The Three Worst Parts of Travelling (In My Opinion)

15 Sept

I love travelling. Obviously.

I'd happily spend every second week on a plane if my bank account and family responsibilities agreed with the idea.
But as much as I love it, there are a few parts of travelling that I don't think anyone genuinely enjoys. They're just the necessary evils that come with having incredible experiences.

1. Coming home

This one is unavoidable.

You've had the most amazing couple of weeks, you've finally adjusted to the local time zone, you've found your favourite coffee shop and worked out exactly which restaurant serves the best dinner... and then it's time to leave.

Coming home is always a strange mix of being happy to sleep in your own bed while simultaneously wondering why you aren't floating over a coral reef or eating breakfast overlooking the ocean.

I don't think I've ever met anyone who says, "I can't wait for the holiday to be over."

2. Planning the whole thing

This is probably the one that surprises people the most.

Planning a holiday sounds exciting until you actually start doing it. Suddenly you've got airline websites open in one tab, accommodation in another, someone on Reddit telling you not to stay there, Google Maps open to check whether the hotel is actually close to the beach, and about fourteen articles all claiming they've found the "hidden gem" that apparently everyone already knows about.

Then comes the decision fatigue.

Is that resort actually better, or does it just have a better photographer? Is the cheaper flight worth the eight-hour layover? Will you regret not spending the extra money? Are the reviews genuine? Have you forgotten something important?

It's amazing how quickly something that's meant to be fun starts to feel like another job.

This is probably why I've never understood the argument that using a travel agent somehow takes away the excitement. If anything, it leaves you with the enjoyable bits while someone else worries about whether your transfers actually line up.

3. Packing

Packing has an incredible ability to make otherwise sensible people lose all common sense.

You'll stare at your suitcase wondering whether you'll need six pairs of shoes for ten days, convince yourself you definitely will, then arrive and wear the same pair of thongs for the entire trip.

Or you'll be so focused on fitting everything in that you'll forget the one thing you actually needed. Chargers seem to be the most common offender, although I've seen everything from dive certification cards to prescription medication left behind.

Somehow there's always room for "just in case" clothing, but not the thing you'll be searching for five minutes after arriving.

The funny thing is that none of these annoyances are enough to stop us booking the next trip.

A week or two after getting home, we'll already be scrolling through destinations, convincing ourselves that next time we'll pack lighter, plan better and somehow make the holiday last longer.

Spoiler alert: we won't. And honestly, I think that's part of the fun.