How to plan rest days on your holiday, without feeling guilty about it

Nobody hands out medals for this. There's no trophy for being the most exhausted person at the Eiffel Tower, no certificate for limping through three museums before lunch, no leaderboard for Most Blisters Collected in a Single Afternoon. Which is worth remembering, because a lot of us plan holidays as though we're going to be scored on them.

Rest days are what make the rest of the trip work. Skip them and your big sightseeing day turns into six hours of gritted teeth, fatigue, and brain fog, which isn't the memory you were hoping to bring home.

If the phrase "rest day" makes you twitch, call it something else. A slow adventure day. A spa-for-the-soul day. My own preference is the "I am basically royalty and royalty doesn't rush for anyone" day.

A holiday stops being fun when you're running on fumes. Pushing through the pain doesn't make you brave, it just makes you miserable in an expensive location.

How we schedule rest days

Don’t wait until you’re about to collapse! Build them in before you leave.

• Every other day works for some people. Others can do two or three “out and about” days before needing a break. Know your rhythm. It's worth being honest rather than optimistic; you can always add more to your schedule.
• Always add buffer time around big excursions or flights — those will zap your energy faster than you think.

Ours goes roughly like this. The first day in any new place is a rest day, always. That's what we need to recover from the travelling itself and get comfortable in the new space. After that, one activity per day. If a day involves a full-day excursion, or anything unusually demanding physically or mentally, the day after it is automatically a rest day. We also leave buffer time around flights and big outings, which drain far more than you expect them to.

Signs you need one anyway

Best laid plans sometimes aren't enough. Sometimes the signals are subtle, sometimes they smack you in the face:

• The fatigue creep: when coffee stops working and you’re basically a zombie in a sunhat.
• Pain flares whispering “hey, slow down”, before they start screaming it.
• You’re snapping at your travel buddy for, I don't know, existing?

Here’s our trick when grumpiness hits: take 5 minutes to check in with yourself.

• Do a mini body scan: gently flex each muscle group, notice each joint.
• Ask yourself: is this situation manageable or am I about to regret ignoring it?

Do this twice a day, and especially before and after sightseeing. It’s like a little weather report for your body.

What a rest day can look like

Spoiler: it’s not just “lying in bed feeling sorry for yourself.” Though if Netflix in bed is what you need, do it proudly.

Start by working out whether you need physical rest, mental rest, or both. Then shape the day around the answer. Some of the options:

• Slow breakfast → gentle stroll → hours of people-watching.
• Lounging by a pool, shady park bench, or your hotel balcony.
• Tiny adventures that still feel special: a local café, a short ferry ride, or a museum with lots of seating.
• Light entertainment: a show, live music, or comedy night.
• Sidewalk café life: order all the appetisers and pretend you’re a food critic.
• Spa day: hammam, massage, or learning the local language by trying to follow the conversation at a walk-in nail salon.

And if you do venture out, stay within 15 minutes of your hotel. Easy escape routes only!

Some of our favourite rest days

1. Flotation tanks – Juan’s personal miracle. They reduce his pain, boost mobility, and give him total mental rest. For an hour, he doesn’t have to process or navigate anything. He can just be.
2. Alley cafes and wine bars – bonus points for getting a little lost away from the tourist buzz. Kendra’s Old Man Test™: if you spot a café with a few local men over 70 who look like they’ve been sitting there since the dawn of time, sit down. You’ve found a good one.
3. Siesta-style hotel afternoons – inspired by Spain, but a good idea anywhere in the world. Close the curtains, crawl into bed, nap or read. No one has ever been harmed by a siesta.

On the guilt

You wouldn't feel bad about stopping for petrol, and your body deserves at least as much consideration as a hire car. Rest is strategic. It's future-you receiving a thank-you note from present-you.

The sights will still be there tomorrow. If you miss something altogether, that's a decent reason to come back. And resting gives you a different version of the place anyway, one that's slower, quieter, and usually more honest than the version you get at a job.

So plan the pit stops and write them into the itinerary. You'll connect with a place far better rested than you will while locked in a battle with your own body.

Besides, an afternoon working through the entire appetiser menu with a bottle of something local, watching a square go about its business, might turn out to be the best thing you do all trip.