When people think about memorable travel experiences, they usually think about places. The beach with perfect water. The mountain with the incredible view. The city full of history. The national park that leaves you speechless.

We love those things too.

But the longer we travel, the more we’ve come to believe that the places are only part of the story. What often matters even more are the people. Some of our favorite travel memories have very little to do with a destination and almost everything to do with who we experienced it with.

Costa Rica Was About More Than Costa Rica

Our trip to Costa Rica began with two families we’ve known for a very long time. Jesse grew up with two of them. We’ve been friends for decades. Now our kids are roughly the same ages, and we’ve been fortunate enough to travel together several times over the years.

Costa Rica was amazing. We ziplined through the rainforest, rappelled down waterfalls, whitewater rafted, explored the jungle at night, and saw monkeys, sloths, toucans, macaws, snakes, and more.

But when I think back on those twelve days, that’s not the first thing I remember. I remember kids playing at the beach, games by the pool, evenings filled with laughter, conversations after dinner, and seeing friendships deepen. The activities were wonderful, but they were really just the backdrop. The people were what made the experience special.

Lake Atitlán Changed Our Perspective

A few weeks later, we found ourselves at a worldschooling hub on Lake Atitlán in Guatemala. The scenery was spectacular. Volcanoes surrounded the lake, and every sunrise felt like a postcard.

But once again, the most meaningful part wasn’t the landscape.

It was the community.

The hub itself was run by a family who had lived in Guatemala for years and had built deep connections within the local community. Those relationships opened doors that we never could have accessed on our own.

We spent time with local families. We cooked with abuelas. We learned about Mayan culture, music, language, weaving, and traditions. We visited local schools and shared meals together.

But the experience wasn’t just about connecting with local families.

There were also two other visiting families participating in the hub alongside us. Between activities, we played games together, shared meals, swapped stories, and talked about everything from parenting to travel to education. While we all came from different backgrounds, there was something about sharing such an immersive experience that helped us bond quickly. By the end of the nine days, it felt like we had known everyone much longer than we actually had.

The connections transformed our experience. Instead of simply observing Guatemala from the outside, we felt invited into it. That invitation created a level of understanding that sightseeing alone never could.

In fact, one of the clearest signs of how much the experience meant to us is that we’ve stayed in touch with the family that hosts the hub and fully expect that we’ll return someday. Some places are beautiful enough that you want to visit again. Others are meaningful enough that you want to reconnect with the people you met there.

Lake Atitlán became that kind of place for us.

Even Ecuador Was Better With People

Ecuador was probably the most challenging stop on our trip. It was hot. There was no air conditioning. We dealt with language barriers, boredom, and eventually what we believe was dengue fever.

Yet when I think back on that month, one of the things I remember most fondly is another family staying at the same hostel. Their kids were close in age to ours, and having that connection changed everything. The beach became more fun. The downtime became easier. The ordinary days became richer.

It’s funny how often community works that way. It doesn’t necessarily change where you are, but it changes how you experience where you are.

Why Kids Need Other Kids

One thing we’ve noticed repeatedly is how much our children benefit from being around other kids. Not organized activities. Not carefully designed programs. Just other kids.

Given enough time and a little freedom, kids seem remarkably capable of creating their own adventures. We’ve watched them invent games, start businesses, learn sports, solve conflicts, create art, and build friendships with children from completely different backgrounds. Sometimes they don’t even share a common language.

And somehow they still figure it out.

As parents, it’s easy to focus on the destinations we want our kids to see. Increasingly, we’ve come to appreciate the importance of the people we want them to meet.

Why Adults Need Community Too

The same thing is true for adults.

Travel can sometimes feel isolating. You’re constantly moving through unfamiliar places. You leave just as you’re starting to feel comfortable. You build connections and then move on.

Community changes that.

Some of our most meaningful travel memories aren’t tied to famous attractions at all. They’re tied to conversations. Talking about parenting. Talking about education. Talking about finances. Talking about favorite places in the world. Talking about what matters most.

Those conversations have happened around campfires, around dinner tables, beside pools, on beaches, and during long walks. They’ve become some of the richest parts of our travels.

Places Matter. People Matter More

We’re still excited to visit new places. We still love beautiful landscapes, interesting cultures, and incredible wildlife.

But over time we’ve realized something surprising.

If you gave us a choice between an amazing place with no meaningful connections or a good place filled with people we genuinely enjoy spending time with, we’d choose the people almost every time.

The destination still matters. But the people are what bring it to life. That’s one of the biggest lessons travel has taught our family.

The places are what get us there.

The people are what make us want to come back.

There’s a moment from our winter trip to Yellowstone National Park that keeps coming back to me.

We had just come in from a long day outside — cheeks cold, legs tired, kids hungry in that deep, satisfying way that only comes from hours in the winter air. Inside the lodge it was warm and glowing. The fire was crackling. My parents were already settled into chairs with their books. We pulled out cards. We started trading stories about our days.

