A White Lotus Possible Itinerary
By Our Travel Correspondent
When HBO’s The White Lotus first opened its polished doors to the discontents of the über-rich, few could have predicted just how feverishly the series would burrow into the cultural psyche. Equal parts satirical soap and sun-drenched Greek tragedy, it exposed the grotesque glamour and slow-bubbling moral decay that thrives in the world's most rarified resorts. Now, somewhere between Instagram wanderlust and existential dread, we find ourselves asking: where might the next season unfurl?
A recent Instagram post—a mix of mockery, manifesting, and millennial travel anxiety—puts forth a shortlist so decadent, so White Lotus-ready, it could only have been conjured by a mind equal parts Sicilian dramatist and Pinterest board curator. “Mike White, bel ons,” it pleads in Dutch. "These resorts are made for the next White Lotus chaos. Too much luxury, too much drama, and just a bit too much champagne? Sounds perfect."
And so it does. Let’s take a closer look at this dreamlike parade of dysfunction-ready destinations.
AMANGIRI, United States
Utah’s most photogenic mirage, Amangiri is all brutalist serenity and desert monasticism—an aesthetic designed to make you reflect, or unravel. A place where influencers pose against the void and venture capitalists recover from tech-fueled spiritual crises. Perfect for a character who’s halfway through a digital detox and a full-blown identity breakdown.
CUIXMALA, Mexico
Once the private estate of a British billionaire with a tiger fetish (true story), Cuixmala is now an eco-palace for the wealthy who like their sustainability with a side of surrealism. Picture villas in the jungle, zebras grazing by the pool, and a spiritual advisor named Renata who may or may not be a con artist. Think ayahuasca meets Loro Piana.
BADRUTT'S PALACE, Switzerland
St. Moritz, darling. A snow globe of aristocratic excess where fur is forever in season, and the ghosts of old European money still ski in the dark. The palace itself is so opulent it makes Versailles look minimalist. Ideal for a cast of cold-eyed heiresses, decadent viscounts, and one mysterious ski instructor with secrets.
ROYAL MANSOUR, Morocco
Built by decree of the King, the Royal Mansour is not so much a hotel as an imperial fantasy rendered in tile, brass, and otherworldly discretion. The riads are private kingdoms. The butlers glide like specters. A season set here would write itself: sandstorms, seductions, and a garden party that ends with someone vanishing into the medina.
WALDORF ASTORIA, Maldives
Where else to explore the contradictions of barefoot luxury? The Waldorf Astoria in the Maldives floats like a mirage—private overwater villas, spa rituals named after celestial bodies, and more private chefs than you have cousins. A honeymoon gone wrong? A crypto scandal bubbling under the coral reef? Paradise, with rot just beneath the surface.
www.hilton.com/en/hotels/mleonwa-waldorf-astoria-maldives-ithaafushi/
ZANNIER SONOP, Namibia
A safari camp built for phantoms and philosophical crises. Zannier Sonop is where Edwardian nostalgia meets end-of-days fantasy. A remote canvas for breakdowns beneath the stars, desert horse rides into oblivion, and tense breakfast silences over French-pressed coffee in khaki.
ONE&ONLY MANDARINA, Mexico
Where the jungle meets the Pacific, and wellness meets hedonism. Think ancient trees, cliffside villas, and a "shamanic healing tent" where, inevitably, someone loses their grip on reality. Ideal for a tech mogul’s crumbling marriage or an all-female retreat gone deliciously wrong.
www.oneandonlyresorts.com/mandarina
CHEVAL BLANC COURCHEVEL, France
Chalet chic with a Louis Vuitton soul. Where the snow is powdered, the wine is ancient, and the secrets are as deep as the Alpine drifts. Expect luxury with a glacial edge—high fashion, low morals, and a sudden avalanche of truth.
www.chevalblanc.com/en/maison/courchevel/
SINGITA LEBOMBO LODGE, South Africa
Perched on a cliff in Kruger National Park, Singita Lebombo is safari reimagined—where zebras roam freely and the minibar is curated by sommeliers. It’s the perfect setting for a conservationist scandal, an intergenerational inheritance crisis, or just really expensive tears under the Milky Way.
singita.com/lodge/singita-lebombo-lodge/
CLUB BYMS, Undisclosed Location
And then, there’s the one that doesn’t appear on Google Maps.
Whispered about in cryptic footnotes of travel forums and referenced obliquely in the notes app of a burned-out creative director’s iPhone, Club BYMS is not a resort. It is an occurrence. A fever dream curated for the clandestine elite, where the waitlist is rumoured to include an exiled prince, a Nobel laureate with a gambling problem, and at least one fashion house creative who staged their own death (twice).
The location ? Maybe in the mountains above Guimarães, a moody coast with basalt cliffs that swallow signal and sense. You don’t book Club BYMS; Club BYMS selects you. The dress code? “Portuguese meets Japanese.” The amenities? Fun, but rumoured to include a floating sauna, a resident philosopher, and a library where no book was published after 1979.
There are no social media posts, no check-ins, no hashtags. But for those who’ve returned—and it’s said not all do—there’s a look in their eyes: somewhere between transcendent calm and the unshakeable knowledge that something happened there. Something that cannot be explained.
What happens at Club BYMS? That depends on who you ask. Some say it’s a salon of thinkers and provocateurs, where philosophy, poetry, and absinthe flow freely. Others whisper of business deals, golf and poetry, or just a walk in a green luxury oak woods.
It’s the perfect final location for The White Lotus—if only because no one, not even Mike White, could script what might unfold behind its discreet, olivewood doors.
Of course, while we wait for Mike White to assemble his next cast of exquisitely tortured souls, there’s nothing stopping you from booking a front-row seat to your own private unraveling.
Yes, Club BYMS may remain tantalisingly out of reach (unless, of course, you once ghostwrote the memoir of a former European president or own land where truffles grow naturally), but the rest of the list is open—at least nominally—to the public. You can spend a weekend chasing stillness in Utah’s Amangiri, or descend into the exquisite pageantry of Badrutt’s Palace, where the champagne flows like regret.
Plan a retreat to Cuixmala and pretend the zebra sighting is a spiritual message. Book Singita Lebombo and assure yourself that waking up to the sound of lions is the very definition of “grounding.” Or simply whisper Waldorf Astoria, Maldives into your group chat, and watch your friends' responses turn into envy-laced emoji chains.
Each resort promises a version of paradise, curated within an inch of its life. But as The White Lotus has taught us, the true drama begins after check-in.
And so we close the travelogue with a paradox: the pursuit of escape as both a performance and a reckoning. In this imagined next season of White Lotus, luxury is less a reward than a test. Each resort a polished stage for ego, envy, guilt, and grief to waltz through scenes of veiled catastrophe.
We’ll be waiting, quietly, for the invitation.
So pack your linen. Choose your secrets wisely. And remember: the front desk always knows more than they let on.