier.

After I picked one up partway through my trip, getting around the city was easy and affordable. (The card I purchased is "Squid Game"-themed, which also makes it a cool souvenir.)

• On my first trip to Japan, I visited Tokyo, Kyoto, and Shima Onsen.
• I made some mistakes while planning my trip, like stressing about dinner reservations.
• I also wish I had spent far more time in Kyoto, which I fell in love with.

Japan has always been at the top of my bucket list.

So, my fiancé and I took a last-minute trip at the end of March 2025, hoping to catch the start of cherry blossom season as we explored Tokyo, Kyoto, and the hot-spring town of Shima Onsen.

The trip was full of incredible food, the kindest people, and sights I'll never forget. It was nearly perfect, but I made a few mistakes while planning.

Stressing about dinner reservations

As a food writer, I love researching restaurants when planning a trip. I dive into reviews, food blogs, and the occasional TikTok.

It wasn't long before the algorithm caught on, suddenly inundating my FYP with videos full of suggestions. As I attempted to navigate all the different reservation systems — Tabelog! TableCheck! Omakase! — I found myself getting more and more stressed. In the end, I only made a single reservation for an omakase experience — the very good Sushi Yuu.

And you know what? Almost every meal we ate was still fantastic.

With so much great food around every corner of Tokyo and Kyoto, it was easy to embrace spontaneous travel. When we got hungry, my fiancé and I would just pull up Google Maps and see what looked promising around us, often finding spots beloved by locals rather than packed because of a popular TikTok.

This led to our favorite meals of the trip, including a delicious lunch set at Isshin Daikanyama and an incredible shabu shabu experience at Wagyu Sukiyaki Kyoto Chikarayama Pontocho — the best dinner of our 10-day trip.

Packing revealing outfits

I flew to Tokyo after a weeklong trip in Sydney for a friend's wedding, so I had packed plenty of summer dresses for Australia's hot weather and daily beach visits.

I knew I wouldn't wear them often in Japan, where winter was only coming to an end. But when a tour guide told me that locals tend to dress more conservatively and rarely wear outfits that expose their shoulders or décolletage, I felt even more out of place in my wardrobe.

I left my strapless tops in my luggage and covered up spaghetti-strap dresses with a jacket throughout the trip. If I had done more research beforehand, I would've brought more options with sleeves to ensure I was considerate of the culture and its customs.

Only spending two full days in Kyoto

As we walked through Kyoto's Gion district at sunset, I knew immediately that I would fall in love with the city.

All my favorite meals from our Japan trip were in Kyoto. I still dream about the perfectly crispy pork and shrimp tonkatsu I had at Katsukura Tonkatsu Sanjo and the tender wagyu cooked in sugar and soy sauce at that shabu shabu dinner.

There were also so many stunning sights I'll never forget, like walking under thousands of orange torii gates at Fushimi Inari (go at 7 a.m. to beat the crowds) and relaxing in the gardens at Nijō Castle.

We had a packed itinerary, but I would've loved an extra day to appreciate Kyoto like a local. The city seemed to hum with a laid-back vibe. I wanted to walk around and check out some of the city's many listening bars. We visited one where the owner was also the bartender and DJ, swapping out vinyls as he set the mood and asked everyone about their lives while feeding us chips.

Buying a physical PASMO card instead of adding it to Apple Wallet

We frequently rode on Tokyo and Kyoto's subway systems while exploring different neighborhoods during our trip, so we used PASMO cards to pay for our fares. While my fiancé had added PASMO to his Apple Wallet prior to arriving in Tokyo, I bought a physical card before our first subway trip.

Taking out the card to pay for each trip wasn't a big deal, but I ran out of money en route to the Arashiyama Bamboo Forest in Kyoto. Instead of being able to add money to my PASMO via Apple Wallet, I had to join a long line of people who were trying to top up their cards at the only machine in the station and almost missed our train.

Booking a ryokan too far from one of our main hubs

I knew I wanted to spend at least one night of our trip in a ryokan, a traditional Japanese-style inn that typically features rooms with tatami floor mats, futon beds, and hot-spring baths known as onsens.

We had a great experience at Kashiwaya Ryokan, which I booked due to a friend's recommendation. But in my excitement (and jet lag after flying to Australia), I didn't do enough research on how we'd get to Shima Onsen from Kyoto. Since there were no direct trains between the two cities, we had to take the two-hour bullet train back to Tokyo before getting on a four-hour bus. Major oops!

I still loved experiencing such a beautiful ryokan and will cherish my memories of relaxing in the private outdoor onsens surrounded by mountains. But if you plan to spend less than two weeks in Japan, I'd recommend selecting a ryokan near or between the main cities you want to explore.

• I've been on many Disney cruises and have upgraded to its concierge class four times.
• It's pricey, but it comes with complimentary bites and drinks, a spacious room, and other benefits.
• To me, the most valuable perk is priority access for booking cabanas on Disney's private islands.

I've been on about 15 Disney cruises. Of those sailings, I've booked concierge four times.

It's the most luxurious tier available and is substantially more expensive than other staterooms. Prices vary, but in general, I've found concierge staterooms are about double the price of a deluxe verandah (balcony) stateroom.

For example, on a recent five-night sailing aboard the Disney Dream, we spent $10,000 on a one-bedroom concierge stateroom for our family of four. A deluxe verandah room would've been about $5,000.

With that in mind, I'm often asked if concierge is worth the splurge. Personally, there's just one benefit that makes it feel worth it for my family.

Concierge comes with many perks, but they don't necessarily make up for the high price tag

In addition to priority boarding and larger, upgraded rooms, concierge passengers have access to exclusive lounge areas and a private sun deck on their ship.

They can order complimentary alcohol and specialty drinks at the embarkation-day lunch and during the nightly happy hour in said lounge.

Plus, they receive free popcorn and bottled sodas for the on-board theater shows, complimentary mini-bar items in their room, and a more robust, high-end selection of bathroom amenities.

The rooms are really nice, but we typically don't spend much time in them since there's so much to do on and off the ship. And, if you add up every drink and bucket of popcorn, the difference between a verandah and a concierge stateroom still doesn't come close to evening out.

However, what really makes concierge special is the white-glove attentive service and front-of-the-line access for everything.

That's where my favorite perk comes in: priority access to the elusive beach cabanas on Disney's private islands.

For me, priority cabana access is the only reason to book concierge

Many Disney cruises stop at at least one of its private island destinations in the Bahamas: Castaway Cay and Lookout Cay at Lighthouse Point.

