Hawaii travel is split. One version gets you here on a cheap fare and meals from the Costco food court. Another offers butlers, private SUVs, and suite-only yachts. And in between, what used to be the most common kind of Hawaii vacation with moderate pricing is fading fast.

We first noticed it while reporting on cruise tiers in From Buffets To Butlers: What Hawaii Travel Has Become. But a reader said it better than we could.

Jim wrote: “The three travel tiers are also a reflection of what is happening in America’s housing affordability, with the middle being squeezed downwards and the upper class able to afford premium everything. Hawaii’s travel model may just be what will exist in all facets of life for everyone—and maybe Hawaii’s travel model is a trendsetter of the way things are becoming everywhere, travel or otherwise.”

We haven’t stopped thinking about that. It aligns with what we’ve been seeing for years and what many of you’ve been telling us as well. And now, more than ever.

This is the Hawaii vacation where you watch fare alerts like a hawk, jump on a Hawaiian or Southwest sale, or use saved miles, and make the numbers work. Maybe you’re in an older Waikiki hotel, a no-frills condo in Kihei, or another basic accommodation that’s clean, safe, and not much more. Groceries come from Costco or Foodland, with poke eaten on the beach and musubi packed for the next day’s adventure. It’s not glamorous, but it’s Hawaii, and for many travelers, that’s still the ultimate dream come true.

The trouble is, even this version is getting substantially more expensive. Airfares from both the West and East Coasts have doubled mainly in the past year. Prices even for simple plate lunches have gone up across the islands. As we reported in Surging Hawaii Fast Food Prices Amplify Travel Costs, even fast food is straining budgets. Rental cars, taxes, fees, and activities have all soared in tandem. And with fewer direct flights available, when you find lower fares, they sometimes come with longer or less convenient itineraries.

This tier still works—but only if you’re willing to adapt. That might mean flying at odd hours, skipping island hopping, trimming your stay duration, or cutting back on activities and excursions. You’re still in Hawaii, but it takes more compromises to make it happen, and for many, it no longer feels like the trip they remember so fondly.

This is the Hawaii trip where everything is taken care of. You land, and someone’s already waiting. The room has a view, a stocked minibar, and maybe even a butler. You’re at places like the Four Seasons Lanai, private resort enclaves, or aboard the new Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection, now quietly entering the Hawaii cruise market with an experience most visitors will never see.

This tier isn’t just about spending more. It’s about removing friction entirely. These travelers get picked up in luxury SUVs, bypass lines, and rarely touch their bags. They’re not navigating Hawaii. They’re floating above it.

This is where the industry, from airlines to accommodations, is investing most heavily now. It scales well, and it sells the fantasy of Hawaii without the reality. Hotels, like airlines, are now using AI to adjust room rates hundreds of times a day. Loyalty programs demand more points for fewer perks. As benefits shrink for everyone else, this tier is being actively pursued.

This is the tier that takes the most thought, and often delivers the most meaning. It’s not about grabbing the cheapest deal or chasing the highest-end ones either. It’s about creating a trip that feels like your own slice of Hawaii. You stay at a small inn or an older hotel with personality. Maybe only two stars, but with a small view. You plan your days around trails, farmers markets, local restaurant lunches, and time in the water, but not just checklists.

You do the thorough research, not on Reddit. You avoid the worst crowds. You pay attention to what’s changed and what hasn’t. It’s not always easy, but it’s deeply rewarding when you get it right.

Unlike the access tier, which often means scaling back, or the indulgence tier, which you buy your way into everything, the curation tier requires actual design, and that’s what makes it harder to achieve and all the more authentic.

This is where BOH editors spend most of our travel lives and where many of you still find your rhythm. However, it’s also the most challenging tier to maintain. As we noted in This Is Not The Hawaii You Knew: A New Travel Reality Emerging, even seasoned visitors are finding it harder to plan the kind of trip that used to come naturally.

The curation tier isn’t something you can buy off the shelf. It’s not a package or a preset itinerary. The traveler builds it one decision, one discovery at a time. And that’s precisely why it’s at risk.

As reservations become tighter, closures more common, and prices rise without always reflecting value, it’s getting harder to pull off this kind of trip. First-time visitors often don’t know where to start. Even longtime travelers—us included—are adjusting on the fly. We’ve had to change plans based on cruise ship schedules, overcrowded lookouts, closed trails, and weather patterns that didn’t used to shift so fast.

In Hope for Hawaii’s Most Devoted Visitors, one reader said it plainly: “We don’t want luxury. We want connection. But it’s become exhausting to plan.” And that’s what we keep hearing—again and again.

Across the U.S., vacation budgets are shifting fast. A recent series from GOBankingRates on vacation inflation reported that a basic family vacation to Costa Rica now averages $7,800 without airfare. Hotel prices in the Netherlands forced one family to skip the country altogether. Single-day theme park tickets have risen to nearly $200. What used to be a seven-night stay is now often just four nights.

Hawaii airfares are up significantly from last year. Sales are few and far between. Across the country, road trips are on the rise and are often longer in distance, and RV rentals are also increasing. More Americans are opting for driving vacations or staying close to home, not because they prefer it, but because trans-Pacific air and hotel pricing no longer work. Travel budgets are shrinking even as prices rise, and in many cases, it’s the middle-tier traveler who’s getting squeezed out of Hawaii.

The split we’re seeing—between high-end and bare-bones travel, with the middle falling away—is showing up far beyond Hawaii. A recent Financial Times article on shifting travel demand reported that U.S. travel demand is now cooling among middle-income travelers, while upper-income households continue to spend freely. That same piece pointed out that the mid-tier travel market is under the most pressure, exactly where curated, effortful Hawaii trips used to thrive.

Business Insider’s report on luxury summer travel found that more than half of this summer’s travelers have household incomes over $100,000, with luxury hotel bookings rising sharply. Meanwhile, mid-range options aren’t keeping pace, either in terms of inventory or pricing flexibility. The result is a travel experience that increasingly caters to those who can spend far more or are willing to settle for much less.

What’s playing out here may be the early version of something much broader. Hawaii has consistently absorbed economic shifts more quickly than most places. And this time, it’s showing how travel—and travelers—are being re-sorted into extremes.

This isn’t just a travel story. It’s a reflection of something bigger. Hawaii has long been a kind of preview market, where limited space and intense demand collide in ways that often play out ahead of the mainland. Whether it’s airfare, accommodations, or the cost of a burger, what happens here tends to show up elsewhere, albeit just a little later.

The shift we’re seeing now, where travel is either stripped down or designed for the most wealthy, looks a lot like what’s happening across American life. The middle isn’t disappearing all at once; it’s just harder to hold onto. Pew Research pointed to the shrinking U.S. middle class years ago. That data may not be current, but the direction hasn’t changed. And Hawaii is just making it all the more visible.

We’ve said it before, but it continues to prove true. Some of the clearest signals about Hawaii travel come from you. We hear from readers who have downsized their trips, delayed return plans, or completely changed how they travel to Hawaii. Others are doubling down on making their time count, even if it takes more work. That mix is what fleshes out the picture, not just what data or the travel industry says.

If you’ve noticed the shift in tiers, we’d like to hear how it’s impacted you. Has the middle gotten harder to find? Is the experience still worth it? Or have you had to compromise in ways you didn’t expect?

Let us know how you’re navigating Hawaii now. What’s different and what’s the same? What’s gone? What’s still holding up? Your insight doesn’t just reflect the trend—it often gets ahead of it. And we’re all ears.