The Ratliff family may have been horrified and dismayed when they were asked to surrender their cell phones in the latest season of The White Lotus, but in real life, disconnecting from the fire hose of daily life is exactly what many travelers are seeking. In an overwhelming and chaotic world, time off has become a chance to escape the noise. High-end resorts have responded with a range of “calmcation” packages and experiences to help guests unwind and avoid that dreaded feeling of returning home from a vacation with the sense that you still need one.
While yogis have long sought out silent meditation retreats, the sometimes bare-bones experiences have gotten a luxury upgrade. At Greydon House, a boutique hotel in Nantucket, guests can opt for the Silent Travel package, which includes curated books, art supplies (an easel, canvas, paints), and a journal complete with prompts. L’Auberge de Sedona in Arizona offers forest bathing backdropped by the famed red rocks; Bürgenstock Resort, perched above Switzerland’s Lake Lucerne, hosts outdoor yoga classes in the Alpine air; and Domes Zeen Chania resort in Crete has quiet zones.
At Majamaja retreat in Helsinki, you can rent a tiny off-the-grid cabin, while short-term rental startup Unplugged offers 50 digital detox cabins throughout the UK. Even notoriously crowded attractions like the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Walt Disney World offer quiet hours and quiet rooms, particularly for neurodivergent visitors.
Helsinki’s Majamaja offers off-grid cabins.
Others have interpreted the quiet travel trend literally. Norwegian cruise line Havila Voyages puts out daily noise reports, while the nonprofit Quiet Parks International certifies locations worldwide based on decibel levels (a certified quiet locale doesn’t exceed 45 decibels). At the InterContinental Maldives Maamunagau Resort, guests can sign up for the resort’s new Silent Immersion packages that include “hermit days,” with maximum privacy and limited staff interactions, and “digital detox days,” where visitors surrender their devices and spend the time that they would have wasted scrolling with a wellness mentor instead.
While the Eremito Hotel, which is set in a 14th-century monastery in Italy’s Umbrian Valley and exclusively for solo travelers, takes things perhaps to an extreme: the property is TV-free and internet-free, dinner is eaten at a communal table in silence, and the 21 minimalist rooms—once used by monks—are illuminated by candlelight.
Sunrise yoga at the InterContinental Maldives Maamunagau Resort.
This year, as my birthday approached, I decided to partake in the trend at the renowned wellness destination Sensei Lanai, one of two Four Seasons resorts on the smallest inhabited Hawaiian island. Two years ago, the resort launched a five-night, evidence-backed Rest and Reset program. “We have realized, especially over the last couple of years as travel has evolved, that time is the topmost luxury for our clientele,” says general manager Avi Phookan. “People who come here are very busy in their regular life, and when they get away, they would like to truly disconnect in this almost surreal world we have created.”
Because Sensei Lanai is known for its individualized programs, I wasn’t surprised to learn it appeals to solo travelers like me (along with a few physicians). “Ultimately you’re in control, and our guides meet you wherever you are,” Phookan explains of the personalized approach.
Sensei Lanai, a Four Seasons resort, offers a Rest and Reset program.
A few weeks before my departure, I had a phone call to go over what I hoped to accomplish during my stay, and the resort sent me a Whoop tracking band to begin recording my sleep quality and other biomarkers, like blood pressure and heart rate recovery. I’d always been scared to track my sleep, but I was pleasantly surprised to learn I sleep better, and longer, than I’d feared.
After I arrived at the Sensei Lanai and had a chance to explore the sprawling, lush grounds—dotted with lagoon pools, a ficus forest, and sculptures and artworks by Fernando Botero and Damien Hirst—I met with my “mindset guide,” brain researcher Jim Cahill, to determine my goals and conduct a health assessment, one of six one-on-one sessions offered as part of the program. Cahill broke down the three pillars of the Sensei Way—Move, Nourish, and Rest—and we devised an itinerary that included a restorative body wrap, a Gua Sha facial, and thermal mapping (which revealed where my body holds stress), followed by a targeted massage.
The lush grounds and lagoon pool at Sensei Lanai.
During a later session to explore my body’s stress response, Cahill clipped a pulse measuring device to my ear. He took a reading of my heart rate variability (HRV); in a graph of the results, my HRV, while normal, looked like a lightning bolt with sharp, jagged peaks. With the device still on my ear, Cahill then had me complete a deep breathing exercise—breathing in for four seconds and out for six—while he measured by HRV again. This time, the graph of my HRV was smooth, like ocean waves. I’ve never been too much of a “woo-woo” wellness person, but it was hard to ignore the hard data staring me in the face—just 60 seconds of deep breathing had had a noticeable calming effect on my whole body.
“Many folks are trying to go, go, go. We often hear things like, ‘I’m trying to find the Off switch for my brain,’” Cahill says. “Establishing a skill set to find and experience sustained rest was the reason for the program. We were hearing from the constant optimizers who say, ‘I’d like to be just as skilled in spinning down as I am at spinning up.’”
Sensei Lanai’s spa hales have Ofuro wooden soaking tubs, hot and cold pools, rain showers, infrared saunas, and steam rooms.
Throughout my stay, I completed sessions on sensory eating to aid my digestion at the scrumptious Sensei by Nobu (I’ve never thought more about the flavor and texture of my food); mindful movement (where I learned how to work out the tension my body stores); and a sleep session that analyzed my rest patterns using the data I’d been collecting via my Whoop. I also enjoyed the resort’s hales—1,000-square-foot spa cabins with private soaking tubs (including a gorgeous Ofuro wooden bath) and pools, an infrared sauna, and a steam room.
The lesson I took home was that when it comes to rest and relaxation, there’s no need to reinvent the wheel. Practicing good sleep hygiene—avoiding screens, going to bed and waking at a set time, and using deep breathing and visual meditation to calm the mind—is enough to make real, lasting change. Or, as Cahill says, help find the Off switch. “Essentially what you’re doing is exercising your nervous system’s ability to act like a brake on the go-go-go cardiovascular system,” he says.
A yoga and fitness studio at Sensei Lanai.
My “calmcation” at the Sensei Lanai has stayed with me in the months since. I’m still tracking my sleep and trying to stick to a nighttime routine, and I think more about how I support or strain my body each day. I’m even using my favorite spot at the resort as a visual meditation cue to help me nod off. Every night, I tuck myself in, close my eyes, and envision myself walking under the stars from my room into the Onsen Garden, a dense jungle area with 102-degree soaking pools. I wind my way up the path in solitude to my favorite pool (number 8), flip the sign from Vacant to Occupied, and by the time I’ve stepped one foot into the perfectly warm water, I’m usually fast asleep. It’s like the vacation version of Groundhog Day—one I am delighted to repeat in my mind, night after night.
A version of this story appears in the October 2025 issue of ELLE.
