Get Your Money Right Before You Go On Vacation

GET YOUR MONEY RIGHT BEFORE YOU GO ON VACATION: HOW TO BUDGET FOR A TRIP WITHOUT RUNNING OUT OF MONEY


There are few things that can put a damper on a vacation faster than realizing you are running out of money.

Unfortunately, I know this from experience.

Years ago, I planned a road trip with my mother that was supposed to be one of those wonderful vacations we would remember forever. And it was. Now that my mother is gone, it is actually one of my fondest memories with her.

But there was one little problem.

I didn't plan the money very well.

And when I say I didn't plan it well, I mean that at one point we were driving around Nevada looking for somewhere we could afford to sleep while I waited for my paycheck to become available.

Nothing teaches you how important a travel budget is quite like that.

Today, traveling is very different. We have online banking, debit cards, credit cards, banking apps, instant transfers and phones that can help us find almost anything.

But technology hasn't changed one basic truth:

You need enough money not only to take your vacation, but to handle the vacation you didn't plan for.

That's especially important if you're traveling alone, living on a tight budget, dealing with a chronic illness or disability, or caring for someone who has additional needs.

So before you start packing, let's get your money right.

THE VACATION THAT TAUGHT ME A VERY EXPENSIVE LESSON

My mother loved the Civil War and the Wild West.

And when I say loved, I mean loved. She could read about those periods of history for hours. It didn't matter where she was—if there was a history book nearby, she was happy.

She was made for travel even when she wasn't actually traveling.

So when my mother was using a wheelchair, I planned a Wild West road trip that would allow us to share something she loved. We were going to Yellowstone National Park, Denver, Doc Holliday's grave, Tombstone, the Grand Canyon and other stops before eventually making our way home.

We did it.

And despite some hiccups, we had a wonderful time.

The problem wasn't the trip itself. The problem was my financial plan.

This was 1997. Travel—and banking—looked very different from what it does today. We didn't have smartphones guiding us to the nearest hotel or ATM. I don't even remember whether I had a cell phone with me, but if I did, it certainly wasn't anything like the phones we carry now.

We used a paper map.

My plan was to take 11 days off work but leave home with enough cash to cover roughly the first week. My paycheck would be deposited while we were traveling. Wherever we happened to be when we started running short, I figured I would simply find a branch of my bank, withdraw the money and continue our vacation.

See the problem?

At the time, apparently I didn't.

THEN WE GOT TO NEVADA

By the time we left Las Vegas, we were rapidly running out of cash.

We drove to Hawthorne, Nevada, where we needed somewhere to spend the night. Armed with our paper map and not much else, my mother and I decided we would stay in Hawthorne, get up early the next morning and drive toward Sacramento, California, where my bank had a branch.

I'm not sure why we didn't head toward Sacramento immediately.

But mistakes are how you learn.

We drove around looking for a motel we could afford that would also work with my mother's wheelchair.

That second part mattered.

A cheap motel isn't much of a bargain if the person traveling with you can't use the bathroom. Eventually, tired and desperate, we ended up at a place called the Rocket Motel.

It was about as glamorous as the name sounds.

I actually looked it up years later and discovered it had been renovated. The pictures looked perfectly respectable. That was not the Rocket Motel we encountered in 1997.

The room was dank. The linens were dingy. There was a strange musty smell. I remember enormous spiderwebs, and my mother and I were convinced the occupants were daddy longlegs.

Worst of all, the room was so small that my mother couldn't get her wheelchair into the bathroom. She could stand only enough to pivot. She couldn't simply walk into the bathroom. Fortunately, my mother had brought a female urinal.

That little piece of equipment saved us.

She was able to use it, I emptied it into the toilet, helped her clean up with a soapy washcloth, and we eventually settled down for the night.

Was it ideal?

Absolutely not.

But it taught me something I still believe today:

When you're traveling with a disability or chronic illness, the cheapest option can sometimes become the most expensive option in terms of stress, energy, dignity and safety. That's why accessibility and health-related expenses belong in your travel budget from the beginning.

