I am a corporate traveller. I did not pick the seat, the layover, or the city — a calendar invite did. Somewhere over the Atlantic, on a flight I did not choose, I started writing it all down.
There is no ring light here. No "link in bio." No breathless thread about how a $1,400 hotel "completely changed me." I expense the coffee like everyone else, and I have slept in the same bad airport hotels you have.
This is a journal about real life on the road — written by someone who actually lives it, in different corners of the world, most weeks of the year:
- Flights — which cabins were worth the fare, and which were a tax on hope.
- Hotels — judged on whether the Wi-Fi, the shower, and the front desk actually work. Not the lobby flowers.
- Food — the meals worth skipping room service for, wherever I land.
- Tech — the gear I drag through security so a 13-hour flight does not feel like 13 hours.
My budget is comfortable, not delusional. I am in the seats and rooms a company actually pays for — not a sponsor's fantasy suite.
Because nobody pays me, nobody comps me, and there is nothing to sell you, I have zero reason to be polite. Overpriced is overpriced. "Iconic" is usually just marketing with a better travel agent.
No name. No face. No personal brand to protect. Just one over-travelled person telling you the truth, so your next trip is marginally less stupid than it could have been.
Welcome aboard. Mind the gap between the hype and the reality.