Snow Boots Off, SPF on: My JW Marriott Obsession

Living in Minneapolis comes with its quirks — we gave the world Prince, we host the mother of all malls, and we have a direct line to paradise. During high season (otherwise known as sub-zero hell), EIGHT daily flights shoot straight from MSP to Cancun.

That 5 a.m. flight? It’s my winter escape ritual. I shuffle out in Tory Burch flip-flops, sheer linen pants, and a six-dollar Target tank, tiptoeing across the snow-crushed driveway like I’m crossing a frozen battlefield. Practical? Not even a little. But when you’re beach-bound in under five hours, who needs socks?

The vibe on board is pure Minnesota solidarity. We’re all on the same mission: Vitamin D, SPF roulette (always start with 50), and Bloody Marys by 9 a.m. My new best friend in seat 2B is already tipsy and spilling her favorite swimsuit coverup secrets before we hit cruising altitude.

Here’s my other winter survival hack: choose your hotel like you choose your soulmate. I’m unapologetically a Marriott Mistress. My corporate travel loyalty points are basically love letters, and I’ve been known to pick a Fairfield Inn over a Waldorf Astoria because, well, free nights are relationship goals.

So when it’s Mexico time, the JW Marriott Cancun is my forever go-to. It’s polished without being pretentious, with an elevator that whisks you straight from your room to the sand — no awkward swimsuit catwalk through the lobby. The beach, perched just above the public stretch, delivers endless turquoise views, soothing waves, and margaritas that appear as if summoned by some sun-soaked wizard.

From frostbite to flip-flops, Minnesota may keep me grounded, but Marriott always gets me to the beach.