One of the things I thought would be the most difficult about long-term travel was laundry. While it’s proved to be a bugbear for T (who is convinced that me handwashing his stuff in a basin does not get it clean, and given the amount he sweats, he may have a point), but by and large, it really hasn’t been an issue at all – we just visit laundromats a little more often than the budget would like to.

Changing beds all the time? Nah. I’ve moved house a LOT. I can feel at home almost anywhere. Even three nights in the same place feels fairly settled these days. Taking time for a long shower/bath, to shave your legs and pits, and all that jazz, is luxury, especially after a long sweaty day.

We’ve definitely learned that we like to take things slow – as in, a couple of rest days a week, look for a range of travel resources and don’t rush things. Days where we aren’t on the go, when we don’t do much, if anything at all; veg out indoors or relax in a park, or catch up on blogging, work, or planning our next moves.

I’ve surprised myself with how well I’ve taken to long term travel. That said, the prospect of going home at the end of the year is now more comforting than depressing. I still fully intend to make the most of the time we have left – but the tide has turned.

In an alternate life, I could see myself doing the location independent thing. But I have a partner, and you know what? I want the house and garden and domestic bliss.

Dealing with travel burnout

Travel is hard. Real hard.

Spending almost all your time with one person, dealing with shitty transport and hole-in-the-wall digs … after awhile, it can get overwhelming. It’s beyond amazing to experience new places all the time, but on the flipside, the novelty eventually wears off (as I suspected), and you’ve got to actively work on remembering to be awed, humbled, and grateful. Living out of a backpack is incredibly freeing, but at times, frustrating. Not worrying about cleaning bathrooms/taking out the rubbish/paying the internet bill/filling up the car is freaking blissful, but replaced by poring over train timetables/Couchsurfing profiles/city maps.

Crowded trains and Mediterranean heat has proved the tipping point, for T at least – who is definitely more of a holidayer than a traveller.

What do you do when you or your partner are burned out on travel?

Slow down.

Luckily, our three-week HelpX stint (volunteering on an organic farm) came at the right time. Putting down light roots for a short time, eating home cooked food, and getting into a routine. There are challenges, of course – it hasn’t been as smooth sailing as I imagined – but that’s a subject for a future post.

Now I just have to deal with my other stressor – mini panic attacks about everything from running out of cash before November, finding a place to live when we get back, figuring out what to do with our crappy car, sorting out all the other little things that will need sorting, and just generally feeling overwhelmed about the future.

Thinking about visiting one of Greece’s gorgeous islands? (Santorini is a stunner.) You’ll probably be taking the ferry, since finding good deals on Greece flights is tough, in which case there are a few things you should know…

Greek ferries are frequently late

Do not be surprised if your ferry doesn’t show up until an hour after it’s supposed to depart. And obviously this only compounds as the day wears on – a late ferry in the morning has a domino effect.

I would recommend leaving plenty of leeway if you have, say, a flight to catch soon after. There’s nothing like the eruption of a boatload of people sprinting from the port to the train station in a desperate bid to make the last subway back to Athens for the night.

Sometimes the schedules are horrendous

I did a double take when I saw that an 8am arrival on Santorini necessitated a 1am departure from Athens. Super early or super late departures are inconvenient, to say the least. Book early to make sure the best ferry seats aren’t sold out.

Delicate stomachs, watch out

Perhaps like me, you get motion sick on cars, buses, and ferries (though for some reason trains never pose a problem for me). A friend recommended we take the slower Blue Star ferries as I get seasick. Bonus: they’re also the cheapest Greek ferry line.

But due to my own procrastination, we ended up buying tickets for one fast and expensive ferry to Santorini, and one slow, cheap ferry back to Athens. To be honest, although the turbulence was definitely less noticeable than on the faster Hellenic Seaways ferry, I didn’t feel all that much less sick (how’s that for terrible English?) and the trip took twice as long.

