Then you start spotting the rainbows.

They’re taped in the windows of independent bookstores, stenciled on chalkboards outside coffee shops, sewn into bunting along farm-market stalls, and hanging—without fanfare—from front porches on quiet residential streets. A decade ago, this swath of rural Nova Scotia was best known for apples, universities, and the fog rolling in off the Minas Basin. Now, without much national fanfare, it has become a quietly confident, unexpectedly queer-friendly corner of North America, offering LGBTQ+ travelers a different kind of escape: not a party mecca, but a place to exhale.

The Annapolis Valley stretches along the Bay of Fundy in western Nova Scotia, a largely rural region dotted with small towns like Wolfville, Kentville, and Berwick, plus vineyards and orchards that roll toward the water. In recent years, Nova Scotia as a province has been repeatedly cited as one of Canada’s more LGBTQ-inclusive jurisdictions, with protections for sexual orientation, gender identity, and gender expression baked into provincial human rights law.

Wolfville, a university town anchored by Acadia University, has long skewed progressive, but its visible celebration of queer identity has intensified alongside a growing emphasis on diversity and inclusion in campus life and town policy. Acadia University has an Equity, Diversity and Inclusion office and supports queer student groups that regularly collaborate on Pride events in town. Town council meeting minutes from the last several years show routine proclamations of Pride Week, plus approvals for rainbow crosswalks and seasonal flag-raisings.

For queer visitors, the result is subtle but tangible. You can walk down Main Street holding your partner’s hand and, for the most part, draw no more attention than the couple arguing about what size bag of apples to buy.

The region’s most visible queer moment each year is Annapolis Valley Pride, centered largely in and around Wolfville and Kentville. Annapolis Valley Pride Society organizes parades, community picnics, youth events, and all-ages drag shows, leaning into the region’s family-oriented vibe while still centering LGBTQ+ joy. Events have included flag-raising ceremonies at town halls, sober social gatherings, storytelling nights, and performances in local venues that double—as only small-town infrastructure can—as both community theatre stages and high-school auditoriums.

For travelers used to big-city Pride circuits, this can feel less like a spectacle and more like being folded into an extended family reunion where everyone happens to know a very enthusiastic drag queen. A recent program included a “Pride at the Market” day where local farmers and artisans set up stalls decorated in rainbow bunting, selling everything from queer-owned small-batch cider to hand-dyed yarn and pronoun pins.

There is humor in the scale: a drag performer lip-syncing next to a stall selling 20-pound bags of potatoes; toddlers in rainbow suspenders zig-zagging between displays of heirloom tomatoes; an elder queer couple explaining to a curious farmer that yes, in fact, you can be nonbinary and still love a good plaid shirt.

What the Annapolis Valley does not have is a dense grid of gay bars, saunas, or circuit parties. This is not a destination for all-night clubbing. Instead, queer life is woven into the existing social fabric: indie cafés, farmers’ markets, campus hangouts, live-music venues, and quiet trails.

Wolfville’s cafés and bookshops—many independently run—regularly host queer-friendly events, from zine launches by LGBTQ+ writers to board game nights and open mics that explicitly encourage participation from transgender people, nonbinary folks, and other underrepresented voices. Posters on bulletin boards advertise everything from a local queer hiking group to a gender-diverse clothing swap.

Kentville, a short drive away, has invested in a network of trails and riverside parks that double as de facto gathering spaces, especially during Pride season and summer festivals. It is not unusual to see small groups of queer friends and couples picnicking along the Cornwallis River, a rainbow blanket spread out amid families and dog walkers.

For LGBTQ+ travelers—especially those who do not see themselves reflected in glossy ads for big-city “gayborhoods”—the Valley’s model can feel refreshing. Instead of asking queer people to come to a gay enclave, it invites them into a community that is quietly learning how to make every shared space a little safer.

Accommodations in the Annapolis Valley run the gamut from chain hotels along Highway 101 to historic inns and farm stays tucked into the hills. Nova Scotia’s official tourism site highlights several LGBTQ-friendly accommodations across the province and explicitly markets the region as “welcoming and inclusive” to LGBTQ visitors, noting the presence of Pride events in multiple rural communities.

Many small inns and bed-and-breakfasts in and around Wolfville and Grand Pré are run by owners who prominently display Pride and Trans Pride flags on their websites and properties and note inclusivity in their booking policies. Listings on provincial and third-party booking platforms increasingly highlight explicit statements welcoming same-sex couples, transgender travelers, and nonbinary guests, with several properties using gender-neutral language and offering flexible check-in arrangements for privacy and safety.

At night, away from the modest glow of town centers, the sky opens up. Stargazing becomes an unofficial Valley pastime, whether from a vineyard deck chair or a farmhouse porch. It is difficult to overstate what it feels like to be a queer or trans person sitting under that kind of sky in a place that takes your safety seriously. Rural darkness paired with visible inclusion—signs, flags, pronouns on staff name tags—can be quietly radical.

The Annapolis Valley has developed a reputation as one of Atlantic Canada’s emerging wine regions, with vineyards producing crisp whites and sparkling wines that have won national recognition. Wineries around Wolfville and Grand Pré offer tastings, tours, and seasonal events, many of which attract a diverse crowd that includes LGBTQ+ locals and visitors. Queer couples and friend groups are increasingly visible on patios overlooking tidy rows of vines and the tidal flats beyond.

Several craft cideries and breweries have collaborated with local Pride organizers on limited-run labels supporting LGBTQ+ causes, donating a portion of proceeds during Pride weeks in the Valley and elsewhere in Nova Scotia. Seasonal events like “queer trivia nights” or low-key drag performances in tasting rooms, advertised via Instagram and community posters, help normalize the idea that rural craft culture and queer community are not mutually exclusive.

For travelers, this means you can spend a day cycling between vineyards and cideries, sampling tart, effervescent ciders and regional specialties, without feeling the subtle tension of wondering whether it is safe to lean across the table and kiss your date.

Outdoor experiences are central to the Valley’s appeal: hiking in Cape Split Provincial Park, walking the UNESCO-listed dykelands of Grand Pré, or watching the Bay of Fundy’s high tides churn red-brown water along the shore. Trails range from accessible, stroller-friendly paths along dykes to more strenuous cliffside routes where the wind can feel like a personality test.

Local organizations and informal groups have begun organizing explicitly queer and trans-inclusive hikes and nature outings, often advertised through Pride networks and local social media. For LGBTQ+ travelers who may have complicated relationships with their bodies—because of dysphoria, disability, fatphobia, or racism—the presence of such groups signals that the outdoors here is not reserved for a narrow idea of who belongs in hiking boots. Queer and transgender people can show up in whatever combination of flannel, binders, nail polish, mobility aids, or glitter feels right that day.

