All-Inclusive Isn’t All That
The Secret Costs of Free Holidays and Wristbands of Doom
All-inclusive holidays sound like the dream. Unlimited food. Free booze. Sun. Sea. No decisions to make except which cocktail to pretend you like today.
But let’s be honest. By day three you’re 80 percent chips, you’ve heard the same sax remix of Despacito on loop, and you’ve realised that “premium drinks” means local vodka that smells like petrol and regret.
Let’s break it down. Here’s what they don’t tell you about going all in.
The Buffet Will Betray You
At first you’re buzzing. There’s piles of food. Actual piles. You feel like royalty with a plate stacked higher than your expectations.
By the second day you realise it’s all just different shades of beige. Chicken nuggets. Fried fish. Pasta that tastes like soggy cardboard. And that mysterious “meat option” that looks like it might fight back if you poke it.
No matter how big the buffet is it’s still just variations of the same thing reheated in sorrow. And that one guy who uses his fingers to grab a bread roll should be banned from travel forever.
The Drinks Are Free But Your Dignity Isn’t
There’s nothing quite like drinking cocktails made with mystery rum at 11am while wearing a straw hat and a sunburn.
But you’ll quickly learn that the free drinks have a hidden cost. The cocktails are basically syrup and regret. The beer tastes like it’s been filtered through a flip-flop. And if you ask for a proper drink without the slush machine involved someone behind the bar will visibly hate you.
You’ll also witness some bloke from Birmingham do 14 shots of “house tequila” and start freestyle rapping by the pool. And you’ll still be thinking about it in five years.
The Entertainment is... Something
Every all-inclusive resort has that one poor soul who introduces themselves like
“Hi I’m Marco and I’ll be your entertainment guy this week”
And you know Marco is just trying to pay rent but he’s about to drag you into Aqua Zumba against your will.
Expect talent shows featuring 9-year-olds flossing to Pitbull, quiz nights run by someone who learned English from Love Island reruns, and a live performance of Grease that’ll make you question every decision you’ve ever made.
By the end of the week you’ll know the entertainers better than your own cousins.
The “Free” Stuff Isn’t Really Free
Want to use the spa? That’s extra. Want the good cocktails? That’s premium. Fancy dinner at the nice restaurant? That’s not included unless you win a game of bingo and make a blood sacrifice.
All-inclusive basically means "you get what we give you unless you want something decent, then cough up"
You’re wearing that wristband like it’s a golden ticket but in reality it’s just a sign that says
"I’m not spending any more money please give me the sad pizza"
You Will Still Spend Money
You think you’ll just roll up with €20 for souvenirs and that’ll do. But then you see the excursion board. Jet skis. Boat trips. Waterfalls. Suddenly your all-inclusive trip is costing more than a private villa with Gordon Ramsay as your chef.
And you have to pay for bottled water because apparently hydration is a luxury now.
You Might Actually Miss Leaving the Hotel
After six days of eating chips by the same pool you start to lose touch with reality. You could be anywhere. Spain? Turkey? The moon? You wouldn’t know. You haven’t seen a local shop or touched a real pavement since you landed.
All-inclusive can start to feel like a weird sun-soaked simulation where you’re trapped in a loop of lukewarm chips and forced volleyball.
Sometimes the real adventure starts when you leave the compound and find a beach bar with no wristbands and actual flavour in the food.
Final Words from Mr Jones
Don’t get me wrong. All-inclusive has its place. If you’ve got kids or you just want to sleep, snack and sip for a week, it can be heaven.
But don’t believe the hype. Free doesn’t always mean freedom. Sometimes it means “here’s the same slice of overcooked lasagne for the fourth night in a row, good luck”
So if you do go all in, just do it with your eyes open. And maybe pack some emergency snacks. And a bottle of proper gin in your suitcase. Trust me.