Holiday hell

In Competition No. 3067 you were invited to provide a tale of travel misery on behalf of a well-known traveller from the fields of fact or fiction.
 
The seed of this assignment was a column in the Observer called My Crap Holiday, which invited readers to share travel horrors: inclement weather, devil children, oven-like bedrooms, Arctic bedrooms, wardrobe–like bedrooms — you get the idea.
 
I had high hopes of this one but it clearly failed to light your fire, producing only a modest haul of entries. D.A. Prince’s Lucy Honeychurch was thoroughly hacked off with Florence: ‘If it wasn’t Cousin Charlotte twitching at every imagined slight and petty irritation or the Ancient Britons gathered over the boredom of boiled meats every evening, it was the Italians, jostling and shoving, loud and bad-tempered. Beastly, at best…’ And Adrian Fry’s Frodo Baggins won’t be recommending Mordor on Trip-Advisor. Otherwise, explorers — Marco Polo, Scott, Shackleton — were a popular choice.