The sensory experience is grounding: spruce and salt on the air, the squelch of tidal mud underfoot, the startling orange of lichen on basalt. There is humor too, in the shared grunt of strangers-turned-trailmates when a “moderate” hike reveals itself to be wishful thinking on the part of whoever wrote the sign.

Nova Scotia’s long history includes Indigenous Mi’kmaq stewardship of the land, Acadian settlement and displacement, and Black Loyalist communities, and today’s Annapolis Valley reflects that layered past in ways that continue to evolve. Queer and trans people who are also Indigenous, Black, or people of color may find both points of connection and the familiar gaps that appear in many rural communities where white residents are the majority.

Local Pride organizers have publicly emphasized intersectionality in their programming and mission statements, naming commitments to racial justice, Indigenous reconciliation, and accessibility in addition to LGBTQ+ rights. Events have included collaborations with Indigenous artists and Two-Spirit community members, as well as workshops on anti-racism and safer spaces.

On paper, Canada performs strongly on measures of LGBTQ+ legal protections, with marriage equality, anti-discrimination laws, and hate crime provisions at the federal level. Indexes like the annual Gay Travel Index from Spartacus and analyses by organizations such as ILGA World consistently place Canada among the world’s safer destinations for LGBTQ+ travelers.

Getting to the Annapolis Valley generally involves flying into Halifax Stanfield International Airport and driving about an hour west on Highway 101. Car rentals are widely available at the airport, and a patchwork of buses and shuttles connects Halifax with Wolfville and other Valley towns for those who prefer not to drive.

Once based in Wolfville, Kentville, or Berwick, most attractions—wineries, markets, trailheads—sit within short drives or bike rides. Provincial tourism offices provide free maps and guides that now routinely include Pride events and, in some cases, LGBTQ-specific travel tips.

But places like Nova Scotia’s Annapolis Valley suggest another possibility: that a rural landscape of apple orchards, tidal mudflats, and quiet campuses can also hold our bodies and stories. That a Pride flag tacked to the side of a farmstand can mean as much as a 30-foot banner in a downtown core. That queer and transgender people can be not just visitors or novelties, but neighbors, staff, elected officials, and the person who recommends which variety of apple will hold up best in your pie.

For travelers who want to feel seen and safe without disappearing into a crowd, the Valley offers something rare: room to breathe; space to hear your own footsteps on a dyke trail; and the gentle, persistent reminder—in rainbow stickers on cash registers and pronouns on nametags—that you belong here, exactly as you are.

Reno does not market itself as a gay resort town in the mold of Palm Springs or Provincetown, but local advocacy and cultural shifts have made it one of the more tangible examples of LGBTQ+ inclusion in the Intermountain West. In 2023 the city earned a perfect 100 score on the Human Rights Campaign Municipal Equality Index, which evaluates local laws, policies, and services affecting LGBTQ+ residents and visitors. That score – repeated in multiple recent years – places Reno in the same tier as far more famous queer destinations, signaling that the legal and policy climate is notably welcoming.

For queer travelers, policy can matter as much as nightlife. Reno’s 100‑point ranking on the Human Rights Campaign Municipal Equality Index reflects citywide nondiscrimination protections, inclusive municipal employment benefits, and active engagement with LGBTQ+ community organizations. Nevada state law also bans discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity in employment, housing, and public accommodations, and includes gender identity in its hate‑crime statute. These measures create a baseline of legal safety that many queer travelers specifically look for when choosing a destination.

In practical terms, this framework shows up in everyday civic life. The City of Reno has an official Human Rights Commission that includes focus on LGBTQ+ equity, and city leadership has publicly marked Pride Month with proclamations and the raising of Pride flags at government buildings in recent years. For transgender people and nonbinary visitors, the presence of explicitly inclusive language in city and state policies can help reduce the anxiety that often comes with navigating new public spaces.

If you look beyond casino marquees, a network of LGBTQ+ organizations gives Reno’s queer community structure and visibility. The long‑running nonprofit Our Center operates as northern Nevada’s LGBTQ+ community hub, providing support groups, youth programming, social events, and resources for transgender people and queer elders. Its calendar, which ranges from gender‑affirming peer circles to low‑key social nights, offers easy entry points for visitors who want to connect with locals rather than just pass through town.

On the university side, the University of Nevada, Reno hosts a Pride‑focused LGBTQ+ and ally student organization, along with an official Gender, Race, and Identity academic program that regularly sponsors public lectures and cultural events touching on queer issues. This campus presence filters into the city’s social life, particularly in the Midtown and downtown corridors, where students mingle with long‑time residents, artists, and hospitality workers.

Healthcare access, a concern for many LGBTQ+ travelers, is also part of the picture. Renown Health, the region’s major not‑for‑profit healthcare system, publicly states that it offers LGBTQ+ inclusive care and has participated in Pride events, while Northern Nevada HOPES – a community health center based in Reno – provides gender‑affirming care, HIV services, and PrEP access in an affirming environment.

For a city its size, Reno’s Pride weekend is striking. The Northern Nevada Pride parade and festival, centered in Midtown Reno along the Truckee River and organized by Our Center, draws tens of thousands of attendees annually and has grown steadily in scope, adding multiple performance stages, family spaces, and an expanded list of local and regional sponsors. The event explicitly positions itself as a cross‑border celebration, reflecting Reno’s role as the main urban center for a vast rural region of Nevada and neighboring California.

Reno’s queer calendar does not end in July. Our Center and Northern Nevada Pride collaborate on events throughout the year, including Transgender Day of Visibility observances, youth‑oriented gatherings, and community resource fairs. The city has also hosted drag brunches, LGBTQ+ film screenings connected to local independent theaters, and queer‑inclusive arts programming during the larger citywide Artown festival each July, which presents hundreds of music, theater, and visual arts events across Reno.

The Midtown district is where many visitors first sense how much Reno has changed. Over roughly the past decade, this formerly overlooked stretch south of downtown has become a walkable corridor of independent coffee shops, bars, vintage stores, tattoo studios, and restaurants, anchored by large‑scale murals commissioned through city and arts‑organization partnerships.

Local tourism and business organizations often highlight Midtown as the heart of Reno’s creative resurgence, and it is also where you will find a concentration of queer‑friendly spaces. LGBTQ+ travelers report gravitating to venues that openly advertise drag shows, Pride‑month specials, or support for local LGBTQ+ charities, particularly along Virginia Street and surrounding side streets.

