Cappadocia, located in central Turkey, southeast of the capital Ankara, is known for its distinctive fairy chimneys, cave dwellings and ancient rock-cut churches.
Earlier in October, a 55-year-old Brazilian tourist was fatally struck in the head by a piece of roofing material that blew off during strong winds while he was visiting Taliesin West, a historic Arizona landmark designed by famed architect Frank Lloyd Wright.
Also in October, a 36-year-old American tourist died after falling approximately 1,000 feet down a steep mountain slope in Italy's Dolomites while vacationing with her family.
Villa Vie Residences CEO and founding partner Kathy Villalba sent Odyssey residents a message on Circle, the ship’s internal messaging platform, saying she was sorry for the "pain, the loss, and the uncertainty" they face after the voyage came to an abrupt halt this week.
Villa Vie had promised residents of its 509-cabin ship a chance to live permanently at sea and circumnavigate the world every three-and-a-half years. On Tuesday morning, residents were given only a few hours' notice to disembark.
Business Insider reviewed screenshots of the memo, which was deleted hours after it was posted. Three Villa Vie residents with access to Circle confirmed the memo's contents and that it was no longer visible.
In it, Villalba said the media attention had become "overwhelming" and that she had been advised to refrain from making further public comments.
Villalba and Villa Vie did not respond to requests for comment on the memo or why it was deleted.
In the apology note, Villalba said the company was still in talks with potential investors and expressed hope that a resident-led initiative to buy the ship would succeed.
You can read the full text here:
Dear Residents,I owe all of you a message, and I am sorry if it has taken me this long to find the words.I think part of me has been in denial that this could really be happening. Even now, we continue to speak with potential investors, holding on to whatever hope remains because I simply cannot imagine letting this dream go.The media attention has become overwhelming, to the point that reporters are now contacting our families, including people who have nothing to do with the company.On the advice of counsel, I have been asked to refrain from making further public comments, particularly as even conversations within Circle are no longer private.But I couldn't remain silent without telling you how deeply sorry I am for the pain, the loss, and the uncertainty so many of you are facing.I know so many of you are hurting, scared, and angry, and I wish more than anything that I could take that pain away.For nearly two years, this wasn't just a business to me. It was my entire life. I poured my heart, my soul, and everything I had into it The ship was my baby, but it was your home, and in so many ways, all of you became my family. I care for this community as though it were my own children, through the good days and the difficult ones.My team used to call me the "Resident Wikipedia," because I knew all of you by name and by story. That meant so much to me, because getting to know each of you individually was the best part of all of this.The thought of losing it leaves a hole in my heart that I cannot begin to describe.Thank you for believing in two ordinary people with an extraordinary dream. Together, we created something truly special. We traveled the world, built friendships, shared laughter and tears, and experienced a way of life that so few people ever get to know.I still don't want this to be the end.I sincerely hope the resident initiative succeeds, and we stand ready to assist wherever we reasonably can to help preserve the lifestyle you have all grown to love.Please know that we love and care about each and every one of you. Through the good and the bad, even through the disagreements and disappointments, that has never changed.Above all, I hope everyone is safe, supported, and looking after one another during this incredibly difficult time.From the bottom of my heart, thank you for being part of this dream.With love,Kathy <3
Thanksgiving travel 2026 faces construction and weather risks at JFK, LAX, Chicago O'Hare and Atlanta's west side — 4 of 7 trouble spots the Farmers' Almanac flags
The author visited abandoned structures at the Crandon Park Zoo's ruins in Florida.
Joey Hadden/Business Insider
The story of Miami's first zoo is a sad one.
A hurricane destroyed the coastal attraction, leaving the cages empty.
The animals that live there today are free.
Elephants, monkeys, tigers, and reptiles once lived on a corner of a South Florida beach, where I found empty cages covered in graffiti and greenery.
The Crandon Park Zoo opened in 1948 as Miami's first zoo, according to the Miami Herald. Then a hurricane in the 1980s left it in shambles. The park closed, and animals that survived the hurricane were moved to a larger area. In 1991, the zoo ruins reopened as gardens.
I visited the park in October 2021 to see what remained of the abandoned zoo, and I found a natural wildlife sanctuary.
