When Travel Angst Hits Hard
A name error on a ticket triggered the worst pre-trip stress I’ve had in 39 years. Here’s why—and what helped bring me back.
“If you can see your life’s work destroyed and get straight back to the grindstone, then you will be a man, my son.”
—Rudyard Kipling
Two days before departure, I had a moment that nearly tipped everything.
It hit me like a flash from above, during a casual chat with my new mentee from the Explorers Club. She was telling me about passport issues when entering Italy with her son. I absentmindedly glanced at our tickets to Bishkek—and saw I had made a huge mistake.
Because my girls have four names in their passports, one of Dana’s extra names had been automatically placed as her surname. I thought it would be easy to fix. Once the call ended, I called the travel agent. They couldn’t help. I called the airline—Ajet, a Turkish budget carrier—and they said they’d sort it out and call back the next morning. They did—but said they couldn’t help.
That’s when the travel angst kicked in. The worst I’ve experienced in 39 years of expeditions.
Travel stress for me always includes permits, oversized baggage, gear cases, fragile cameras, and this time—my daughters. (At least we’re not traveling with bicycles!) Normally, the anxiety fades once I’m on the plane. But we’re not there yet.
As always when the fever hits me: no sleep. It’s hard to breathe, to think, to calm down, to not yell.
Something I haven’t done in years—yell.
I did, two days ago. The girls said:
“Woow. That’s been a long time. You must be scared.”
Correct.
“It’s travel angst,” I told them.
In an effort to calm down, I turned to my AI journal companion—who knows me well by now—and asked: “Why does this happen every time I travel?”
It answered with uncomfortable precision:
Why Travel Angst Hits Harder Now
1. Loss of Control
You're an experienced expedition leader. You thrive when you're in charge—routes, gear, logistics, outcomes. But travel, especially when it involves flights, bureaucracy, local unpredictability, or relying on others, means handing over control. That can trigger anxiety.
Even more so when traveling with your daughters—your responsibility increases tenfold.
2. Perfectionism & High Standards
You care deeply about doing things right, both practically and emotionally. That also means your internal expectations are often high:
“Everything must be prepared.”
“The gear must work.”
“The story must be strong.”
“I must be a good father, a good filmmaker, and not miss anything.”
This kind of pressure easily breeds angst, especially in the final days when things feel half-baked.
3. Cognitive Overload
You juggle a lot—planning, logistics, gear, permits, filming, relationships, fundraising, media. Travel becomes the tipping point. Your mind gets stuck in loops:
“Did I forget the drone battery?”
“What if the horse doesn’t show up?”
“What if Dana gets sick on day three?”
4. Accumulated Experience (Trauma or Just Too Many Miles)
You've traveled hard for nearly four decades. Some of those journeys were full of stress, risk, or exhaustion. Even if nothing went wrong, the strain adds up. Your nervous system remembers.
5. Responsibility for Others
It’s not just you anymore. You’re a protector, a mentor, and an emotional anchor. That background hum of worry never turns off.
6. Post-Expedition Depletion
You know what the aftermath feels like: the long return to “normal.” Your body remembers that, too—and resists.
7. Pre-departure Vulnerability
The final days before a big trip are always hard. You’re between lives. Not fully here, not yet there.
A strange liminal space that stirs doubt and uncertainty. Normal—but deeply unsettling.
This summer, I’m taking my daughters to Kyrgyzstan for a new expedition—part documentary, part life chapter. We’re heading for the unknown.
BUT…
Yesterday, I calmed down.
As always under pressure, I started chasing solutions. I called everyone. Pushed hard. Then I did what I often do: shifted from pessimism to optimism. (Roughly 70/30, if I had to guess.)
I even posted an Instagram story tagging Ajet, explaining the name error—and how un-Turkish this kind of behavior felt. They responded immediately, called me, and after a long conversation, they agreed to help. At least with overweight baggage.
It’s a “we’ll-see-at-the-airport” situation—but there’s a chance.
And once again, I’m reminded that kindness always beats aggression. Always. On both sides.
Later that same day, a local Yemeni restaurant called me. They had heard about my Yemen days and invited me—plus three guests—for a free meal.
Travel angst will always be there.
But so will the unexpected kindness.
I hope the next essay comes from Bishkek.
Isn’t it strange … we plan our trips so far in advance, yet all the prep boils down to the last few days. Oversight. Have I done enough? Did I pack everything?
And guess what: one week into the journey you’ll be thinking, why did I bring all this stuff with me!😂