Easier to Buy a Car Than to Book a Holiday: The Search for the Perfect holiday!

Choosing a holiday: honestly, it is easier to buy a car than to decide this.

We love to travel. And looking back at last year, we definitely made the most of it. We actually traveled four times.

It started in early March. We went to Málaga for a few days, just the four of us. It’s still my favourite city for a city trip. We went there specifically to celebrate that winter was nearly over and to soak up some much-needed vitamin D and energy.

Then came the "big" summer holiday in early July: Lanzarote. This was supposed to be our main and only vacation. But honestly? It was a letdown. The weather wasn’t great—not warm enough and incredibly windy.

Because the summer felt incomplete, we kept going. In late October, we did a blitz-visit to London. You can hardly call it a city trip because we only stayed for one night. The main event was the NFL game between the Rams and the Jaguars at Wembley.

And finally, the week after London, we went to Egypt with friends. This was a direct consequence of the disappointment in Lanzarote; we just needed to feel the sun properly one last time before winter. And that trip was absolutely worth it.
To bad these were the only piramids we did see. That will be for a next time!

But this year is different.

The Kitchen vs. The Holiday

This year, there will only be one big summer holiday. Not because we don’t want more, but because the money is simply better spent on renovating the kitchen. Priorities, right?

Kitchen vs. Cocktails
It’s a strange mental calculation, though. Every time I click on "Sea View Room" or "Private Transfer," a mental calculator starts running in the back of my mind. It subtracts features from our future kitchen. “Do we really need that expensive faucet? Maybe a standard tap is fine if it means we get better cocktails next week.” Every drink by the pool feels like I’m sipping away a potential new countertop.

The "Season Finale" Pressure

What makes this holiday extra special—and stressful—is that it might be the last time our oldest son comes with us. He turns 18 this year. Next year, there’s a good chance he’ll be off to Spain or Greece with his friends instead. And honestly, at that age, I would do exactly the same.

The pressure of the "Season Finale" Knowing this might be the last "full squad" holiday adds a weird layer of pressure. It feels a bit like the season finale of a long-running TV show. You don’t want a cliffhanger; you want a happy ending. If it rains, or the food is terrible, it feels like we messed up the farewell tour. I want them to look back and think: "Yeah, that was legendary," not "Glad that's finally over."

From kids’ clubs to nightlife

When you have kids, the way you travel evolves automatically. At first, you look for hotels with as much kids’ animation, children’s pools, and mini clubs as possible. The noisier, the better.

Then it shifts. There has to be a football pitch, water slides, action.

And now? Now the hotel needs to be within walking distance of a nightlife area—mainly important for the oldest. On top of that, there’s a four-year age gap between our two sons. Later in life, that won’t matter at all, but right now it sometimes feels like they belong to completely different generations, with very different expectations of what a “good holiday” looks like.

The Battle of the Alarm Clocks It’s not just about the location; it’s about the rhythm. A teenager who wants to explore the nightlife until 4 AM is generally not the same person who cheerfully appears at the breakfast buffet at 8:30 AM. Meanwhile, my youngest (and let's be honest, I as well) wants to make the most of the day. So now we are looking for a holiday that doesn't involve me dragging a grumpy 18-year-old out of bed, but also doesn't force the rest of us to wait until noon to start our day. It’s a delicate diplomatic balance.

And what about us?

The expectations my wife and I have are actually pretty simple:

• It has to stay affordable (remember the kitchen).

• Preferably a country where we feel comfortable renting and driving a car (Egypt was great, but driving there myself? No thanks).

• There should be something worth visiting within a reasonable distance. Normally each other day we do pick the rental car and visite the country.

Take Kos, for example. A beautiful island, a great hotel, and we know the place well. But if you want to visit something every other day and you’ve already been there a few times, you run out of options pretty quickly.

I enjoy playing with the boys in the pool—throwing balls around, messing about. I’m a fan of all-inclusive, but I still want to leave the hotel every now and then. And one thing is non-negotiable: sun. That’s the only real constant.

Choosing a holiday is like choosing a praline

Choosing a holiday is a bit like choosing a praline. You know what it looks like. You know what’s supposed to be inside. Everyone has an opinion about which one is the best. But in the end, only one thing really matters: you have to taste it to know whether it’s for you or not.

And that’s the frustrating part. You can’t taste a holiday upfront. Even among hundreds of positive reviews, there’s always that one review that makes you doubt everything. That one detail where you think: “What if that’s exactly what happens to us?”

Tab overload My laptop is currently groaning under the weight of open tabs. Four Booking.com pages. Three TripAdvisor reviews. Google Maps. And a random travel blog from 2023. At a certain point, you get pixel fatigue. All those azure-blue swimming pools start to look exactly the same. Was the waterslide in the first tab? Or was that the one with the bad reviews about the food? I honestly don't know anymore.

Going with friends… or not?

The last two summers we went on holiday with friends (like the Egypt trip). Their youngest son is one of the best friends of our oldest. Two great trips, no doubt about it. We’ll definitely check if they want to join us again this year.

But that also brings a downside: our youngest sometimes feels a bit left out. Playing with dad in the pool is fun. Playing with a friend? That’s a completely different experience. Last year, we even invited a friend to come along for him, but at the last moment, it fell through. A shame, because that could have solved a lot.

Help a father out

It’s not a world problem. I know that. But it’s still a tricky puzzle: taking everyone into account, realising that certain phases are coming to an end, and trying to make one more holiday that everyone will look back on with a good feeling.

So, I’m turning to the Hive wisdom. Does this utopia exist? A place in Europe (or close by) with guaranteed sun. Roads that are safe enough to drive on without a death wish. Walkable nightlife for an 18-year-old. But enough pool action and slides for a 14-year-old.

If you have the golden tip, please share it. You might just save me from opening another 50 browser tabs.

Have a great weekend,

Peter