We were on our honeymoon when I first heard the rumbling of the midnight riders: men on mopeds bombing down narrow echoing streets, tearing up their tiny French town like a piece of paper. My worldly new husband explained that at the time cars were too expensive for most people in France, and this group of Mobylette owners apparently liked to party. 

“Uh, how do we sleep?” I asked, and not for the last time.

One of the delights of travel is stumbling on the unexpected, and coming home with stories of amazing finds. That hidden garden way off the beaten path and its incredible maze, or the nondescript roadhouse in the middle of nowhere with the mind-boggling menu. Learning how locals pick out their produce, the way they whisper over dinner—back home we like to, well, shout!

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But then there are the inevitable other surprises, like a bed with broken springs—at the top of seven flights of stairs (“sorry, no elevator”).

I do like to travel, but those unexpected details can get to me, even more so with age. I want The Perfect Trip. So the more I get out into the world, the more anxious I am about all the unknowns, Will it rain the whole time? Will others have discovered our favorite cafe, making it impossible to get a table? Will our hotel room be so small we’ll have to leave our suitcases out in the hall? Allow me to share some of my experiences with the finer points and how I’ve learned (somewhat!) to go with flow.

Surprise, Surprise: Dealing with Travel Snafus

How I wish there were a polite way to ask about sagging mattresses and whether you will have to drag yours off its frame and onto the floor to avoid permanent back damage. We actually did this once back when a petite Parisian hotel room was 25 bucks a night, room-service breakfast included. The poor woman who delivered our tartines and café au lait gulped at the sight of a bed frame propped precariously against the wall. As did we. I really do try to take care of as many details as possible in advance. 

Voyez-vous d’autres choses à me signaler? –that’s what a French friend taught me to say. Translation: “Is there anything else I’ve forgotten to ask?”

I learned this important phrase after I’d mastered enough French to book a room at a place called the Hôtel de la Cathédrale. The hotel certainly seemed well placed, at the center of a sleepy town in Alsace known for its rich cuisine. No sooner were we fed and tucked in when the ancient cathedral bells next door began to toll.

On the hour. Every hour. All…through…the night. What could the tollers have been thinking? Did Alsatians not yet own clocks?

The ancient cathedral bells next door to our hotel began to toll. On the hour. Every hour. All…through…the night.

Noisy rooms have been something of a theme for me. Once, we were with another couple when we arrived at “the town of the 99 fountains,” outside Rome. It was hopping. The tourism office helpfully pointed us to a motel on the outskirts, where we fell into bed, only to lie awake all night. The motel bordered the dog pound. This spot will remain forever in our hearts as “the town of the 99 barking dogs.” Try as I might, with travel, you must accept that there are some (even many) things you simply can’t control.

Funny You Should Ask: Trying to Screen for the Unexpected

Tactics I have tried include reading customer reviews before booking, which can be illuminating. Yet I often wonder why they don’t always mention the important issues. I’ve been known to try to do my own pre-booking investigation. For instance, I once chatted up the impatient owner of a basement rental in Washington, DC, before arranging a stay. In my efforts to find out what the rental came with, I did mention the nonexistent ice trays and salt shaker at another recent rental.  

“Is there anything like that I’ve forgotten to ask about?” I innocently inquired.

I tried to innocently inquire about the lodging, ‘Is there anything else I’ve forgotten to ask about?’

I’m not saying we got off on the wrong foot, only that when we arrived and started poking around, I found a dozen salt shakers sarcastically stashed in one cupboard, along with a dozen ice trays. While that “equipment” was appreciated, I can’t say why the owner failed to mention the humming heat pump, which ran 24/7 in his basement utility closet, 10 feet from our bed. Hmm. I forgot to ask!

Before You Book: My Opinionated List of Questions to Ask

Still, this got me thinking about some questions I would love to ask before making a reservation. For hotels and Airbnbs, these might include:

• How far will I have to walk to find coffee? Because I really need coffee in the morning, badly.
• How close to rattling elevator shafts and jingling ice machines will I be when I sleep?
• How late does the lobby bar stay open? Will I be able to “enjoy” the dance music from my room?
• Is this unit by any chance in the basement? Will I see any sun during my stay? Are we likely to hear “a bit of tromping” overhead?
• Are there any especially loud dogs in the neighborhood (I’m tempted to add, “with insomnia?”) An adjacent highway, fire station, or frat house?
• Which streaming services do you have? (Hey, I’m in the middle of “Hacks.”)
• Can I adjust the heating and A/C without watching multiple YouTube videos?

But then, there’d likely be another question I’d have to utter: 

• Hello? Hello? Are you still there?

Learning to Live With (Even Love) the Unexpected

Try as one might, a person can only manage so much when traveling (and in life, to be honest). To tell the truth, the funny hiccups that happen can have their rewards. I’ve been dining out on them for years and playing them for laughs. 

And for every little annoyance, there’s usually a delight. At Mr. Heat-Pump-What-Heat-Pump’s basement rental, we discovered a wonderful little patio in the back, just a few steps up and big enough for two people and a bottle of wine. It turned out to be a surprisingly endearing retreat after a long day of sightseeing.

I may have had some not-great night’s sleep here and there, but what I have come away with from traveling are discoveries and memories.

This brings me back to the real point of travel’s surprises du jour: There’s the upside of more important and lasting finds. Yes, I may have had some not-great night’s sleep here and there. But what I have come away with are discoveries and memories. From that very first trip to Paris, the exhilaration of being able to walk around at night (too iffy back then where we came from) and amazing picnics of peak-season fruit and ripe cheese. And the ability to offer friends travel advice. 

“Skip the town of 99 barking dogs,” we’d say with authority. “Go directly to Rome. And don’t miss the spaghetti carbonara at this little place we stumbled upon in the Trastevere. We’ll never, ever forget that meal or that night.”