Looking at the map, it really made a lot of sense. While traveling to the Black Sea coast of Bulgaria, I spent several days enjoying the summer sun. Lounging on the broad, sandy beach. Trying all sorts of local delicacies, which combine Persian, Greek, and Turkish traditions with homegrown ingredients and recipes. Touring the ancient agora, Acropolis, and Temple of Apollo in Nessebar’s lovely old town, a low-key, super-beautiful UNESCO World Heritage Site.
And for my flight out, I booked it from the closest big city’s airport, according to that map of mine: Bucharest, the Romanian capital. But getting there proved to be rather complicated. While it was only about 200 miles away, it turned out that Bulgarian and Romanian infrastructure weren’t integrated. Like, not at all.
No trains, and buses required many multiple connections (and an overnight stay, near the border). So I set up a private transfer with the first hotel of my trip. A little expensive, but no problem, right?
Details were scarce, but they told me to be ready at 9 a.m. On the appointed morning, a mustachioed man driving an aging, off-brand minivan pulled up in front. He spoke no English. But that wasn’t a problem. At least, at first. I napped in the back, and he steered that old van north as if he was on autopilot.
Until, that is, we crossed the border. It turned out that he didn’t speak (or read) any Romanian, either. And, it quickly became apparent, he had no idea where he was going. And had no working phone or GPS. Rolling down the window, the man started chain-smoking. His face was tense. He drove the wrong way down a one-way street. When I climbed into the passenger seat, he turned to me and spoke in urgent Bulgarian. To this day, I have no idea what he said. But the message was clear: I’m lost. Do you know where we’re going?
Roll With the Unexpected
Travel can make a mess of your best-laid plans. Months of meticulous research can be upended in a moment. A missed flight connection, a freak thunderstorm, a lost cabbie. You name it, plans change.
So over my years, visiting all seven continents as a travel writer, I’ve learned one key rule: Even when the wheels start to come off, do your very best to roll with it. Some of the best travel days, and stories, come from completely unexpected—and initially disappointing—circumstances.
Once, in Amman, Jordan’s bustling capital, I stood by a busy roadway at rush hour, trying to hail a taxi. No dice. But a silver Mercedes pulled over and asked me if I needed a ride.
Now, getting into random cars in the Middle East isn’t necessarily something I’d recommend as general policy. But that ride, with two chatty middle-aged men, became an informal tour, with the guys filling me in on history and contemporary affairs in the country. The royal family, politics, the economy. I learned so much—just going to the mall.
Another example: Sailing on an expedition ship in Antarctica, we anchored near King George Island. The plan for the next day was to fly everyone back to Chile from the island’s airstrip. But that didn’t happen.
A freak, severe blizzard blew in, covering the runway and eliminating visibility. The incoming flight couldn’t take off from Chile. We were fully, gloriously snowed in.
It’s a night I’ll never forget. Corks flew off champagne and wine bottles. People forgot about their messed-up international flight itineraries and delayed returns and instead danced in the wind and falling flakes. An epic snowball fight on the stern deck provided a fitting finale to a big night.
Flexibility Creates the Best Travel Stories
And then there was that time I decided to visit Albania. I knew little about the country before I arrived, booking the ticket at the last minute, right at the airport. It just sounded like an interesting place, and I’d never been there. My planning process for this Balkan nation consisted of a few Google searches and a certainty that I could figure things out once I was on the ground. My itinerary was basic: visit the capital and its closest beach town.
But that first night, Albania played Serbia in a qualifying match for the upcoming Euro Cup. The game, being contested in Belgrade and broadcast on screens in Tirana’s Mother Teresa Square, ended quickly after a brawl broke out on the pitch. The masses gathered in the square took it as an excuse to party, and I joined in, visiting nearby pubs and, frosty mug in hand, doing my best to sing along with their national songs.
Eating a late-night cheeseburger, I got into a chat with an Albanian-American man. I told him my plans. He told me, a little angrily, that they weren’t good. If I stuck to the plan, he said, I’d be missing out on the best his country has to offer.
He took my notepad and wrote down a list of much better sites to see in his beloved country. The next day, I found a taxi driver with a friendly face, and he agreed to drive me everywhere. We visited archaeological parks with ancient Illyrian ruins, where I was the only visitor. At lunch, I met the taxi driver’s family and friends. That night, I slept in a hotel literally built into the face of a cliff facing the Ionian Sea, Italy just on the other side. It was so much better than I’d planned.
And back in Romania, in that off-brand minivan, we did make it to Bucharest. I fiddled with my phone, finally finding a SIM card that worked. He continued to smoke, asking me to show him the directions on the phone every few minutes. Still, we made several wrong turns. And for a few moments, we blocked most of the lanes in the main traffic roundabout in Bucharest.
He dropped me off, and I paid him. Did he ever make it home? I’m not sure.
It was all a little stressful at the time, and perhaps an air-conditioned, high-speed train would’ve been smoother (had it existed). But going from Bulgaria to Romania the hard way gave me a great travel story, one I still tell to this day. And a reminder that when you’re on the road, no matter what happens, do your best to just roll with it.
A Few Tips
When it becomes clear that the original plan is now impossible, switch to alternatives quickly. If you continue to waffle and regret, you’ll spend your time in limbo—a bad place to be on any trip.
Seek expert advice. Depending on the situation, explain it to the concierge, the train conductor, the airline agent, or whomever might be helpful, giving them the full story. And ask them: What would you do? They’ll almost always have useful and helpful suggestions.
It’s all about perspective: A ruined plan is really just a chance for a new adventure, if you choose to see it that way. And the best travel stories always spring from broken plans.