And I remember thinking: this is exactly why we wanted to travel together.

Not because we were doing the same things every hour.

But because we were sharing the experience.

Different abilities, different days

Traveling with grandparents — especially in a place like winter Yellowstone — means acknowledging something honestly:

We were not all going to experience the park the same way.

My parents (Grammy and Papa) aren’t as physically active as we are. Long cross-country ski days in sub-zero temperatures weren’t realistic for them. And that was okay.

They spent one full day on a snow coach tour through the park. It was a lot of sitting — something that would have been hard for us — but they loved it. They saw huge stretches of Yellowstone in comfort, learned from a guide, and experienced places they might not otherwise have reached.

Meanwhile, we took a skier shuttle out from the lodge and spent hours skiing back through the park — breaking trail in some places, following packed routes in others, even skiing sections of the snow-covered road where traffic is minimal in winter.

It was physically demanding. And magical.

We saw geysers steaming in the cold air, silent forests, stretches where we felt completely alone in the wilderness.

Two completely different Yellowstone experiences.

Both perfect.

The kids surprised us

One of the biggest highlights for me was our kids.

We had assumed there would be times when they would want to stay back with Grammy and Papa while we went out on longer adventures. And honestly, we were prepared for that. Having grandparents along can create space for parents to do something a little more ambitious.

But again and again, the kids chose to come with us.

On one day we did nearly four hours of skiing. It wasn’t easy. There were moments of cold hands and “are we close yet?” — but those moments passed. Overall, they were incredible. Strong. Positive. Capable.

Watching your kids do hard things alongside you is always special.

Doing it in a place like Yellowstone makes it unforgettable.

Parallel adventures

What struck me most about the trip was how natural it felt to split up during the day.

There was no tension around it.

No sense that anyone was missing out.

My parents were genuinely happy relaxing at the lodge — reading, resting, watching Old Faithful erupt from the visitor center windows, enjoying the peaceful rhythm of the place.

In another season of their lives, they would have loved the long ski days too. But they were content with what fit them now.

And we were content doing what fit us.

Traveling together didn’t mean doing everything together.

Coming back together was the best part

The magic happened when we reconvened.

After our separate days, we would meet back at the lodge in the late afternoon or evening. We’d talk about what we saw. The kids would tell Grammy and Papa about the geysers and wildlife. My parents would share what they learned on their tours.

Then we’d settle into the cozy rhythm of lodge life:

Cards.
Books.
Hot drinks.
Firelight.
Simple conversations.

There’s something deeply wholesome about being in a place like that together — removed from normal routines, surrounded by snow and quiet, with nowhere else to be.

Those evenings are what I’ll remember most.

Kids and grandparents: something irreplaceable

Our kids spend a lot of time with us.

So whenever they’re with other adults — especially grandparents — there’s an extra layer of excitement. A novelty. A sense of being seen in a slightly different way.

But it’s more than novelty.

Grandparents are family history. Continuity. People who have known you your entire life.

Watching our kids laugh with my parents, share stories from the day — that’s a kind of richness that’s hard to create any other way.

These kinds of shared experiences across generations are a big part of why we believe travel is such a powerful form of learning for our kids.

There are few things better than seeing your children build memories with their grandparents.

Doing it somewhere wild and beautiful just amplifies it.

The quiet guilt — and letting it go

I’ll admit something I didn’t expect.

There were moments when I felt a little guilty leaving my parents at the lodge while we went out skiing.

Was it okay to go do our thing?

Should we be spending every minute together?

But they were completely clear: they wanted us to go. They were happy. They didn’t want us to limit our experience for them.

Letting go of that guilt was important.

It allowed everyone to have the trip they needed.

Slowing down in a good way

Having grandparents along did change the pace of the trip.

But not in the way people sometimes fear.

We still did our adventures.

We still pushed ourselves physically.

But we were also pulled into slower, more present moments — sitting by the fire, playing games, lingering longer in conversation.

In a way, traveling with them helped us live our own values more fully.

This kind of trip — with built-in rest, connection, and space to simply be together — is a big part of how we think about slow travel as a family.

Different adventures, shared memories

Looking back, what stands out most isn’t any single activity.

It’s the feeling of being there together.

We experienced Yellowstone differently during the days.

But at night, we were one family — sharing stories, laughter, and the simple comfort of being together in a special place.

And that’s what mattered most.

If you ever have the chance to travel with grandparents — even if your energy levels or interests aren’t identical — I can’t recommend it enough.

You don’t need to do everything together to create something meaningful together.

For us, trips like this reflect what we value most — connection, experiences, and time together — which is also how we think about being “frugal” as a traveling family.

This trip also reinforced something we believe deeply — that travel itself is one of the most powerful forms of education our kids can experience. We saw that especially clearly in Yellowstone, where the landscape became a living science classroom. I wrote more about that here: Learning From the Earth: Yellowstone as a Living Classroom in Winter.

Sometimes the best trips are exactly the ones where everyone finds their own adventure… and then comes back to share it.