The Splurge That Was Worth It (and the One That Wasn't)

The Splurge That Was Worth It (and the One That Wasn’t)

The sun hadn’t cleared the canyon rim yet, but the Arizona high desert was already baking my tent. I crouched over a single-burner camp stove, balancing a cast-iron skillet that had cost me a night’s sleep to pack. One egg, one flour tortilla, and a dollop of salsa from a plastic container—that should have been a simple breakfast. Instead, I scorched the tortilla, broke the yolk, and sat there eating a taco so brittle it shattered against my teeth. It was the best meal of the trip, because it was mine, and the silence felt like a gift, not a gap.

That morning, I had an epiphany. Not all luxury glamping upgrades deliver. Some are life-changing. Others are just expensive. I’ve now stayed in over forty glamping properties—from yurts in the Pacific Northwest to domes in the desert Southwest—and I’ve become obsessed with the ROI of each premium amenity. Here’s my item-by-item verdict.

The Private Hot Tub: A Solid Yes

My first private hot tub was at a cabin in the Colorado Rockies. Cedar tub on a deck overlooking a pine forest. The temperature hit a perfect 102°F, and the stars were so bright I could see the Milky Way. I soaked for an hour, sipping a beer, while light snow fell. That was three years ago. I still think about it.

Since then, I’ve used private hot tubs at glamping sites in Oregon, California, and Washington. They’ve consistently been worth the extra money—usually $50–$100 per night. Why? Because they create a private sanctuary. No strangers splashing nearby. No communal chlorine smell. Just you and the elements.

Tip #1: Before booking, ask if the hot tub is truly private and not shared with another unit. Also ask about maintenance—nothing ruins a soak like greenish water or weak jets. I once paid a premium for a tub that took 45 minutes to heat.

The “Chef Breakfast”: A Hard No

That soggy pancake in Vermont was my third failed chef breakfast. At a safari tent in Texas, the “breakfast basket” contained two-day-old croissants and a bruised apple. At a bell tent in New York, the chef delivered scrambled eggs that tasted like the pan they were cooked in.

I’ve concluded that glamping chef breakfasts are rarely worth the cost—often $25–$45 per person. The food is usually cold. The portions are small. And the “chef” is often a general handyman who also fixes the plumbing.

Instead, I now book properties with a kitchenette or at least a coffee maker and mini-fridge. I bring my own eggs, bacon, and a portable stove. I make breakfast while the sun rises. It’s always better—and cheaper.

Tip #2: If a breakfast is included in the price, ask what it actually is. A voucher for a local café? That’s often a better bet. But if it’s prepackaged or cooked by the host, lower your expectations.

The Outdoor Shower: Underrated

I’ll admit it—I was skeptical about outdoor showers. But after trying one at a glamping site in California, I’m a convert. Copper pipe attached to a redwood wall. Hot water. A view of the ocean. It felt decadent, private, and surprisingly warm—even in under 60°F weather.

Not all outdoor showers are created equal. Look for ones with real hot water (not a solar bag), good pressure, and a drain that doesn’t flood the floor. And check that it’s fully screened or positioned away from neighbors. When done right, an outdoor shower is one of the best splurges you can make.

The Fire Pit: A Conditional Yes

Most glamping sites offer a fire pit, but the quality varies. I’ve had a beautiful stone pit pre-stocked with wood and fitted with a grill grate for cooking. That was worth it. I’ve also had a rusted metal ring with wet wood that wouldn’t light—and no one to help.

If you’re a fire person, check that wood is provided (or available for purchase), that the pit is clean, and that seating is comfortable. A fire pit can make the experience. But only if it’s usable.

The Inflatable vs. Real Bed: Real Always Wins

One of my biggest splurge regrets was a “luxury” yurt with a blow-up mattress. Marketed as a “queen-size memory foam bed.” It was clearly a high-end air mattress. It deflated by 3 a.m., and I woke up on a hard floor.

Now, I always ask about the actual bed. If it’s an air mattress, I pass—unless it’s a super-fluff model. Real beds with real mattresses are the only way to get a good night’s sleep.

The Premium Location: Worth It for Views

I once paid $100 extra per night for a “waterfront” safari tent in Florida. Worth every penny. I woke up to manatees swimming past my porch and fell asleep to the sound of waves. The standard sites were in a parking lot-style field with no personality.

Location upgrades often pay off if the view is unique. But beware of “waterfront” that means a pond with algae. Ask for photos of the actual view from your tent.

The Final Verdict

After dozens of glamping stays, I’ve learned to focus on what matters: a real bed, a private hot tub, and some form of heat (if it’s cold). Chef breakfasts, fancy toiletries, and overpriced welcome baskets are usually fluff.

Glamping is about experiencing nature without sacrificing comfort. The best splurges enhance that connection—soaking under the stars, listening to rain on a canvas roof. The worst try to replicate a hotel room in the woods.

So next time you’re booking a glamping trip, ask yourself: will this upgrade make me feel more immersed in the outdoors, or just more broke? Your wallet—and your sleep—will thank you.