Our national parks are breathtaking, but they don’t run on beauty alone. The National Park Service faces a staffing crisis, with nearly 1,000 positions eliminated, leaving rangers and staff stretched dangerously thin while our public lands remain increasingly vulnerable.
Now, more than ever, we need to step up to support these dedicated individuals and do our part to lessen our impact on the landscapes we love. Here’s how you can do that if you’re visiting a park this year:
1. Follow Leave No Trace Principles Pack out what you pack in. Stay on trails. Respect wildlife. The less damage we cause, the less work staff have to do to keep the parks clean and safe.
2. Volunteer Your Time Many parks offer volunteer programs where you can help with maintenance, visitor education, and conservation projects. If you’re an experienced hiker, check in with the ranger station and see if you can update blazes on any trails you take.
3. Donate to National Park Organizations Groups like the National Park Foundation and local “Friends of the Park” organizations provide funding for staff, restoration efforts, and educational programs. Some parks have programs that offer mental health support for park staff, like Yellowstone’s Resiliency Project, so those donations directly help people. Take part in the ranger-led programs or buy something in the gift shop — those profits usually go back into the park.
4. Advocate for Better Funding Contact your representatives and urge them to prioritize funding for the National Park Service. Your voice can help secure the resources these parks desperately need. Find your representative here.
5. Travel Responsibly Overcrowding and reckless tourism strain both park resources and staff. Visit during off-peak seasons if possible, use shuttles when available, and camp only in designated areas. Familiarize with the park first so you don’t have to rely on rangers. Also check the “alerts” section of each park’s website before going to stay up-to-date on current conditions.
6. Educate Others Spread awareness about the challenges our national parks face. Encourage friends and family to be responsible visitors and supporters.
7. Show Appreciation A simple thank-you to a ranger or park worker goes a long way. These folks work tirelessly to protect our lands, and a little gratitude can brighten their day.
The hammam I chose in Cappadocia was a random pick. I went with the one boasting the highest Google reviews, tucked away in the next town over. A taxi took me there, winding through the dusty, alien-like landscapes of the region. As we pulled up, I was excited about this quintessential Turkish experience.
But almost immediately, things started to feel … off.
A man greeted me and explained the various spa packages. I told him I just wanted a basic Turkish bath. Then this man hesitated and told me the therapist wasn’t available — he was in the hospital.
“Don’t worry,” he assured me. “We have another location just a couple of minutes away. I’ll take you.” My anxiety bristled. I voiced my concern, but he waved it off with a smile. “Trust me. It’s close.”
What would you do?
I don’t know why I agreed, but minutes later, we were in his truck, driving to the other spa. I paid up front, and the same man from the previous location discounted the price I had been quoted. He gave me a cup of tea and mentioned throwing in some complimentary treatments.
“No extras,” I insisted. “Just the bath.”
Inside the warmth of the hammam, my mind refused to settle. What was his angle? When the therapist moved on to the bonus treatments I’d explicitly declined—a body wrap and a face mask—my panic spiraled: Why the change of location? Is this a setup? Did he drug my tea?
By the time I finished and changed into my clothes, my suspicions were on high alert. And then came the clincher: the man offered to drive me back to my hotel. This is it, I thought. This is where the story turns dark.
In an unknown part of town, far from the taxi stands, I accepted the ride. I gripped my phone tightly, and turned on Google Maps to monitor every twist and turn. My anxiety ran wild: What if he takes a detour? What if he’s kidnapping me? When he slows down for a roundabout, should I jump out of the truck?
When we pulled up in front of my hotel, I braced myself for the shakedown. Instead, he pulled out his phone and opened Google Translate. My heart thudded as I waited for him to type. Finally, he handed it to me.
He had written: “You have such a high energy and always a smile on your face. You seem like a good person, and I am grateful for your visit. I only wish you the very best in life.”
So then I realized I’m an asshole.
I replayed the tape in my head and saw that at every turn, this man had shown kindness and hospitality. He discounted my fee, shared tea with me, ensured I got back safely, and even offered well-wishes. But I had been too busy scrutinizing every move to appreciate any of it.
Maybe it’s living in the U.S. that’s made me so wary of generosity. Or maybe the pandemic eroded my trust in people. Whatever the reason, I wasn’t always this cynical. I used to believe people are inherently good, and I want that part of me back.
What needs to change
I want to be clear: I’m not advocating for throwing caution to the wind or taking unnecessary risks. It’s important to stay aware, especially since I often travel solo.
