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  • Sun, Sand & Sulking: Why Some People Just Can’t Enjoy Their Holiday

    Photo by Natalya Zaritskaya on Unsplash

    As we are nearing closer to the dreaded (for some) end to the glorious summer, we are taking this opportunity to discuss a topic that will most likely be relative to many of our readers. We are also SO EXCITED to introduce a brand new feature to the blog…‘Readers’ Rants’: where we hand the mic to you, our brilliant readers, to share your funniest, strangest and most infuriating real-life stories. A new monthly feature that gives a new lease of life to your ‘Whines of the Week’!

    There’s a certain type of traveller who’s so used to convenience that they can’t handle even the tiniest inconvenience. You know the type: the person who books an all-inclusive five-star resort in the Caribbean and then loudly complains the sand is “too sandy.” Or the one who spends thousands to “live like the locals” and then has a meltdown because there’s no oat milk and the shower’s cold.

    This is what we call the ‘holiday privilege bubble’ – when people forget the actual purpose of travelling is to experience something different. Different weather, different food, different vibes. Instead, some people treat “different” as a personal insult.

    Why the Privilege Bubble Exists (and Why It Pops Abroad)

    The “privilege bubble” isn’t just being spoilt – it’s a cocktail of habits, comfort zones and psychology. At home, our routines are slick and predictable: fast Wi-Fi, Uber in three minutes, oat lattes on demand, and customer service that bends over backwards to apologise for a two-minute delay. We subconsciously build a mental model that this is normal.

    Take that model on holiday, and suddenly nothing matches. Airport queues stretch for hours, the toilets are a paper-free lottery, and no one cares about your loyalty points. This mismatch between expectation and reality creates what psychologists call a frustration gap, and complaining is how some people fill it.

    In other words:

    • Comfort zones shrink abroad. When you’re used to everything running perfectly, imperfection feels like an insult. Some travellers expect everything to run like a Swiss train timetable. The moment something’s “late” they spiral and that’s the holiday ruined.
    • Loss of control triggers stress. Travelling strips away our ability to micromanage every detail. For some, that feels threatening. New languages, different customs, and strange food can make people defensive. Complaining is often just anxiety in disguise because anything outside the comfort zone is a struggle for some.
    • Social comparison ramps up. Seeing other people “glide” through travel (or appear to on Instagram) amplifies the sense you’re “doing it wrong.” Instagram sells us the dream of “effortless” travel. Reality is standing in a queue with your sweaty passport and needing a wee.
    • Complaining becomes a coping strategy and a force of habit. It’s easier to vent about the queue than sit with the discomfort of being out of your depth. Let’s be honest…some people moan at home, some people moan abroad. A change of scenery doesn’t change personality and certainly doesn’t change the habits of a lifetime!

    But here’s the good news: stepping out of the bubble is exactly what makes travel transformative. The delays, the queues, the “foreignness” all of it stretches your patience, your humour, and your empathy. In short, a popped privilege bubble is a good thing…even if it’s annoying at the time.

    Readers’ Rants:

    Welcome to Readers’ Rants, the corner of the internet where we hand the mic to you, our brilliant readers, to share your funniest, strangest and most infuriating real-life stories. This week? A Greek getaway, a private transfer, and one holidaymaker who simply could not stop moaning.

    “We’re on Holiday – No Rush!”

    The 3 hour flight was complete, just a little hop-over to Kalamata airport for our week’s girlfriend holiday in Greece, two-centered because that’s how we roll. Alight the plane into the beautiful balmy sunshine, down the steps, across the tarmac and into the building…the very small, very full building. But that’s OK – we’re on holiday – no rush. Join the queue to pass the eagle eyed women on passport control (why is it you always feel like a fraud). This queue is long. Very long. It’s not really moving at the moment – probably because it’s Greek siesta time! But that’s OK – we’re on holiday – no rush. Slowly make our way through and find our driver (for our private transfer – because…that’s how we roll!). 

    Oh, need a wee before we get comfy in a modern, air conditioned people carrier for our 45 minute journey to sun, sea, and SLEEP. Join the queue for the toilet – but that’s OK – we’re on holiday – no rush.

