Not for us - because of my, ahem,
difficulties with transfers, we book some kind of private driver for that stuff as much as possible. That way, we’re not standing there with luggage, trying to navigate a train station or taxi rank or whatever. We just look for the guy holding a sign with our name on it and get in his car (never to be seen again, one of these days, which is also one of the 19,307 things I worry about going wrong on a trip…

).
MrsT is frugal to a fault, but she learned a long time ago that it’s worth the extra expense to make sure I’m not having a nervous breakdown in the middle of the train station, so whenever possible, she works out some kind of foolproof-as-possible transfer for us (which is still no guarantee, as we had a private car hired for the drive from Bayeux to Paris last year and still had significant issues getting to the train station in Paris).
The only place we couldn’t get one this time around (and yes, I’m already freaking out over it) is getting from the hotel in Barcelona to the ship - it’s a Sunday, and try as she might, she can’t find any of the usual transfer companies she works with that’ll provide that on a Sunday morning, so we’ll have to have the concierge get us a taxi.
Honestly, I’ve been having panic attacks the last few weeks over this whole thing, which is something new for me, so all of this is getting worse for me. That usually doesn’t happen until the day before we’re transferring, but the older I get, the worse it’s getting.
I got called last night for work at about 1:30AM and had to be up for a half-hour or so, which was when I responded earlier up this topic…I didn’t sleep the rest of the night, I just lay there in bed, imaging all sorts of wacky things that “could” go wrong (“What if someone puts their carryon in my designated carryon space overhead, and I try and move it, and it’s a little old lady’s bag, and she complains, and the flight attendant spits in my drink for me upsetting the little old lady, and the flight attendant unknowingly has covid and passes it on to me, and I pass it on to everyone on the cruise, and then they won’t let anyone off the ship, and we end up floating for weeks and weeks, with the toilets overflowing and the food all gone, like happened to that one ship a couple of years ago, and since I can’t get off the ship for that long, I get fired from work, and we lose the house, and now we’re homeless living on the street! Why the flippity-f*** are we going on this trip? We’re DOOMED!!!” - yeah, that scenario rolled through my head about 3AM).
I never used to be like that, but we had one really bad travel experience, getting back from Budapest to the US, in 2010, where everything that could go wrong did go wrong, and at the risk of sounding melodramatic, I think it traumatized me somewhat, and it hasn’t helped that nearly every trip since then has had at least one thing go wrong, nothing unusual in the course of traveling, but now it’s super-amplified for me, and the older I get, the more I’m inclined to think, “Do I really need to see Bucharest (or Krakow…or Copenhagen…etc)? I think I’d rather have just stayed home.”
Add to that, MrsT is going in exactly the opposite direction, frantically trying to do more, more, MORE! before she’s too old/unhealthy to travel - if I’ve got travel anxiety, she’s got FOMO anxiety just as badly.
Just send the therapy bill to my house, Doc. I’m good for it.