Queer nightlife here tends to blur the line between “gay bar” and mainstream venue. Bars and lounges host themed nights featuring drag performers from Reno and nearby Sacramento, while live‑music spots book queer‑fronted bands and singer‑songwriters. During Northern Nevada Pride weekend, the neighborhood becomes an unofficial festival after‑party strip, with rainbow flags and trans flags hanging from balconies and chalk art spilling onto sidewalks.

Reno’s downtown has long been defined by casinos, but recent years have seen a shift toward a more mixed‑use, river‑oriented urban core. The Truckee River Walk – a paved path along the water lined with public art, small parks, and patio dining – has become a central gathering place for locals and visitors. Water levels permitting, you can watch kayakers navigate the whitewater features of the Truckee River Whitewater Park from a café table or amphitheater seat, a scene that feels far from the windowless gaming floors Reno was once known for.

While casinos still dominate some blocks, several major properties have repositioned themselves to emphasize food, live entertainment, and event hosting, including concerts and conventions that draw a visibly queer crowd. Regional LGBTQ+ sports associations and community groups have used downtown hotels as home‑base properties during Pride and other gatherings, contributing to a sense of comfort for queer travelers moving between the riverfront, arts spaces, and evening events.

For those who prefer quieter nights, boutique hotels and short‑term rentals in the Riverwalk and Midtown areas offer walkable access to dining and arts venues without requiring guests to pass through gaming floors, an option some LGBTQ+ travelers specifically seek out for comfort and accessibility reasons.

Reno’s arts ecosystem has grown alongside its queer community. The city brands itself officially as “Artown” during its July arts festival, which features over 500 events across genres, many of them free and family‑friendly. Drag performers, queer musicians, and LGBTQ+ visual artists have been part of Artown programming, often in collaboration with Our Center and other community groups to ensure inclusive representation.

Reno is also a key staging city for the Burning Man festival in Nevada’s Black Rock Desert, and the influx of artists, makers, and radically self‑expressive participants has shaped the local creative scene. Queer travelers who connect with Burning Man’s culture of radical inclusion and gender‑variant expression will find echoes of that ethos in Reno’s warehouse galleries, maker spaces, and interactive sculptures installed around downtown and the riverfront.

Formal institutions anchor this creative energy. The Nevada Museum of Art, the state’s only accredited art museum, regularly mounts exhibitions engaging with issues of identity, landscape, and social change, including shows by artists who explore queer and gender‑nonconforming themes. The museum also partners with local organizations and schools, helping to normalize LGBTQ+ inclusion within Reno’s broader cultural life.

Part of Reno’s appeal is how quickly you can move from urban streets to open landscapes. The city sits at the base of the Sierra Nevada, a short drive from alpine lakes, high‑desert trails, and ski resorts around Lake Tahoe. For LGBTQ+ travelers who prioritize outdoor experiences, this means the ability to pair queer nightlife and cultural events with hiking, snowboarding, or kayaking in a single trip.

Lake Tahoe, about 45 minutes from Reno depending on route and conditions, is an established regional draw with beaches, ski areas, and year‑round recreation. LGBTQ+ visitors frequently base themselves in Reno for more affordable lodging and queer community access, then make day trips to Tahoe for alpine scenery and outdoor sports. Local LGBTQ+ groups have organized queer‑inclusive hikes, snow days, and paddling meetups, often publicized through their websites and social media.

Within the city limits, the Truckee River corridor functions as an everyday nature escape. Shade trees, small beaches, and pedestrian bridges make it easy to find quieter corners for reflection or a picnic, while dog‑friendly paths attract a steady flow of locals and their pets. For transgender travelers and others who sometimes feel scrutinized in more confined spaces, the combination of open sightlines and mixed crowds can contribute to a greater sense of ease.

Unlike more famous LGBTQ+ destinations, Reno rarely appears at the top of national queer travel lists, which tend to spotlight coastal cities, historic resort towns, or long‑known “gayborhoods.” Yet affordability rankings and “most overlooked” city features aimed at general travelers have increasingly called attention to Reno’s revitalization, its growing arts profile, and its positioning as a smaller, more accessible alternative to larger metros.

For LGBTQ+ travelers, that under‑the‑radar status can be part of the draw. Instead of a destination dominated by tourism, visitors encounter a city where queer life is woven into everyday institutions: a community center on a neighborhood street rather than a resort complex, drag artists sharing festival stages with bluegrass bands, Pride floats sponsored by local clinics and libraries.

Reno’s combination of robust legal protections, an active community center, a growing arts scene, and direct access to Sierra Nevada landscapes positions it as a compelling “hidden gem” for LGBTQ+ travelers who want to feel both welcomed and genuinely plugged into local culture. For queer people used to choosing between high‑priced resort enclaves and large, sometimes overwhelming cities, the Biggest Little City offers a third option: a place where the Pride flags on downtown bridges and the pronoun pins at coffee counters are not a curated brand, but simply part of how the city is learning to see itself.

The property is housed in a 17th-century building that has played multiple roles in Valencia’s recent cultural history, including serving as a dance club in the 1970s and later being occupied as a squatted space in the 1990s, before its latest transformation into a queer hotel. According to the International LGBTQ+ Travel Association , Axel Hotel Valencia now embraces that layered past while functioning as a contemporary meeting point for LGBTQIA+ travelers and allies.

Operated by Barcelona-based Axel Hotels, which describes itself as an LGBTQIA+–focused chain “aimed at the LGTBIQ+ public but open to everyone,” the Valencia property follows the brand’s model of creating explicitly queer spaces that are inclusive of all guests. The company’s marketing and communications leadership has emphasized in interviews that Axel properties are designed as “paradise free from labels and stigmas of any kind,” with a strong focus on safety and comfort for LGBTQIA+ travelers.

Axel Hotel Valencia is part of a broader growth strategy that has seen the group expand to more than ten properties across Europe and Latin America, including hotels in Barcelona, Madrid, Berlin, Ibiza, Maspalomas, Bilbao, Mykonos, Porto, and Havana. In coverage of Axel Hotels’ five-year plan, travel outlet Pink Ticket Travel reported that the Valencia opening is a key step in the company’s effort to anchor queer hospitality in cities where LGBTQIA+ life is visible and growing, noting that Valencia and Porto have both seen rising interest as gay-friendly destinations.

The hotel offers a range of amenities tailored to both leisure and city-break travelers. Axel Hotel Valencia features a seasonal outdoor pool, a rooftop Skybar—an Axel brand signature—spa and wellness facilities including a sauna and Turkish bath/hammam, a fitness center, and on-site bar and restaurant services. Listings on platforms such as Hotels.com and Booking.com describe the property as adults-only, with air-conditioned rooms, free Wi‑Fi, and multiple room categories including single, double, and suites.

