Four worst fictional holiday destinations

3 September 2018

By Kieran

I’m aware that the majority of you are just coming to the end of your holidays and packing bags for school/uni. I, however, I have completed my MA this morning and, rather than celebrate this, I felt I’d waste your time with 500 words or so. I’m looking through travel mags and airline sites to find a destination for a break that’s better than the following fictional offerings.

The Shire

A country break you say? Sounds delightful. At least, that’s what you’d say before you arrived for your serene weekend staying in Hobbiton and were greeted with a door frame that barely reaches your nipples. Sure the scenery is beautiful and unspoilt, the grasses lush and verdant but ultimately what is there to do? Even the residents have nothing better to do than steal turnips from Farmer Maggot. I’m sure that breakfast options are lovely but by the time you’ve had your second, fourth and seventh breakfast forced down your throat, I reckon you’ll be sick of the sight of sausage and pumpkin.


At first glance, the greatest of the nine realms looks like the perfect place to relax and take in some proper culture. And a place where, statistically, half the men look like Chris Hemsworth or Tom Hiddleston, you can’t complain. However, the manners of the local population leave a lot to be desired. First off, the guy who greets you at the gate is apparently watching you at all times. That makes enjoying the spa a lot more unnerving. Then, going to dinner, there’ll be a lot of smashing of goblets and flagons over frankly overbearing portions of a roast ox. Very uncouth if you ask me. Plus there’s a huge likelihood you’ll be horrendously murdered by whatever invading force attacks that week and that can really put a dampener on any holibobs. Trust me.

Hotel Bella Donna (from Mamma Mia)

Look, I like ABBA as much as the next man. As long as the next man is Alan Partridge. However, this doesn’t mean I want every single small aspect of my stay to be punctuated with some flimsy excuse to belt out a ditty from the Swedish pop band:

Me: How much does a Twix from the mini-bar cost?

Staff: Money, Money Money, must funny in a-

Me: OK never mind, anyway… how do I access the… err… adult entertainment on TV?

Staff: Does your Mother know that-

Me: Enough! I suppose I’ll have pancakes for breakfast, what do they come with?

Staff: Honey, Honey-

Me: Gimme Gimme Gimme another hotel recommendation, please.

New York. Like…at all.

Actual New York is alright. Of all the places in the US I’ve been, it’s the one I’ve hated least. Fictional NY, though… that’s a different story. If it’s not getting attacked by the Green Goblin, aliens or giant apes, Santa’s crashing his sleigh into central park. Even outside the supernatural, the city seems to either inspire or depress all its inhabitants and I’m not willing to take that 50/50 gamble. Gozer is fighting the Ghostbusters, the Muppets are taking Manhatten and there’s a giant peach skewered on the Empire State Building. Seem’s very stressful if you ask me.

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