As a travel blogger, of course I want to talk about the wonderful experiences we have on our travels rather than the not so great ones – although the latter probably makes for more interesting reading! Thankfully, it’s not often that things go wrong but here are some times it did. Can you relate to any of them?
The dirty hotel room
It was late evening when we arrived at our five star hotel. We checked in without any problems and were given the key to our room. Upon opening the door, I immediately spotted a black sock on the floor and a can of Coke on the table. The room had not been cleaned.
We went back down to reception to inform them only to be told there were no other available rooms and that we’d have to wait for them to clean it. We were furious. Worse was that they didn’t seem to be that apologetic. After speaking to the manager on duty and then speaking with another manager the next morning, they offered us a meal at their restaurant by way of apology. It turned out to be the best meal we had in this particular city and we’d never have eaten here if we’d not had the complimentary meal. It worked out well in the end but you don’t expect to check in to a dirty room in a five star hotel – ever.
*The photo below is most definitely NOT the dirty hotel room!*
The transfer that went wrong
Back in 2007 we holidayed in Thailand for two weeks and booked it through a travel agency (which shall not be named). The travel agent told us that we could easily get a ferry from Phuket to Krabi. Turns out, we found when we arrived in Phuket, that it was out of season for the ferry. So we had to pay a private driver £100 (which in 2007 was quite a bit of money) to drive us three hours to Krabi, our next destination. NOT impressed.
Losing my engagement ring
*Cries whilst writing this* We were in the Maldives in October last year and were playing volleyball in the water. It was really hot that day so I kept applying sun cream. When we got out, I picked up my book to read and suddenly realised my engagement ring was no longer on my finger. Cue, hours of searching with scuba masks and sobbing into the ocean. The resort managed to get hold of a metal detector but two days later we were leaving and the ring had still not been found. At least a part of me will always be in the Maldives… in this exact spot below.
There is a happy ending though – my husband bought me the same ring and gave it to me on Christmas day.
The excruciating massage
It was my husband’s birthday whilst we were in Thailand and I had booked us in for an Indian head massage at our hotel as part of his birthday present. I thought it would be like the massage you get when you go to the hairdresser, which is dreamy. Oh no… it was the most painful massage ever! I felt terrible for putting my husband through that and packaging it up as a gift!
Missing the main attraction
Years ago we had a two week holiday in San Francisco and Mexico and booked it through a travel agency (yes, the same one as above…). Whilst going through our itinerary I noticed that the travel agent had booked us tickets to Alcatraz on a set day. Thinking, ‘but what if it’s raining that day or foggy?’, I asked him to remove them, which he did. What he failed to tell me was how popular Alcatraz was and that you need to book tickets at least two weeks in advance so of course when we arrived in San Francisco, we couldn’t get tickets for love nor money. My husband has still not forgiven me.
The nightmare diversion
Years ago my husband had flown to Bologna to see his family for a long weekend and I was joining him the next day, landing Friday night. It had been snowing heavily and they had delayed my flight by almost three hours. We eventually took off to be told mid flight that we couldn’t land in Bologna and were being diverted to Venice. We landed in Venice at around 1am. It was freezing and there was nothing open to buy food or drink. To cut a long story short, the airline was so slow at organising buses to get us to Bologna that I followed some other passengers and got a train.
My phone was dying and I was desperately trying to get hold of my husband to tell him to meet me at the train station (he knew I was in Venice) but I kept getting the dialling code wrong. I got to the train station and went across the road to a hotel we always stay at (although weren’t staying there that weekend), burst out crying and asked them to call my husband who then came and picked me up. By this time it was midday on Saturday and we were flying home the next day at around lunch time. It was the most stressful journey I’d ever had.
What’s gone wrong on your travels? I’d love to know!