    ….and then, ‘that’ person pipes up “Well I shall never come here again. Queue for the passports, queue for the toilets….” WOW. Some people aren’t happy unless they’ve something to whine about. Babe, you have literally just arrived on holiday having left the very wet, very cold Blighty behind for a week…or perhaps even two…to relax under the warm sun (providing it’s not too hot for you), swim in the crystal clear sea (as long as it’s not too rocky for you at the shore line), wander along the sandy beaches (avoiding those blasted sea turtle nests cordoned off with old sticks and rope), feast on local cuisine (yep, that foreign muck), and drink glorious Sex on the Beach while watching the breathtaking sunset over the ocean (I don’t know why the cocktails have to have such crude names and blimey, you might have to put your cardi on). I know babe…call this a relaxing break?!?!? CHILL OUT my friend – it’s OK – we’re on holiday – no rush, no problem….just roll with it and be *grateful*.

    And P.S. those sea turtles need all the help they can get, because only 1 in 1000 will make it past infancy…and I bet they’re grateful!

    ZK x

    If you have a rant worthy of a read, no matter the topic, we want to hear it! Get in touch via our Contact Us page or via our Socials and you could be a feature on our monthly ‘Readers’ Rants’!

    Life Advice for Dealing With Privileged Moaners

    • Set Boundaries: Don’t let their negativity hijack your holiday mood. Nod, smile, escape to the bar. Learn to ignore them, because ultimately, it doesn’t affect you.
    • Find the Funny: Treat their complaints like background comedy. Use it as entertainment and a story to tell when you go home. “Too many turtles” is basically free inspiration for a stand up show.
    • Gratitude Grounding: When you’re tempted to join in the moaning, remember: you’re on holiday. You’re lucky enough to be travelling, to have escaped the gripes of everyday life, you are free to do as you please…don’t waste it being negative! Guaranteed as soon as you land back at home, you will long to have appreciated it more.
    • Strategic Earbuds: Music or a podcast can save your sanity in queues or on transport and drown out any grumbling. And hey, if it gets really bad, take out your earbud, pop it in said grumblers mouth like a cork and use passive aggression to your advantage… (Not my most helpful tip, but it would be a hilariously funny story!)

    The Bottom Line

    Travel is queues, waiting, and occasional chaos wrapped around unforgettable memories. You’ll never appreciate the sunset cocktails without the sweaty passport queue that came before. So the next time someone starts their “I shall never come here again” speech, remember: they’re stuck in their privilege bubble, but you’re free to roll your eyes, order another drink and stay safe in the knowledge that you are better than them.

    Relax. Be grateful. Take a photo. Help the turtles. And if all else fails, channel your inner Greek island vibe: “No rush. No problem.”

    On that note…

    🍷Today’s Wine Pairing is…

    Vinho Verde – Lago: This is light, fresh and citrusy! Perfect for those relaxed holiday vibes and a personal recommendation of mine!

    CHEERS!! To sun, sea and to keeping calm while the privileged moan around us. May your cocktails be cold, your queue short, and your patience endless!

    See you in a week!!

    H x

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  • Why Is Adulting So Hard? ~ The Myth of Being A ‘Grown Up’

    Growing up is massively overrated. Sure, adulthood has its perks – wine with dinner, no set curfews and the freedom to buy an entire Colin the Caterpillar cake just for ourselves. But those luxuries come wrapped in responsibility and expectation overload: bills, adult admin, financial pressures, social demands, and the constant illusion that we’re fully independent ‘grown ups’.

    Let’s be honest: most of us are just playing dress-up as adults. We still call our parents twice a day, drag a bag of laundry home every other weekend, and Google things like “how long does chicken last in the fridge?” on the regular.

    And don’t even get me started on the mysterious world of adulthood essentials. Everyone raves about a Le Creuset…honestly, is it a casserole dish or a French Impressionist?

    Sometimes, the only thing that makes it all feel bearable is the idea that we finally have the freedom to be and do whatever we want to, albeit in a slightly messy, chaotic, and fake-it-till-you-make-it way.

    So, let’s break down the myth of the fully functioning adult, from moving out of home to booking your MOTs…and figure out if any of us are really doing this “grown-up” thing properly.

    Going It Alone

    Ah, the thrill of your first flat. Freedom, independence, a kitchen that’s all yours. You imagine scented candles glowing, wine glasses clinking, and finally having that “grown-up” life you saw on Friends.

