What’s the Worst Travel Experience You’ve Ever Had?

I’ve had some pretty interesting vacations over the years, but one family trip out west stands out as a real winner. We were going to Las Vegas, driving to San Diego, visiting the Grand Canyon, and eventually flying home to Philadelphia.

Sounds like a nice vacation, right?

Well, it was. But it also turned into one of those trips where just about everything that could go wrong did, with a few pleasant surprises thrown in.

It all started when we landed in Las Vegas.

Now, anybody who knows me knows I’ve always loved a bargain, especially when it comes to thrift shops. I had picked up a nice pair of shoes for next to nothing, and I was pretty proud of myself.

Until I stepped off the airplane.

All of a sudden, I felt something strange under my feet. I looked down, and both soles of my shoes were coming completely apart!

Apparently, the rubber had dry-rotted, and the shoes had decided that Las Vegas was as far as they were going.

Every step I took, the bottoms flapped open like a couple of duck bills. Here I am walking through the airport with my family, trying to look halfway respectable, and my shoes are falling apart right in front of everybody.

My daughters thought it was hysterical.

I wasn’t quite as amused.

But things were about to improve considerably.

We arrived at our hotel in Las Vegas, and as we were walking through the casino with all our luggage, I spotted a quarter slot machine.

Now, we hadn’t even checked into our rooms yet, but I couldn’t resist. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a quarter, dropped it into the machine, and gave it a pull.

BINGO! $750!

Twenty-five cents into $750, and we hadn’t even unpacked a suitcase!

Suddenly, there’s all this excitement, coins coming out of the machine, people looking over, and my three daughters standing there with the luggage, waiting for Dad to finish collecting his winnings.

They weren’t old enough to gamble, but apparently they were old enough to stand around watching their father make a spectacle of himself.

I was having a wonderful time.

They just wanted to get to the room.

Looking back, I should have realized right then that the $750 was probably going to be needed later in the trip.

Our next adventure was renting a car and driving from Las Vegas to San Diego.

Now, remember, this was before GPS, cell phones, and some sweet little voice telling you to turn right in 500 feet.

Back then, you had a road map.

One of those enormous paper maps that you unfolded across the entire front seat and then spent the next 20 minutes trying to fold back up.

Naturally, somewhere along the way, we had a disagreement about directions.

I was convinced I knew where I was going. Everybody else was convinced I didn’t.

And the more I insisted we were going the right way, the more suspicious everybody became.

There’s nothing quite like driving through the desert with three daughters questioning your navigational abilities.

Of course, as any father knows, the worst thing you can do is admit you’re lost.

So I wasn’t lost.

I was just taking a more scenic route.

Eventually, we made it to San Diego, where I had planned something really special for the family.

I had booked us into the famous Hotel del Coronado on Coronado Island.

Now, this wasn’t just any hotel. This was one of the most historic hotels in America, a magnificent wooden structure that had been around since the 1800s. Presidents had stayed there, famous people had visited, and movies had been filmed there.

I was really looking forward to impressing my family.

And believe me, at $600 to $650 a night back then, I expected them to be impressed.

We walked into the hotel, and I was taking in all the beautiful architecture and history. I couldn’t wait for my three daughters to see where we were staying.

Then we opened the door to our room.

It was small.

Actually, it was very small.

And within about 30 seconds, my teenage daughters started complaining.

“THIS is our room?”

“It’s so small!”

“Where are we supposed to put everything?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Here I am, spending $650 a night to put my family up in one of the most famous hotels in the country, and all they can talk about is the size of the room!

I’m explaining the history, the architecture, the famous movies, and they’re looking at me like I just checked them into a broom closet.

I probably could’ve taken them to a Holiday Inn for 50 bucks, thrown in a swimming pool, and they’d have thought I was Father of the Year.

So much for impressing the kids.

We also visited the Grand Canyon, which was absolutely spectacular. If you’ve never seen it in person, it’s something you really should experience.

But eventually, the vacation came to an end, and it was time to fly home.

That’s when things really went downhill.

We arrived at the airport only to discover that our flight back to Philadelphia had been canceled.

Wonderful.

After going back and forth with the airline, we learned that the only way they could get us back to the East Coast was to fly us into Washington, D.C.

Washington!

Not Philadelphia. Not even close.

But we were tired, we wanted to get home, and at that point, we would’ve taken just about anything heading east.

So we flew to Washington.

Now we had another problem. How were we going to get from Washington to Philadelphia?

Somebody suggested hiring a limousine.

Well, that sounded pretty good to me. After everything we’d been through, at least we’d get a comfortable ride home.

Except the limousine turned out to be an old, beat-up sedan.

And somehow, our entire family had to squeeze into this thing.

I ended up in the front passenger seat while everybody else was crammed into the back. There was barely room to move, let alone get comfortable.

And the price for this luxurious transportation?

FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS!

Five hundred bucks, years ago, to ride from Washington to Philadelphia in a car that looked like it had seen better days about 15 years earlier.

I sat in the front seat the entire trip, listening to everybody complain about being cramped in the back.

And all I could think about was that $750 jackpot in Las Vegas.

Apparently, the casino had just been helping me finance my trip home.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, we made it back to the Philadelphia airport, where our car was parked.

At last! We were almost home.

Except for one little problem.

Nobody remembered where we parked the car.

Not me. Not my wife. Not one of the girls.

Nobody.

And remember, this was before those wonderful little key fobs where you can press a button and hear your horn beep from three rows away.

Back then, if you forgot where you parked, you were on your own.

So there we were, exhausted from traveling, dragging our luggage around this enormous airport parking lot, going up and down the rows looking for our car.

“Wasn’t it over here?”

“No, I think we parked on the other side.”

“Are you sure this is even the right lot?”

After about 20 minutes, I was beginning to wonder if somebody had stolen the car.

After 30 minutes, I was almost hoping somebody had.

It took us nearly 45 minutes to finally find the darn thing!

Think about that.

We had flown across the country, driven through the desert, visited San Diego and the Grand Canyon, survived a canceled flight, flown into the wrong city, and paid $500 for a miserable ride back to Philadelphia.

And now we couldn’t find our own car.

By the time we finally got home, I don’t think anybody wanted to hear the word “vacation” again for quite a while.

But here’s the funny thing.

All these years later, I don’t remember much about the meals we ate or the things we bought.

But I sure remember those shoes falling apart.

I remember winning $750 with one quarter.

I remember spending $650 a night at the Hotel del Coronado and having my daughters complain about the room.

And I’ll never forget that $500 limousine ride or wandering around the Philadelphia airport parking lot looking for our car.

You know, we spend a fortune taking our families on vacations, hoping to create wonderful memories.

And years later, what does everybody remember?

Everything that went wrong!

But I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything.

Although I will say one thing.

The next time I win $750 in a casino, I’m putting $500 aside for the ride home.What’s the worst travel experience you’ve ever had?

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