From the Alps to the Adriatic. Whilst I was only 15 minutes on the ground in Zürich, I caught the mountains from above, then tiny islands as we came into Dubrovnik. Breathtaking views… pity my bags missed them. ✈️🌍✨🧳
What do We Expect
I’m only joking (sort of), but I’m pitching to the Sydney Morning Herald to take over their travel diary in 2025 as I set out on a journey through the Balkans, Spain and Portugal. If they don’t make me an offer I cant refuse, I’ll just write it myself, delays, lost bags, lucky escapes and all.
It’s my third trip overseas in as many years, and most likely my last for a while, so I’m determined to make the most of every delay, detour, and lucky escape along the way.
When you travel, you expect a few basics. Like getting on a plane more or less on time, and arriving at your destination with your bags.
My trip began with the first part missing. The flight was delayed not once, but every single hour until it was seven hours late.
Because of the delays I had to change flights, which made it nearly impossible for my luggage to keep up. But I was assured my luggage would still find its way through the connection and meet me on the other side. It didn’t. Thank God for AirTags, at least I know they’re still enjoying Paris while I’ve gone on to Croatia.
A Lucky Escape (Twice)
Here’s where I need to thank Monica Willis for her lightning talk about flipping the frame and looking for the positive. Because I had what I can only describe as two very lucky escapes on the plane.
I’d chosen to wear a white lace top, a very bold decision for long-haul travel, I know. But it made it onto the plane in one piece. The cabin crew handed me a generous block of Lindt chocolate, which I nibbled at before carefully leaving the rest on my tray table. Then I fell asleep.
When I woke, the chocolate had gone missing… until I realised I was sitting on it. A warm, melted mess. My heart sank. I could inly imagine what it looked like smeared across trousers and it wasn’t chocolate pudding. In full panic, I jumped up, dashed to the bathroom, and contorted myself inside out trying to check the damage. In all the chaos I forgot to lock the door. The poor woman who opened it got the shock of her life.
But the white lace top and my pink trousers survived. Flip the frame: lucky escape.
And then it happened again. I’d carefully packed enough makeup so I could step off the plane looking fresh as a daisy. But I hadn’t factored in air pressure. The moment I unscrewed my tube of liquid foundation it sprayed like a champagne cork. Makeup everywhere. And yet, somehow, that same white lace top was untouched.
Airports, Signs and Shrugs
When I landed in Paris, a gentleman from Qantas with a sign was waiting at the aircraft door to help me race across the terminal. A nice and very welcome touch. Except he couldn’t go all the way with me. Which is when I discovered the special hell that is Charles de Gaulle Airport.
“Gate 67? Not here. That’s another terminal.”
“Which way?”
Shrug.
Stressful first world problems. Half an hour between flights and no staff who actually knew where the gates were,. Clearly I must have done a very good job of looking like the helpless female, because complete strangers stepped in, pointed me the right way, and saved me from missing yet another flight. Meanwhile my bags were still sipping coffee in Paris, making absolutely no effort to join me. Airport signage, in my view, deserves its own circle of shame. Why don’t they hand out maps the minute you step off the plane, especially when you’re nine hours behind schedule?
Hotels: A Comedy of Lamps
And then, finally, you arrive at the hotel. Surely, you think, this part should be straightforward. A bed, a bathroom, and somewhere to plug things in. Instead, every single power point is already occupied by an army of lamps. And not one of them can be switched off in one go, you have to march around the room turning them off one by one, like you’re on lamp patrol and then you end up in the dark trying to avoid the trip hazards.
The bathroom offers a fixed-to-the-wall “don’t even think of stealing me” hairdryer, but no socket for the piece of equipment that actually does my hair. Which means dragging an extension cord through the room and hoping not to strangle myself in the process. Add to that the rolled up corner of the corner mat waiting just outside the bathroom and you’ve got a floor plan designed by someone with shares in the local hospital.
And then there’s the bed. Two singles pushed together, which is fairly standard. But in this case, each single comes with its very own single doona. It’s like the hotel is politely saying, “You may share a bed, but don’t get too comfortable about it.” Rolling over in the night becomes a tug-of-war with two entirely separate nations of bedding.
And my personal crusade: ban all hotel showers inside bathtubs. Especially the ones where you practically need mountaineering gear to climb in. Zero stars for those.
These days hotels are either drowning in gadgets that beep, flash, and demand Wi-Fi passwords… or they’re stuck firmly in the 20th century, clinging to the bath-shower combo and a single bedside lamp. There seems to be no middle ground.
Hotel Scorecard
💡 Lamps: everywhere taking up all the power points
⚡ Power points: none spare for humans
🛁 Showers in bathtubs: Still a thing
🚫 Trip hazards: complimentary carpet mat
🛏️ Beds: two singles + two single doonas = one diplomatic incident
Overall rating: 0 (From here on, I’m rating every hotel that puts a shower in the bath as zero. It should be a jailable offense.)
A few final thoughts. We live in a bizarre world of contrasts. On one side, people live in luxury and waste. On the other, people live in war zones, cant feed their families and children are starving.
And in between, hotels hand you glossy booklets about their “sustainability journey”, while cutting down trees to print them. A third of of us are living in excess, a third of us are pretending we’re being sustainable and a third are living in unimaginable horror.
#Travel2025 #BalkansTrip #SpainAndPortugal #FromTheAlpsToTheAdriatic #DubrovnikViews #LostLuggageAdventure #AirplaneViews #TravelDiary