I was laid out on a lounge chair next to my sister, piña colada in hand, staring out at the sugar-white beaches in Aruba and debating whether to join in on the beach volleyball game or just keep reading. We were visiting the Divi & Tamarijn All-Inclusive as part of its new Wellness Week—designated days of fitness programming, led by two visiting influencers. That morning, we’d made it to an outdoor yoga sculpt class, and the next day, we had a 7 a.m. strength class with celebrity trainer Sierra Nielsen, before heading back to New York. But we weren’t tied to any of it. We could do as much—or as little—as we wanted, without having to cancel a reservation or flake on a group tour we didn’t feel like doing.

Five years ago, if you told me I would voluntarily sign up for an all-inclusive, I would’ve scoffed. I thought they were the anti-vacation: no culture, no spontaneity, no good food. You showed up, got your wristband, and entered a world of pool aerobics, watered-down frozen daiquiris, and mediocre buffet food left under heat lamps for far too long. But after months of nonstop deadlines and life stress, this kind of low-stakes, fully-planned itinerary actually sounded perfect.

Most of us are collectively exhausted: burnt out from work, from news, and from trying to optimize every waking moment (or all three.) And all-inclusives—once written off as generic or family-oriented—suddenly feel like a smart, restorative choice. Dr. Aerial Cetnar, a licensed therapist, has noticed more and more of clients just wanting to relax. “Many people are experiencing a kind of mental exhaustion, a feeling of being maxed out. In those situations, people are looking for vacations that feel very predictable,” she says. “An all-inclusive can reduce the mental load of worrying about what you’re going to do on this day or the next.”

High stress levels could explain why more travelers, especially Gen Z, are rethinking the all-inclusive. According to Expedia’s 2025 trend report, one-third of Gen Z respondents say their perception of all-inclusives has changed for the better, and 42% say they’d actually prefer an all-inclusive over another accommodation because of the minimal stress and ease of booking.

Resorts are paying attention and upping their game. Instead of frozen margaritas and cheesy entertainment, more are catering to younger, wellness-minded travelers with high-quality meals and creative activities. One example is Alila Ventana Big Sur, a rustic resort set in a redwood grove above the Pacific Ocean. During your stay, you can enjoy Japanese soaking tubs, daily yoga and meditation, and a rotating schedule of guided hikes, beekeeping demos, and foraging walks. You don’t need to plan in advance; the staff will give you a weekly schedule at check-in. If you want to plan your own adventure, you can grab gear, like a Yeti cooler, beach blanket, or daypack, from the front desk. Meals are included at the Sur House, a sit-down restaurant that leans heavily on local and seasonal sourcing—and it’s much better than your typical buffet fare. “Get the chorizo breakfast scramble! I still think about it a year later,” said one traveller on a Reddit thread. Alcohol isn’t covered, which makes it an easy choice for people who don’t drink or prefer to BYOB, but it’s the programming—not the cocktails—that makes it worthy of the all-inclusive title.

Other resorts, like Miraval Resorts, a chain of all-inclusives with locations in Texas, Arizona, and Massachusetts, are encouraging travelers to unplug and escape the work grind. At these resorts, you can use your personal devices in your room and in designated areas, but everywhere else, you have to go phone-free. You’ll have plenty to keep you entertained, though, with a full schedule packed with hikes, bone broth demos, meditations, foam rolling classes, and mountain biking and slacklining lessons (depending on the location.) There’s even a session with a “sleep and dream specialist” to learn about your circadian rhythms.

Although a not a full-on Thomas the Tank Engine fan, I have for 65 years been an out-there and unashamed enthusiast for anything running on rails (‘Thomas the Tank Engine clung to me like a disease’: the film about the choo-choo’s global grownup superfans, 22 July).

My wife and I sometimes do front-of-house at a heritage railway and can confirm the attraction of railways for those with autism, particularly young people. There is a predictability about railways, timetables, signals and all the other paraphernalia that is very attractive.

Also, there is endless scope for studying minutiae and collecting odd bits of information. Numbers and names on the engines, liveries (colours of trains to you), performance records and endless other statistics. And, as honoured by Brannon Carty’s film, discussed in your article, you don’t have to be a loner if you don’t want to: there are millions of others to share your passion.

The study of Thomas’s creator, the Anglican cleric Wilbert Awdry, is recreated at the Narrow Gauge Railway Museum in Tywyn: a small collection of theological texts on one side, a joyful collection of railway books on the other, with a model railway spread across his desk. Wonderful!
Rev David Gibson
Newark-on-Trent, Nottinghamshire