Travelling for me is a blessing and a curse. I love seeing new places - the outdoors and wildlife, mainly - and I love the feeling of being in a new place to explore. I love the planning too, and I actually quite like the whole flying experience. We’re always planning a few trips ahead, and I’m currently packing for our next one.
But, as I’ve got older, I also like the comfort of familiarity, and I don’t like hotels. I want a comfy bed, space, and at least a fridge and basic cooking facilities. I really don’t like having the apartment serviced either.
I’m less inclined to holiday where I don’t speak the language, or I can’t rely on the people there speaking English. I’ll happily get by with my schooldays French and German and a smattering of Spanish and Portuguese words in a cafe or shop… but what if we needed medical care? I
Which brings me to the travel anxiety. It’s all what ifs, and what have I missed? Do I have passports, driving licence and prescription sunglasses (at least 150 times on the morning of departure, and in the taxi). What if we miss our connection? What if we get to wherever and there’s no record of our booking? What if it rains? What if it’s too hot? What if one of us gets sick? What if there’s a power cut at home and my fish have no heat or filtration? What if we’re burgled? What if one of our family has an emergency when we’re so far away…
So I get you, OP.