Horses, Carriages, Fudge and The White Lotus?! Oh, Mi - Could that really happen?

Mackinac Island: Michigan’s Time Capsule Wants to Seduce "The White Lotus"

Alright, Michigan, here’s the deal — our state’s got a gem that’s begging for its close-up, again. Mackinac Island, that car-free, fudge-fueled wonderland up north, is flexing its Victorian biceps, and Governor Gretchen Whitmer’s out here pitching it as the next hotspot for HBO’s The White Lotus Season 4. Picture this: the Grand Hotel’s sprawling porch, a cast of morally dubious rich folks sipping cocktails (no, not the Mackinac Policy Conference), and horse-drawn carriages clopping through the drama. Down with Detroit? Sure, but let’s give a nod to this Up North #1 stunner.

Mackinac Island isn’t just a place—it’s a dream. No cars, just bikes, hooves, and the occasional tourist wobbling off a ferry with a sunburn and a sugar high from all that Fudge. It’s like stepping into a time machine where the air smells of lilacs and horse manure, and the only traffic jam is a herd of Clydesdales. The Grand Hotel, that whitewashed beauty perched above the Straits, is the crown jewel. With its 397 rooms and a porch longer than a bathroom line at Ford Field, it’s been serving old-world swagger since 1887. And now, Whitmer’s like, “Hey, HBO, trade Thailand’s jungles for our lilac bushes—let’s get weird in the Mitten.”

This isn’t the Grand Hotel’s first Hollywood rodeo. Back in 1980, Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour twirled through its halls for Somewhere in Time, a romantic weepie that turned the island into a swoon-worthy backdrop. They shot in the dining room where you need a jacket just to eat salad, on that endless porch where rocking chairs rock, and amid the gardens that scream “I’m too pretty for reality.” The film’s a cult classic now—proof Mackinac can handle a camera crew and still look flawless. If Somewhere in Time could make time travel look sexy here, imagine what The White Lotus could do with a murder mystery and some overpriced spa treatments.

The island’s got everything a dark comedy needs. You’ve got the Grand Hotel’s opulence—think chandeliers, gilded wallpaper, and staff who’ve perfected the art of smiling through chaos. Then there’s the quirks: horse poop as a natural hazard, fudge shops on every corner (seriously, it’s like Willy Wonka’s summer home), bars bars and bars, and a vibe that’s equal parts quaint and “what’s that rich guy hiding?” Whitmer’s pitch isn’t just a tourism flex—it’s a dare. Trade Sicily’s villas for a place where the only engine noise is a ferry horn. Max, HBO’s streaming overlords, even chimed in with a “we’re accepting submissions,” so the ball’s rolling, Michigan.

Down here in the D, we’re used to grit and grind, but Mackinac’s a different beast. It’s Michigan’s postcard-perfect escape, where the water’s so blue it hurts and the pace is so slow you’d swear time’s on vacation too. The Grand Hotel’s got history everywhere from its rafters—presidents, poets, and now, maybe, a fictional body count. Imagine Tanya from The White Lotus stumbling down those red-carpeted steps, martini in hand, or Shane plotting something shady over a $20 burger at the Gate House. The island’s got the goods: luxury, isolation, and just enough eccentricity to make it pop on screen.

So, Michigan, let’s root for this. Mackinac’s our state’s wild card—part fairy tale, part fever dream. If Somewhere in Time could capture its magic, The White Lotus could turn it into a twisted paradise. Picture the headlines: “Michigan’s Grand Hotel Steals HBO’s Heart.” We’d cheer from our porches, sipping Vernors, knowing our Up North kin just pulled off the ultimate flex. Mackinac’s ready to check in—let’s see if Hollywood bites.