There’s nothing more frustrating that in inability to relax on holiday due to constantly being on the move. I used to blindly adhere to the adage that it was best to try and see as much as possible in the shortest time possible, but I’ve learned that it makes a shit-ton more sense to stay in one place for at least 3 nights, minimum. What’s the point of sprinting from destination to destination? Unless you’ve got a fetish for collecting snow globes from every shitty tourist attraction this side of Antarctica, you’d be better served to set up a base camp of sorts and actually relax.

After all, what’s the point of going on holiday if you feel like you’re an unpaid extra in The Great Race? (Side note, that’s the name of a classic film about an auto race from New York to Paris, not a NAZI propaganda film…)

So next time you’re on holiday, instead of constantly checking into your hotel at 8pm, tired out of your mind after a big day standing in queues at some shitty stone monument, only to check out at 6am to catch the next cut price shithole aircraft to the arse end of nowhere, how about staying a while? Go have dinner and read a book, you cunt.

/end (holiday) communication

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