The first thing I noticed was a sign at the entrance warning visitors that crocodiles were present.
Joey Hadden/Business Insider
According to Atlas Obscura, the ruins are also home to wild alligators, iguanas, and peacocks.
The walkways through the park made me feel as if I were in a zoo — one where the animals were free.
Joey Hadden/Business Insider
Parts of the park were paved, while others felt wild. Some of the land was once a coconut plantation, according to the Miami Herald.
In one shaded area, I spotted what appeared to be an abandoned animal cage embedded in the rocks.
Joey Hadden/Business Insider
I thought it looked like it could have been a unique, immersive attraction and wondered what animals may have lived there decades ago.
Some of the abandoned structures were fenced off and covered in graffiti.
Joey Hadden/Business Insider
I peered over high, chain-linked fences and spotted remnants of vandalized structures.
But one large structure remained accessible.
Joey Hadden/Business Insider
It appeared to once house multiple cages.
Around the back, I noticed caged doors that looked as if they were used to feed the animals inside.
Joey Hadden/Business Insider
I was able to see inside a few of the animals' quarters, which were now empty aside from some leaves, branches, and overgrown vines. The doors were still locked.
The view inside the structures was somewhat haunting.
Joey Hadden/Business Insider
Peering inside made me think about the animals that might have gotten stuck inside as hurricane waters filled their enclosures.
I tried to imagine what kind of animals could live in these spaces. Based on their size, maybe monkeys, I thought.
I left the park thinking it's probably a better home now for the wildlife that has taken over.
Joel Greiff moved onto Villa Vie's Odyssey in October 2026.
Courtesy of Joel Greiff
Joel Greiff planned to live on Villa Vie's Odyssey for decades, but was aboard for less than a month.
He packed his Florida life into six bags and boarded the Odyssey earlier this month.
On Tuesday, however, residents were ordered off in Cambodia as Villa Vie suspended operations.
This as-told-to essay is based on several conversations with Joel Greiff, 57, a Villa Vie Odyssey passenger from Florida. It has been edited for length and clarity. Villa Vie Residences and its founders, Mikael Petterson and Kathy Villalba, did not immediately respond to a request from Business Insider.
I planned to live on the Odyssey for 10, 20, or even more years. I don't think that will be happening now.
Still, unlike others, I am celebrating the time I was able to enjoy on the Odyssey, which was 26 days before Villa Vie suspended operations on Tuesday and we had to disembark in Cambodia.
I thought I had found my new home
In April 2024, I read an article about the Odyssey. I called a sales agent at the company and asked a bunch of questions.
The following May, I stayed on the Odyssey for four days. Within five minutes of boarding, I concluded that this was my new home, these were my new neighbors, and this would be my future.
What drew me in was that it would be a place where I could come, live, and be part of a community. I was following residents on Facebook and reached out to a couple of them individually. I asked whether they were happy with their decisions, and they said yes.
In August this year, I left my home in Florida. I spent a couple of months driving around the US, visiting friends and family, and saying my goodbyes. Then, in September, I flew to Bangkok and moved onto the ship on October 1.
Joel Greiff introduced himself as 'Fantastic Joel' to the residents of the Odyssey.
Courtesy of Joel Greiff
I introduced 'Fantastic Joel' — that's what I go by — to many people on a ship. Most enjoyed meeting me. I'm sure a few didn't. There was always something going on, and people were really nice to each other. There were arts-and-crafts, plays, karaoke, and Seder dinners for Jewish residents.
I tried to put myself out there, meet a lot of different people, and say hi. There was always a good community having a good time. I absolutely fell in love with the crew. They deserve all the accolades and respect.
It was clear that things had changed
Compared with my visit in May 2025, it was clear to me that services and amenities had deteriorated by the time I moved aboard in October. Laundry was being done less frequently. Before going to Angkor Wat, I had to do my own laundry. The itinerary kept changing, and we sometimes sat at sea for days. Personally, I was fine with it.
Circle, Villa Vie's communication platform, was how the CEO and residents communicated. It's also how we got internal notices about the itinerary changes, visa applications, and other ship business.