    Reality? You actually have to buy your own toilet roll. Nobody warns you about the ongoing cost of household basics – loo roll, bin bags, milk, all the things your Mum magically replenished while you were too busy complaining about being asked to unload the dishwasher.

    Shall we agree that the big step into adulthood and living ‘independently’ is basically just a newfound appreciation for your childhood privileges and the rude awakening that you have to pay for a TV license (we’ll have that debate another day, shall we).

    And then, there’s flat-sharing. Because let’s be real, living alone is a financial impossibility unless you’ve secretly won the lottery or inherited young. Instead of your dream of serene wine nights, you’re negotiating fridge space, side-eyeing the passive-aggressive “clean up after yourself” notes, and discovering that apparently some people do think an empty bottle and dirty plate counts as décor.

    Suddenly, your parents’ wisdom of “always keep bread in the freezer” hits harder than any inspirational TED Talk. And yes, you’ll still call Mum to ask if it’s safe to tumble dry your ‘nice’ jumper because you can’t work the symbols out on the label.

    Financial Independence (Or so they call it)

    Bills. Rent. Council tax. Broadband. Terminology that sounds made up to rip you off (seriously, what even is a mbps?). Suddenly, your monthly outgoings are swallowing two-thirds of your paycheck and you’re left budgeting your weekly shop like you’re on Come Dine With Me: Poverty Edition. Groceries are no longer about butcher’s meat and artisan cheeses – it’s Aldi’s finest frozen pizzas and the eternal hunt for a yellow sticker bargain.

    Then there’s energy bills. Not only do you have to pay them, but you’re also expected to read a meter. Why does the number look like a nuclear launch code? Do I have to do this every month? Cue – phone call to Dad asking about price caps and smart meters.

    Of course, someone then tells you to get a credit card “it’ll build your credit score!” Translation…you’ll rely on it just to make it to the end of the month. Gone are the days of Googling last-minute holidays to Greece. Now it’s “best savings accounts 2025” and “should I invest in stocks and shares?” even though you don’t know who or what a dividend is (sounds like a posh biscuit). Suddenly, £50 feels like a mortgage payment. Payday hits your account, you blink, and somehow it’s gone. The only thing that disappears quicker is prosecco at brunch.

    Then comes the “latte” realisation. You know the one; that smug article told you, “If you just stop buying a coffee a day, you’ll save for a house.” Correction! You’ll save enough for one week’s food shop and maybe a multipack of crisps. Property ladder? Don’t make me laugh.

    Adult Administration: GP Appointments, MOTs and Bin Day

    Let’s talk about the real boss level of adulting: life admin. Making your own GP appointment feels less like a phone call and more like launching a NASA mission. Gone are the days when your Mum would casually ring on your behalf, now it’s you, sweaty-palmed, rehearsing your symptoms in your head, only to be met with a receptionist who treats you like you’ve just asked for a kidney transplant. “No appointments until mid-2026?” Brilliant, guess I’ll just live with this rash.

    And then there’s the car. MOT, insurance, servicing…why does your little hatchback need more check-ups than a Victorian child in a Dickens novel? The moment it makes a weird noise, you do what every fully grown adult does: call your dad. His response? “Ring the garage.” Instant heart palpitations, sweaty pits, and the sudden urge to emigrate somewhere public transport actually works.

    Then there’s the joy of council tax and HMRC letters. Why do they insist on sending correspondence written in an ancient dialect only decipherable by hieroglyphics experts? Are you in credit, under paying, or have you accidentally funded a new government department? Nobody knows. You spend hours Googling tax codes and dreaming of a simpler life – like living under your parents’ roof again, with a full fridge and clean surfaces.

    Admin doesn’t stop there…bin day becomes a weekly game of Russian roulette. Is it general waste? Recycling? Garden waste? Why does everyone else on the street know instinctively while you’re wheeling the wrong bin out at 11pm in your slippers?

    And through it all, procrastination becomes a coping mechanism:

    • “I’ll book it tomorrow.”
    • “Tomorrow-tomorrow.”
    • “Okay, one more episode then I’ll do it.”