Each location has around two dozen cabanas available for rent, and they're really exclusive since Disney ships have thousands of passengers.

This scarcity is why concierge status can make all the difference. They get first crack at booking all activities and experiences, including cabanas.

In my experience, the cabanas go fast and can fill up before the booking window even opens to all guests, including those at the highest Disney Cruise Line loyalty tier who are in line after concierge.

I've found it's rare for a non-concierge guest to get a cabana unless they're on the waitlist and get lucky with a last-minute cancellation.

On top of that, concierge guests don't have to compete in the "log in at midnight when your booking window opens" game to get the amenities they want.

Instead, they have a dedicated email they can use to communicate their wishes, and a concierge handles it for them.

On our first concierge sailing, we requested a cabana and it was reserved for us well before our departure. On the second, we got wait-listed, then were notified that we'd gotten a cabana while aboard the ship.

To be clear, these cabanas are not free or discounted for concierge passengers. We've paid between $700 to $900 a day for ones that fit up to six guests.

They're more than just a place for privacy and shade, though: The elevated spaces have dedicated hosts, lots of seating, and complimentary non-alcoholic drinks and snacks.

On Castaway Cay, the cabanas include access to snorkel gear, beach floats, and one-hour bike rentals, which would normally all cost extra.

No matter what you spend, good weather is never gaurunteed. On one trip, I was disappointed when one of our cabana beach days was cut short by a storm — mostly because I didn't feel we got our money's worth.

However, our host was quick to bring rain ponchos, and our kids thought our private golf-cart ride back to the ship was the best part of the day.

Concierge may not be a great value for everyone, but for travelers like me, it's a worthy splurge

Paying double for a cruise to be able to spend an extra almost-thousand dollars on a beach day is certainly not worth it for everyone.

I could see concierge being a great splurge for fellow Disney cruisers chasing privacy and front-of-the-line access. After all, if you're not in concierge, it's almost impossible to secure a cabana.

Ultimately, the value of this upgrade depends on which perks you plan to use and how important they are to your group. (And whether or not your ship is stopping at one of Disney's private islands.)

Sailing concierge really does feel luxurious and occasionally upgrading so we can score a precious cabana has been worth it.

However, my family's also been perfectly happy in the interior staterooms on a Disney cruise.

• San José airport starts testing an AI robot called José to assist travelers.
• The pilot test launched on Tuesday amid travel chaos at many US airports.
• Some TSA workers have stopped coming into work due to a government shutdown.

One of Silicon Valley's main airports just made its newest hire, a robot named "José."

San José Mineta International Airport is turning to artificial intelligence to ease the strain of modern air travel, debuting "José," a humanoid robot, as some US airports grapple with staffing shortages and widespread delays.

Developed by Silicon Valley startup IntBot, José is designed to greet passengers, answer questions, and provide real-time updates while autonomously navigating busy terminals.

The robot will be stationed in SJC's Terminal B as part of a four-month pilot, "singlehandedly running his own gate," according to an email previewing the test that referred to José as the airport's "newest hire."

Airport officials said the launch highlights San José's role as a testing ground for emerging technologies to improve customer service.

"By piloting IntBot, we're exploring how artificial intelligence can enhance the passenger journey while reinforcing SJC's role as the gateway to Silicon Valley," said SJC Director of Aviation Mookie Patel.

The timing is notable. Airports across the US have been hit by long security lines and travel chaos, driven in part by many Transportation Security Administration workers not reporting to work during a partial government shutdown. With TSA agents going unpaid at the height of the spring break season, some airports have struggled to maintain normal operations.

José the robot represents a broader push to automate parts of the airport experience, from passenger assistance to information delivery.

SJC officials said the pilot will help evaluate how multimodal AI, combining vision, audio, and language, performs in real-world environments.

The future of air travel may include a robotic helping hand — and it can't come fast enough for weary vacationers stuck in long lines.

Sign up for BI's Tech Memo newsletter here. Reach out to me via email at abarr@businessinsider.com.

In the early 1900s, while diners dominated the American northeast, the South had its own institutions: cafeterias. At their peak, there were thousands nationwide, with big chains like Morrison's and Luby's operating locations all over the South. They took off because they served affordable comfort food quickly. And they became community centers of sorts. On Sundays, families would slide their trays down the lines after church. There were entire sections of the phone book dedicated to them. But in the '90s, cafeteria lines started to dry up, and many chains shuttered. We went to Georgia to learn how one of the state's oldest and one of its newest cafeterias are fighting to keep their hot bars steaming and communities fed.

• My parents are both Greek, and they took me back to Greece every summer to learn about my roots.
• Thessaloniki is a mainland city with incredible food, beautiful history, and plenty of nightlife.
• Islands such as Corfu and Rhodes will give you amazing beaches with fewer tourists.

As a kid, I spent nearly every summer with my family in Greece.

My parents immigrated to California from Greece in the 1980s, but they made sure I grew up learning about our family's roots. We spent almost every summer of my childhood in Greece, where beach days were filled with that perfect turquoise Aegean Sea and big fresh bowls of horiatiki.

Friends now frequently ask me for advice on their Greece trips, but they only seem to visit Mykonos, Santorini, and Athens. My answer to them is always the same: You can experience so much of Greece's incredible food, culture, and beaches without setting foot in its packed tourist destinations.

So, with the help of my lovely parents, I've brought you a list of eight incredible spots in Greece to help you plan your next trip.

Thessaloniki is a beautiful city packed with great food and incredible history.

Most of my summers in Greece were spent in Thessaloniki, where both of my parents grew up. It's the second-biggest city in the country after Athens and dates back to 316 BC.

Ancient ruins and majestic Byzantine churches can be seen in the city's downtown area. But the most important landmark is the White Tower, which was built in the 15th century after Thessaloniki fell to the Ottomans. The White Tower now has an exhibition on the city's history, and you can go up to the top for spectacular views from its balcony.

Thessaloniki is also packed with so many delicious tavernas and restaurants. My mom recommends visiting the Ladadika neighborhood at the city's center for dinner, or going to Aretsou for views of the water. Try the bougasta, a Greek dessert of custard wrapped in phyllo, or koulouri, Greek sesame bread rings that were my mom's childhood favorite.

"Walk in the Thessaloniki promenade to enjoy a sunset and, if the sky is clear, a perfect view of Mount Olympus," she added.

I'll let you in on a secret: The best beaches in Greece are actually in Halkidiki.

Sure, Santorini's got those gorgeous white buildings, and Mykonos has the wild nightlife. But if you're looking for an incredible beach vacation, you may be better off on the mainland.

