What Did We Do On Our Holiday? The Reality of Modern Vacation Burnout

What Did We Do On Our Holiday? The Reality of Modern Vacation Burnout

We’ve all been there. You get back to the office, your coffee is lukewarm, and a coworker leans over the cubicle wall to ask that dreaded, three-word question: "How was it?" You find yourself stammering. You remember the airport security line. You remember the overpriced gelato that melted on your thumb in Rome. But when you try to answer what did we do on our holiday, the narrative feels fractured. Why is it so hard to summarize ten days of our lives?

Honestly, the "vacation blur" is a real psychological phenomenon. We spend months planning, thousands of dollars booking, and hundreds of hours scrolling through Instagram for "inspiration," yet the actual experience often feels like a series of logistical hurdles interrupted by brief moments of genuine joy. It’s weird. We’re obsessed with the idea of the "perfect" getaway, but the data suggests we're getting worse at actually enjoying them.

The Psychological Gap Between Planning and Doing

Most people approach their time off like a project manager. They have spreadsheets. They have color-coded pins on Google Maps. But there’s a massive disconnect between the "anticipatory self"—the person who buys the hiking boots—and the "experiencing self"—the person who actually has to walk up the mountain with a blister.

When we ask ourselves what did we do on our holiday, we usually default to a highlight reel. We talk about the sunset at Santorini or the steak frites in Paris. We rarely talk about the four hours spent trying to figure out the local bus schedule or the inevitable argument over who forgot to pack the universal power adapter. This is what psychologists call the "Peak-End Rule." Essentially, our brains don't remember the duration of an experience; they remember the most intense moment (the peak) and the way it ended.

Why our memories feel like Swiss cheese

It’s not just you. Your brain is literally wired to discard the "boring" parts of travel. Think about it. Do you remember the three hours you spent sitting on the tarmac in Newark? Probably not in detail. But you remember the exact smell of the salt air when you finally stepped off the plane in Tulum.

In a world where we are constantly "on," the transition to "off" is violent for the nervous system. According to research published in the Journal of Happiness Studies, it takes about eight days of vacation for a person to reach their peak level of relaxation. Most Americans don't even take eight days at a time. We do long weekends. We do "workations." We’re basically trying to squeeze a year’s worth of decompression into a seventy-two-hour window. It doesn’t work.

The Social Media Trap: Performing the Holiday

If we're being totally real here, a huge chunk of what did we do on our holiday is dictated by the camera lens. There’s a performative element to modern travel that is honestly exhausting. You aren't just eating a meal; you're staging it. You aren't just looking at a monument; you're finding the angle that hides the three hundred other tourists standing right next to you.

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This creates a "memory interference." When you focus on capturing the moment for an audience, you aren't actually encoding that moment in your long-term memory. You’re encoding the act of photography. Years later, you won't remember the sound of the waves; you’ll remember the struggle to get the lighting right for the "candid" shot.

The rise of "Quiet Travel"

Interestingly, there’s a massive shift happening right now. People are getting tired of the bucket-list fatigue. We’re seeing a surge in "Quiet Travel"—vacations where the goal is literally to do nothing. No itineraries. No "must-see" lists. Just a cabin in the woods or a quiet villa where the primary activity is reading a book.

I talked to a travel consultant recently who said her wealthiest clients are no longer asking for "exclusive access" to landmarks. They’re asking for "digital dead zones." They want to go somewhere where their phone doesn't work. They want to be able to answer what did we do on our holiday with a simple: "I watched the rain."

Breaking Down the Typical Holiday Itinerary (And Why It Fails)

Let's look at the math of a "standard" European tour.
Typically, travelers try to hit three cities in ten days.
City A: Days 1-3.
Travel Day: Day 4.
City B: Days 5-7.
Travel Day: Day 8.
City C: Days 9-10.

When you break it down, you’re spending roughly 30% of your "relaxation" time in transit. You’re packing, unpacking, checking into hotels, and navigating train stations. By the time you get home, you need a vacation from your vacation.

Instead of asking what did we do on our holiday, maybe we should be asking "how did we feel during it?"

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If the answer is "stressed," something went wrong. We’ve been conditioned to believe that "doing more" equals "better value." But travel is one of the few areas where the law of diminishing returns hits hard. After the fourth cathedral, they all start to look the same. After the fifth museum, your "art brain" shuts down.

The power of the "Third Day"

There is a sweet spot in any trip. The first day is usually a wash—jet lag, orientation, settling in. The second day is the "tourist rush." But the third day? That’s when you finally stop looking at the map. You find the local coffee shop where the barista recognizes you. You stop being a "visitor" and start being a "resident." This is where the real memories are made.

How to Actually Remember Your Next Trip

If you want to have a better answer the next time someone asks about your travels, you have to change your approach to the experience itself. It’s about intentionality, not intensity.

Stop trying to see everything. You won’t. Even if you lived in London for ten years, you wouldn't see everything. Pick one or two "anchors" for your trip—things you truly care about—and let the rest of the time be fluid.

Practical ways to anchor your memories

  • Keep a physical journal. Not a blog. Not a series of Instagram captions. An actual notebook. Write down the smells, the temperature, and the weird things you overheard in the park.
  • Limit your photos. Try a "one photo per location" rule. It forces you to look with your eyes first.
  • Embrace the mistakes. The time you got lost and ended up in a tiny village bakery is going to be a better story than the time everything went perfectly according to plan.
  • Ditch the "Top 10" lists. Everyone goes to the same ten places. Go to the eleventh. Or the hundredth.

The Shift Toward Meaningful Engagement

We’re seeing a global trend toward "Slow Travel." This isn't just a buzzword; it's a reaction to the hyper-consumerism of the travel industry. People are staying in one place for two weeks instead of hopping between five. They’re taking cooking classes. They’re volunteering. They’re actually talking to the people who live there.

When you engage with a place on a deeper level, the question of what did we do on our holiday becomes much easier to answer because the experiences are tied to emotions and relationships rather than just checkboxes on a list.

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Actionable Steps for Your Next Getaway

Instead of falling back into the trap of over-scheduling, try these specific tactics for your next break.

First, schedule "nothing" time. Literally write "Do Nothing" in your calendar for blocks of four hours. This gives you the freedom to follow a whim. Maybe you see a cool bookstore. Maybe you just want to sit on a bench and watch people. This "unscheduled" time is often where the most vivid memories are born.

Second, prioritize sensory experiences. We focus so much on the visual, but our brains are heavily tied to scent and sound. Buy a specific perfume or cologne for your trip. Every time you wear it afterward, the scent will trigger "autobiographical memories" of your time away. It’s a biological hack for travel nostalgia.

Third, stop reviewing your trip while you’re on it. Don't check your photos at dinner. Don't look at your Step Counter. Just be there. The analysis can wait until you’re back on the sofa at home.

Finally, change your metric of success. A successful holiday isn't one where you saw the most sights. It’s one where you returned feeling more like yourself. If you spent the whole time sleeping by a pool and you feel refreshed? That’s a win. Don't let the "hustle culture" of travel make you feel guilty for resting.

The next time someone asks what did we do on our holiday, you don't need a list of monuments. You just need a few good stories and the feeling that you were actually present for your own life. That is the ultimate luxury.