That one nature-immersive micro-resort…

I fell in love with hospitality in a tiny wooden cabin, where nature inspired every moment.

One summer, my parents took me to Altai Republic, Siberia.

Mornings smelled like pine.

The air was crisp, untouched.

Outside, endless green. No fences. No walls. Just open land stretching to the mountains.

Our cabin was small. A wooden deck. Two beds. A simple table and chair.

Nothing fancy. But it felt like home.

The deer moved slowly, gracefully.

One morning, we set out to forage for mushrooms. The forest was quiet, the earth damp beneath our feet.

Then—movement.

We looked up.

Camels.

Grazing under the trees, their massive bodies strangely at ease in the Siberian wild.

Then they saw us.

And we ran.

A chase we never expected, our laughter mixing with the sound of pounding hooves.

By the time we stopped, breathless and exhilarated, our baskets of mushrooms were lighter.

Another day, the caretaker urged me to ride.

I hesitated.

But then, Geya.

A deep brown horse with knowing eyes.

She understood me before I understood her.

I climbed on.

And we flew.

The wind, the open fields, the rush of pure, unfiltered freedom.

That summer in Siberia, I learned something.

Hospitality isn’t about luxury.

It’s about how a place makes you feel.

The quiet of the morning. The warmth of a wooden cabin. The thrill of the unexpected.

For guests, places like this aren’t just getaways.

They’re where you rediscover yourself.

And for those who create them?

They’re legacies. Stories waiting to be passed down.

p.s. I recently created a short video about this trip fully done with AI, check it out here.