How to turn bad travel advice into a travel success…after you’ve already departed

A little bird told me… there is no such thing as a bad time.

“The grass is always greener“. It’s an over-used idiom, and one that has no place when it comes to travel talk.

I understand that it’s highly likely someone will give you “travel advice” that proves to be utterly useless. I also understand that’s it’s likely some of us will follow the trail of a “magical location” that proves to be a total dud. These situations are inevitable and aggravating, but there’s a way around them. Let me tell you a story.

In November of 2006, I visited the charming town of Trinidad in south-central Cuba. It was a welcome departure from Havana as I was beginning to feel a little suffocated by the busy, tourism-oriented capital city.

I’d found what I’d thought was a perfect escape in the colourful town of Trinidad until I caught wind of “an amazing, seldom-visited seaside village” further west. Intrigued by tales of white sand beaches, crystal waters and friendly, welcoming locals, my travel mate and I did what responsible adventurers were meant to do and chartered an old Volga to take us to that desolate paradise.

As we drove along narrow, windy roads bordered by the beautiful ocean, we passed a multitude of towns, farms and similar pleasant landscapes that gave you the impression you were catching satisfying glimpses of a more “authentic” Cuba. All the while, we eagerly anticipated our arrival – could we possibly extend our stay in Cuba and hide out for a few days more in this mystery town?

Our arrival was rather jarring. The taxi dropped us off on a street that housed a row of colourful, single-story residences. There was no beach in sight, and the locals must have been having their siestas because there were not a single person in sight either. On first impression, this place was seriously underwhelming. We made our way to a local man’s home, and he grudgingly agreed to put us up for the night. (We felt somewhat comforted in learning that we weren’t the first visitors to have visited this particular location.) Once we were settled in, we eagerly packed our swimming gear and headed out to find the elusive white sand beach we’d been looking forward to. Let’s fast forward to what happened next.

Our quest for the white sand beach came to an abrupt halt when we discovered the region’s seaside offerings. There was a generous sandy strip, I’ll give it that. But that was it. What our travel advisors had failed to mention was that the beach was contained by an unsightly cement barrier that kept the pummeling waves at bay. Not only that, but this large barrier sat at most about a hundred meters away from the water’s edge, meaning that our views of the sunset would be obstructed. On quick inspection of the water, we discovered that it was teeming with sea urchins, making swimming virtually impossible. We went home, dejected and annoyed, where our grumpy host served us a stew that we thought contained strange bits of gelatinous meat. We guessed it to be sea cucumber, or jellyfish. To add insult to injury, we later found out that we’d been eating pigs’ intestines, but this naturally occurred only after we’d already eaten them.

What do you do on a similar occasion, when your trip ends up being a total bust? Do you get angry? Do you bemoan your unfortunate situation? And do you swear off listening to the travel tips that take you to make-or-break location and stick to the path that’s been clearly laid out by the guide books?

Here’s what I did: I soaked it up.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’d been expecting some sort of untouched paradise, akin to the idyllic island captured in The Beach. Taking into consideration the intestine feast and the sea urchin beach, you can imagine that I was severely disappointed. Interestingly, a good night’s sleep changed my – our – viewpoint by morning.

The next day, we strolled over to the beach again and sat and laughed at our predicament. We’d used up our travel allowance when we’d paid for the taxi to this desolate location, so we were stranded until we could make up the difference. The beach was excruciating, in the sense that it looked beautiful but that it was actually a virtual mine-field beneath the water’s surface. Undeterred, we decided to make the most of it. Our day was spent lounging in the sun, stealing coconuts from the surrounding trees and befriending the local mutts that patrolled the area. The highlight of our day came when a local fisherman approached us, offering an incredible home-cooked lobster meal that would be served right there on the beach. We’d already spent more money than we’d hoped to, but we had that defeated, “why not?” mentality to us and readily agreed. Best. Decision. Ever.

In hindsight, that little side-trip serves a good reminder, and most surprisingly, as a good memory!

I learned that you can’t always prepare for the bumps in the road less traveled, but you can learn to accept the sidetracks and make the most of them. Had I taken on a sour attitude, that trip would have been a virtual disaster. Instead, I looked at it as an inevitable and unexpected detour. I learned you can make anything fun, as long as you reframe it and look for the best in the situation. When I look back, that trip serves me as a constant source of laughter, and it’s a story I love to share. The trip itself may have been underwhelming in many ways, but in others it was so fulfilling. I think I became a more mature, accepting traveler because of the unexpectedness of the situation, and that’s something I still carry with me today. Pig intestines aside, I consider that trip a success.

I hope you can keep this in perspective when you come to face a similar situation.