Even as a kid, I remember being stunned by the beaches in Halkidiki. The sand is soft and white, the water is warm, and the colors of the sea are the brightest blues you'll ever see. One summer, my mom and uncle took me to a different beach every day, and she still loves to tell the story of how I gave all the Halkidiki beaches an "A++" because I loved them so much.

Halkidiki is near Thessaloniki, so it's also a great place to visit if you want to combine a city escape with a beach destination. Plus, with so many local tavernas by the sea, you're sure to have a great meal of octopus, ouzo on the rocks, and some calamari.

"If all you want for your vacation is to lie on a beach and listen to the waves, Halkidiki is your destination," my mom said.

A trip to Meteora will give you an unforgettable hike.

Meteora is another childhood trip I'll always remember. Located in central Greece, the Meteora monasteries — now a UNESCO World Heritage Site — are perched on huge cliffs that will take your breath away.

Orthodox Christian hermit monks first began coming to the cliffs of Meteora around the 9th century, looking for peace and isolation. In the 14th century, the first Meteora monastery was built, spearheading the beginning of the site's monastic community, according to Visit Meteora. Six of the 24 monasteries remain active today, with more than 60 nuns and monks.

"It's absolutely amazing to realize that monks built these monasteries and lived there for centuries," my mom said. "The unique rock formations and nice sunsets offer many photo opportunities. It's a really special place that makes me feel close to heaven."

Delphi is a dream destination for history lovers.

Ancient Greeks believed that Delphi was the "navel of the world." The myth goes that Zeus released one eagle from the east and one from the west, and the birds met in the middle at Delphi, where the famous oracle was built.

In addition to being an incredible archaeological site, Delphi also has a stunning natural backdrop. My mother said she still remembers the sweeping views of the valleys and the lovely olive trees.

"I loved visiting Delphi because of its history, but also because of the beautiful natural surroundings," she added.

And how could you not be wowed by the birthplace of the Olympics?

For as long as I can remember, the Olympics have been a huge point of pride in our household. My parents always loved reminding me why Greece walks first in the Parade of Nations, and why the Greek flag is always flown during the closing ceremony.

So, as a kid, it was incredibly special to visit Olympia, where the Olympics first began. The games were held in Olympia every four years from 776 BC to 393 AD, and ruins from the sporting events still stand there today.

"Olympia has always had an emotional impact on me," my mom said. "To be able to walk in the same field where the Olympics started moved me very much when I visited for the first time."

"I think this would be a special place for someone who loves sports or history," she added.

Corfu is one of my family's favorite islands in Greece.

I have this distinct memory of seeing candy-colored houses along the water in Corfu. The city is a great option if you want to visit a beautiful Greek island without fighting hundreds of other tourists for a picture of the sunset.

Once under Venetian rule, the Italian influence is still apparent in much of Corfu's architecture and delicious food. Along with beaches, the island is known for its lush flora and fauna. My parents took my sister and me to Corfu when we were kids and said it was a great spot for family vacations.

My dad also recommends adding a trip to Ioannina on the way to Corfu to visit the Perama Cave.

Rhodes is a stunning Greek island that feels straight out of the Middle Ages.

Rhodes was ruled by the Knights of St. John from the 14th to the 16th century, and it still feels steeped in medieval history. I remember being wowed as a kid while walking past the castles, under the stone arches, and through the tiny cobblestone alleys in the island's old town.

Rhodes also has plenty of beautiful beaches, as well as Butterfly Valley — my mom's favorite part of the island.

Paros has beautiful whitewashed buildings and is only a short ferry ride from Athens.

The Cycladic island has become popular in recent years thanks to TikToks of tourists waving their napkins at the Barbarossa restaurant, but Paros is significantly larger in size than Santorini or Mykonos. That means you can easily escape summer crowds whenever you please, while still joining the bustling nightlife if that's your scene.

I recommend renting an ATV or car after your boat docks on the island. One of my favorite memories in Paros was riding through the beautiful hilltops dotted with tiny white churches and stumbling upon secluded beaches.

You could spend days exploring the small villages of Lefkes and Piso Livadi, or relax by the calm waters of Santa Maria beach. It's also easy to take a day trip to Antiparos, just 7 minutes away by ferry.

Just make sure not to leave without dinner or drinks at Siparos, one of my favorite places on the island to watch the sunset.

• TSA agents at US airports are working without pay amid a partial government shutdown.
• Their salaries start around $40,000 annually and increase with time and experience.
• Top-level TSA leaders and workers living in expensive cities can earn six figures.

For five weeks, the people screening passengers and bags at US airports have been working without pay as the government shutdown — the second in four months — stretches on.

It's hitting a workforce that often lives paycheck to paycheck on middle-class salaries and is turning to food banks and community donations to get by.

More than 300 Transportation Security Administration officers (TSOs) have left the agency since mid-February, compounding staffing shortages that have created hourslong lines at airports like Orlando, Houston Hobby, and Philadelphia.

"We know these are not highly paid jobs, and we know that from the last government shutdown that it's difficult for TSA agents to work on a sustained basis without getting any income," Henry Harteveldt, a travel analyst and the president of Atmosphere Research Group, told Business Insider. "The need to find supplementary jobs that will provide some type of income is completely understandable."

These screening officers receive modest pay but collectively have ensured that the US air travel system remains one of the world's safest and busiest in the quarter century since the 9/11 plane hijackings.

Most of the roughly 50,000 agents who interact with passengers daily start around $40,000 annually. They average "anywhere from $60,000 to $75,000" as they gain experience, a Department of Homeland Security spokesperson told Business Insider.

TSOs living in more expensive cities, including Chicago, Houston, and San Francisco, receive a locality-based pay boost that can put them into at least the high five figures before any bonus opportunities.

Beyond frontline officers, senior officials — like regional directors who oversee multiple airports and managers at TSA headquarters who typically don't screen bags — can make six figures.

However, all of that pay is now on hold until Congress reaches a deal to fund DHS, whose funding lapsed on February 14 amid an impasse over the Trump Administration's immigration crackdown. TSOs received their first $0 paycheck in mid-March.

How TSO pay works

According to TSA Careers — a non-government website that the agency directed Business Insider to for information — TSO pay is organized into pay bands D through L, roughly corresponding to the federal government's GS-5 to GS-15 scale for civil servants.

Each band is divided into 10 "steps" that reflect time in service and incremental pay increases, with employees able to reach Step 10 within their given grade in about 3 years. TSOs are promoted to higher pay bands based on seniority and performance and can earn more by working overtime, nights, and Sundays.