    …Cut to three weeks later: unopened letters stacked on the counter, the MOT reminder glaring at you from your inbox, and an overflowing recycling bin. Adulthood: 1, You: 0.

    The Illusion of Full Adulthood

    Here’s the truth: most of us aren’t fully functioning adults. We’re just functioning enough. Paying rent? Tick. Remembering to eat vegetables? Occasionally. Not crying in Tesco when a pack of ham costs £3.50? Next question…

    Independence is chaotic, awkward, and usually a “make do and mend” situation. You’re not alone if you still call Dad before buying tyres, or text Mum a photo of that rash (yes, gross, but she’ll know what to do). Being a grown-up doesn’t mean you’ve got it all figured out, it just means you’ve mastered the art of winging it.

    So, how do we survive the adulthood gauntlet without completely losing our minds?

    1. Embrace the small wins.
    Did you remember to put the right bin out? Paid a bill on time? Booked your GP appointment without crying? Celebrate. Adulting is a marathon, not a sprint.

    2. Keep a parent on speed dial…wisely.
    Asking for advice isn’t failure. It’s a good use of resources! Just maybe don’t call Dad at 11pm when there’s a spider in the bath and trust yourself that the chicken is actually cooked. I would suggest a calm, collected text message starting with “How are you? Please help me” and maybe attach a photo of today’s life dilemma for context.

    3. Budget like a (realistic) adult.
    Yes, groceries cost more than a cocktail at Happy Hour, and rent can feel like a mortgage, but spreadsheets, apps, or even a simple “envelope system” can save your sanity. Treat yourself occasionally, it’s not a crime and life’s too short. Wine counts as a utility if it keeps your morale high.

    4. Don’t fear the admin.
    Calendar reminders, auto-pay for bills, and writing down phone numbers and contact details for your GP, Dentist, Car Garage etc will reduce heart palpitations. Accept that some days it will still feel like rocket science, and that is perfectly fine. Best advice…become besties with Dave the mechanic, Jeff the postman who knows your weekly parcel deliveries by name, and the corner shop owner who now asks if you’re “eating properly.” Somehow, by leaning on a mix of persistence and pragmatism you’ll be alright.

    5. Make independence work for you.
    Moving out, managing finances, handling admin…it’s all practice. You don’t need to be perfect; just consistent. And if things go wrong, remember: you can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs and realistically, everyone else is winging it too.

    In short: adulthood isn’t about perfection. It’s about survival, adaptation, and knowing when to reach for the wine. You might never fully “grow up,” but you can absolutely live your version of ‘adult’ life in whichever way comes naturally.

    You Can Do It

    Nobody ever hands you a manual for ‘how to be a grown up’. The truth is that getting older means mess, chaos, expense, and sometimes just utter confusion. It’s a strange mix of responsibility, panic Googling, and pretending you know what you’re doing. Some days you feel like you’re barely scraping by, and other days you discover small victories; a fully cooked dinner with vegetables, a bill paid on time, or even a car that hasn’t broken down this week.

    In all honesty, no one really has it all together. What matters is that you’re learning, adapting, and laughing along the way. You’ll make friends in unexpected places; from your local garage to the corner shop cashier, and slowly, piece by piece, the chaos becomes manageable.

    The hope to cling to is that, somehow, completely inexplicably…we do it. We live. We laugh. And then we become the parents on the end of the phone with all the answers (or at least we become better at blagging it!).

    ON THAT NOTE…

    🍷Today’s Wine Pairing is…

    LAMBRINI – cheap, cheerful, slightly fizzy, and deeply nostalgic. The perfect throwback for when adulting gets too real and you just need to remember the days when your biggest problem was what to wear to the non-uniform day at school.

    CHEERS…to figuring it all out, eventually!

    H x

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  • Expectation vs Reality: Working From Home

    When working from home suddenly became the norm after COVID (throwback!), I think I had a very Pinterest-worthy vision in my head of what it would be like…effortless productivity, carefully laid out desk with a home-brewed coffee and a neatly scheduled diary ready to conquer the day. I would be brimming with motivation now that my soul-sucking commute was gone, and I hadn’t had to avoid the cleaner taking the best part of an hour to tell me about her husband’s knee surgery. 