THE NEXT MORNING, WE HAD ANOTHER PROBLEM

Our plan was simple.

Get up. Drive to Sacramento. Go to the bank. Get my money.

Except the drive took longer than expected.

Road work and traffic slowed us down, and I became increasingly nervous because the bank closed at 4:00 p.m. We had been driving for hours trying to get there in time.

We finally pulled into the bank parking lot at about 3:45 p.m. I dashed inside while my mother waited in the car. We had made it—with only about 15 minutes to spare. I thought the hard part was over.

It wasn't.

The teller wouldn't give me my money.

I had spent more than four hours driving and worrying about whether we'd reach the bank before it closed. My mother had been through the same long drive and was now sitting outside in the car. We were nearly out of money, and this wasn't about whether we could afford to keep sightseeing.

If I didn't get that money, we were going to sleep in the car that night.

That was what was going through my mind while the teller was explaining the banking system to me. My mother was in a wheelchair. She had already spent the previous night in a motel room so small that she couldn't even get her wheelchair into the bathroom.

I was not going to put her through another uncomfortable night if there was any way I could prevent it.

Then the teller told me that the bank worked much like the U.S. government.

I'm sure she was trying to explain why accessing my money wasn't as simple as I thought it should be, but by then I had no patience left. We'd raced across California trying to reach a bank that closed at 4:00. We'd pulled into the parking lot at about 3:45. My mother was waiting outside. We needed somewhere safe and comfortable to sleep that night.

That's when I lost it.

“I know how the government works. I want my money!”

Apparently, that was enough to get the bank manager's attention.

The manager came over, and I finally got my money.

That night, my mother didn't have to sleep in the car. We found a nice room where she could be comfortable, and everything worked out.

But it came far too close for comfort—and it was completely avoidable. I hadn't run into some enormous travel catastrophe. I had simply planned a vacation without leaving enough financial breathing room for things not to go exactly according to plan.

I can laugh about parts of it now. More than 25 years later, it makes a great story.

But I don't want you to learn this lesson the way I did.

YOUR VACATION BUDGET NEEDS MORE THAN THE PRICE OF THE VACATION

When people calculate the cost of a trip, they often start with the obvious expenses: airfare, hotel, food, activities and transportation.

Those absolutely belong in the budget. But they're only the beginning. The real question isn't simply:

“How much does this vacation cost?”

It's:

“How much money do I need to take this vacation without putting myself in a financial mess if something changes?”

Those are two very different numbers.

A good travel budget should have several layers.

If you're trying to travel on a limited budget, with a chronic illness, on your own, or while life simply refuses to cooperate, you're exactly who I created The Single, Sick & Broke Traveler for.

Join the Tribe for practical travel advice, new articles, checklists and realistic ways to make travel fit the life you actually have—not the imaginary perfect life you're supposedly supposed to wait for.

1. START WITH YOUR FIXED COSTS

These are expenses you generally know before you leave. They may include airfare, train tickets, hotel reservations, rental cars, travel insurance, prepaid tours and tickets for attractions. Once you've booked these expenses, you have a pretty good idea of what they cost.

But pay attention to what's not included.

That $700 flight isn't necessarily a $700 flight if you're going to pay another $80 to check luggage, $30 to select the seat you need and $40 for transportation to the airport.

The hotel may also come with taxes, resort fees, parking charges or other costs.

Look at the total, not the advertised price.

That's one reason I've become so particular about hidden travel fees. The little charges don't look like much individually, but they can eat through a tight vacation budget surprisingly quickly. I talk more about it in my article, 15 Ways To Stop Paying These Travel Fees Before You Even Pack & Five Travel Fees I've Personally Avoided Just By Asking (Includes Hidden Travel Fees Checklist & Polite Travel Scripts

2. ESTIMATE YOUR DAILY SPENDING HONESTLY

Next, figure out what an ordinary day on your vacation is likely to cost. Include food, local transportation, attractions, tips, snacks, coffee and whatever else you realistically spend money on. I emphasize realistically.

Don't build a vacation budget around some imaginary version of yourself.