At the bottom, brand-new TSOs, classified as Band D (roughly GS-5 equivalent) at Step 1, earn about $35,000 a year before locality or bonus pay, per the table. Most US cities receive an additional 16.8% locality adjustment in 2026, putting the lowest earners at an annual salary of around $40,000.

That works out to roughly $19 per hour for a standard 40-hour workweek — two and a half times the federal minimum wage of $7.25 and greater than any state minimum wage.

According to the global statistics website World Population Review, $40,000 still falls below the cost of living for a single adult with no children in most states; median wages for full-time workers in the US are about $63,000 a year, per Bureau of Labor Statistics data.

Climbing the pay ladder — and living in more expensive cities — leads to higher wages for security screeners. At the top of the D band, for example, a Step 10 TSO in an airport with standard locality pay would earn about $52,300 annually, or about $25 per hour.

The table below shows the full range of what TSOs make across pay bands and steps before locality adjustments.

TSOs in about 50 higher-cost-of-living cities receive additional locality pay, with the largest being in San Francisco, where agents earn 46.3% on top of their base salary.

That would put a Band D Step 1 TSO new hire at about $50,500 a year in the Bay Area, after locality pay but before any extra income. Their Band D base salary caps out at about $65,600; Band E caps out at about $81,000.

A handful of other locations — including Seattle, Boston, Houston, Chicago, New York City, Los Angeles, San Diego, Hartford, Connecticut, Washington, DC, and Alaska — receive locality boosts of at least 30%.

For example, TSOs at the top of the E band in DC, with a 33.9% locality, make about $74,000 annually. New York TSOs with a 38% locality in the same band earn between roughly $59,000 and $76,500.

TSOs earn more by climbing the leadership ladder

Experienced TSOs with years on the job and strong performance can advance into higher pay bands associated with management, analytical, and supervisory positions.

For example, moving into the F band — which includes roles like Lead TSO or Security Training Instructor — would place that agent in a salary range of roughly $61,000 to $79,000.

Program analysts, who work behind the scenes to optimize TSA efficiency through strategic planning and coordination, can fall into the G band. In a standard locality, they make between roughly $74,000 and $96,000. Cities like Houston or Hartford would push into the six figures.

The highest earners include top TSA leadership, like Federal Security Directors (FSDs), who oversee operations at their assigned airports and can earn about $162,600 in base pay at the top of the K and L bands.

Locality pay puts this even higher. A Step 1 FSD in San Francisco would make about $183,000 a year, rising to roughly $238,000 at Step 10, per the table. In Los Angeles, the base salary would range from about $170,000 to $222,000.

• Some Las Vegas casinos are donating food and care items to local TSA agents working without pay.
• An MGM Resorts International executive said its critical TSA staff work to keep tourists flowing.
• Las Vegas has already seen a decline in visitors and revenue amid economic uncertainty.

As a government shutdown snarls air travel and stretches security lines, Las Vegas's biggest industry is stepping in to show its support for unpaid TSA agents.

MGM Resorts International — the largest casino company on the Las Vegas Strip with a large portfolio of hotels, including the Bellagio, MGM Grand, and Excalibur — sent meals and care packages to its local TSA agents who have been working without pay for five weeks.

MGM Senior Vice President of Global Security and Aviation John Flynn said the company has so far delivered 1,400 lunches to Harry Reid International Airport, with more planned in the next week. There are more than 1,000 TSA employees at LAS.

Flynn said it's critical that TSA agents are supported so they continue to show up for work to keep Las Vegas' travel industry moving. If travelers worry about long security lines getting home, they may think twice about booking a trip in the first place — potentially leaving hotel rooms empty and casino floors quieter.

"We're a city built on hospitality; we depend on travel and tourism," Flynn said in a recorded message shared with Business Insider. "To be able to keep the lines low and to be able to keep that tourism engine thriving, it all happens here at the airport. Without [TSA agents], we wouldn't have a seamless experience for our guests."

It appears the donations are helping. I flew through Las Vegas on Monday around 8 p.m. and saw virtually no line in either the general or TSA PreCheck queue. I also cleared PreCheck in less than 2 minutes.

Luke Nimmo, a Las Vegas airport spokesperson, told Business Insider that donations from MGM and community members "make a difference," and that wait times have been normal since the shutdown began over a month ago.

This is in stark contrast to some cities across the US, where lines have snaked around buildings and into parking garages for up to 3 hours. Airlines have had to delay flights to accommodate the lines; some passengers waited so long that they missed their plane altogether.

The chaos has popped up at seemingly random airports; it's unclear why, though spring break travel has exacerbated the problems at some of them. Hot spots like Houston Hobby, New York-JFK, and New Orleans airports have seen the worst waits.

Nimmo said Las Vegas also saw short lines during last year's shutdown thanks to "generous donations." Among them was MGM, which sent 700 meals and personal items like soap and mouthwash to TSA agents in November 2025.

Las Vegas airport has opened a "food and essentials" pantry stocked with non-perishable snacks, ingredients, toiletries, and baby and paper products for TSA and customs agents affected by the shutdown.

But Nimmo said inventory is low and has asked the community for more donations. Stocking non-food products helps agents save money on other basic necessities.

TSA agents received their first $0 paycheck over the weekend and won't be paid until Congress reaches a deal to fund the Department of Homeland Security. DHS funding lapsed on February 14 amid a political fight over the Trump administration's immigration tactics.

It's unclear if any other casino companies have participated in TSA donations. The Wynn Las Vegas declined to comment; Caesars Entertainment did not immediately respond.

The timing of the shutdown and its subsequent chaos is especially sensitive for a tourism-driven city already navigating economic uncertainty and shifting travel demand.

Gaming revenue is up, but restaurants, retailers, and bars are suffering from declining visitor numbers. The Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority says the area saw a 7.5% decline in tourists — roughly 3 million people — in 2025, the city's largest drop outside the pandemic.

Analysts attribute the decline in part to budget-conscious travelers feeling the pinch amid inflation and the city's growing nickel-and-dime fees and surcharges. The city is also hosting fewer Canadians who have canceled their travel plans due to political tensions with the US.

Several airports are asking for TSA donations

Airports across the US have called on the community to help TSA agents working without pay. Denver International Airport and Seattle-Tacoma International Airport have set up donation boxes for gift cards and household essentials.

Many smaller airports like John Glenn Columbus International Airport in Columbus, Ohio, Eastern Iowa Airport in Cedar Rapids, and North Central West Virginia Airport near Clarksburg have similarly posted on social media asking for donations.

