You know that feeling when you hop into a taxi and have no idea what the fare will be? Maybe it’s $20… maybe it’s $200. You just hold your breath and pray it’s not the latter.

That’s basically how most people vacation.

You book a hotel, tack on a few tours, order a few too many piña coladas, and by the time you’re home, your credit card statement hits harder than a rogue wave.

But what if travel worked more like Uber — you see the price upfront, no surprises, no anxiety, just smooth sailing?

That’s the promise of all-inclusive resorts and cruises.
Predictability. Comfort. Zero math involved.

And yet — I’ve never stayed in one. Not once.

I’m more of a wanderer — I like the side streets, the hole-in-the-wall restaurants, and the little places locals send you when they see you’re genuinely curious. But I get it — the allure of the all-inclusive is real.

So today, we’re breaking it down: how they work, who they’re great for, and why I’ve never booked one… even though I totally could.

Let’s start with a number.

A week at Sandals Turks & Caicos for five people:
👉 $12,040 USD.

That’s $344 per person, per night.

Now, here’s what I did instead.

I rented a beachfront villa on VRBO — private pool, kayaks, ocean 30 steps from the door, fire pit, grill, everything.

Cost? $3,357 USD total.

That’s an $8,683 difference — and it came with sunsets so perfect they looked photoshopped.

I bought groceries, cooked some meals, and hit a few local restaurants (yes, food costs more on islands, but not that much more). We scuba-dived, visited caves, explored other islands, and even took kite surfing lessons.

The verdict? My entire trip — activities and all — still cost less than half of what Sandals would have charged.

Half.

So while “unlimited” everything sounds nice, if you like planning your own trips, local eats, and real experiences, that big shiny resort might not be the bargain you think it is.

Let’s be clear — I’m not anti–all-inclusive. For some travelers, they’re a dream.

No guessing, no budgeting, no stress.
It’s vacation autopilot.

But the economics behind it? Fascinating.

All-inclusives run on the same logic as your local buffet: they know you won’t eat as much as you think you will.

Here’s the playbook:

Cruises are no different. You’re trapped (literally) with premium add-ons everywhere — from espresso to excursions.

Even the “free” upgrade pitch can come with a timeshare presentation disguised as paradise.

Here’s something few travelers think about — economic leakage.

Many resorts in the Caribbean and Latin America are foreign-owned, which means a big chunk of your vacation dollars never stay local.

Tourism can account for 14% (or more) of GDP in these regions, but when resorts import food, hire international staff, and send profits back home — local communities don’t see the full benefit.

The good news? That’s slowly changing.

Governments are encouraging local sourcing, community-based tourism, and small-scale hospitality projects that actually keep money in the country.

So if you want your trip to make a real impact — look for places that hire locally, buy locally, and reinvest locally.

That’s how travel becomes not just fun, but sustainable.

All-inclusives are the Marie Kondo of travel — they spark joy by removing every decision.
Meals? Included.
Drinks? Included.
Stress? Deleted.

But so is spontaneity.

When every cocktail and meal is prepaid, you’re less likely to wander into town, try that roadside empanada stand, or talk to the fisherman whose family has lived there for generations.

You trade adventure for convenience.
And that’s okay — if that’s what you need.

But for me, it’s the unexpected detours that make a trip unforgettable. The half-broken scooter ride, the wrong turn that led to the best meal of your life, the conversation that made you see the country differently.

All-inclusives offer the comfort of control.
But sometimes, the best stories happen when you give it up.

Absolutely — if what you want is zero surprises and a stress-free week with your toes in the sand.

But if you want immersion, freedom, and connection, try the DIY route. Rent the villa. Explore. Meet the locals. Burn your own marshmallows on the fire pit.

It’s messier, sure. But it’s yours.

And it might just cost you thousands less.