If you know you're going to want dinner in a restaurant, don't budget as though you'll eat crackers in your hotel room every night. On the other hand, there are easy ways to control food costs without making yourself miserable.

I frequently look for hotels that include breakfast. That's one meal I don't have to purchase every day. I may eat a lighter or inexpensive lunch and then budget for dinner.

The point isn't to spend as little as humanly possible. The point is to decide before you leave where your money matters to you.

3. GIVE ROAD TRIPS THEIR OWN MONEY CUSHION

If you're driving, don't calculate your gas budget by simply figuring out your vehicle's mileage, multiplying it by the distance and assuming you've got it covered.

Real road trips don't work that neatly.

Your fuel economy may change with traffic, terrain, weather and how much weight you're carrying. You'll probably drive around once you reach your destination. You may make detours. Construction can send you somewhere you never intended to go.

And sometimes you just get lost.

Build some breathing room into the fuel budget. Also consider tolls, parking, maintenance and roadside assistance.

The goal isn't to predict every dollar perfectly. It's to make sure a normal travel hiccup doesn't become a financial emergency.

4. BUDGET FOR YOUR BODY, TOO

This is one of the places where ordinary travel-budget advice often falls short.

If you have a chronic illness, disability or mobility limitation, some expenses aren't luxuries. They're what make the trip possible.

You may need a hotel close to the attraction instead of the cheaper hotel five miles away.

You might need a taxi or rideshare because your body has had enough walking for the day.

You may need to check a bag because carrying everything through an airport isn't realistic.

You might need to buy food when you hadn't planned to because medication needs to be taken with a meal.

You may need an extra hotel night, accessible transportation, mobility equipment, medication supplies or an unexpected rest day.

I've learned that the lowest price doesn't automatically mean the lowest cost.

Saving $40 on a hotel isn't a bargain if getting back and forth costs $60 in transportation—or leaves you completely exhausted. This is where budgeting with chronic illness becomes different from simply hunting for the cheapest trip possible. My article, 17 Hacks To Save Money On Vacation--The Ones No One Tells You will give you the tips you need to properly plan your vacation.

5. GIVE YOURSELF PERMISSION TO BUDGET FOR FUN

Your vacation budget shouldn't consist entirely of transportation, lodging and emergency money. You're going somewhere because you want to enjoy yourself. Budget for that too.

If there's a museum you've dreamed of seeing, put it in the budget.

If you want a T-shirt, put some souvenir money aside.

If you want one really nice dinner, plan for it.

I call some of this mad money—money that doesn't have to accomplish anything particularly responsible.

You don't have to spend it.

But having it means you don't have to feel guilty every time you see something you'd like to do. A tight budget shouldn't mean there's no room for joy.

6. NOW ADD THE MONEY NOBODY WANTS TO THINK ABOUT

Once you've calculated your expected vacation costs, you're not finished.

You need a buffer.

I don't believe there's one perfect percentage that works for every traveler. Someone taking a weekend road trip 100 miles from home has very different risks from someone traveling overseas for three weeks.

Instead, ask yourself:

What could realistically go wrong on this particular trip, and what would it cost me?

Maybe your flight gets canceled and you need dinner at the airport.

Maybe you miss a train.

Maybe the accessible transportation you planned to use doesn't work out.

Maybe you're exhausted and need to take a taxi.

Maybe your hotel reservation gets messed up.

Maybe your body says, Nope. We're not doing what you planned today.

Or maybe something much bigger happens.

That's where travel insurance may become important too, depending on the trip and what coverage you need. Read my article, When Your Vacation Goes Sideways—Using Travel Insurance When Things Go Wrong & Travel Disaster Toolkit

The important thing is that you don't spend your emergency money simply because it's sitting in your account. That money has a job.

Its job is to rescue you.

7. PROTECT YOUR “GET ME HOME” MONEY

If there is one thing I wish I'd understood better in 1997, it is this:

Never spend yourself into a position where getting home depends on everything going exactly according to plan.

Your last $200 isn't souvenir money.

It isn't “one more nice dinner” money.

It's get-me-home money.

The amount will be different depending on where you're traveling. If you're 90 minutes from home, your needs are different from someone who's across an ocean.

