Some of us are never satisfied. What’s more, what we would find quite acceptable or something we would turn a blind eye to in our own homes (because if we don’t, we would have to do something about it ourselves, wouldn’t we?) suddenly becomes intolerable when we are travelling.
This was evident on a recent trip to the United States when there were three of us to a room. We had gleefully signed up for “triple-sharing” with the tour operators, thrilled with the discount it got us, and before we left, we agreed amicably that we would take turns on couches/armchairs/the floor, depending on what came up at each stop.
But, naturally, we forgot all about the adjustments we were going to make and at each hotel — and there were about 15 of them — we looked around with a critical eye at the accommodation provided, the space to move around, the furniture, etc.
We should have been delighted that we never had to stretch out — or could not stretch out completely — on a lumpy couch, or take turns on a mattress on the floor because there were always two comfortable queen beds in the room, with foot-high mattresses to sink into after a long day of sightseeing.
Somehow, despite that luxury, we found much to complain about. “Okay, the bed is wide and bouncy, but why is it so close to the wall?” “Why are there only two chairs and one stool? Why not three?” “They know we’re in triple-sharing, they should provide another table to spread out our stuff ... where will we each keep our phones/cosmetics/toiletries?”
It didn’t matter that we were in those hotel rooms just to sleep. We were not planning to throw a party or get visitors over, so it really didn’t matter if we emptied everything on the carpet and let it lie there until the next morning — we seemed to think it incumbent on us to be dissatisfied about something.
We could easily have shut our eyes and gone over in our minds all the beautiful sights of the day, because the way the trip was organised, there was something spectacular at each place, but oh no, we had to pick holes in whatever was on offer — and discuss the shortcomings among ourselves and our fellow travellers the next morning, thus starting each day on a suitably “critical” note.
Then, to give us a taste of the “Wild West” we were lodged in quaint little log cabins for one night, with a rustic-style bathroom in which we couldn’t extend our arms without hitting the wall or the window or the washbasin.
We noted that although there were bunks for each, the blankets were way too flimsy to keep out the chill, the heater/air-conditioner was not in the best of health, if we tried to open our suitcases, there would be no room for us.
Anyone else would have looked upon all this as an adventure, but we had become pretty proficient at grumbling and each one waited for the other to start.
But then the unexpected happened: Where we were usually uncompromising about unpacking/bathing/changing, suddenly we were willing to let it go. We rolled our suitcases — unopened — into a corner. We used what we had in our backpacks for the night, we contemplated one of us climbing onto the rafters to give the others more space below, we suggested wrapping toilet paper around ourselves, mummy-like, to keep warm — and at last, the humour of the situation sent us into fits of laughter that kept the inmates of the adjoining cabin awake well past everyone’s bedtime.
Apparently, we had needed this small dose of “adversity” (relative to the comfort we had experienced thus far) to bring out the best in us.
Cheryl Rao is a journalist based in India.
