I Added One Extra Night to My Flight Home—I’d Do It Again

Three weeks.

That’s how long I had been traveling through Europe by the time it was finally time to head home.

The first two weeks were solo, making my way through Poland, Slovakia, Slovenia, Croatia, and Bosnia & Herzegovina. I was moving every few days, taking trains and buses between cities, checking into another hotel, unpacking just enough to make myself comfortable, and then packing everything back up again to move on to the next place.

Then I met up with my sister and cousin in Amsterdam for the final week of the trip, and for the first time in two weeks, I stayed in one hotel for an entire week.

It felt like a luxury.

I love moving around when I travel, especially on a trip like this where I wanted to experience several countries on my own. But there’s something to be said for reaching the point where you can unpack your suitcase, leave everything exactly where it is, and know you don’t have to think about another train or hotel check-in for seven whole days.

Amsterdam gave me that pause. We spent the week together, and then, like every trip eventually does, ours came to an end.

My cousin was flying home via Atlanta, while my sister and I were heading back to Philadelphia.

Except we weren’t quite heading home yet.

Months earlier, when I’d booked our flights, I’d found several options through Dublin. Some had relatively short connections, but one gave us enough time to leave the airport, spend the night in the city, and fly home the following day.

Sitting at home planning the trip, this had seemed like an obvious choice. Why would I take the quickest route home when I could turn the connection into another destination?

Of course, the person enthusiastically booking that flight hadn’t yet spent three weeks traveling through Europe.

By the time we were packing our bags in Amsterdam, I was looking forward to being home. We’d had an incredible trip, but instead of getting on a plane and flying back to Philadelphia, my sister and I were about to fly to another country, collect our bags, check into another hotel and spend one more night in Europe.

And yet, I already knew I wouldn’t have booked it differently.

Give me the choice between the sensible flight home and the one that lets me experience somewhere new along the way, and apparently I’m going to make things more complicated for myself every time.

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The Points and Perks Made Dublin an Easy Choice

Of course, I didn’t book the longer connection without first figuring out what that extra night would actually cost us.

One of my favorite perks of the Atmos Summit Card is the annual companion pass, and using it for our flights home made a lot of sense. We could fly from Amsterdam through Dublin and continue all the way to Philadelphia on one itinerary, which meant that even with the overnight stop, we’d eventually land at our actual home airport.

That matters to me. I’m perfectly willing to position to New York for the right flight and take the train home afterward, but after three weeks in Europe, having our ticket take us all the way back to Philadelphia was a very nice perk.

Then I checked hotels.

I still had an American Express Fine Hotels + Resorts credit to use, and the Conrad Dublin was available.

Perfect.

This was exactly the kind of hotel I probably wouldn’t have paid cash for on a one-night stopover, but the FHR credit gave us an excuse to splurge. The Conrad was near St. Stephen’s Green, breakfast was included with our FHR booking, and we’d be able to walk out the door the next morning and immediately start exploring.

For less than twenty-four hours in Dublin, that was exactly what I wanted.

Suddenly, the longer connection came together. We’d eventually get all the way home to Philadelphia, spend the night at a hotel I was genuinely excited about, and have enough time to turn a connection into one last piece of the trip.

From my couch, months before departure, it looked like a fantastic idea.

And to be fair, it was.

I just hadn’t accounted for how tired I’d be by the time I actually got there.

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Travel Doesn’t Always Go According to Plan

By the time we landed in Dublin, our ambitions for the evening were pretty modest. We were only there for one night, and the goal was never to “see Dublin.” We wanted to check into the hotel, walk over to Trinity College, maybe find a pub, and enjoy one last evening in Europe before flying home the next day.

Simple enough.

Then our luggage disappeared.

When we checked in for our flight in Amsterdam, I specifically confirmed that because of the overnight connection, we’d be collecting our checked bags in Dublin. So imagine our surprise as we stood at baggage claim watching suitcase after suitcase circle the carousel…except ours.

Thankfully, our AirTags showed that the bags had made it to Dublin. They were somewhere in the airport. They just weren’t with us.

After about an hour, everything was sorted out and we finally had our suitcases back. No harm done, but we’d spent considerably more time at the airport than planned, and whatever energy we’d had for the evening was quickly disappearing.

Once we checked into the Conrad, my sister and I performed what I’m convinced is a universal travel ritual. One person says, “We could just order dinner to the room…and then see how we feel.” The other immediately agrees, even though neither person actually wants to go out and neither wants to be the first to admit it.

So we ordered room service: a warm brownie sundae topped with vanilla ice cream and two ciders because, well…we were in Dublin. What we failed to notice was the size of the ciders. Neither of us are big beer drinkers, and these things were enormous.

Somewhere between oversized ciders, hotel robes, dessert, and talking about our favorite moments from the trip, our plans to go back out quietly disappeared.

