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Somewhere on my phone there is a folder of apps I downloaded “for a trip.” I could not tell you what half of them do. One I opened exactly once, in an airport, while pretending to be an organised person.…
I once booked a flight so cheap I mentioned it at dinner parties. Then came the checked-bag fee, the seat-selection fee, a taxi I hadn’t budgeted for, and a hotel that charged for the Wi-Fi its listing swore was free.…
I once bought a family-size bag of chocolate-covered almonds for a July drive, set it in the cup holder, and congratulated myself on my foresight. Four hours later I was prying a warm, almond-studded brick out of the plastic with…
I once spent an entire evening building the Ultimate Road Trip Activity Kit. Laminated bingo cards, a sticker book, and markers labeled “washable” in a font far too confident. Eleven miles out of town, the markers had found the upholstery,…
My first “real” hike was supposed to be an easy 5-kilometer loop. I showed up in sneakers I’d bought that morning, still creased at the toe, because I figured hiking shoes were a scam invented to sell hiking shoes. I…
Family holidays can be some of the best opportunities to spend proper time together, but they can also be surprisingly difficult to plan. A seven-year-old, a teenager and two adults may technically be going on the same holiday, yet their…
Last updated: July 2026 I once brought a hard-boiled egg onto a five-hour flight. Not because I particularly like hard-boiled eggs – I don’t – but because a nutrition blog once told me protein was the answer to everything, and…
My first pair of compression socks arrived two days before a fourteen-hour flight, and getting them on felt like wrestling a stubborn sausage casing onto each leg. I landed with my ankles still looking like ankles instead of the swollen…
Somewhere in Nepal, on a trail that Google Maps confidently insisted was a road, I stood ankle-deep in a dry creek bed watching my phone’s blue dot suggest I keep walking straight into a hillside. The route had washed out…
I have, on three separate occasions, booked an Airbnb that looked like a charming $58-a-night studio and watched it become a $91-a-night studio by the time I hit “Reserve.” I have let myself into a “boutique stay” via a keypad…
