THE TYRANNY OF THE BUCKET LIST.

Somewhere along the line, travel became strangely competitive.

People don’t just go on holiday anymore. They “do” countries. Tick off landmarks. Compare how many places they squeezed into two weeks. Return home needing another holiday to recover from the first one.

And increasingly, I think the bucket list is partly to blame.

Now don’t get me wrong — I understand the appeal. There are places in the world that absolutely deserve their iconic status. I still remember seeing Machu Picchu for the first time nearly 30 years ago and thinking, “Well… this really is extraordinary.” And revisiting it all those years later, I felt exactly the same.

But somewhere between “dream destination” and “competitive life admin”, travel has become oddly pressured.

People feel they should:

• see everything

• maximise every day

• fit in one more stop

• avoid “wasting time”

• and return with enough experiences to justify the long-haul flight.

Which sounds sensible in theory.

Until you actually do it.

Because the truth is, some of the most memorable parts of travel are the bits that don’t make it onto an itinerary spreadsheet.

The unexpected restaurant you stumbled into because you were too tired to keep sightseeing.

The extra afternoon you spent sitting on a balcony watching a storm roll in.

The conversation with a guide.

The train journey.

The place you nearly skipped.

The slightly aimless wandering around a city with nowhere particular to be.

Those are often the moments that stay with people longest.

And yet modern travel planning increasingly squeezes all of that out.

I see it all the time when helping clients plan trips. Perfectly sensible people gradually start constructing itineraries that would challenge a military operation.

Three nights here. Two nights there. Internal flight. Boat transfer. Sunrise excursion. Night safari. Early train. Another airport. Repeat.

By the time we’ve finished, I sometimes want to gently ask whether they’d actually like to enjoy any of this.

Because there’s a huge difference between an impressive trip and an enjoyable one.

And the irony is that experienced travellers usually understand this best.

They know that pacing matters.

That sometimes staying four nights somewhere instead of two transforms the entire feel of a holiday.

That there’s a point where “seeing more” starts actively reducing enjoyment.

That constantly packing and unpacking loses its charm remarkably quickly.

And that exhaustion is not actually a personality trait.

I think social media has amplified this too. We’re constantly shown highlight reels of people hopping between destinations looking impossibly energetic while apparently never experiencing airport delays, laundry or mild emotional collapse.

But real travel — good travel — usually has a rhythm to it.

Breathing space.

A sense that you’re experiencing places rather than simply collecting them.

That’s often what I spend most time helping clients with, actually. Not just where to go, but how to structure a trip so it feels good while you’re living it rather than simply looking impressive afterwards.

And sometimes that means actively removing things.

One less city. One less hotel. One less domestic flight. One more slow morning.

Not because I want people to see less.

But because I want them to enjoy more