But at least the ferries are comfortable

Indoor arcade? Multiple restaurant options? Escalator onboard? It’s all part of the package at Blue Star. Choose from the wicker-type chairs outdoors on the deck (there are also some padded bench seats) though you’ll have to contend with the smokers, or an indoor cabin, with couches and padded chairs, little tables, power points and communal TVs.

With that done and dusted, and last year’s seasickness still fresh in my memory, I can officially say long distance sea travel is not for me, even though Greek ferries far exceeded my expectations for comfort.

What’s the longest ferry ride you’ve ever taken?

Modified from CC image, original by Flickr user bittermelon

Hotels are dead. Airbnb is the future. Everyone knows that, right?

Whoa there, Nelly. Hang on a minute.

It’s a nice picture, but I have to rain a little on the parade. For one, there’s the whole snafu about the legalities of renting out your apartment in some cities. And, more importantly, there’s the economics of it. Do apartment rentals stand up to the real test – the money saving one?

Maybe it’s the destinations that we’ve been visiting, maybe it’s the time of year that we’ve been visiting, I don’t know. But every time I’ve searched for an apartment rental in Europe – Amsterdam, Berlin, Rome – I’ve come up with nothing. In every case, it’s been just as cheap, if not cheaper, to book a budget hotel. So far, the big selling point of sites like Airbnb, Wimdu, 9flats, Housetrip, etc (that they’re cheaper than booking a hotel) have not panned out.

Here’s what I’ve noticed about apartment rentals:

They’re often less central. After all, not everyone lives bang smack in the city centre. I can handle the inconvenience, BUT…

The base rate is usually on par with the cheapest hotels, or higher. Granted, this may be because we only ever book places a few days or a week ahead.

You have to account for any extra fees they tack on, such as cleaning fees or fees for additional guests, and of course, the booking fees. These can add up quickly and tarnish what originally seemed like a bargain.

It’s a hassle. Going back and forth to confirm a booking. Getting directions. Organising a checkin time. All this is time-consuming. With hostels and hotels, all that info is right there on the site when you (instantly) book, and they have a manned reception desk around the clock.

I’ve tried. I really have. There have been a couple of instances in which I found fairly good deals, and jumped right in with an enquiry. The one time I booked through an apartment rental company, the host backed out on me a week later. (Anyone in NYC want to host a humble Kiwi couple in the last week of September? Expressions of interest are open!) Since then, I’ve sent a couple of other requests out for rentals in Italy, and never heard back. There are, of course, lots of listings that allow you to book instantly, but these were by request only.

Look, I LOVE the concept; I think the sharing economy is ace, and given that I’m a Couchsurfer, it’s not really surprising that I also support the concept of private rentals. Staying in a real local home, for less than a hotel! How much more authentic can you get?

But in my experience, if you’re looking for the absolute cheapest deal and are booking fairly close to your arrival date, hotels still seem to be the best bet. A recent Priceonomics study crunched the numbers and came out largely in Airbnb’s favour – surprise! Who’da thunk it? But upon closer inspection, it calculated this using hotel rack rates rather than the discounted rates (and who pays full price for a hotel these days?) that you can find on any third party booking site.

Of course, if you’re looking for somewhere more homey, perhaps with a kitchen, or for somewhere a bit longer-term (maybe a week or more), then maybe those extra dollars won’t really matter.

(Also, ICYMI: I played devil’s advocate in my last post, pitting hostels against hotels.)

Have you experienced the same thing? Would you rather pay a small premium for what you get? Or have you always found better deals through Airbnb?

Here’s the thing. I envisioned us heffalumping our packs around Europe this summer, crashing on couches and sleeping in seedy hostels.

This hasn’t actually eventuated, because finding hosts for two in summer, especially in the big cities, is a hard sell (unsurprising) and hostels aren’t necessarily all that cheap (possibly more surprising).

We’ve actually spent a lot of our time in budget hotels and B&Bs/guesthouses. And it’s a good thing, too, because hostels don’t usually have air con – and while I’m well used to T complaining about the heat during the day, when he cannot sleep properly at night, then Houston, we have a problem.

