Tuesday, 11/26
7 a.m. GMT: Arrive at Heathrow Airport, clear customs and collect luggage from baggage claim.
8–9 a.m.: Take the Heathrow Express to Paddington Station; then take a taxi to the hotel.
9–10:15 a.m.: Store luggage at the hotel, ask for early check-in and grab a light bite.
10:15–10:30 a.m.: Walk to the British Museum.
10:30 a.m.–2:30 p.m.: Explore the British Museum and have lunch.
3–4:30 p.m.: Visit Buckingham Palace, St. James’ Park and Victoria Memorial Garden.
4:30–5:30 p.m.: Explore Westminster Bridge, London Eye and Big Ben for photos.
5:30 - 6:30 p.m.: Return using the Northern Line to the hotel to rest.
6:30–8:00 p.m.: Have dinner at a restaurant near the hotel.
A week before my family vacation to London, I carefully crafted a detailed itinerary on my Notes app down to the minute. Tuesday, Nov. 26 looked seamless on paper — a flawless flow from Heathrow to Paddington, from the British Museum to Buckingham Palace, and on to the London Eye and Big Ben. With my mother and two younger siblings in tow, I envisioned a trip where every destination was ticked off like clockwork. But as the saying goes, life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.
The trip started to unravel the moment we landed. Heathrow was a maze, and by the time we cleared customs and gathered our luggage, it was already close to 8 a.m. — nearly half an hour later than I’d anticipated. Then came the Heathrow Express to Paddington, which — while efficient — didn’t account for our collective exhaustion. My siblings were cranky, my mom looked drained and I was glued to my phone, checking the clock and recalculating our arrival time at the hotel. The metro ride from Paddington to St. Pancras, then the walk in the cold from St. Pancras to our hotel made us even more fatigued.
By the time we dropped off our luggage, I realized we were hopelessly behind schedule. I tried to push us forward — “We need to be at the British Museum in ten minutes for our reservation!” — knowing very well that we were still adjusting to jet lag.
That’s when my mom put her foot down. “No Buckingham Palace today,” she said, “We all need to rest. There’s no point dragging everyone around if no one is enjoying it.”
Her words stung at first. I had planned this trip so carefully — how could she just scrap one of the highlights of the day? But as I looked at my siblings slumped over their sandwiches and felt my own fatigue creeping in, I knew she was right. Buckingham Palace, St. James’s Park and Victoria Memorial Garden were officially off the itinerary. Instead, we headed back to the hotel, skipping the grandeur of royal landmarks for a much-needed break.
That evening, I took some time to myself. This was supposed to be a vacation — a chance to bond with my family, not a military operation. The stress I had created for myself by sticking to the itinerary had robbed me of the joy of experiencing London. My mom must have noticed the tension in my shoulders as she gently said, “We don’t have to do everything. Let’s just enjoy the moments we can.”
The next morning, I slowed down. Instead of cramming our day with attractions, we focused on just one or two destinations. We woke up before twilight and went to the City of Love: Paris. At the Louvre, I gave myself permission to linger in front of paintings and sculptures, hieroglyphs and metalwork. My siblings were fascinated by the Egyptian artifacts. We even paused to people-watch while waiting in line to see La Joconde up close, sharing laughs about tourists snapping dramatic selfies.
That afternoon, we boarded the high-speed train back to London. It turned into one of the most memorable parts of the trip — the blur of the countryside, the naps in between and the snacks from the café car. I put away my phone and just enjoyed the ride.
The shift in mindset transformed the rest of our trip. In Cambridge, we strolled through the cobblestone streets at a leisurely pace, stopping at bookstores and souvenir shops. We went punting on the River Cam just as the sun began to set. The water reflected the pastel hues of the sky, and we asked the punting guide a million questions. He directed us to Jupiter, talked about each passing university building and bridge and sang a song for us. It was simple, unhurried and perfect.
By letting go of the rigid schedule, I began to truly experience the culture around me. I savored the buttery croissants in Paris without worrying about the next stop. I admired the intricate details of medieval churches in Cambridge. But the best part was connecting with my family in ways I didn’t expect — laughing at my mom’s hilarious commentary on quirky tour guides, swapping stories over meals and seeing my siblings’ eyes light up when they stumbled on something new.
A vacation isn’t about checking off a list of attractions or another micromanagement: It’s about the moments that stay with you long after the trip ends. The best experiences often come when you leave room for spontaneity. And as I learned to let go, I found something better than a perfect itinerary: a vacation that truly felt like one.
Linda Huang is a freshman from Rockville, Md. majoring in Biomedical Engineering. Her column celebrates growth and emotions that define young adulthood, inviting readers to live authentically.