Travelers’ reviews on TripAdvisor highlight the central location and modern interior design, describing the hotel as clean, comfortable, and well-placed for exploring Valencia’s nightlife and cultural offerings. Several guests also point to the welcoming atmosphere for LGBTQIA+ visitors as a significant part of the appeal.

From an LGBTQIA+ perspective, the opening of Axel Hotel Valencia adds another clearly identified queer space to Spain’s already extensive network of inclusive venues. Spain has for years been recognized by international organizations and travel bodies as one of Europe’s more advanced countries on LGBTQ+ legal protections, including marriage equality and anti-discrimination laws, which contribute to its popularity among queer travelers. The presence of an IGLTA-listed queer hotel in central Valencia signals both commercial confidence in the city’s LGBTQIA+ tourism market and a continued normalization of visible queer spaces within mainstream urban tourism.

Axel Hotels’ expansion into cities such as Valencia also reflects an evolution in how queer hospitality is framed. Early branding for the company leaned heavily toward gay male imagery, but recent coverage and the brand’s own communications describe a shift toward more inclusive language and representation that aims to welcome lesbian, bisexual, transgender, non-binary, intersex, and queer people, along with supportive heterosexual guests. This aligns with broader trends in LGBTQIA+ travel, where travelers increasingly look for accommodations that explicitly acknowledge diverse identities and commit to respectful, inclusive service.

By combining a historically significant building, a central urban location, and a clearly articulated queer-focused concept, Axel Hotel Valencia positions itself as both a base for exploring the city and a community-oriented space for LGBTQIA+ people and allies. As the chain continues to grow across multiple countries, properties like the one in Valencia demonstrate how dedicated queer hotels are becoming an established, visible part of the global hospitality landscape.

Commuters and tourists entering the station beside the iconic amphitheater can view displays of ceramic vases and plates, stone wells and suspended buckets, as well as the ruins of a cold plunge pool and thermal bath from a first-century dwelling. Screens show the excavation process — serving both to delight archaeology enthusiasts, and justify why it has taken so long to open the station.

The multibillion-euro Metro C subway line has been in the works for two decades but has been slowed by bureaucratic and funding delays and, crucially, the archaeological excavations necessary, given the underground ruins of imperial Roman and medieval civilizations in its way.

“The challenge was ... building it under such a large amount of groundwater and at the same time preserving all the archaeological finds that we found during the excavation, and all this while preserving everything that is above,” said Marco Cervone, construction manager for the consortium building the subway line, led by Webuild.

The total cost of the line’s 31 stations — three-quarters of which are now operational — will reach around 7 billion euros ($8.3 billion) and be completed by 2035, according to the press office of the city-owned company that has contracted the works.

Rome was inaugurating another station on Tuesday, Porta Metronia, located one stop away from the one beside the Colosseum and likewise at a depth of 30 meters (around 100 feet).

It features a nearly 80-meter (260-foot) military barracks dating to the start of the second century, found at a depth between 7 and 12 meters (22 and 39 feet), according to Simona Moretta, the scientific director of the excavation.

“Surety that it was a military building is given by the fact that the entrances to the rooms are not facing each other, but are offset, so that the soldiers could leave the rooms and get in line without colliding in the corridor,” the archaeologist told reporters.

Soldiers would either have been part of the emperor's guard or stationed there for city security, she added.

There's also a home with well-preserved frescoes and mosaics. A museum within the station will be opened in the future, Moretta said.

Digging near the center of Rome means coming in the contact with three millennia of civilizations built atop one another. So far, the consortium building Line C has found more than 500,000 artifacts, according to WeBuild.

In order to work in the delicate archaeological area, the company has employed techniques including freezing the ground to stabilize soil, as well as so-called sacrificial diaphragms — concrete walls built perpendicular to perimeter walls that are demolished as excavation advances.

As the subway line continues onward past the Colosseum, it will run underneath more of the world’s most important cultural heritage sites — Trajan’s Column and the Basilica of Maxentius, the largest building in the Roman Forum — as well as some of Rome’s prized Renaissance palaces, churches and the Vatican.

The next stop along the line is Piazza Venezia, the veritable heart of Rome's center. Subway cars will arrive at a depth of 48 meters (157 feet) when it opens in 2033, Cervone said.

Once completed, Line C will run a total of 29 kilometers (18 miles), of which 20 kilometers (12 miles) will be underground, and carry up to 800,000 passengers daily.

Tourists planning to visit the Colosseum and other sites in Rome’s historic center will be able to bypass the eternal city’s notoriously snarled surface traffic — made even worse in recent years by the construction projects themselves.

That's because Connecticut — the location for at least 22 holiday films by Hallmark, Lifetime and others — is promoting tours of the quaint Christmas-card cities and towns featured in this booming movie market; places where a busy corporate lawyer can return home for the holidays and cross paths with a plaid shirt-clad former high school flame who now runs a Christmas tree farm. (Spoiler alert: they live happily ever after.)

“It’s exciting — just to know that something was in a movie and we actually get to see it visually,” said Abby Rumfelt of Morganton, North Carolina, after stepping off a coach bus in Wethersfield, Connecticut, at one of the stops on the holiday movie tour.

Rumfelt was among 53 people, mostly women, on a recent weeklong "Hallmark Movie Christmas Tour," organized by Mayfield Tours from Spartanburg, South Carolina. On the bus, fans watched the matching movies as they rode from stop to stop.

To plan the tour, co-owner Debbie Mayfield used the “ Connecticut Christmas Movie Trail ” map, which was launched by the wintry New England state last year to cash in on the growing Christmas-movie craze.

Mayfield, who co-owns the company with her husband, Ken, said this was their first Christmas tour to holiday movie locations in Connecticut and other Northeastern states. It included hotel accommodations, some meals, tickets and even a stop to see the Rockettes in New York City. It sold out in two weeks.

With snow flurries in the air and Christmas songs piped from a speaker, the group stopped for lunch at Heirloom Market at Comstock Ferre, where parts of the Hallmark films “Christmas on Honeysuckle Lane" and “Rediscovering Christmas" were filmed.

Once home to America’s oldest seed company, the store is located in a historic district known for its stately 1700s and 1800s buildings. It's an ideal setting for a holiday movie. Even the local country store has sold T-shirts featuring Hallmark’s crown logo and the phrase “I Live in a Christmas Movie. Wethersfield, CT 06109."

“People just know about us now,” said Julia Koulouris, who co-owns the market with her husband, Spiros, crediting the movie trail in part. “And you see these things on Instagram and stuff where people are tagging it and posting it.”

The concept of holiday movies dates back to 1940s, when Hollywood produced classics like “It's A Wonderful Life," “Miracle on 34th Street” and “Christmas in Connecticut,” which was actually shot at the Warner Bros. studios in Burbank, California.