Denver and Columbus airports suggested gift cards for gas and grocery stores, but asked that they be no more than $20 and specified that they cannot accept Visa gift cards.

The gestures of goodwill are reminiscent of when airline pilots, flight attendants, and their respective unions sent pizza and other goodies to air traffic controllers working without pay during the 43-day-long shutdown in October and November last year.

This shutdown has not affected the pay of air traffic controllers, who work for the Federal Aviation Administration under the Department of Transportation, which is funded and open.

• Southwest Airlines will no longer serve Chicago O'Hare and Washington Dulles starting June 4.
• It will still fly from Chicago Midway, Baltimore/Washington International, and Reagan National.
• Midway and Baltimore are Southwest hubs, but it has a small presence at O'Hare and Dulles.

Southwest Airlines is retreating to its strongholds.

It announced late last week that it will no longer fly from Chicago O'Hare and Washington Dulles Airports starting June 4.

The move is part of its "ongoing efforts to refine its network," it added.

However, it said there won't be any "significant changes" to flight availability from the cities because it's still operating at other nearby airports: Chicago Midway (MDW), Baltimore/Washington International (BWI), and Washington Reagan National (DCA).

O'Hare and Dulles are both popular international airports, ranked third and 22nd in the US, respectively, by passenger numbers. That heightened competition drives up operating costs and gate fees, which isn't ideal for a budget carrier like Southwest.

Meanwhile, Midway is a major hub for Southwest. It carries over 90% of passengers there, according to the Bureau of Transportation Statistics.

Data from the aviation analytics firm Cirium shows over 6,000 Southwest flights scheduled from there this month. That's more than 13 times as many as from O'Hare.

"We are confident we can serve Chicagoland from our long-standing base at Midway, where we will continue to offer service to more than 80 destinations, including the 15 markets we serve from O'Hare," the airline said.

It comes as United Airlines and American Airlines are fighting for dominance at O'Hare. The former is increasing its flight schedule and working to acquire two gates from Spirit Airlines' bankruptcy proceedings.

Southwest said that operating from O'Hare "continues to be challenging." It only started flights there in 2021.

In and around the nation's capital, the airline is similarly exiting an airport where it has a weaker presence.

Cirium data shows just 93 Southwest flights scheduled from Dulles this month: Twice daily to Denver, and once a day to Phoenix.

United Airlines is the main player there with a majority of the market share.

Meanwhile, Southwest operates nearly three-quarters of flights from Baltimore. It's the second-biggest airline at Reagan National, behind American on 27%, according to the Bureau of Transportation Statistics.

Southwest said it is "the largest carrier in the Washington area in terms of passengers carried."

It will offer up to 271 departures to 79 nonstop destinations from DCA and BWI, it added.

Frontline employees at O'Hare and Dulles will be able to bid for positions at other airports where Southwest operates, the airline said.

• I've lived in Florida for over 25 years and have explored some of the state's most peaceful islands.
• I love Cedar Key, a charming small town with lots of local businesses.
• North Captiva Island, which is only accessible by boat or plane, is also worth a visit.

When thinking about islands in Florida, places like Key West, Sanibel, or Fisher Island probably come to mind. However, after living in the Sunshine State for more than 25 years, I know there are so many more beautiful places to explore.

Beyond the famous names are lesser-known gems that offer natural beauty, charm, and a sense of escape. Whether you're craving a quiet beach day, a kayaking adventure, or a peaceful getaway without the crowds, these six islands deliver.

Santa Rosa Island feels like a secret paradise.

If you're looking for a beach that feels like a total escape, Santa Rosa Island might just be your new favorite spot.

Tucked along the Florida panhandle, this barrier island includes areas that are part of the Gulf Islands National Seashore, a federally protected stretch of coastline.

I could spend days basking in the soft, sugar-white sand, emerald-green water, and peaceful vibes.

There's plenty to do on St. George Island.

In my opinion, St. George Island is the definition of a true beach escape.

Located on the Florida Panhandle and connected to the mainland by a long bridge, it offers 22 miles of uncrowded beaches, clear water, and an easygoing vibe that's hard to beat.

The island is known for its family-friendly atmosphere, stargazing (thanks to minimal light pollution), and state park, which is perfect for beachcombing, hiking, or just soaking up the sun.

Cedar Key has a charming small-town island vibe.

Located on Florida's Gulf Coast, visiting Cedar Key feels like stepping back in time — in the best way possible.

It's a quaint little island town known for its charm, fresh seafood, and slower pace of life. I also love that most spots are small businesses run by locals.

Instead of modern architecture, you'll find weathered wooden docks and colorful cottages, giving it an old-Florida feel. It's the kind of place where you kayak through calm waters by day and eat local clams on a breezy porch by night.

Duck Key is the perfect place for a romantic getaway.

If you've driven the Overseas Highway through the Florida Keys, you might've zoomed right past Duck Key without even realizing it. But in my opinion, it's totally worth a stop.

About halfway between Key Largo and Key West, this little island is low-key, peaceful, and packed with old-school Keys charm.

I recommend visiting Hawks Cay Resort, which has everything from lagoon-style pools to a dolphin experience right on site. Go kayaking or paddleboarding right from the shore, take a snorkeling tour, or enjoy a cocktail with a view.

Whether you're planning a family vacation or a romantic getaway, the island caters to both, offering activities for everyone.

Gasparilla Island is a quiet seaside escape.

Located off Florida's Gulf Coast, Gasparilla Island is a gorgeous spot with historic seaside charm.

With powdery white-sand beaches, clear waters, and a tranquil vibe, the island is perfect for those looking to unwind and enjoy the outdoors.

At the heart of the island is the charming town of Boca Grande, filled with pastel-colored cottages, golf carts cruising the streets, and a laid-back atmosphere.

On the island, you'll also find the Port Boca Grande Lighthouse, which is, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful lighthouses in the state.

North Captiva Island is a true off-the-grid escape.

If you really want to unplug, North Captiva Island is the spot. It's only accessible by boat or small plane, and there are no cars on the island — just golf carts and barefoot beachgoers.

With very little commercial development here, you'll want to come prepared with snacks, water, and a good beach read. In return, you'll get miles of untouched beaches and a truly remote escape.

This story was originally published on August 28, 2025, and most recently updated on March 16, 2026.

• I took a group tour of Japan with my kids, and Hakone turned out to be my favorite stop.
• The beautiful town had amazing hot springs, and the Hakone Open-Air Museum was incredible.
• If I return to Japan, I'd go to Hakone again and I'd love to visit other small towns in the country.