On Sunday, we were told on Circle that if the company didn't receive money by Tuesday, the ship would not continue sailing. On Monday, we were told again that without money, the voyage would stop.
On Tuesday morning, I was at the bus station, coming back from a trip to Angkor Wat, charging my phone and waiting to get the shuttle back to the ship. The message came through on Circle telling us to disembark. It was about 7 a.m., and we had to be out by 2 p.m.
Before I arrived in Asia, I had fit everything I owned into four checked suitcases and two carry-on bags. I was able to repack within an hour. For people who had lived on the Odyssey for two years and had a home's worth of belongings, it was much harder.
I went somewhere quiet, then returned to help
After we disembarked, I went to Kampot, a small town in Cambodia, because I wanted to be somewhere peaceful. People had said it was relaxing.
Sihanoukville, where the ship was, felt like the opposite: a big, noisy place full of casinos and high-rises. I saw staff still working and residents who were discombobulated. I thought, 'I've got to get out of this craziness.'
Joel Greiff is considering spending time in Thailand.
Courtesy of Joel Greiff
For now, I've rented an affordable two-bedroom apartment for a month, about three hours away from Sihanoukville, where the ship is. I've been going back to the ship to help my fellow residents with their luggage, finding places to stay, and getting their belongings off the ship.
The residents are all coming together and helping each other out. Somebody says, "Do you have a suitcase?" and somebody says, "Yes, I have one spare."
I may never get my money back
I paid a lot for a 26-day stay on the Odyssey. Most likely I will never see it again. To me, if I lose the money, I don't need it. I don't care.
After all, the most important things in life are great friends and family, traveling the world, creating adventures, learning new things and, most importantly, helping others.
If the ship somehow finds a way to become a viable business, I would get back on it. If not, I'll explore living in Chiang Mai, Thailand. That was already my Plan B when I left Florida.
Amanda Goh and Alexandra Karplus contributed reporting.
Have you spent any time on the Villa Vie Odyssey as a cabin owner, renter, or staff member? If you have a story to share, get in touch with this reporter: jzitser@businessinsider.com.
A 24-year-old travel influencer was killed after a pickup truck carrying a group of travelers was swept away while crossing a river in Nicaragua.
French traveler Emma Marie Laurent was one of three women who died after the vehicle was caught in strong currents following heavy rainfall, according to news agency Jam Press.
The group was traveling through El Manzano, a community in the northwestern department of Chinandega, when they attempted to cross the Nahualapa River at around 1 a.m. on Oct. 9, the same source reported.
Recent rainfall had caused the river to rise, creating dangerous conditions before the vehicle attempted to cross.
The driver, identified as Mexican national Martin Gerardo García Girón, reportedly stepped out of the pickup to assess the water level before attempting the crossing, according to Jam Press.
The water reportedly came close to the driver's knees, but the current swept the pickup away and caused it to overturn.
The driver survived, though accounts have differed on whether other passengers also made it to safety, according to Jam Press.
Authorities were investigating the circumstances surrounding the crossing.
Nicaraguan co-President Rosario Murillo offered condolences to the victims' families following the deaths.
"This is a tragedy," Murillo said, according to reports.
"We express our solidarity and our call to remain vigilant and, in the face of such tragedies, to express our full solidarity."
Murillo also warned about the dangers of crossing rivers during Nicaragua's rainy season.
"Rivers are deceptive; one thinks they are calm and, suddenly, the current comes, and we have tragedies like this that bring mourning to families," she said, according to Jam Press.
Laurent had developed an online following by sharing her travels around the world, including glimpses of life on the road from her van.
Living on a boat full-time is expensive, but so far, it's been worth the costs.
Rachel Murphy
When my husband and I moved to California, we decided to live on a sailboat.
Repairs, maintenance, and docking fees have made the lifestyle more expensive than we expected.
The tight quarters can be challenging, but the experience has been great for our marriage.
Last year, my husband, Michael, and I bought a sailboat to live on full-time.
At the time, we were preparing to move from our home near Louisville, Kentucky, to Santa Barbara, California, where I'd lived for a few years after college.
As excited as we were to move to a new state, we weren't prepared for the higher cost of rent, and paying $2,500 a month for a place we wouldn't even own was a hard pill to swallow for two Midwesterners.
