In Kind on Monday: Leah's All-Inclusive Vacation Diary

What happens when you bring littles to an all-you-can-eat, play-all-day fantasy land?

Amongst all of the different travel styles that surely exist between us here, there’s got to be one key thing everyone can agree on.

When you’re traveling with kids, it’s a family trip, not a vacation.

That anchoring realization has saved many people I know from allowing time away from real life to devolve into what we’d colloquially call “a big huge mess” (i.e., where everyone’s tearful and on the edge, the magic impossible to spot and a true vacation required at the end of it all).

Solutions to avoid the insanity exist, one of which has to be a careful consideration of the where of it all. When we were considering our second-ever trip as a quad of four, I was excited but nervous: Where was the place and what was the setting that would feel different and out-of-the-ordinary but worth it (as in: time-wise, distance-wise, and everyone coming away with a positive experience versus, why did we ever think that was a good idea??).

I had traveled with Club Med to celebrate the opening of its luxe Sicily property pre-kids, and the entire trip had wow’ed me. My European friends all seemed to know and like Club Med, whereas most Americans were puzzled, a fact that seems to come down to the brand’s history. Founded in the mid 1900s by a Frenchman, it was a massive thing in Europe that owned the idea of the all-inclusive, then a relatively unheard of thing. Still today the experience feels delightfully European, no matter where you are—I would say we heard French spoken by guests much more than English, which actually felt like one of the many pros of the entire thing.

There’s the wonderful all-inclusive aspect (eat whatever you want for breakfast! pop by for a drink at any time!) and the fact that so much is set up for families and children, but the thing I find so bewitching and unique is the spirit that sinks into all of it. (They even have a marketing term for it: l’espirt libre).

Everyone working there reminded me of the lifestyle I knew as a camp counselor. These are people who work and live and play together, who genuinely love their job and the world (image if Trader Joe’s was also in the resort business). We were obviously one of thousands who pass through during the season, but the smiles and greetings we got from the same people, day after day, made it feel like they knew us—and, more so, were happy to see us.

Here, a little deeper dive into a few elements that made the difference to me (because, more and more, I know this is what I want to hear from other moms: on-the-ground recos about what it all actually felt like). x Leah

Last month we flew to its newly souped-up Cancun property, a four-hour flight from our East Coast home that felt like something special (we had to get passports for the kids after all), yet didn’t necessitate a longer haul route or major time difference.

Like most Club Meds, the actual resort was sprawling, with different energies and vibes depending where you were. The section that was our home—the “Family Oasis”—was decidedly the young-kid-centric part, minutes away from the newly revamped water park (with three slides appropriate for my 4-year-old daughter in her water wings, a great splash pad, and a shallow pool where we could easily stand with them).

The family-friendly infinity pool near our section was also beautiful and included the little things you don’t realize you’ve missed until you have it: a wade-in entrance, pint-sized cabana loungers, and bar outfitted with snacks that made it for them (chocolate coins, lollipops, and some chocolate-covered marshmallow concoction from the refrigerated section).

We stayed in an oceanfront room in the resort’s Aguamarina section, which was perfect, with a small separate bedroom for the kids, two bathrooms, a bathtub, and a lounging living room area that was much used for siesta breaks and TV watching.

I remember being puzzled by the idea of traveling with kids before I had my own: What do you do? Are you perpetually booking two rooms? What about when the kids are so young? I learned the hotel arrangement is the key (duh, I know), and our Club Med room set up was fantastic.

The kids’ room with two twin beds was at the far end from our king, and it created that magical blend of independence and practicality for naps and rests when they were in bed and we were still moving around.

In vacation perfection, the room was oceanfront and ground level, with a sliding door that opened to a little grassy area with loungers, an outdoor shower, and stairs down to a slender arm of beach (that must have been in some sort of lagoon arrangement, without the waves that can make normal surfside activities feel so perilous with young kids).

Some of my favorite moments were leaving our snoozing toddler in the room with Dad while we traipsed down to look for shells and build water-fairy houses.

I’m all in on all-inclusive for the luxurious freedom it provides. A smorgasbord sampler plate of pizza and main dish and salad and a spot of guacamole for lunch? Easy breezy.

It was great for picky kids (one of whom ate almost exclusively Spanish-labeled Fruit Loops), and my personal stance was, “When in Club Med.” Yes, we let our already fairly lax food rules slide, and, no, I didn’t allow space for a shred of guilt or worry over the vegetable intake. Which, to be very clear, isn’t anything on the options but about my personal little crew.

The two things I found remarkable and oh-so wonderful about this sort of meal setup is twofold: The large, main restaurant had plenty of tables with booth-like bench seating, and we snagged one a few times with the intention of letting it function as a crash pad for littles who couldn’t abide by a traditional nap. I’d allow TV on the phone, encourage someone to lay down with their head in my lap, then lean into sipping on some endless drink while they snoozed.

The second was the optionality it provided. More than once we’d have our main lunch, then take a break between walking to the other restaurant for dessert (or round two for my husband).

We also grabbed dinner at the nicer steakhouse spot one night (reservations required, with a menu versus walk-and-grab). It was lovely, though I’ll be honest: With crazy small people in tow, I preferred the freedom and mobility at the main spots.

Here’s where I’m mostly a total anomaly in the Club Med universe, but: We didn’t actually take advantage of the glories of its Kids’ Club (which, essentially, is like a version of the day camp my kids love during the summer: crafts and planned games and activities like the “banana hunt” we heard someone else mentioning). It’s also worth noting that the recent renovations include “Baby Club Med” where children four to twenty-three months can be left with the pros.

My youngest is a clingy kind of guy, and the stress of trying to get him to normalize a new place didn’t feel worth it (plus, as parents who both have full-time jobs, I was reluctant to hand off my precious getaway time, but I could totally see myself being convinced otherwise in the future, especially as it would have freed my husband and I up for sailing or other activities that aren’t open to younger kids).

That said, it’s a place packed with options in mind. There was the aforementioned kids’ water park, but also an always-popping ping pong table on our walk to meals and a “sports and wellness island” with mini golf, trampolines, bocce, basketball, and—for the slightly braver and/or older—a trapeze and archery.

Moments like this are fleeting and harder to wrangle than we all sometimes want to admit, which makes finding your spot—the one that offers help via the bones of its very design—so, so very wonderful.

Happy getaway season! x Leah