How Not to Travel

Don’t rent a car.

Just. Don’t.

First, it’s prohibitively expensive, especially if you’re taking a car one-way across country lines. Plus, if you want an automatic, instead of a manual, and decide to spend the extra $20 to upgrade to a premium car to handle the steep mountain roads, you’re just asking for problems.

In Dubrovnik, the husband ordered a premium automatic. He got a Jaguar. With Croatian plates. That we drove out of Croatia and into Serbia on our way to Sarajevo. What could possibly go wrong, you ask. Well:

  1. You’ll stupidly trust Google and after crossing the border and take a left turn that ends up being a dirt road that takes you past a compound with armed men in sweat stained t-shirts and camo pants. They don’t look happy to see you.
  2. Your husband will tell you take pictures to document this detour, only you’re worried you may be arrested. You also hope Google is tracking your location and will provide it to the proper authorities should you not show up at your next location. You also wonder if Google will be liable for what happens to you.
  3. Your husband casually mentions he’s not sure if the diesel fuel gauge shows empty or full. You notice the signage that says there are mines should you go off the road.
  4. You remind yourself that you love your husband. And the kids in the backseat who are watching their tablet belting out songs from Frozen, oblivious to any peril.
  5. You’ll breathe a sigh of relief once you get on main roads and think everything is ok, although you make a promise to be more understanding of your children going forward because life is too short. That promise lasts about twenty minutes when they start whining again about how long they’ve been in the car.
  6. Three and a half hours into your four hour ride, your husband takes the mountainous turns too fast and your car-sick kid WILL puke. In the Jaguar a little. On your shoes a lot.
  7. Your husband will finally drop off the you and kids, puke-stained and exhausted, at the Airbnb and return the expensive, Croatian car to the rental office at the Sarajevo airport, only to be pulled over by the secret police on suspicion of smuggling drugs. The jokes on them though. He was only smuggling a puke-smelling seat.

So, yeah, take it from us. Don’t rent a car. 


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