We knew we couldn't afford to buy a house yet, but still wanted a something we could own outright. I figured there had to be an alternative option.
After some thought, I remembered I had previously met a number of people in Santa Barbara who lived aboard boats, and wondered if that would be feasible for us.
My husband and I had each been on a handful of sailing trips, and as lifelong outdoorspeople, exploring by ocean was appealing, even though we knew almost nothing about the logistics.
Once the idea was planted, we couldn't imagine doing anything else.
So far, the experience has been full of ups and downs
Our 1975 43-foot sailboat is a beauty, but it needed a lot of repairs.
Rachel Murphy
After deciding to take this leap, we saved up and consumed every book and YouTube channel about sailing. We even fastened a sailing cleat to the arm of an old chair, and we used that to practice our knots.
In September 2025, we bought a 1975 sailboat outright for $40,000 in San Francisco and sailed it down the coast the morning the papers were signed.
Our 43-foot boat is a beautiful work of craftsmanship, featuring a well-preserved wooden interior with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a desk. But unfortunately, the boat came with an overwhelming amount of work from the start.
Along with two bedrooms and two bathrooms, the boat has a desk and a small kitchen.
Rachel Murphy
The previous owner had left us quite a mess to clean up, leaving every drawer stuffed with old kitchenware and junk. Plus, it needed work, like replacing the rotting main sheet, updating the navigation systems, and cleaning out a mildewed freshwater tank — things we've slowly fixed one at a time.
The first night aboard the boat, we lay in bed and thought to ourselves, "What have we done?" We hung up a horseshoe — a lucky family heirloom that had watched over my dad's doorway for 20 years — hoping it still had some luck left to lend us.
Although we've loved living on a boat so far, we were surprised it wasn't more affordable than living on land. Our slip fee, about $1,500 a month, at the marina where we're usually docked, is cheaper than any studio apartment in the area, but we make up the difference in the maintenance that comes with owning a boat from 1975.
There's a saying among boat owners that BOAT stands for "Bust Out Another Thousand" — something we didn't learn until we lived aboard. Boat parts aren't cheap, and anything labeled "marine" comes with a hefty price tag.
Luckily, we've been able to save a lot of money by doing the labor ourselves — whether that's resealing the windows, installing solar, or replacing engine parts. Michael is a great engineer, mechanic, and all-around handy guy, and I'm fair with a wrench.
The extra costs haven't been easy, but the boat certainly feels like home.
Rachel Murphy
Despite the financial challenges of living on board, we've developed a routine that has made this place feel like home.
Most weekday mornings start with espresso from the machine we squeezed onto our limited counter space. We drink it in the cockpit while the rest of the marina is woken up by the loud roars of sea lions.
After work, we like to bike around town and sometimes host dinner parties that end with watching the sunset behind the hundreds of sailboat masts.
On the weekends, we've been able to use the boat to explore the California coast. We pack up on a Friday, sail out to a quiet anchor, and spend a few days hiking, swimming, and watching dolphins from the deck.
A year living aboard has tested us, but it's also brought us closer
Sharing a tight space with my husband can be challenging, but we've blossomed as a team.
Rachel Murphy
After a year on the boat, we trust ourselves more and more as sailors, and the sweetest part has been watching us blossom as a team.
Even though it can be challenging sharing a space with someone who is never more than 10 feet from you, the greatest adventure has been navigating this new lifestyle and learning curve together.
Sure, we miss having a large floor space to stretch, a kitchen big enough for two, and a toilet that doesn't smell like rotten seawater.
Some days, our 43 feet feels larger than life, filled with possibilities and adventure, but other times it feels like we're living in a very expensive closet.
We love inviting friends and family aboard for dinner parties.
Rachel Murphy
Even on those claustrophobic, leak-dodging, seaweed-scented days, neither one of us would trade it. Not yet, anyway. We've been able to explore the Channel Islands, witness incredible coastal wildlife, and learn the skills that come with living on the water: reading the weather, trimming sails, and surfing.
Eventually, we want children, and we can't picture raising them aboard. But for now, we're exactly where we want to be.
There's a narrow window in life when you can uproot everything for something this impractical, and we're standing right in the middle of it.
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