Visiting Japan has been on my bucket list for a long time, and I finally booked a trip after relentless pleas from my children — and reading about how the US dollar is strong against the Japanese yen.

To simplify planning, I booked a family tour through Intrepid Travel. Unsurprisingly, the tour went to Tokyo and Kyoto, popular tourist destinations that draw many visitors (including my family) to Japan.

However, the tour also brought us to some places I may not have found on my own, including the quaint, quirky mountain town of Hakone.

Visiting the town, which is southwest of central Tokyo and about a 90-minute railway ride away, turned out to be my favorite part of the trip.

We loved the town's famous hot springs

Hakone is full of onsens, or natural hot springs, heated by geothermal activity happening beneath Japan. During my visit, I got to experience several types of onsens — and I still dream of sitting in their soothing waters.

First, I tried a bucolic onsen overlooking the mountains, which were lush and green when I visited during the summer. Lounging in a naturally fed hot spring from the top of a mountain allowed me to slow down, relax, and appreciate the beauty of Japan outside of its big cities.

I also tried a traditional onsen, which was segregated by gender and required visitors to disrobe completely. As an American, I'm not used to bathing naked with strangers, but I didn't want to miss this quintessential Japanese experience.

Although I didn't stay long, it was eye-opening to see how this tradition, so different than my own, quickly helped me feel more comfortable in my own skin. This is something I would not have experienced if I had not gone to Hakone.

Finally, my kids and I tried a series of themed onsens at Yunessun, a hot-spring theme park, which was one of the quirkier experiences I have had while traveling.

There, I hopped into an onsen shaped like a ramen bowl, complete with blow-up toppings. My kids joked that we were experiencing what it felt like to be cooked on a stovetop.

I also got to try unique baths, including one filled with coffee and another containing wine. My skin felt smooth and soft when I left.

Our trip featured some unique activities, including a visit to a mind-blowing sculpture garden

Although my children don't always share my affinity for looking at paintings and sculptures, they agreed to accompany me to the Hakone Open-Air Museum.

Beyond its gates, we found larger-than-life interactive sculptures unlike anything we've seen at traditional art museums.

As we walked through the museum's gardens, we hopped through rainbows, climbed to the top of a stained-glass tower, and walked underground to peek up at the sky from below.

My children even swung on colorfully knitted balls hanging from an elaborate net, seemingly suspended from the sky.

Near the exit of the gardens, I sat and soaked my feet in a hot-spring footbath while gazing out at the surrounding forest. I wish that every large attraction had something similar at the end.

Fortunately, there were many other unique and fun things for us to do in Hakone.

While there, I ate one of the town's famous black eggs, which had been transformed from their original white after boiling in a sulfur-rich hot spring. Legend has it that eating one of these adds seven years to your life — I devoured every morsel.

We also got a glimpse of Mt. Fuji from the Hakone Tozan Railway and rode on a pirate ship to get a fantastic view of Hakone's bright-red Torii Gate standing in a lake.

Hakone was a wonderful stop on our trip, and I'd happily return

During our time in Hakone, we stayed in a ryokan, a type of traditional Japanese inn, and were able to explore a lot of the relatively small town on foot.

Along the way, we wound through mountain roads dotted with small restaurants and shops, a welcome reprieve from the heat of the bigger cities we had visited earlier in our trip. We even took some time to hike along Hakone's lush forest paths.

Although it's easy to see the appeal of Japan's bigger cities like Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka, if I ever return to the country, I would spend more time in Hakone and seek out other small towns.

• I studied at universities in both the US and China, first in 2015 and again in 2025.
• Experiencing Chinese higher education at two different times showed me how different the system is.
• The differences in cost, campus culture, and career pathways made me rethink American universities.

I've done something quite rare: I'm an American who attended college in both the US and China.

I completed my undergraduate degree in political science at a state university in New York and studied abroad in Wuhan, China, during the summer of 2015. Ten years later, in 2025, I returned to Shijiazhuang, China, while completing my second graduate degree in global health, interning at a medical university.

Experiencing Chinese universities at two distinct points in my life, a decade apart, gave me a rare view of how the system operates and how it has evolved.

I didn't meet any Americans studying in China most recently

During my first trip, I was in a group of about 30 American college students. The second time, I was the only person from my cohort to go.

Since the pandemic, the number of US students in China has dropped, according to NPR. In fact, I didn't meet a single American in the three months I was in the country most recently.

Both times, I met lots of African students, though. They were heavily invested in and integrated into the Chinese learning and working systems.

I've noticed China sets the international students I met up for success

Many of the international students I talked to in the US told me how hard it was to integrate and find a pathway to work after school in New York.

In China, I noticed there's a pathway for international students who want to stay, particularly those who have developed strong Mandarin skills.

The Chinese government and universities are actively trying to entice international students to come to the country, while also investing in ways to retain graduates.

Campus life looks very different from what I experienced in the US

The internet firewall in China can make research difficult, and I've seen doctors smoking in classrooms between lectures.

Student life also reflects a different set of norms. There is low tolerance for drugs and alcohol on many Chinese campuses. After class, I saw friends playing badminton rather than drinking beer.

Technology and security are also visible on campus. Students on the campuses I studied entered by scanning their faces and were tracked by cameras.

Politics also felt more openly present in academic life. Most of the professors and physicians I worked with were active members of the Communist Party and often wore pins on their lapels to signify it.

As one local friend put it, "having one state party means policies don't change every four years," which, in their view, can create a certain level of stability for universities.

Chinese universities are far cheaper and more specialized

The two universities I studied at in China didn't have the fancy sports facilities most American colleges do, but many students I met weren't going into debt to study either.

Tuition in China is subsidized by the government, especially at public universities. That means it's relatively affordable compared with many Western countries.

Housing and food costs are also inexpensive in my experience. I was eating a healthy lunch on campus for $1 a day. My American campus used to sell a single banana for $1.05 in 2015.

I also spent a year taking general courses in America. While I loved taking a class on Bollywood as a political science major, the specialization offered by many Chinese universities helped better prepare me for the real world. I also saved money by not taking general courses while in China.

Studying in both systems changed how I think about education

I didn't just earn my degrees in multiple countries; I learned about the culture of education. I learned how the government impacts who can study what and if they will be successful.

I'll always be partial to the American scholastic mentality of questioning everything and forming opinions, rather than the rote memorization I saw in China, but I'd prefer not to be launched into the working world with so much student loan debt.

