About “ultra all-inclusive”

Sunday morning.
The aroma of coffee drifts through the air.
From the kitchen, the clatter of dishes reaches my ears.
Breakfast is being prepared.

Snuggled cozily in bed, a hint of sadness creeps in.
It’s the last morning of our vacation in the countryside.
Ultra all-inclusive, 6-star countryside experience.

A full week has passed in my childhood home.
With a mother who takes care of everything, a father carrying huge bundles of food every day, the best sister one could wish for, chatting until the first rooster crows… and…
Five little “Mowglis” scattered like treasures from a cornucopia.

Top-class “hotel,” “at Grandma’s. In the Countryside.”
Everything adapted for the “guest.”
From the youngest to the oldest.
The kitchen receives products only from Grandma’s organic garden behind the farmhouse.
Menus are tailored to the guests’ wishes.
Dumplings?
Pancakes?
Hot sandwiches?
For breakfast.

Cepelinai?
Potato pancakes?
Pork chops?
Vegetable soup?
For lunch.

Dinner is even more varied and plentiful.
If hotel guests leave for a swim on a distant shore… lunch is carefully packed into bags.
“Just in case someone gets hungry?”

There’s also a massage “room.”
And having learned massage moves from mysterious sources, Grandma invites one guest after another to indulge and relax:
“Someone exhausted?”

There’s a “gym” with a “pool.”
The countryside is surrounded by vast forests, endless meadows, and a winding river.
We declared this vacation “active” and set a 100,000-step challenge.

Every morning and evening,
the larger or smaller team of vacationers would walk, bike, or stroll along winding forest paths.
The result of 6 days?
100,000 steps completed:
No running 70 km.
Over 4,000 calories burned.
13 hours of vacation time spent.
Sweat poured.
Even more energy and good vibes gained.

After morning/evening workouts, everyone would cheerfully jump into the latest fashion “pool”—the river, filled with little fish and handfuls of tiny shells.

To complete the wellness program, the hotel also has Grandpa’s tiny “sauna.”
Small.
Hardly fits all the guests.
But Grandpa generously heats it with a pile of wood,
and everyone emerges with perfectly rosy cheeks, collapsing into our conveniently filled cold-water pool.

There are also fun “excursions”:

Rafting down the river on self-made rafts
A trip to a farther riverside with a tree-mounted “tarzan swing”
Fishing trips
Bicycle, scooter, and roller adventures with a trick course in the yard
Drawing therapy on the carefully maintained courtyard paving stones
As befits any high-level hotel, there’s also a medical station.
In case of a “misstep,” Grandma appears instantly, armed with bandages and ointments that relieve pain “in an instant.”

It seems the “At Grandma’s. In the Countryside.” hotel has everything.
Yet, while lazily turning in bed on the last day, cozy in the sheets, I realize it does not.
Despite having installed every convenience for the guests,
one role was forgotten—
The accountant.

Carrying out the ultra all-inclusive program flawlessly,
he has never actually tallied anything.
He panics:
“Just hope we don’t go bankrupt…”

But I calm down.
The smell of breakfast drifting from the kitchen, guests still half-asleep, streaming into “At Grandma’s. In the Countryside.”
It’s clear the hotel is FULLY booked.

With guests.
And love.

V.