So, do hostels really save you money? As a single, sure. If you’re travelling as a pair, though, it all depends.

In some regions, yes. Take Salerno, in southern Italy. There, we found dorm beds for a mere 13 euros each (Hostel Koine, please stand up!). In Rome, on the other hand, dorm beds were in the 20s and up, while cheap hotel rooms started at around 40 euros. The cheapest private room we stayed in cost 19 euros in Athens (Hotel Neos Olympos, in a gorgeous old stone building), and although the area might have been a little unsavoury by some standards, the room was on par with what we paid 3-4 times as much for in Amsterdam.

Don’t always assume hostels are cheaper. All I can say is, do your homework before booking – it only takes a minute. When a cheap hotel room costs the same as two dorm beds, it’s an easy decision (at least for us). Just watch out for any extras like city taxes.

Sunflower Hostel in Berlin. Follow me on Instagram for snapshots along the journey

While hotels aren’t necessarily always more expensive, there are other things to take into account about hostelling. For example:

Catering facilities

Breakfast is a pretty common inclusion at both hostels and hotels. But as they say, you get what you pay for. Budget hotels are usually on par with hostels on the breakfast front. Reading reviews and looking at the overall quality of the establishment will usually give you an idea of how basic the breakfast is. Sometimes it’s barely worth getting up for – dry toast or a plain croissant– or it might be a little more exciting, say, meat and cheese, pastries and fruit, a variety of cereal. If you’re tossing up between a place with breakfast and a cheaper one without, odds are you’re better off saving your dosh and sorting out your own food.

BUT. Some hostels – not all, mind you – have a communal kitchen. In big hostels you might barely be able to get a look-in at the stove, but even having access to a fridge, microwave and sandwich grill can make a difference when you’re on a budget – and/or sick of eating whatever the staple local food is.

Privacy

Hostels offer a chance to meet other people (well, other travellers) from all over the world. Of course, your roommates might be exactly the kind of people you want nothing to do with, in which case you’re SOL. On the other hand, they might offer plenty of entertainment fodder, especially if they have a penchant for going out, picking up and bringing back random bug-eyed strangers to bed. Best case scenario, you bond well enough to drink beers and BBQ meat together.

Sometimes, though, you just need your own space. Room to make a mess, hog the shower, let it all hang out… Some guys might be okay with sleeping naked in a dorm room (yes, seriously), but most of us are not.

Certain hostels also offer private rooms as well as shared dorms, but they generally don’t offer any savings over a hotel room – and in fact can be more pricey.

Comfort

Let’s face it – hotels will always win out when it comes to facilities, even if you have to share a bathroom. And they often provide toiletries, which is a nice little perk and saves a tiny bit of unpacking.

Some hostels have fairly nice toilets and showers. Others … not so much. I reckon the best thing about checking into a hotel after a stint in hostels is lingering under a showerhead with decent pressure, in private.

And let’s not forget temperature control. For those who can’t handle the heat, dorm rooms sans air con or even a fan can be a real killer.

Extra charges

One thing that some hostels do charge for – and that hotels never do – is bedding. (Towels, too, but I’d hope you remembered to pack yours.) Sometimes it’s simply a matter of paying a deposit that you get back upon checking out and returning the bed linen, but sometimes it’s an extra fee on top. This, to me, is about as egregious as being forced to pay for water at a restaurant. I refuse to stay at a hostel where they require me to use their bedding AND pay for the privilege. We did stay at one Swiss hostel where they charged for linen, but at least you were permitted to bring your own, which we had. (Oddly, this was also the only hostel I’ve ever seen that allowed guests to use a sleeping bag. Most prohibit this for hygiene reasons.)

Don’t get me wrong – hostelling can be plenty of fun. I’ll be posting about some of our favourite hostel stays at some point!

What’s your take on hostels?

Unless you’re a megazillionaire, it’s probably safe to assume that both time and money are, to some degree, factors in your travel plans. As much as you’d love to explore every nook and cranny of this grand ole planet, some tough choices are going to have to be made.