In 2006, five years after the launch of the Hallmark Channel on TV, Hallmark “struck gold” with the romance movie “The Christmas card,” said Joanna Wilson, author of the book “Tis the Season TV: The Encyclopedia of Christmas-Themed Episodes, Specials and Made-for-TV Movies.”

“Hallmark saw those high ratings and then started creating that format and that formula with the tropes and it now has become their dominant formula that they create for their Christmas TV romances,” she said.

The holiday movie industry, estimated to generate hundreds of millions of dollars a year, has expanded beyond Hallmark and Lifetime. Today, a mix of cable and broadcast networks, streaming platforms, and direct-to-video producers release roughly 100 new films annually, Wilson said. The genre has also diversified, with characters from a wider range of racial and ethnic backgrounds as well as LGBTQ+ storylines.

The formula, however, remains the same. And fans still have an appetite for a G-rated love story.

“They want to see people coming together. They want to see these romances. It’s a part of the hope of the season,” she said. “Who doesn’t love love? And it always has a predictable, happy ending.”

Hazel Duncan, 83, of Forest City, North Carolina, said she and her husband of 65 years, Owen, like to watch the movies together year-round because they're sweet and family-friendly. They also take her back to their early years as a young couple, when life felt simpler.

“We hold hands sometimes,” she said. “It's kind of sweet. We've got two recliners back in a bedroom that's real small and we've got the TV there. And we close the doors off and it's just our time together in the evening.”

Connecticut's chief marketing officer, Anthony M. Anthony, said the Christmas Movie Trail is part of a multipronged rebranding effort launched in 2023 that promotes the state not just as a tourist destination, but also as a place to work and live.

“So what better way to highlight our communities as a place to call home than them being sets of movies?” he said.

However, there continues to be debate at the state Capitol over whether to eliminate or cap film industry tax credits — which could threaten how many more of these movies will be made locally.

Christina Nieves and her husband of 30 years, Raul, already live in Connecticut and have been tackling the trail “little by little."

It's been a chance, she said, to explore new places in the state, like the Bushnell Park Carousel in Hartford, where a scene from “Ghost of Christmas Always” was filmed.

It also inspired Nieves to convince her husband — not quite the movie fan she is — to join her at a tree-lighting and Christmas parade in their hometown of Windsor Locks.

“I said, listen, let me just milk this Hallmark thing as long as I can, OK?” she said.

While Sydney’s Oxford Street and Melbourne’s Collingwood tend to dominate LGBTQIA+ travel lists, Lismore rarely appears on glossy itineraries. Yet for decades, it has been a hub for queer people seeking a slower, more alternative lifestyle in the Northern Rivers region – and in recent years, that history of activism and mutual support has helped shape a uniquely welcoming environment for LGBTQIA+ residents and visitors.

Lismore sits on Bundjalung Country, about 45 minutes’ drive inland from Byron Bay and roughly three hours’ drive south of Brisbane, positioning it at the heart of one of Australia’s most culturally diverse regional areas. Since the 1970s, the wider Northern Rivers has attracted people interested in counterculture, environmentalism and alternative living; LGBTQIA+ people were among those who settled here, contributing to the area’s reputation for progressive politics and community organising.

That history is visible in the city’s queer infrastructure. Tropical Fruits, a not-for-profit LGBTQIA+ social club based in Lismore, has been running parties, community events and an annual New Year’s Eve festival since the late 1980s. The organisation describes itself as a “safe, social environment for the diverse genders and sexualities of the Northern Rivers,” and it owns a dedicated clubhouse and warehouse space that hosts workshops, working bees and smaller gatherings year-round.

For queer travelers, Tropical Fruits’ New Year’s Eve festival has grown into a major regional pilgrimage: thousands of LGBTQIA+ people from across Australia travel to Lismore for several days of parties, cabaret, camping and community-focused events over the New Year period. The festival’s themes often centre on queer pride, futurism and social justice, and organisers regularly highlight inclusion for transgender people, First Nations LGBTQIA+ communities and people with disability in their program and accessibility planning.

Outside of New Year’s Eve, Tropical Fruits has developed a reputation for maintaining sober-friendly spaces, inclusive dress codes and explicit zero-tolerance policies on racism, transphobia, homophobia and harassment – conditions that can be especially significant for LGBTQIA+ travelers who may feel less comfortable in mainstream nightlife environments.

Unlike coastal tourist hotspots where LGBTQIA+ visibility can feel seasonal, Lismore’s queer presence is part of the city’s everyday fabric. In 2013, local residents painted a rainbow crossing in the town centre as a statement of support for LGBTQIA+ people; although it was later removed on safety grounds, the controversy prompted Lismore City Council to formalise processes for public art and consider ways of celebrating diversity more visibly.

The city has also hosted Rainbow Region Dragon Boat Club, a team founded with a focus on LGBTQIA+ inclusion that competes in regional sporting events and explicitly welcomes transgender women and non-binary people. Local health initiatives such as ACON Northern Rivers maintain a presence in Lismore, offering sexual health services, HIV prevention, counselling and community development programs tailored to LGBTQIA+ communities across the region.

This day-to-day infrastructure means that queer visitors are not just parachuting into an annual festival; they are stepping into a regional city where local cafes, bookshops and markets are accustomed to LGBTQIA+ customers and rainbow families. Several small businesses proudly display rainbow stickers or “Safe Space” signs in their windows, signifying support for LGBTQIA+ inclusion.

Lismore’s compact city centre makes it easy for visitors to explore on foot. Older brick buildings and arcades house art galleries, op shops, tattoo studios and vegetarian cafes that reflect the area’s alternative leanings. Many venues host small-scale live music, zine launches and poetry readings that attract a mixed crowd of students, artists and queer locals.

The Lismore Regional Gallery, one of the longest-running galleries in regional New South Wales, has a history of showing work by LGBTQIA+ artists and curating exhibitions that foreground gender diversity and queer perspectives. Past programs have included collaborations with the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras visual arts platform and screenings of films exploring regional queer life.

Across town, the weekly Lismore Farmers Market showcases local produce, much of it organic and grown on small farms in surrounding valleys – a scene where queer stallholders and customers mingle among buskers, herbalists and coffee carts. For many visitors, this casual, integrated environment – rather than exclusively LGBTQIA+ venues – is part of the appeal.

Lismore’s emerging status as a queer-friendly base cannot be separated from its recent history of crisis and repair. In early 2022, catastrophic flooding devastated the city, with water levels in the central business district reaching record heights and thousands of residents displaced. Among those affected were LGBTQIA+ people and community organisations, including Tropical Fruits, whose clubhouse and storage facilities were damaged.