But before you leave, ask yourself:

If something went seriously wrong, how would I get home?

Then protect whatever money or resources you would need to do it.

For a solo traveler, I think this is especially important. You may not have another person standing beside you with a second wallet and another credit card.

You need your own Plan B.

8. DON'T KEEP ALL YOUR MONEY IN ONE PLACE

Technology has made traveling with money considerably easier than it was when my mother and I were driving around with our paper map. But technology can fail too.

Cards get declined. Wallets get lost. Banks flag transactions. Phones die. ATMs don't work.

That's why I don't like the idea of having only one way to access money while traveling.

Depending on the trip, you may want a primary card, a backup card kept separately and a reasonable amount of cash.

For international travel, check your cards before you leave. Look at foreign transaction fees and ATM fees, and find out how your particular bank handles international transactions. Many banks no longer require travel notifications, but policies vary, so check your own institution rather than assuming.

And don't automatically assume that exchanging a large amount of currency before leaving home is the cheapest choice. Exchange rates and fees vary. Compare your options before the trip.

9. DON'T FINANCE A VACATION YOU CAN'T AFFORD TO COME HOME FROM

I understand wanting to travel when you don't have much money.

That's pretty much the reason the word Broke is in the name of this website.

I'm never going to tell you that travel is only for people with big bank accounts.

It isn't.

But there's a difference between traveling cheaply and putting yourself into a financial hole that follows you home. If you're putting expenses on a credit card, know how you're going to pay that card afterward. If spending another $500 means you'll struggle to pay rent, utilities, medication or groceries when you return, that's not vacation money.

Maybe the answer is a shorter trip.

Maybe it's a road trip instead of a flight.

Maybe it's traveling in the off-season.

Maybe it's waiting another month or two and saving.

Changing the trip doesn't mean giving up the dream. It means making the dream fit your life. Attention Spoonies: How to Travel Even If You're Broke—The Complete Guide to Seeing the World on a Tiny Budget is good to read if you have chronic illness and are on a tight budget.

MY SIMPLE VACATION MONEY FORMULA

Today, I would plan that Wild West trip very differently.

My basic formula would be:

Fixed trip costs
+ realistic daily expenses
+ health/accessibility expenses
+ a travel buffer
+ protected “get me home” money
= what I actually need for the trip

That number may be higher than the bargain price you originally had in your head.

That's okay.

I'd rather discover before leaving that I need another $300 than discover it in a motel parking lot in Nevada.

BEFORE YOU LEAVE, ASK YOURSELF THESE QUESTIONS

1. Have I paid or budgeted for transportation and lodging, including fees?
2. What will I realistically spend each day on food, transportation and activities?
3. Have I budgeted for medication, accessibility, mobility or health-related needs?
4. Do I have money available if I need to change plans unexpectedly?
5. Do I have more than one way to access money?
6. If I'm using credit, do I know how I'll pay it off?
7. Do my cards charge foreign transaction or ATM fees?
8. Do I need some cash for this destination?
9. Have I checked whether travel insurance makes sense for this trip?
10. Most importantly: Have I protected enough money to get myself home?

If the answer to that last question is no, you're not quite finished planning.

WHAT MY MOTHER AND I ACTUALLY REMEMBER

Here's the funny thing about that trip.

The money fiasco isn't what I think about when I remember traveling with my mother.

I remember the places we saw.

I remember sharing something she loved.

I remember us figuring things out together.

I even remember the ridiculous Rocket Motel.

Now that she's gone, I wouldn't trade that trip for anything.

Would I plan the finances the same way today?

Not a chance.

But that's one of the gifts travel gives you. Sometimes you learn what to do because you first learned exactly what not to do.

My mother and I got home.

The bills got paid.

And the disaster eventually became a story.

Today, though, I travel differently.

I want enough money to enjoy the trip I planned—and enough of a cushion to handle the trip I didn't. Because the goal isn't to have an unlimited travel budget.

The goal is to get there your way—and still have enough money to get home.

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Travel stories for the brave and budget-conscious.

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