    Reality, however, had a different plan. My ‘desk’ is a cluttered edge of a dining table, the dog won’t stop staring, the postman pops up hourly and my internet turns every Teams call into a guessing game…not to mention the social media and TV show distractions!

    By 5pm a glass of wine seems to be the most productive part of my day – welcome to the chaotic truth of working from home!

    🕒 The Dream vs. The Reality: Daily Schedule

    Expectation:
    I’d start work at 8:30am sharp after a leisurely breakfast, take stretch breaks, enjoy a short walk, and breeze through my morning tasks. I imagined preparing highly nutritious meals; overnight oats, smoothie bowls, balanced lunches full of colourful goodness, and feeling like I truly had my life together. Finishing on time with a sense of accomplishment.

    Reality:
    I roll out of bed at 10:30am, still in pyjamas, with coffee as my only real source of nutrition. The dog stares at me like I’ve personally failed him by not taking him out an hour ago. Laundry, dishes, and household chaos demand attention mid-email. Breakfast is whatever I can find in the cupboard that’s quick enough for me to still ‘appear online’. Lunch? Let’s just say it’s more crisps and leftovers than colourful salads. By late afternoon, I’m still staring at my task list, wondering where the day went, while Netflix whispers seductively from another tab.

    💻 You’re on Mute…Again!

    Expectation:
    Quick, efficient calls where everyone is on time, the WiFi works perfectly, and we stick to the agenda like professionals. A couple of polite, friendly chats to keep things human, no awkward silences, no frozen screens and maybe even a laugh or two before wrapping up early.

    Reality:
    Every call starts with the same five words…“Can you hear me?” on repeat like a broken record. The dog provides background vocals, barking at pedestrians as if defending national security, and I’m instantly regretting booking my supermarket delivery slot the same time as the postman arrives. The real dread comes when I hear that TEAMS call sound. It’s always when my hair’s in a towel, my eyebrows are missing, and I’m in my old S Club 7 t-shirt, complete with toothpaste stains. Or worse, I’m mid-binge at a dramatic point in my new show, and now is not the time for a one-to-one with Steven about Q3 targets. I enter the call with my camera off, silently praying he’s done the same. Then it’s all smiles, nods, and “mm-hm”s, mostly guessing if I’m agreeing, disagreeing, or just stalling until I can hit “Leave Meeting.” At least my pyjama bottoms keep me cozy.

    🪑 The Multi-Purpose “Office” (aka Kitchen Table)

    Expectation:
    A picture-perfect home office! We’re talking ergonomic chair, soft lighting, tidy desk, motivational quotes on the wall. A stationary drawer with pens, highlighters, and sticky notes organised like a tiny rainbow of productivity. A space that screams “I’m smashing this whole life thing!”.

    Reality:
    My “office” doubles as the kitchen table, snack bar, crafts corner and general dumping ground. Dog toys, unopened letters, toast crumbs and mystery cables all stage a hostile takeover of my workspace. My ergonomic setup? A dining chair with a cushion I optimistically call “supportive,” while my back files a formal complaint. On the plus side, the fridge is just three steps away – convenient for snacks, wine, and pretending I’m a responsible adult whilst ignoring the fact we’ve run out of milk.

    🍷 Wine O’Clock: The Real End of the Workday

    OK so working from home isn’t the Pinterest-perfect utopia I imagined. It’s a pyjama-clad circus, complete with a dog as the unofficial ringmaster and a calendar that resembles a battlefield. Yet here I am; caffeinated, occasionally productive, and somehow still employed. No commute, no awkward small talk, snacks and comfort always within reach. The small victories, like surviving a Teams call without freezing on a yawn MUST count for something. By 5pm, I pour a well-earned glass of wine, raise it to the chaos, and call it a triumph.

    Thing is peeps, life isn’t always the perfectly curated version we imagine…and thank goodness for that! If everything were flawless, life would be dull (and this blog wouldn’t exist…which in itself, would be a tragedy).

    On that note…

    🍷 Today’s Wine Pairing is…

    A light-bodied Gamay – Cosy, comforting, and perfect for the pyjama-wearing, multi-tasking reality of WFH.

    Let’s CHEERS, to a little self-deprecating humor, and living unapologetically imperfect lives

    ’till Tuesday folks! 🍷

    H x