Travelling whilst Embittered

Aaron Kara
3 min readFeb 6, 2019

We’ve all seen the pictures of men and women, far more attractive then they have any right to be, sauntering around mountains and lakes taking pictures of themselves that highlight how oblivious they were when the picture was taken.

“Really — you took a picture? I didn't notice. I was just appreciating my beautifully presented lunch whilst the sun filters its golden rays through my naturally gorgeous hair on this rooftop restaurant overlooking the sea”

You think — “Hey, I can’t sit here being bitter. I need to get me some of that travel glamour. I’m a human being. I deserve love, attention, sex, chocolate, adventure and stories I can tell people to make them like me. Maybe this trip will give me all 6!”

Despite your best judgement, you book a ticket to somewhere’s-ville. You don’t want to but you buy a selfie stick, if you can’t beat ’em right?

You’ve booked everything. A week’s holiday in front of you. 8 years of savings gone.

You pack, that’s always a disaster. It’s not the action of packing, it’s the choices involved. “I’ll pack light” you say — don’t lie to yourself you reprehensible maggot. What if you shit yourself? Or worse, all of the clothes you bring make you look like a moron? So you pack everything.

Getting to the airport. What else is there to say? It’s an overpopulated nightmare. It doesn’t matter whether you travel at 11.00 o’clock on a Tuesday, everybody’s out in force to stop you getting to the airport in time. In fact, they ship people in from neighbouring cities just to fuck up your journey

You’re on a plane. 6 hours of impending doom. The plane is a metal box that’s launched from one part of the earth to another via explosion, fire and death. Have a relaxing flight.

Photo by John Ruddock on Unsplash

You land. Anywhere that constitutes the need to shit in an unfamiliar toilet for more than a day is a hell-scape of insurmountable magnitude.

You arrive at your air-bnb. The neighbours already hate you, you’re beginning to get a sore throat and you’ve already started to exhibit early symptoms of diarrhea. You didn’t pack your toothbrush, the prospect of using your index finger as an improvised toothbrush for the entirety of your holiday is so shameful you consider calling the whole thing…



Aaron Kara

Writer/actor/poet/idiot. Trying to provide light-hearted content and the occasional serious poem about life and stuff, but mostly stuff