Not that I’m one to complain, it’s not my nature, but the next time I have to fly to Europe … maybe I won’t.

Last week was my 20th annual visit to Europe and the flights over and back were nonsensical and unnecessary aggravation.

They used to say that “getting there is half the fun,” but unless your idea of fun is standing in a security line that barely moves for an hour, people sweating and swearing they’re going to miss their flight, then waiting in a whole other line for passport control on the return flight (they can’t do security and passport control together?), then they check your carry-on bag anyway, either the seats are getting smaller or my butt is getting bigger, then having your flight delayed and when you finally get there having to take a 30-minute jammed train into the city.

Fun!

We go to a couple different cities each visit. This year I picked Zurich and Geneva. Never been to Switzerland, big fan of Roger Federer. I had done my due diligence, checking out restaurant menus and “things to do in …” online. What I failed to click on was “cost of things to do.”

Too late, I discovered that the most expensive city in the world is a tie: Singapore and Zurich. In third place: Geneva.

You know how people say, “a burger is $50 in New York City?” First, it’s not true. OK, maybe at The Plaza or Four Seasons. But I live on burgers (my current go-to in Houston is the Hickory Burger at Mia’s Table) but I ate several very ordinary $50 and more burgers in Switzerland. That added up quick. I got a hunk of broken-off chocolate, about the size of a Hershey Bar at an “artisan chocolatier” in Old Town Geneva – $16.

Ken paid $65 for this cheeseburger and potatoes.Photo by Ken Hoffman

The upside of European travel

Here’s the best thing about being a tourist in Europe: the trains. Trains know what they’re doing, unlike air travel.

Flying from Houston to Zurich in the air was a blood pressure-rising, wallet-shrinking nightmare of delay and discomfort. Then the classic bit of comedy: arriving 15 minutes early but there’s a plane sitting in our gate so we’re going to sit here for 20 minutes.

Here’s a text from my buddy Dom who was flying from the U.S. to Croatia the same week.

“Our first flight was canceled for absolutely no reason other than the airline couldn’t get a crew. We could see the plane sitting at the gate. We had to scramble to find a different flight on another airline or we would miss our connection. It screwed up the start of our trip.”

Different story for us once in Switzerland. Going from Zurich to Geneva on a train was a joy of scenery and serenity. What a beautiful country.

Like most cities in Europe, the train stations in Zurich and Geneva are in the center of town. So there’s no long drive from downtown to the airport (like Bush-Intercontinental) and showing up two hours early, enduring security and drinking $6 Cokes and there’s no seats in the waiting area. And why is my gate always the farthest one in the terminal?

If the train in Europe is scheduled to leave at 10:15 am, it will leave at 10:15. You can arrive at the station at 10:14, hop aboard, no security check or seatbelt police. We took a side trip from Geneva to Lyon, France and they didn’t check our passports going or coming back.

Train seats are more comfortable, roomier, and farther apart. Trains generally have a diner car with decent sandwiches and stuff. You can sit by a window, get up and walk around if you wish without climbing over two other people. Nobody is reclining their seat into your lap so far that you can perform root canal on them. Spirit Airlines has the right idea — their seats don’t recline. Spirit Airlines doesn’t fly to Europe.

Ken’s no hotel European vacation

I love train travel in Europe so much that once a few friends and I did a 10-day, 10-city tour of the continent … no hotels. We slept each night in a couchette (bunk beds) on a train. We started in Paris, then off to Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Hamburg, Berlin, Budapest, Warsaw, Prague, Munich and Monte Carlo (I forget the order).

I planned an activity for us in each city. In Prague, it was the first coin-operated laundromat in Europe. In Hamburg, a tour of the sewer system. In Warsaw, the world’s largest flea market. In Budapest I arranged for Zsa Zsa Gabor’s nephew to take us the Gabor Sisters’ childhood home. It’s still in the family. I jumped up and down on Zsa Zsa’s bed.

Ten cities in 10 days, no hotels, is like that Jimmy Buffett song where sometimes you do things just to talk about them later. The no hotels bit was a strain of our durability and deodorant, even though we were able to take a shower each morning at the next city’s train station.

I remember in Warsaw, I was the first in the shower and flooded the floor. Water spilled everywhere. The cleaning person screamed at me and threw all of us out. At least I was the clean one, although I still had shampoo in my air when we left for breakfast at McDonald’s.