But I also recognize that somewhere along the way, a switch flipped for me. A few years ago, I shifted from being open-hearted to more fear-based in how I see the world. And my hammam experience made me realize how much that can hold me back.
It’s not just about staying safe; it’s about how anxiety has started to shape my experiences. It keeps me from enjoying the moment, from connecting with people, from having those authentic exchanges that make travel so meaningful. And if I’m not doing that — if I’m just moving through the world with my guard permanently up, anticipating the worst-case scenario — what’s the point?
I want to find my way back to a more balanced perspective, one that lets me stay mindful of risks but doesn’t let fear take the driver’s seat. To meet the world with curiosity instead of suspicion. That’s the part of me I want to nurture again.
In the years to come, I want to meet life with a softer heart, to lean into kindness instead of questioning it. To welcome the unknown—not with suspicion, but with openness. Because sometimes, the world really is as warm as a cup of tea offered by a stranger.
My toxic trait is that when I’m on an extended trip, I can’t commit to just one hotel. I’d rather Goldilocks my way around a city, getting a feel for different neighborhoods and various styles of accommodation.
For our trip to Antigua, this was compounded by the fact that I waited too long to book, so some places were only available for one night. I also had us leaving the city mid-trip to camp out on a volcano, and we returned during a busy holiday, which complicated some of our bookings.
The good news is that I have a lot of great places to recommend. Here goes:
After an abysmal Airbnb at Lake Atitlán that we abandoned after one night (more on that in another post), this was our luxury splurge. We stayed two nights in a deluxe garden room, and it was worth every penny. The entire site was decked out for Christmas, and the festive atmosphere felt pretty magical.
Plus it was just around the corner from a wonderful fair trade shop, and E loved the playground.
Earth Lodge is an eco paradise nestled in the lush mountains, boasting the best views anywhere. It was easily the most “me” place we stayed in Guatemala.
The accommodations at this boutique resort include private tree houses and cabins on an organic avocado farm. We stayed in the El Sueco tree house, built around an oak tree that grows through the floor and climbs through the roof. The loft bed offered the best sleep I had during the entire trip.
Just a short drive from Antigua, Earth Lodge strikes the perfect balance of rustic and luxury with delicious farm-to-table goodies, yoga, traditional Mayan sauna, massages, and more. I highly recommend hanging out in one of the hammocks and doing nothing at all. This is a place I would return to in a heartbeat.
A romantic and stylish hotel with just six rooms for an intimate feel. Also it’s located on the outskirts of town, so it was quiet and peaceful. (If you’re looking to be immersed in the heart of Antigua, this isn’t it. But it’s within safe walking distance of town.) Our stay was far too brief, because we had to leave extremely early in the morning for our volcano trip.
I knew I’d need a dose of luxury after camping on a volcano, so I booked one night at Hotel Museo Spa Casa Santo Domingo. (Prices were higher than normal because it was Christmas Eve, but I deliberately chose a room with a fireplace so Santa could pay a visit.)
The five-star property is built among the ruins of a 17th-century convent, largely destroyed during an earthquake in 1773. Lovingly restored, the bones of the original structures are still visible among the modern buildings.
The gorgeous museum on site boasts multiple galleries, including Indigenous art, Spanish Colonial art, and archeological finds. (Many tourists visit just for the museum, but as hotel guests, we had access to more art tucked away all over the property.) The hotel also includes the aforementioned spa, a couple of restaurants, and a chocolate museum. And my favorite amenity of all: a station with complimentary coffee just outside the door.
My other favorite thing was that after wandering the empty corridors of artwork and priceless displays, Everest whispered, “Mom, this is our Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler moment,” referring to the beloved E.L. Konigsburg book where runaway siblings stay the night in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It made an already memorable stay feel a little more thrilling.
I was originally so excited to share this place with you. This place was very comfortable and clean, great location, excellent bed and shower, budget price. We checked in late at night and had to leave right after breakfast, which made me genuinely sad — I wanted to stay longer. Then I received a WhatsApp message from the front desk clerk that accused us of breaking a lamp in the room and requesting an additional payment. We didn’t break a lamp, so I asked a hotel manager to show me the lamp in question. She said it had been sent out for repairs, but she showed me a photo of a broken lamp. Because I’m a weirdo who takes photos of every hotel room as soon as I enter, I knew the broken lamp had never been in our room — the one in the photo wasn’t similar to ours at all.
The manager finally said she wouldn’t charge us, but this soured what had been a good experience. Afterward, I found reviews that said other guests had issues with unusual or unexpected charges.