And I wouldn’t change a thing.

Dublin could wait until morning.

A quiet morning walk through St. Stephen’s Green before exploring Dublin.

We Had a Few Hours—And No Real Plan

The night before, we’d both told ourselves that staying in was fine because we’d get up the next morning and actually explore Dublin.

So the next morning, Dublin was waiting.

One of the perks of booking through Fine Hotels + Resorts was breakfast at the Conrad, and it ended up being one of my favorite hotel breakfasts of the trip. Between the generous buffet and the made-to-order menu, we weren’t exactly rushing out the door.

But we also weren’t trying to squeeze an entire Dublin itinerary into a few hours. Our plan was simple: walk through St. Stephen’s Green, make our way toward Grafton Street, explore Trinity College, and see whatever else we happened to find along the way before heading back to the hotel for our bags.

We didn’t make it very far before I saw them.

Bright yellow Viking boats.

If you’re from Philadelphia, you might remember the duck boats we used to have years ago. I’d always wanted to ride one before they disappeared, so naturally I was intrigued by the fact that my first duck boat experience could apparently happen in Dublin.

We walked over to see when the next tour was leaving.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Any seats left?”

“Yep.”

Done.

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It’s Okay to Be a Tourist

Was it touristy?

Absolutely.

Did we wear Viking helmets while driving around Dublin before splashing into the River Liffey?

Also yes.

And it was so much fun.

When it was our turn to introduce ourselves, we mentioned we were from Philadelphia. Without missing a beat, our guide smiled and asked, “Whatever happened to your duck boats?”

I couldn’t stop laughing. Of all the places in the world, I wasn’t expecting to have a conversation about Philadelphia duck boats while wearing a Viking helmet in Ireland.

The driver was funny, wonderfully corny, and completely unapologetic about the whole experience. The tour never took itself too seriously, and neither did we.

I think we sometimes put too much pressure on ourselves to travel like locals. We skip attractions because they’re “too touristy” and go searching for hidden gems because they somehow feel more authentic. But sometimes the touristy thing is popular for a reason and travel is supposed to be fun.

That ridiculous yellow Viking boat we’d booked fifteen minutes before departure ended up being exactly the kind of fun we needed.

It became one of my favorite memories from Dublin.

We made it to Trinity College but left the Book of Kells for another trip.

Just Enough to Leave Me Wanting More

After the tour, we wandered down Grafton Street toward Trinity College. I wasn’t there to shop, but I loved walking through it—the architecture, the cafés, the people filling the street. It felt like we were finally getting our little taste of Dublin.

Although apparently, we did have time for a little shopping.

We stopped at Marks & Spencer and probably spent way too much time browsing the food aisles. My carry-on and backpack were already completely full after three weeks in Europe, which should have been enough to stop me. Instead, there I was walking around with a shopping basket, picking out snacks and trying to figure out where exactly I thought I was going to put them.

Somehow, I found room.

Eventually, we made our way to Trinity College and wandered through the campus. We saw the signs pointing toward the Book of Kells, but we knew we didn’t have enough time to visit.

Normally, I’m the person trying to squeeze in one more museum, one more viewpoint, one more attraction. This time, I was completely okay with missing it.

There was something freeing about knowing I wasn’t trying to “do Dublin.” We’d wandered through St. Stephen’s Green, accidentally ended up on a Viking boat, spent far too long buying snacks I had no room for, walked along Grafton Street, and made it to Trinity College.

That was enough to make me want to come back.

Eventually, we wandered back to the Conrad, collected our bags, and made our way to the airport.

Instead of ending with one long day of airports and jet lag, the trip had ended with hotel robes, oversized ciders, a brownie sundae, a Viking helmet, an unreasonable number of snacks, and a Sunday morning wandering around Dublin.

Not a bad way to end a vacation.

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Apparently, I’ll Never Learn

By the time we were heading to the airport, I was ready to go home.

And yes, the shorter connection would have been easier. We could have skipped the extra hotel, the missing-luggage adventure, and the additional day between Amsterdam and Philadelphia.

But then we wouldn’t have had Dublin.

I already knew Dublin was somewhere I’d eventually want to return to, but those few hours made me even more sure. Now I want a proper trip to the city—and more time to explore Ireland beyond it.

So have I learned that after three weeks of traveling, I should probably just book the quickest flight home?

Absolutely not.

Because I know how this is going to go. Months from now, I’ll be sitting at home planning another trip, looking at two flights. One will get me home faster. The other will give me enough time to experience somewhere I’ve never been before.

And Booking Me is going to think, Obviously, we take the second one.

Future Me may question that decision when she’s packing another suitcase, checking into another hotel, or wondering why she didn’t just go home. But she’ll probably be glad I did it anyway.

Sometimes the best destination on your itinerary is the one you almost flew right past.