Holidays were pretty much invented by the Victorians, from traditional trips to the seaside to far flung travel to the corners of the globe.  Travelling was considered to be deeply relaxing, a chance to get away from it all and a pleasure to cleanse the soul; doctors even prescribed it for the sick.  The upper classes regarded travelling as a luxury which one must partake to round the character.   The invention of steam trains made travel possible for the upper and lower classes and the first motor car allowed further travel, even if it was only four miles per hour to begin with! 

We have come a long way since then and travel is looked at a little differently today.  Whilst we all like to go on holiday, getting there can be a much stressed-over business.  From booking your flight to travelling to the airport, if you are similar to me it can be the source of many a stress-related scenario!

My own particular stresses start when booking the holiday - what comes first: flight or accommodation?  There have been times when I’ve booked a flight only to find that by the time I’ve searched for the apartment or hotel, I’ve missed out on the deal or it’s fully booked.  Queue panicked booking and disappointed travels.  I should mention here that I know I should book early, I do think about it – just never generally am capable of doing it!

Next is packing trauma.  I pack, well I say pack, I whittle my outfits down to 42 (14 x day, beach, evening) and plonk the items in the case.  Holiday looks require killer shoes, flip flops, sandals, deck shoes, stilettos, wedges…. Wedges: herein lays the problem.  I’ll pop the ten pairs of wedges that I absolutely need atop the pile of clothes.  Next my husband looks at the case and throws out two pairs of wedges, citing: “These are exactly the same as those, and those,” prompting a: “NOOOO!”  from me.   Clearly one pair is cork, one espadrille and one wood…morning, afternoon and evening!  Two more pairs are thrown out. 

Next stage is closing the case.  It won’t close – two further pairs of shoes don’t make it.  Then husband weighs the case, and another two are out. 

One of the least enjoyable parts of a holiday is travelling to the airport.  We are always late, (invariably my fault, following shoe trauma).  I’ve been allergic to public transport ever since a chicken sat on my knee in Bali (I have a similar story about a rat on a boat in Java).  Driving the car to the airport and airport parking makes for the least problematic mode of transport. 

We have check-in down to a fine art, passports – check, tickets - check, over maximum weight limit- check.  Much rolling of the eye’ ensues. Case is duly opened and my very favourite pair of Jimmy Choos discarded.  This is tragic.  Instead, I discard the contents of my handbag (travel pillow, destination travel guide, mindless novel) and literally wedge in the wedges.  Lesson is learned.  I will never do this again.  Because of my non-shoe-pre-pack I end up with one pair of squished Choos that I can’t walk in, and six odd shoes.  As a consequence I wear flip flops for the whole trip!

Once through security (having been searched and made to walk through the x-ray machine three times, “Yes, I wear jewellery, no I haven’t concealed anything in my shoe”) comes the joy of the departure lounge. The only way to de-stress is with smoked salmon and champagne, followed by duty free shopping.  Suddenly my stresses will be gone.  Fed, watered and smelling like the perfume counter at Boots, I’ll be in airport lounge heaven.  Alas this is not to be.  Five minutes in and the boarding gate is announced.  I’ve still not taken more than a mouthful of champagne.  Slightly delusional, I believe that the departure time means what time you should arrive at the gate, not the take off time.  Queue steam pluming out of husband’s ears and much huffing and running towards the gate.

Take off is not my favourite part though soon its gin and tonic, a snack and a film…ah!  This is when the holiday truly begins.  Having said that, the course of air travel never runs smooth and I have been on a variety of tumultuous journeys.  One flight lost an engine (terrifying), one was struck by lightening (ditto) and one passed over Cape Canaveral as the space shuttle took off (really quite exciting).  The moral of the story is research; plan and book early or maybe don’t fly with me.  I don’t make for the most stress free travel companion!

If you want a smooth start to your holiday then I get Heathrow parking specialists Purple Parking.  They offer a stress free travel advice section with tips for stress free travel from planning to take off.