I have hated traveling ever since I was a little kid.
My parents divorced when I was five years old and I was constantly in a car driving back and forth from one state to the next.
I saw my mom for a few days at a time and then I stayed with my dad. At that age I was so young I didn’t even have a preference, I just remember being sad from not having the chance to see both parents at the same time. It was sad knowing that I had to leave one house to go to another, and then being forced to rinse and repeat multiple times a month. What this did was create a hatred of travel in me from a really early age. I loathe it nowadays regardless of the reason. Even if I know I’m going to a wonderful vacation destination, the process of getting there feels like an endless nightmare. I hate the long car trips and the random hotel stays. Recently my wife and I stayed in a hotel while visiting her parents on the other side of the country. My wife was content with our accommodations, but I hated the air conditioner. My wife is a heavy sleeper, but I’m not. That hotel air conditioner kept me up all night whenever it started cycling. I might fall asleep for a few minutes but then I’d get woken up again when I heard the machine turn on. This went on for each night we stayed during our visit. By the time we were set to leave, I was a total wreck. I had barely slept for days and I was starting to get delirious. It just further cemented my hatred for traveling.