(*Not actually scientific at all)
Look, I’m going to tell you something revolutionary: 11 days is the perfect length for any trip. Not 10 days (you amateur), not 12 days (you overachiever), but exactly 11 days. Why? Let me break down this totally arbitrary but completely convincing argument.
By day 7, you’ve done all the stuff you were genuinely excited about. You know, the activities that made you book those flights in the first place. Your Instagram story is fire, your parents are impressed, and you’ve eaten at all the places Anthony Bourdain once whispered about.
Then day 8 hits. Suddenly, you’re standing in front of your hotel room mirror, realizing you haven’t had a properly crafted espresso in a week. Sure, that charming local café makes great coffee, but it’s not YOUR coffee.
By days 9 and 10, you’re deep in the trenches of what travel experts* (*me, just now) call Souvenir Panic Shopping Syndrome. You know those “authentic local markets” that every guidebook raves about? Yeah, you’re not there for the culture anymore. You’re there because you’ve run out of actual activities and suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to buy decorative magnets for every single person you’ve ever met. Including your dentist.
Let’s be honest: Nobody needs another snowglobe from a city that doesn’t even snow. But there you are, on day 10, seriously contemplating buying one because “it’s different here.” It’s not wanderlust anymore; it’s wanderlust’s clingy cousin – shopping-out-of-boredom-lust. You’re not a tourist; you’re a professional souvenir hunter masquerading as one.
And those remaining activities on your itinerary? You’re still doing them – oh, you’re doing them alright. But let’s be honest: you’re now in “bucket list mode.” That cooking class you’re taking? You’re there because “when else will I learn to make authentic local cuisine?” Spoiler: You’ll never make it again. That obscure museum about the history of local postal services? You’re only there because it was on your spreadsheet.
This is why day 11 is perfect for departure. It’s just enough time to feel like you’ve thoroughly explored a place, but not so long that you start contemplating whether you could have your espresso machine shipped to your hotel. It’s the sweet spot between “living your best travel life” and “I just spent three hours comparing local versions of potato chips I’ll never see again.”
Ten days? That’s for people who don’t commit fully to their vacations. Twelve days? Now you’re just showing off. But 11 days – that’s the gold standard of travel duration, sitting perfectly between “I need another day!” and “I can recite the local grocery store’s floor plan from memory.”
So next time someone suggests a different trip length, just show them this completely unscientific but passionately argued blog post. And remember: the perfect vacation is like the perfect espresso – it’s all about precise timing. And no, that “traditional” coffee-making apparatus you bought on day 10 will never replicate it.
P.S. If anyone has successfully traveled with their espresso machine, please start a support group. Some of us need it.