Of note
We didn’t stay at Good Hotel, but I really liked the aesthetics of it, and I appreciate their mission of doing good by investing in the community. They don’t allow children in the hotel, however, so we were unable to stay. If you’re traveling without kids, this one is worth a look.
Looking for things to do? I’ve put together a few recommended tours here through Viator. If you book any of those, I earn a small commission.
Guatemala City bookended our nearly three-week stay in the Land of the Eternal Spring. Although friends who know the city well advised me to budget my time elsewhere, we ended up spending a few nights in the city. Here’s where we stayed:
HOSTAL DONDE REGINA: We landed in Guatemala City around midnight and had an early flight to Flores in the morning, so I didn’t want to venture too far into the city. I opted for this no-frills but sweet place within walking distance of the airport. It was about $40/night, home-cooked breakfast was complimentary, and the hotel hung on to our luggage for a few days while we went to Tikal.
Definitely recommend for brief stays.
HYATT CENTRIC: This is where we stayed on Dec. 30, the tail end of our trip, and it was one of the nicest Hyatts I’ve ever had the pleasure to visit. The employees were warm, our room was spacious and comfy, and my son ended up with a bunch of free perks (coloring pages, free ice cream, cookies, a special holiday punch).
As an added bonus, there was a lovely rooftop pool.
Here’s where my ambitious planning went awry, though. Our flight was at 1 a.m. Jan. 1. So I didn’t want to book an entire night’s stay if we were just going to check out at 9 or 10 to head to the airport. We definitely did not need to pay for another night’s stay.
Since we had stayed at the Hyatt the previous night and I have Hyatt status, our late checkout was 3 p.m. I figured it would be easy enough to find something to do in the city, have a long dinner, and waste time until 10 p.m.
I didn’t expect to hit a wall of exhaustion at the end of the trip. I also did not consider how many things would be closed on Dec. 31. We wandered around a little bit, had a sad dinner at a chain restaurant, and walked loops around an empty mall — and then I gave up and tried to book another night at the Hyatt. Alas, it was New Year’s Eve. Everything was either sold out or priced out of our budget. So I used credit card points to book …
Why didn’t I stay an extra night somewhere else in Guatemala and use Dec. 31 as a travel day to get to the airport? That’s a good question, and I probably should have done that. But there had been some protests in Guatemala around the time of this trip, and that included road blockades, so I allowed plenty of extra time (a whole day!) just in case. Luckily, we didn’t run into any travel issues.
Looking for things to do in Guatemala? I’ve put together a few recommended tours here through Viator. If you book any of those, I earn a small commission.
My dad died three months ago. I haven’t found the words to write about it, and I don’t know if I ever will. Some painful things surrounded his death; I’m having trouble sorting through that.
So here are some things that are not entirely related to that loss but not entirely unrelated either.
• I began attending a Death Cafe a few months before my dad died. It’s a place where you can go to talk openly and honestly about death, a topic that’s often taboo. I knew my dad’s life was coming to an end — although I didn’t expect it to happen as quickly as it did — and I wanted to approach it from a healthier place than when my mom died.
I told the group about a picture book my son has, in which a fox is hit by a car and runs into the woods to die, the animal’s body then feeding the earth and other creatures. In this book, death is not an ending but a continuation. It’s a vital part of life.
• Shortly after my father’s death, I climbed Acatenango, a dormant volcano in Guatemala that is joined with Fuego, an active volcano.
My family camped there overnight and sat around a fire as the earth shook, nearby Fuego belching black smoke and fire into the air. Sometimes a rain of ash followed, soft and fine as talcum powder. Other eruptions covered us in soot. I relished that violence, the topsy-turviness of it. Everything seemed upside-down, the black rocks falling from the sky.
Meanwhile, my son saw hearts in the smoke.
• I used to have dreams that my teeth were falling out. Dream interpretation books told me this symbolizes a recent loss or transition. The night I returned from Guatemala, it actually happened in real life. One of my molars crumbled on New Year’s Eve. It was a loss I couldn’t fathom until it happened, a pain I thought I somehow deserved.
• We went to the animal shelter to meet a dog named Milo, but another dog, a mellow, slow-eyed puppy, caught our attention instead. I fell for her immediately. “Let’s wait and think about it,” said my 9-year-old.
That night, my son confessed he was still bereft over the loss of grandpa, and he didn’t want to risk loving anything else that might die. I explained that’s what love is. It’s the everyday bravery of making your heart tender. It’s knowing that you’ll feel pain and loving anyway.
The next day we adopted the dog.
• I had a massage recently and sobbed on the table. The therapist was afraid she had hurt me, but the hurt was already there. She only released it.