I hope more Americans can form their own opinions of China's educational system, which has rapidly evolved and will only continue to grow in its unique way.

• My husband and I sold our house in the US and moved our four-person family to a suburb in Spain.
• We made some mistakes, like not translating important documents and canceling our US phone numbers.
• Errors aside, I'm thrilled to be building a life for my family in Spain.

When my husband and I decided to move our four-person family from the US to Spain, we had roughly two semesters of college Spanish between us and zero experience living abroad.

We didn't let that stop us, though. Beginning in March 2025, we researched obsessively, read books, made spreadsheets, and put together lists of pros and cons. The more research we did, the more confident we became that Spain was the correct place for our family.

Five months later, we packed up our lives and moved our 6- and 9-year-old sons from Northford, Connecticut, to Las Rozas de Madrid, a suburb northwest of the Spanish capital.

Despite our extensive preparation, lessons awaited us. After all, there's so much to consider while moving abroad (especially with kids), and slipups are unavoidable.

That said, here are five mistakes I wish I'd avoided when my family moved.

I wish I'd started building my community abroad before we left

Between selling our home in Connecticut, finding a place to live in Spain, and figuring out where our sons would enroll in school, I deprioritized my new social life.

I assumed we'd naturally meet people once we got here, and we eventually did. But those first few months were lonely.

We arrived in August, a month before my sons' school year started, and many locals were still away on summer trips. Once school started, it became easier to connect with other families. I also joined a few WhatsApp groups recommended to me by other expats.

I'm still very much in the early stages of building a network here. If I were doing the move over, I'd join related regional and professional groups, connect with families in our area, and start building relationships before I even left the US.

Having even one friend waiting for me in Spain would've made a huge difference.

My husband and I didn't ask the right questions about our sons' school curricula

My husband and I planned to start our boys in an international school to ease their transition into a new country and language, with the goal of eventually moving them into a local Spanish school once they were fluent.

We selected an international private school that follows an International Baccalaureate (IB) curriculum with Spanish language support. It seemed like the perfect fit — until we realized we hadn't asked the right questions.

We failed to realize that our boys, who didn't arrive speaking Spanish, would be learning alongside native speakers rather than building introductory skills.

They're getting an incredible education in Spain, but it's not the foundational language curriculum we expected. We now supplement school with online Spanish tutoring twice a week to fill the gap.

To other parents moving their school-age kids abroad to Spain, I'd recommend asking specifically about language use and requesting sample lesson plans before enrolling to see what language support looks like in practice.

Translating important documents into the local language would've been extremely helpful

Four months after moving, I had to undergo emergency surgery. I felt completely unprepared as I relied on Google Translate and my husband's elementary Spanish language skills to communicate with staff.

We got through it, but "getting through it" isn't the same as feeling safe, understood, and informed.

The scariest moment in the ER was right before I went under anesthesia. I was crying because I couldn't understand what the professionals were saying, couldn't communicate my allergies or medical history, and didn't know what was about to happen.

Luckily, the staff took good care of me, but the experience was harder and more frightening than it needed to be.

Before I left the US, I should have saved a translated medical profile with my allergies, medications, and past surgeries on my phone.

I also should've researched how to access medical translation services, so that if something unexpected happens, I wouldn't have to figure it out in the middle of a crisis.

We didn't know that we couldn't rent a car without a special driving permit

Las Rozas de Madrid is well-connected, so my family doesn't own a car here. When we went to rent one for a holiday trip to Cádiz, we assumed we could do so using our US driver's licenses, but we were wrong.

Without an International Driving Permit, renting a car was off the table. We made the best of the situation, but we were restricted in what we could see and do in Cádiz.

I regret not getting an International Driving Permit before leaving the US. It's easy and costs $20.

Canceling our US numbers created a logistical nightmare

My husband and I both canceled our US phone numbers when we left the country, thinking we'd just use Spanish numbers instead. It was a big mistake.

Accessing our US banks and some key services required us to complete text verifications with our US numbers. So, we've gotten locked out of accounts, struggled with two-factor authentication, and spent hours on international calls trying to fix it.

Rather than canceling my number, I wish I'd ported it, which would've let me move it to an online service while keeping my number, to save us endless headaches.

Even with all the mistakes we've made, I'm glad my family made the move

Six months into our new life in Spain, one thing is certain: I'm so grateful for this journey.

Seeing my kids build new friendships, learn a new language, explore new places, try new foods, and gain confidence as their world expands has made every misstep worth it.

Now, we look back on them as part of our story.

• At the weekend reading retreat I attended, our intergenerational group bonded over more than books.
• We had thoughtful discussions, did a guided meditation, and went on a hike in the woods.
• I came home inspired by the other retreat members and our shared connection.

In my 30s, I joined a book club but soon dropped out. Between juggling work and family, the last thing I needed then was another deadline, even a read-for-fun one.

Flash forward decades: I'm in my 60s now, the kids have flown the nest, and I have more downtime and love all things outdoorsy.

So when a friend suggested All Booked, a luxe reading retreat for women in New York State's Catskill Mountains, I was excited to try book clubs again, especially this one-off weekend version.

When I signed up, I imagined lengthy chats surrounding the retreat's featured trending book: "Mother Mary Come to Me," a memoir by prize-winning author Arundhati Roy. We certainly had those.

But what made the literary getaway especially meaningful were the casual connections we shared as total strangers — eight women in our 20s to late 60s — about life, love, and living with intention.

The retreat's luxe cabin was the perfect place for book chats and a reset

Tucked among 12 wooded acres in Windham, New York, the weekend retreat's luxury log cabin was straight out of Airbnb central casting, complete with pine exposed beams, stone floors, and a dramatic great room with soaring vaulted ceilings and cozy reading nooks.

The first night, we met our host, Suzanne, a former New York City journalist who headed to the Catskills a few years ago and never left.

We introduced ourselves with a favorite book recommendation over an Indian-inspired dinner of delicata-squash salad and curry-marinated chicken, a nod to featured author Roy, who calls New Delhi home.

After changing into our PJs, we gathered on yoga mats in the cabin's loft for a guided meditation before padding off to our log beds.

Introductions continued the next morning over a breakfast of blueberry scones and homemade granola.

Among us were two 20-something bookstagrammers, each with her own daunting stack of extracurricular romantasy novels to speed-read.

Their tripods and ring lights triggered the multitasking question that seemed to trail many of us these days wherever we went: Should we turn an experience into shareable content or power down and just enjoy it, conceivably leaving likes, followers, and revenue (from somewhere) on the table?

