What are the worst things that have happened to you on your travels? You can help others avoid your mistakes -- or what the heck, just vent, you'll feel so much better!
21 travel nightmares
A broken back in the Amazon and other horror stories you'll be glad you don't have to tell: https://travelwithbender.com/travel-thoughts/experts/scary-travel-stories/.
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A true hotel horror story, from the age of service cutbacks: a little boy finds a used condom tucked into the sheets, blows it up as a balloon, and comes down with some unidentified infection in his mouth. This, of course, makes the stories of rampant bed bugs pale. Not to mention the occasional stories about black-light inspections of hotel rooms that reveal various icky substances over all kinds of surfaces.
How can hotels get away with this, to squeeze a few more pennies of profit out of their business? Shoujld there not be state inspectors running unannounced white-glove tests? How many people, and especially children, have to get sick or be eaten alive by bedbugs before something is done?
Why is this in horror stories? You'll see....
didn't turn out as expected -- ideally humorous. Also tips from savvy
travelers on enjoying holidays abroad. Responses should specify if
traveler was alone, on business, or with family. Include location, holiday,
and sentence or two on how things turned out.
Any juicy stories out there? Post them here!
Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, circa 1999. The fear of Y2K hung thick in the air as I drove around the foothills of the Smoky Mountains looking for the cheapest beds in town for Arthur Frommer's Budget Travel magazine. Let me say upfront, I LOVED Tennessee. The landscapes were spectacular, the barbeque was great, and most of the locals were living monuments to Southern hospitality.
However.
I should've known something was amiss at one particular out-of-the-way motel I pulled up to when I saw the torn screen on the door leading to the office. Not that I have anything against torn screens, but on a motel door, it conjures up images of the Mothman flying through in the middle of the night and throttling you in your sleep. Not a good scene.
Anyway, as I stepped in, a burly man in a worn plaid shirt looked up from whatever he was doing at the time and gave me a good once-over. I launched into my standard cheerful "Good morning, Sir, I'm here to review your property for Arthur Frommer's Budget Travel, and --"
Before I could finish the sentence, the man jumped up from his seat and roared at me: "Git the hayl off my property! If I could sue you f***ers I would!!!"
Well, I'd never received such a cordial welcome in all my life, so I promptly skedaddled before he could grab his shotgun. What was going through that man's mind? Had he been jilted by a travel writer? Had his dreams of writing for a glamorous rag been dashed in his youth? Or did he not want me to find the bodies? I'll never know, but I'll always remember the innkeeper in the plaid shirt as one of the more colorful bruises from my writing career.
But, I still really DO love to travel. Both business and pleasure. So I'm resigned to taking the good with the bad.
I was seated in a row directly behind an Orthodox Jewish family, and the father spent an inordinate amount of time davening and winding/unwinding phylacteries and other such accoutrements. That wasn't remotely the issue. It was the kids. While he was doing all this, and the wife sitting there smiling vacantly, right alongside them their little boy and girl were endlessly and loudly babbling, were were never buckled, and were literally jumping up and down on their seats like mini-trampolines. Then they started literally climbing over the seat backs, at several points sticking legs and arms directly in my face. A flight attendant came once or twice to ask the parents to exert some control, with little noticeable effect. The highlight came when suddenly the little girl leaned over and spewed all over her father's lap -- that added a pleasant little olfactory kicker to the whole sensory experience.
To add insult to injury, I was traveling with my small dog, who sometimes gets nervous on takeoffs and landings. So I zipped open his carry bag a tiny bit to reach in and scratch his head reassuringly, and a flight attendant, who was on a jumpseat nearby, said to me, "you're trying to get me fired, aren't you? That's against FAA regulations." I stared at her incredulously, motioned to the row in front, where the kids were still bouncing off everything in sight, and replied, "how many regulations do you think that's breaking?" Ah, the joys of mass travel in the early 21st century...