In response, LGBTQIA+ networks mobilised quickly. Tropical Fruits launched fundraising appeals and working bees to repair its clubhouse, supported by donations and volunteer labour from across Australia’s queer communities. National organisations such as Equality Australia used their platforms to highlight the specific vulnerabilities of LGBTQIA+ people in disaster-affected regional areas, including housing insecurity and access to inclusive services.

Local media documented how queer residents played leading roles in mutual aid efforts, helping to coordinate food deliveries, temporary accommodation and mental health support for those affected by the floods. This response reinforced an existing culture of solidarity and helped ensure that LGBTQIA+ people remained part of the city’s long-term recovery planning, rather than being treated as an afterthought.

For LGBTQIA+ travelers, this story of resilience can be an important part of choosing where to spend time and money: visiting Lismore now often means supporting queer-led reconstruction efforts by staying in local guesthouses, buying from small businesses and attending community events that are helping the city rebuild.

Travelers arriving from Sydney or Brisbane often remark on the immediacy of Lismore’s community life. Queer-friendly spaces are less about big, dedicated nightlife districts and more about overlapping networks: activists who also run cafes, drag performers who work in local health services, or farmers who DJ for Tropical Fruits parties.

Several factors contribute to a sense of welcome:

- A long-established LGBTQIA+ presence, visible through Tropical Fruits, health services and activism, means queer travelers are not treated as novelties or “just tourists.”

- Regional demographics skew towards artists, students and people involved in social movements, many of whom explicitly support gender and sexual diversity.

- Public discussions about inclusion – from the rainbow crossing debates to council diversity policies – have made LGBTQIA+ visibility part of mainstream civic life.

- Local Indigenous organisations, including Bundjalung cultural groups, have participated in Tropical Fruits events and broader pride activities, acknowledging the role of Sistergirl and Brotherboy communities and intersecting identities.

This creates an environment where transgender people, non-binary people, intersex people and queer people of colour can find more than tokenistic “rainbow branding.” Instead, many report feeling that their identities are broadly recognised within the spectrum of difference that already defines the city’s social fabric.

For visitors, Lismore also functions as a practical and culturally rich base for exploring the wider Northern Rivers, including Nimbin, the lush hinterland and coastal towns like Ballina and Lennox Head. While Byron Bay is the best-known coastal destination, Lismore’s inland location offers access to national parks, waterfalls and small villages without the same level of tourist crowds or accommodation costs.

The city’s bus connections and car rental options make it feasible to combine a stay in Lismore with day trips to beaches, rainforest walks and neighbouring markets – returning each evening to a town where rainbow flags and queer events are visible.

Despite its long queer history, Lismore remains largely absent from international LGBTQIA+ travel guides, which tend to focus on larger cities like Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane, or on Daylesford as a rural getaway. Some domestic travel features have highlighted Tropical Fruits as a notable regional pride event but stop short of positioning Lismore itself as a year-round queer-friendly destination.

That is slowly changing. Tourism bodies have begun to reference Lismore and the Northern Rivers as part of broader campaigns promoting inclusive travel in New South Wales, pointing to the region’s arts festivals, food culture and alternative communities. Social media content from Australian LGBTQIA+ travelers increasingly features Lismore’s street art, flood recovery murals and Tropical Fruits events, often framing the city as an authentic, community-oriented alternative to more commercial coastal scenes.

For now, this relative lack of mainstream visibility is part of Lismore’s appeal for some queer travelers. It offers a chance to experience queer life that is integrated into a regional Australian city – to attend a drag show in a local hall, shop at an op shop fundraiser run by a community group, or join a riverside vigil marking Transgender Day of Remembrance – without feeling like you are passing through a curated “rainbow precinct.”

For LGBTQIA+ visitors, engaging meaningfully with Lismore’s communities can mean seeking out local-led events and being attentive to the city’s post-flood realities. Many venues are still in various stages of repair, and some residents remain displaced or economically affected. Choosing queer-owned or queer-supportive accommodation, buying from markets and small shops, and donating to community organisations like Tropical Fruits or local Aboriginal-controlled services are tangible ways to contribute to a city that has welcomed many LGBTQIA+ people over the years.

It is also important to recognise that Lismore sits on unceded Bundjalung land. Many local events now open with Acknowledgements of Country, and some Tropical Fruits programs have included First Nations-focused panels and performances. Queer travelers can deepen their experience by engaging with Indigenous-run tours, arts spaces and cultural projects that highlight intersections between queerness, Country and decolonisation.

Lismore does not offer the density of LGBTQIA+ venues that you find in bigger cities, nor is it a resort town with luxury rainbow packages. What it does offer is something quieter but arguably more enduring: a community where queer life has helped shape the character of a regional city, and where pride is expressed through mutual aid, local art and everyday visibility as much as through parade floats.

For queer travelers seeking an emerging, culturally rich destination outside Australia’s usual circuits – a place where a New Year’s Eve party in a showground shed can feel as momentous as a capital-city parade, and where rainbow flags fly alongside flood-recovery posters and climate action banners – Lismore is increasingly hard to overlook.

As interest grows, destinations also hop on board and adapt to meet the demand as people trade human knowledge for AI-planned travel. Artificial intelligence has steadily moved from a behind-the-scenes tool to a central companion for modern travelers.

AI reshapes the traveler experience

Once used mainly for basic customer-service chatbots, artificial intelligence now anticipates traveler needs, personalizes recommendations and streamlines planning in ways that were previously impossible. Increasingly, travelers rely on AI not just for convenience but for reassurance that their trips will run smoothly from start to finish.

Younger generations, accustomed to instant digital solutions, drive this shift as they turn to AI platforms for itinerary building, budget tracking and real-time destination insights. In fact, a growing majority of millennial and Gen Z travelers say they trust AI-generated trip suggestions as much as, or more than, traditional travel agents.

By removing guesswork and reducing the time spent on logistics, AI empowers travelers to focus more on the experiences themselves. The rising demand pushes travel companies to redesign their services around predictive technology, offering journeys that adapt to user preferences, respond to real-time disruptions and deliver a more personalized sense of control.

Travelers bet everything on AI to cut costs

One of the upsides to using AI is saving money. As the economy tightens, travelers opt to cut costs without canceling the trip. Intelligent platforms can scan flights, hotels and rental options to find the best deals. By analyzing pricing trends and predicting when rates will drop, AI tools can alert users to the optimal time to book, helping them save hundreds of dollars without spending hours hunting for bargains.

AI doesn't just help with headline prices; it also uncovers hidden fees. From recommending hotels with free amenities like breakfast or shuttles to flagging airlines with lower baggage fees, AI helps travelers avoid unexpected expenses that can quietly inflate a trip's cost.