Aside from planning to snap a few photos, I am Team Commune with Nature.

Our multigenerational group bonded over books, nature, and a lively debate

After a morning of quiet reading time, our group met at the Windham Path for an afternoon of forest bathing, which turned out to be a slow-motion hike led by Beth, our certified forest therapy guide.

Beth, who left a corporate job to embrace her calling as a forest therapist, invited us to wander off and "connect with a tree you are drawn to."

After appreciating the bark, treetops, and stillness, we reunited with a tea ceremony. Beth poured tiny cups of tea steeped from pine needles from an insulated kettle.

Before sipping the sour reddish liquid, we were instructed to pour some on the ground to give back and thank the forest for its sustenance.

During Saturday night's dinner, Suzanne moderated our discussion of "Mother Mary Comes to Me," about Roy's complicated relationship with her mother, Mary, which eventually led to this question for the group: Is it OK to go no-contact with your parents if they upset you?

The 20-somethings were Team No-Contact, while those of us in midlife and beyond disagreed because bad-parenting moments come with the territory, and well, family is family.

Our POV tracked with the memoir's theme: Roy remained stubbornly devoted to her mom despite their lifelong turbulent relationship.

The connection and community I found that weekend reminded me that life is full of possibilities

The next day, I came home intoxicated with pine-scented fresh air and nurtured by the experience.

Confession: In this chapter as an empty nester, I often feel nestless. It's almost like I'm back in my 20s, asking fundamental questions again, such as: What should I do now? Where should I live now that I don't have to be tied to a good school system?

However, spending the weekend with retreat members, including Suzanne and forest-bathing Beth, who've made bold midlife moves, reminded me that life is an open book, filled with exciting possibilities.

Meanwhile, I've been really noticing the trees during my daily walks, brushing up on my vlogging skills (inspired by the bookstagrammers' industriousness), and seeking out even more ways to meet new friends of all ages.

• Las Vegas is a popular destination in Nevada, but other areas in the state have a lot to offer.
• Spots like Lake Tahoe or the Ruby Mountains are beautiful. Virginia City is great for history buffs.
• If you do visit Vegas, go beyond The Strip and see Red Rock Canyon or the Hoover Dam.

When I first moved to Nevada about seven years ago, I knew little about the state aside from the Las Vegas Strip.

Tens of millions of tourists visit Las Vegas each year, spending billions of dollars in the city's casinos, entertainment venues, and attractions.

Yet my move brought me to Reno, a seven-hour drive from the desert of Las Vegas. Although Reno still has its fair share of casinos, the city feels like a world apart.

In Reno, Vegas' palm trees are traded for pine trees, and the Sierra Nevada mountains are unlike anything found within a reasonable distance from the Sphere.

After moving to Reno, I was intrigued by the diversity of the state. I set a goal to travel around Nevada. Since then, I've visited otherworldly deserts, stunning mountain lakes, and historic mining towns.

Nevada has so much more to offer than just casinos, but most tourists flee to the slot machines without considering other options.

Las Vegas has its appeal, but if you're feeling adventurous, consider visiting these destinations instead.

First, Lake Tahoe makes for a perfect summer (or winter) getaway.

Nevada may be famous for its desert landscapes, but to me, Lake Tahoe is the crown jewel of the state.

The almost 200-square-mile lake marks the border between Nevada and California, with about a third of the lake's shoreline in Nevada.

Lake Tahoe offers year-round recreation. In summer, tourists head to the beaches to swim in crystal-clear water. The region also has hundreds of trails perfect for hiking, mountain biking, and backpacking.

In winter, the lake is a true winter wonderland. Skiers and snowboarders flock to resorts and backcountry trails. If that's not your thing, you can snowshoe through Tahoe's forests or simply walk along a snowy beach with a hot chocolate in hand.

Both the California and Nevada sides of Lake Tahoe are spectacular, but I find the East Shore in Nevada to be more laid-back.

It's got places like Secret Cove and Chimney Beach that are only accessible by foot (or perhaps by kayak), making them quieter than other areas of the lake.

A trip to Virginia City should be on your list if you're a history buff.

Long before Nevada was known for casinos, the state was a hot spot for mining. The 19th century's gold and silver rush led to rapid growth throughout the American West, including in Nevada.

Virginia City is one of the country's most well-preserved mining towns. It's located just 35 minutes from downtown Reno.

The town rose to fame following the discovery of silver ore in 1859. Soon enough, 25,000 residents called the area home, and the town boomed with saloons, theaters, mansions, and mines.

Today, a visit to Nevada City transports you to the Wild West. You can head underground to walk through old mine shafts, tour the (supposedly) haunted Mackay Mansion, or grab a drink in the notorious Bucket of Blood Saloon.

The town has its fair share of cheesy tourist attractions, but it's all part of the fun.

The Ruby Mountains offer scenery akin to the Swiss Alps.

I'm not sure what I expected to see when I took my first road trip to northeastern Nevada, but it certainly wasn't scenery akin to Switzerland.

Nevada's Ruby Mountains are often nicknamed "The Swiss Alps of Nevada." The massive mountain range features peaks towering over 11,000 feet, and the region offers a surprising amount of greenery.

Springtime brings blooming wildflowers and serene waterfalls, and after the snow melts, the region becomes a hiking paradise.

Backpackers can challenge themselves to the Ruby Crest Trail, which traverses more than 40 miles through isolated ridgelines and strikingly blue alpine lakes.

Aside from hiking, the region offers tranquil fishing opportunities in the Ruby Marsh wetlands. Throughout the winter, the mountains are popular among heli-skiers.

If that all sounds too active, it's easy to explore the Ruby Mountains without breaking a sweat. The 12-mile-long Lamoille Canyon Scenic Byway travels through the largest valley in the range, offering unbeatable scenery around every curve.

However, if you do insist on going to Las Vegas, try seeing more than just the inside of a casino.

If you're set on visiting Las Vegas, don't limit yourself to just the Las Vegas Strip.

Red Rock Canyon is just about a 30-minute drive away from the flashy lights of Las Vegas Boulevard. Here you'll find hiking trails, cycling routes, and a 13-mile scenic drive through the canyon.

Places like Mount Charleston and the Hoover Dam are also easy ways to escape the casinos and explore Nevada's natural and engineering marvels.

After living in Nevada for almost a decade, I've come to appreciate each and every corner of the state. Las Vegas seems to get all the attention — and for good reason. There are few places in the country with such a non-stop, bustling energy.

If you're willing to dig just a little deeper, though, I think the real treasures of Nevada lie far from the slot machines and table games.