Articles

The 30% Battery Travel Guide

Details

Category: General Information

Published on Saturday, 01 August 2026 14:40

Hits: 311

A realistic guide to travelling with chronic illness, the planning, the compromises and why I still keep booking the next trip. Travel is one of those things that feels effortless for most people, a few clicks, a suitcase packed and off you go. For those of us living with chronic illness, travel is a completely different kind of adventure. It’s exhilarating, yes, but it’s also exhausting, complicated and requires a level of planning that can leave you questioning whether it is worth it.

I love travelling. I love the excitement of new places, the thrill of tasting the local food and the moments that make life feel expansive and full. But travel with chronic illness is not just about the highs, it’s about navigating a delicate balance between joy and limitation.

Newletter Article - Aug 2026 - This article was featured in our August 2026 newsletter. This month's FMA UK newsletter blends personal stories of living with fibromyalgia, travel, fatigue, and a fundraising walk along Offa's Dyke with practical support offerings like yoga sessions, a support group, and a benefits helpline. It closes with a roundup of recent fibromyalgia research, from a major genetic study to early-stage drug and gut-health findings. Sign up here for future newsletters.

Planning is everything

Every step of travel requires thought. Flights, hotels, trains, even restaurants - all need careful research. Before any, I spend hours checking accessibility at hotels, planning how to move between locations efficiently, and arranging assisted travel at the airport.

Assisted travel is something I am fairly new to but it has been a total game changer. For years I resisted it. The thought of using a wheelchair and skipping queues just had me thinking that people would judge or question why I needed a wheelchair, why should I get to go to the front of the line or board the plane first. It took a firm talking to from a specialist to convince me to book it for the first time and boy, am I glad I did. At Manchester Airport the system is efficient - pick up a wheelchair and my husband can just push me through the airport. It makes the airport an exciting start of the holiday rather than an endurance test that makes the first few days of any holiday a write off.

It isn’t all great though. I still feel very vulnerable in a wheelchair. The feeling of not being in control of where I am going, the fact that you are invisible to others and the feeling of helplessness are still things I struggle with but I am working on it. There is also the varying degree of organisation at the airports you arrive into but that could be an essay in itself!

Scheduling downtime

Saying “yes” to experiences is part of travel but saying “yes” to rest is equally important. During my last big trip, to Vienna, I was brutally reminded how crucial pacing is, scheduling breaks or low energy activities in between the more taxing stuff.

I had planned our itinerary in advance, thinking that I had paced it well. I hadn’t. We had booked the train for a day visit to beautiful Salzburg on the fourth day of a five-day trip. This was a mistake. The morning of the planned trip my alarm went off at the designated time - early so I could have a shower (ha!), have breakfast and make it to the train on time. When that alarm went off I knew I was in trouble. I hadn’t slept well, I was in loads of pain and the fatigue was crushing. Cancelling the trip just wasn’t an option I wanted to entertain. Not only would I have been gutted, my husband would have been too, he would have hidden it and told me not to worry, but he would be missing out on a trip he was really looking forward to. So, I made the decision to dig deep and power through, with some adjustments to the day.

I skipped the shower (thank goodness for dry shampoo), missed breakfast and spent some extra time resting. We made it to the train on time and I took some of the journey time to snooze.

Once we arrived in Salzburg we booked a sightseeing bus instead of wandering around on foot as planned. My walk around the castle changed into just a ride up to it on the funicular and a quick look at the stunning views before heading back down. I cancelled the restaurant reservation we had for when we got back to Vienna just after 7pm and headed straight back to the hotel for room service in bed. It was still a great day - and I got to see the Sound of Music house - but it was very different from what I had originally planned. Lesson learned the hard way, once again.

There are things that I just can’t even kid myself that I can do - that means that amazing museums are out of the question, as are the many walking tours and hours walking leisurely through beautiful streets. This is my reality. Missing out on some “must-do” activities can feel disappointing, but it’s also a lesson in prioritising joy over obligation. The experiences I did manage to enjoy felt that much richer because I’d, mostly successfully, paced myself.

Knowing your limits

Travel inevitably comes with surprises: delays, queues, uneven terrain. For someone with chronic illness, these moments can be draining and affect the rest of the day or even the rest of the whole trip.

In Vienna, there was one activity that I just didn’t want to miss out on and failed to properly plan for. I wanted to go for hot chocolate and cake in one of the city’s famous cafes. I had left gaps in the booked activities so that I could rest and, if I felt able, we could be a bit more flexible and do some of the other things on our list. One of these gaps, we decided to fill by going to Central Café. I had left it too late to book and hadn’t anticipated the queue outside the door after the difficult ten-minute walk to get there. We queued, we caked, I paid for it in pain and fatigue but it was gorgeous.

Even knowing that travel will leave me exhausted and that flares are pretty much guaranteed doesn’t diminish the experience. It just changes how I approach it: pacing, adaptation, and redefining what “success” in travel looks like.

The joys are worth it

Despite all the planning, limitations, and flares, travel is something I cherish and refuse to sacrifice. From leisurely drinks in Vienna cafés to river cruises, to tasting local delicacies, these moments are why I still say “yes” to travel.

Whilst in Vienna we bus toured, we river cruised, we ate at the top of a tower in a revolving restaurant, we were serenaded by a musician in the oldest inn in the city, we ate at a three Michelin-starred gastronomic gem and took a Fiaker (carriage) ride through the city in the sunshine. It was pure heaven - Vienna, completed it - my way.

Travel with chronic illness is hard but it’s profoundly rewarding. Loving the journey doesn’t mean ignoring the struggles; it means enduring them and still seeking adventure in the ways you can.

In the spirit of always keeping it real with you, I was in a savage flare up for a week after we got back from Vienna. That was the cost of enjoying that trip. The pain and fatigue I experience after every trip does make me, for a second or two, wonder whether travel is really worth it - writing this and looking back at the photos of Vienna has strengthened my resolve that, yes it is worth it. I am currently planning the next one, Athens anyone?

For anyone traveling with limitations, I hope this look into my perfectly imperfect trip offers both validation and encouragement. Your experience may be different, your limitations unique but the lessons are universal: plan, pace yourself, and most importantly, cherish the moments that bring joy, however small they may be.

Flare and Flair