Even the most casual travelers are exploring AI, using it to hunt for itineraries. The result is smarter, more efficient travel planning that gives users more experiences for less money.

Tourism boards jump on the rise of AI

For well over a century, Mammoth Lakes has been a top California tourism destination. Travelers planning a trip to Mammoth can now rely on Sierra, an AI travel genius that provides instant answers to any travel or tourism questions about the area. The tool gives custom travel tips and itineraries in 50 languages, and leans into the history, culture and community of Mammoth Lakes. Exploring the rugged terrain starts at your fingertips.

Tourism New Zealand uniquely leverages AI, becoming the first playable destination to integrate with the Minecraft universe. A full New Zealand now exists in Minecraft, and users can seek answers to their New Zealand travel questions through the game.

Tourism New Zealand reports a significant impact since the integration. Over 200,000 unique visitors have leveraged the tool. The use of AI is clearly a key for tourism markets.

The future of global tourism in an AI-powered world

Clearly, AI is set to transform global tourism, and 2026 marks a major shift as we see more tourism boards joining in. Future AI tools could design entire trips, optimize itineraries in real time and suggest eco-friendly routes or accommodations, helping travelers reduce costs and environmental impact. That's only on the traveler's side. In the transportation industry, it assists travelers in moving more efficiently.

However, reliance on AI raises concerns: privacy issues, fewer opportunities for human connection and potential shifts in tourism jobs. Striking the right balance between human involvement with machine intelligence will be key to this new frontier of AI for travel.

Embrace the future of smarter travel

As AI continues to evolve, it's clear that the way we plan, book and experience travel will never be the same. The possibilities are only beginning to emerge. While challenges like privacy concerns, accuracy and shifts in traditional travel jobs remain, the benefits of AI for travel point to a future where exploring the world is easier, more accessible and more exciting than ever.

Kimberly Stroh is an Atlanta-based family travel writer and the founder of Savvy Mama Lifestyle. Since 2015, she has been sharing expert travel tips, destination guides and parenting insights tailored for modern families.

Newcastle’s transformation is not accidental. Over the past decade, investment in the arts, hospitality, and public spaces has coincided with a visible growth in LGBTQIA+ community life, from regular drag nights and inclusive sports clubs to an annual pride festival that now draws visitors from across New South Wales. Unlike Sydney’s tightly defined “gaybourhoods”, Newcastle’s queer culture is woven into its everyday streets: small venues, beachside gatherings, and community-led events that make the city feel welcoming rather than overwhelming.

For much of the 20th century, Newcastle was known primarily as a steel and coal town, dominated by the BHP steelworks and one of the world’s largest coal-exporting ports. When the steelworks closed in 1999, the city entered a period of economic and cultural reinvention that opened space for new creative and social communities, including LGBTQIA+ people, to reshape its identity.

Today, visitors arrive to find a compact CBD whose heritage buildings house independent galleries, creative studios, and bars, many of which explicitly promote inclusive values. Newcastle Museum highlights the city’s industrial and maritime history, while nearby streets like Hunter Street and Darby Street feature public art, cafes, and shops that contribute to a more progressive and youth-driven atmosphere.

Tourism and official visitor guides describe Newcastle as relaxed, friendly, and increasingly attractive to artists, students, and young professionals, demographics that research has shown often correlate with more visible and accepted LGBTQIA+ communities in Australian urban areas. While these reports rarely single out queer people explicitly, they document social changes—such as support for diversity and growth in creative industries—that correspond with the inclusive culture many LGBTQIA+ visitors encounter on the ground.

Newcastle now hosts a dedicated pride festival, Newcastle Pride, founded in 2018 as a not-for-profit organization to celebrate LGBTQIA+ communities in the Hunter region. The festival program has included a Fair Day, parties, drag performances, and community events across multiple venues. In 2019, Newcastle Pride partnered with the City of Newcastle to stage events in civic spaces, signaling growing institutional support.

Beyond the main festival, local venues regularly host LGBTQIA+-focused nights. The Hamilton and Islington precincts, known for pubs and live music, have seen drag shows and queer-focused events programmed throughout the year. Community organizers and performers from the Hunter region have also collaborated with Tropical Fruits, the long-running LGBTQIA+ social group based in nearby Lismore, which is known nationally for its New Year’s Eve parties and regional queer gatherings.

According to Tourism Australia’s LGBTQIA+ travel guidance, regional hubs such as Newcastle are part of a broader pattern in which Australian towns outside the major capitals are building their own pride events and queer spaces, supported by anti-discrimination laws and a generally welcoming legal framework for LGBTQIA+ people. New South Wales law prohibits discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity in areas such as employment, education, and provision of goods and services, protections that apply equally in Newcastle as in Sydney.

The city’s beaches and ocean baths form a major part of its appeal. Newcastle Ocean Baths and the Art Deco-style Merewether Ocean Baths are widely featured in tourism materials as iconic places to swim and socialise year-round. While official guides do not designate specific “gay beaches”, LGBTQIA+ locals and visitors use these public spaces alongside everyone else, benefiting from a casual coastal culture where same-sex couples and gender-diverse people can generally enjoy the water and promenades without drawing undue attention.

Newcastle’s arts scene is a key part of what makes it feel culturally rich for LGBTQIA+ travelers. The Lock-Up, a contemporary art space housed in a former police station and jail, is known for hosting exhibitions and events that explore social justice, identity, and experimental practice. Its programs have included works by queer and gender-diverse artists, aligning with a broader commitment in Australian contemporary art to platform marginalized voices.

The nearby Newcastle Art Gallery, one of Australia’s leading regional galleries, houses a collection of modern and contemporary Australian art, including works that engage with sexuality, gender, and social change. While the gallery’s cataloguing does not sort works by artists’ sexual orientation or gender identity, curatorial texts and exhibitions have addressed LGBTQIA+ subject matter as part of Australian cultural history, which offers queer visitors a point of connection.

Nightlife for queer visitors is less about a single “gay bar” and more about an ecosystem of inclusive venues. Small bars and live music spaces in the city centre and along Hunter Street often display rainbow symbols and host drag, cabaret, and themed dance nights. This dispersed model echoes Tourism Australia’s observation that outside the biggest capitals, LGBTQIA+ social life in Australia is often integrated into broader community spaces rather than confined to standalone venues.

Sport is another surprisingly important element of Newcastle’s queer-friendly environment. The city has a strong sporting culture, particularly around rugby league and surfing. Across Australia, LGBTQIA+ inclusion in sport has been a public focus, with organizations such as Pride in Sport working with clubs nationally to improve participation and visibility for LGBTQIA+ people. Local clubs in the Hunter region have taken part in national inclusion initiatives, such as rainbow rounds and policies against homophobia and transphobia, which contribute to a safer environment for LGBTQIA+ players and fans.