One of the last couples we hosted through Couchsurfing spent just a day in Auckland before moving on south. As they bluntly put it, you don’t come here for the cities – you come for the outdoors. I accompanied them up to Matakana and Tawharanui, took them out for Thai food in Kingsland, and walked them around our newly invigorated waterfront. And while they originally wanted to drive west to Piha as well, they made the call to skip it after discussing it with us. Any local knows the two beaches are worlds apart … Tawharanui’s untouched, shining shores and Piha’s rugged coast … but in all honesty, the subtleties are probably wasted on time-pressed tourists.

I had every intention of visiting both the Amalfi Coast and Cinque Terre while in Italy. We have the time, and location wise, they both slotted easily into our itinerary. But here’s the thing. We have short attention spans.

Having recently experienced the tightly packed townships perched along the Amalfi Coast, I am just not sure we would really, truly appreciate the villages of the Cinque Terre. It’s an area that seems to cater more for hikers (and there’s a fee to walk through the national parks) which isn’t really our thing.

Equally important: T is feeling travel weary, and I’m loath to subject him to any more lengthy train rides than absolutely necessary.

No doubt Cinque Terre has countless charms of its own, and its brightly coloured tipsy topsy houses were right up there on my bucket list (Amalfi’s were very similar, though in pastel tones) but in this case, it might just be our Piha. Close, but no cigar.

Figuring out where to direct your days and dollars is an ongoing challenge as a traveller. How do you decide what attractions to shell out for? What sights are worth going out of your way to visit?

The one thing we almost unhesitatingly paid for was a ride on the London Eye – and it turned out to be a bit of a bust. We spent basically an entire day’s budget on tickets, something I definitely wouldn’t do again. Sure, the views were good, but not exactly life changing, and the queue to get on is one I’d rather not repeat.

Since then, I’ve become a bit of an obsessive Googler about any paid attractions that we’re considering. It’s a hard call, though. One person’s Louvre might be another’s Geordie Shore. You’ve just got to know your own inclinations and look at any reviews through that lens.

For example, people tend to be pretty divided over whether the Colosseum is worth entering or not. We decided not to, based on the general consensus that there isn’t enough inside to occupy you for more than half an hour or so. And given that a lot of the Roman Forum is visible from outside as you walk around the city centre, we felt validated by our choice pretty quickly. Of course, YMMV…

On the other hand, the Acropolis was worth every euro to us. The views alone from the top of the rock were astounding. Plus I’m more familiar with Greek classics than I am with Roman history; that sort of thing makes a difference. Hiring a BMW (or similar) in Germany is almost a requirement if you’re visiting…

…as is a gondola ride in Venice.

Splurging on a canyoning trip for T in Switzerland was also money well spent, as he came back absolutely thrumming with spirit and declaring it the single best experience of his life. That, my friends, is what money is for.

Sadly, there are many things we didn’t quite get to this time around. Places we’ve skipped include:

Scottish Highlands
Unfortunately, the tour company I wanted to book with was sold out, and we were only in Edinburgh for a couple of days. For about a minute, I thought we might be able to hook up with fellow Couchsurfers and share a car, but that didn’t pan out. Renting a car on our own would have been eye-wateringly expensive.

Neuschwanstein Castle
I know, guys. I KNOW. The ‘Disney’ castle! But our host didn’t have the time to drive us there, and we knew the bus tours would be absolutely chocka in July. We aren’t big on organised tours anyway, and for the price, it sounded like it just might end up being more of an ordeal than a highlight. Win some, lose some.

St Petersburg
Everything about getting to Russia sounded like a horrendous hassle. The visas. The flights (or a cruise). The money that would have been involved just didn’t add up, even excluding the logistical headache.

Spain
There were a couple of spaces in our itinerary that could have accommodated a whirlwind visit to Spain, but alas, these didn’t align with cheap flights.

How do you decide when to save and when to splurge on sightseeing?