I am a tedious planner. I am not spontaneous and I hate surprises. I like knowing exactly what I’m supposed to do and when. This inclination prompts me to invest time and energy developing a plan before traveling anywhere. I spend hours finding bargain hotels, organizing a list of activities, and making reservations at highly rated restaurants after analyzing their menus and patrons’ reviews online. I even designate the acceptable coffee shops to visit because I cannot endure weak coffee.

It is true that I enjoy the research aspect of preparing for a trip, and I relish saving money. But the real value of the itinerary is that it prevents me from stunning disappointment; there’s something inordinately dissatisfying about eating at a subpar restaurant when visiting another city, and it’s deeply frustrating to show up at a museum only to learn that tickets must be purchased days in advance. This is all a long-winded way of advertising that I’m no fun, and you probably shouldn’t invite me on your road trip because I will worry about running afoul of the intended arrival time if we impulsively stop to look at something.

You should, however, consider recruiting me to help plan your travels. Naturally, I employed my skills in advance of a weekend trip with my boyfriend to Bath, England, which is only a short train ride from Oxford. Despite the miserable rainy weather, we visited the West of England Falconry conservation center to participate in a “hawk walk,” during which Charlie the Harris Hawk flew and landed on our arms. (The bird also enjoyed some time perched on our heads, where I assume he had a decent view of the scenic landscape.) I had the experience alien to Americans of standing in an ancient site; I visited the Roman Bath museum, a 2,000-year-old spa built by the Romans that still has hot water — although you do not want to touch the now-green water today. Instead of wading into the murky Roman baths, we relaxed at our hotel’s spa that was complete with a steam room, and I nearly finished reading The Vegetarian by Han Kang.

I hate to diminish the impressive architectural feats of the Romans or suggest that Charlie the Harris Hawk was unmemorable, but my favorite part of Bath was the food. I trusted many of the recommendations made by the YouTube channel Top Jaw, whose cinematic videos feature two British men conducting food tours. Thanks to their suggestions, I had some of the best meals of my life — and I won’t attempt to recreate the dishes because I know I will be disappointed. Unfortunately, I will spend many hot afternoons longing for the piña colada from Bath’s Dark Horse Bar. My most adventurous decision in Bath — which was hardly courageous — was ordering a dish with black pudding. (I had asked what black pudding is, and the waiter informed me it is pork blood, then reassured me the dish was excellent upon detecting my hesitation.) I confess that, after my first bite, I was reborn as a person who likes black pudding. 

As we ventured back to Oxford, my boyfriend commended me: “You picked good places.” Indeed, we did the things we intended to do without surprises, and we both left fulfilled, even eager to return. I will shamelessly take credit for organizing a successful trip, because if I hadn’t watched YouTube mini-documentaries or compared the hotels, the weekend certainly would have been less satisfying. Certainly, I could benefit from being a bit more free-spirited. But for now, I’ll adhere rigidly to my own meticulously designed schedules. Now, I face a challenging question: Where to next?