For travelers who enjoy connecting through movement, Newcastle’s cycleways and coastal walks, including the Bathers Way, provide accessible outdoor activities that are popular among both locals and visitors. Public health and tourism material notes that these shared spaces can foster social interaction and community building, which many LGBTQIA+ travelers value when exploring new cities.

Any queer-focused exploration of Newcastle is also an opportunity to engage with the city’s deeper cultural layers. The area is the traditional Country of the Awabakal and Worimi peoples, whose connection to land, water, and sky is central to local identity. Aboriginal cultural tours and interpretive signage around the coastline and Blackbutt Reserve introduce visitors to stories of creation, navigation, and resilience that predate colonial industry and contemporary tourism.

Across Australia, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities include diverse understandings of gender and sexuality, including sistergirl and brotherboy identities among some Torres Strait Islander and Aboriginal peoples, although these specific identities are more commonly documented in northern and central regions rather than in Newcastle itself. National LGBTQIA+ Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander organizations, such as Black Rainbow , highlight the importance of culturally safe spaces for First Nations LGBTQIA+ people and advocate for intersectional inclusion in cities across the country.

While Newcastle’s tourism materials focus primarily on broader reconciliation initiatives and cultural heritage, the presence of First Nations-led arts and community programs contributes to a more nuanced understanding of inclusion, one that queer travelers can seek out by attending exhibitions, performances, or community events led by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people.

For international visitors familiar with Sydney’s Mardi Gras or Melbourne’s Midsumma, Newcastle offers a different pace and scale. Tourism Australia notes that while major cities remain focal points for LGBTQIA+ travel, regional centers like Newcastle provide more relaxed environments where many visitors feel comfortable showing affection in public, accessing services, and engaging with local communities. This comfort is shaped by Australia’s nationwide legal recognition of marriage equality in 2017 and federal protections against discrimination based on sexual orientation, gender identity, and intersex status in key areas of public life.

Newcastle’s relative affordability compared to Sydney, combined with its beaches and university presence, has attracted students and creatives, including LGBTQIA+ people, from across New South Wales. The University of Newcastle promotes equity and diversity initiatives, including support services for LGBTQIA+ students and staff, which contributes to a visible youth queer culture in and around the city. Campus-based queer collectives and events often spill into city venues, reinforcing the sense that Newcastle is an emerging node in Australia’s broader rainbow map rather than a peripheral outpost.

National queer travel guides frequently highlight Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Canberra, Hobart, Adelaide, Perth, and specific regional destinations such as Daylesford and the Lismore region as LGBTQIA+ hotspots. Newcastle appears less often in these lists, despite having an established pride festival, inclusive arts institutions, and visible community activity documented by local government and community organizations. This gap between on-the-ground reality and destination marketing is precisely what makes Newcastle feel like a hidden gem: queer travelers can experience a living, evolving community rather than a fully commercialized scene.

For LGBTQIA+ visitors seeking a blend of coastal landscapes, contemporary Australian culture, and everyday queer life, Newcastle offers:

- Accessible transport: regular trains from Sydney and an airport with domestic connections.
- Walkable urban cores: a city centre and adjacent suburbs that can largely be explored on foot or by light rail.
- Inclusive events calendar: from Newcastle Pride to gallery openings, live music, and community markets where diversity is visible and welcomed.
- Legal and social protections for LGBTQIA+ people embedded in state and federal law, reinforcing a general expectation of respect and safety.

For queer travelers used to the intensity of major festivals, Newcastle’s appeal lies in slower rhythms: morning swims in historic ocean baths, afternoons spent with contemporary art and coffee, evenings listening to live music or watching drag in venues where regulars greet each other by name. It is a city still in the process of defining itself, which means LGBTQIA+ visitors are not just spectators but potential participants in an evolving, locally-rooted queer culture.

I flew to South Caicos after several days on Providenciales, and the shift wasn't subtle. That short hop feels more like crossing into a different version of the territory: the plane door opens onto wide salinas, low mangroves, fishing skiffs easing back toward the docks and donkeys wandering wherever they please. Instead of the hum of new development, the island's older bones hold most of the attention.

A smaller island that has set its limits

Only a small percentage of visitors travel past Providenciales, and South Caicos reflects that choice. The airport is a single, utilitarian building where luggage is rolled out beside the runway, and the drive to the resort moves through open land and quiet roads. On my arrival, a cluster of donkeys stood squarely across the road, slowing cars in a way no traffic ever does.

Salterra is the island's lone full-service resort, but it doesn't dominate the coastline. Its low buildings spread along the shore rather than rising above it, and the layout gives more room to the water and wind than to amenities. Afternoon activity follows the fishing fleet, which returns with conch and lobster, not a beach club's schedule.

Island and water

Beyond the docks, the coastline stretches for long, unbroken distances where you're more likely to share the water with eagle rays, turtles or small sharks than with other snorkelers. Kiteboarders come for the strong, steady wind and the wide, shallow bays, and the calm surface makes it easier for beginners to learn. Much of the shore forms around rock shelves instead of manicured sand, leaving the landscape sharper, quieter and more natural than what most visitors associate with Turks and Caicos.

What travelers find here

Many people come for that sense of space. Suites at Salterra open toward a coastline that stays mostly empty, and nights fall dark enough to show the Milky Way when the weather cooperates. Residents I spoke with said they want tourism to remain measured. South Caicos has watched other islands scale up quickly, and the preference here is to grow slowly and keep development low to preserve the island's character. The resort's footprint reflects that mindset with added jobs but limited buildup.

Most visitors split their time between the water and exploring the island. The inland salinas create long, open paths that let you wander without crossing crowds, and the stillness gives the island a different kind of appeal than its larger neighbors.

Reaching South Caicos

Getting to South Caicos still requires a short inter-island flight from Providenciales, and accommodations remain limited by design. Salterra serves as the central base for overnight visitors, a scale that helps the island avoid the crowding common in busier parts of the Caribbean.

South Caicos continues to change, but at a slow and intentional pace. Its coastline is still wide open, its roads stay quiet and the island remains one of the few places in Turks and Caicos where daily life outweighs tourism. For now, that balance holds, and it's what gives the island its appeal.

Mandy is a luxury travel, fine dining and bucket-list-adventure journalist with expert insight from 46 countries. She uncovers unforgettable experiences around the world and brings them to life through immersive storytelling that blends indulgence, culture and discovery, and shares it all with a global audience as co-founder of Food Drink Life. Her articles appear on MSN and through the Associated Press wire in major U.S. outlets, including NBC, the Daily News, Boston Herald, the Chicago Sun-Times and many more.