How to Avoid Travel Disruption This Weekend (Hint: Don’t Travel)

Welcome to Hell, We Hope You Packed Snacks

Oh, the great British summer getaway — that sacred time when schools empty, temperatures flirt with the idea of being pleasant, and every man, woman, and child with a driver’s license or a passport decides to flee simultaneously. If your grand plan this weekend involves “going somewhere,” I’d like to extend my most heartfelt condolences. Because barring a miracle, you’re not going anywhere fast.

Let’s get one thing out of the way upfront: this weekend is a Category 5 Clusterjam across every imaginable form of transportation. Planes, trains, automobiles — and yes, even ferries — are all expected to descend into chaos, congestion, and confusion. It’s the Great British Queue-Off, and everyone’s invited.

And if that weren't enough, we’ve got an unexpected guest star this year: President Donald J. Trump — America’s most divisive export since reality TV — who has thoughtfully chosen this particular moment to swing by Scotland. Because what this travel situation needed was airspace restrictions and motorcade delays wrapped in a tartan bow.

So, grab your emotional support water bottle and let’s walk through how to "avoid" travel disruption this weekend — or, more realistically, how to surrender to it with dignity.

✈️ AIR: Winging It Into Madness

Flying this weekend? Wow. That’s brave. Bold. Naively optimistic. Possibly drunk.

Friday is expected to be the busiest flying day of the year in the UK, with 3,255 flights and more than half a million poor souls attempting to catapult themselves into the stratosphere — or at least get to Faro without losing their will to live.

Luton’s about to become a rugby scrum of wheeled luggage and passive-aggressive sighs. Birmingham will see foot traffic akin to a BTS concert. And Gatwick? With 65-second turnaround windows, it’s basically air-Tetris now. Good luck if you want to breathe, never mind find a seat at Pret.

Adding to this aerial apocalypse is a four-day strike by ground handlers in Portugal. Lisbon, Faro, Porto, Madeira — all of them turning into no-fly zones of inefficiency, unless you’re on easyJet, Ryanair, or Tui, who swear it’ll be fine. If you believe that, I’ve got a non-refundable room in Ibiza to sell you.

And then there’s air-traffic control. Or rather, the severe lack thereof. The skies over Europe are more crowded than your Aunt Susan’s WhatsApp group during lockdown. Thanks to war-related airspace bans over Ukraine and Russia, plus good old-fashioned “capacity issues” in France, the whole sky is running on vibes and crossed fingers.

And did we mention Trump? Because of course we did. His visit to Scotland will cause airspace closures over Prestwick and Aberdeen. The irony of a man famous for firing people now grounding flights is poetic, in a ‘burn-it-all-down’ sort of way.

✈️ Avoidance Tips:

Fly on Monday: Because everyone else already left. Or tried to.
Avoid France: A good rule in general, but especially when their ATC is napping.
Fake a sprained ankle: You might get priority boarding or at least a chair.
Don’t fly: Revolutionary, I know.

🚆 RAIL: Choo-Choo-Choose Another Weekend

Trains: the mode of transport for romantics, commuters, and people who’ve given up on making their flight. Unfortunately, this weekend, they’re also a game of Russian roulette with a ticket machine.

After a week of rail carnage — including a full-scale meltdown at London Waterloo — the nation’s rail infrastructure is about as reliable as a politician’s promise.

Let’s talk engineering works. Yes, those convenient little disruptions that only ever seem to happen during peak travel times. This weekend, say goodbye to:

Crewe to Shrewsbury
Nuneaton to Leicester
And the entirety of Huddersfield (sorry, West Yorkshire)

If your journey includes any of these — cancel it. Or bring snacks and a Kindle loaded with war and peace. The book, not the experience. Although honestly, both apply.

Even Eurostar is getting in on the chaos. They’re politely suggesting that everyone not in "Premier" (i.e., the unwashed masses) show up 75 minutes early. Which is code for “we're gonna search your bag, your soul, and your patience.”

If you are Premier, congrats! You only need 45 minutes. Which is just enough time to wonder why you didn’t book a yacht.

🚆 Avoidance Tips:

Don’t go to the seaside: Unless you enjoy sharing elbow space with 300 sunburnt dads and 12,000 screaming toddlers.
Book off-peak: Specifically, sometime in October.
If you hear “replacement bus”: That’s your cue to run.

🚗 ROADS: Escape Plan or Existential Crisis?

If you're driving this weekend, may the gods of clutch control bless you. Because the roads are going to resemble the seventh circle of hell, only with more Audis and rage.

Friday has already been dubbed “Frantic Friday” by the RAC, which is British for “You’re Not Getting There, Mate.” Commuters, delivery vans, and the entire nation’s caravan enthusiasts will be converging on the motorway network like it’s Black Friday at the M&S food hall.

Top spots for vehicular despair include:

M5 between Bristol and Devon: because everyone suddenly remembered Cornwall exists
M25, particularly the southeast quadrant near Dartford: the Bermuda Triangle of roundabouts
M6 northbound from Coventry to Wolverhampton: a living diorama of pain

You’ll also want to avoid the A82 to Loch Lomond, unless you enjoy tailgating at 15mph through stunning scenery you can’t look at because your kid needs the toilet. Again.

And Saturday? Even worse. Three million motorists are expected on the roads. That’s right. Three. Million. People. Many of whom believe indicators are optional and “middle lane” means “forever home.”

Sunday offers little reprieve. If you’re on the M6 from Wigan to Stafford, consider yourself signed up for a real-life simulation of “Waiting for Godot” — but with more potholes and fewer existential breakthroughs.

🚗 Avoidance Tips:

Leave after 7pm Friday: When the only thing on the road is broken dreams and foxes.
Travel before 11am Sunday: Because that’s when everyone else forgets how roundabouts work.
Fake a breakdown and stay home: Honestly the healthiest choice.

🚢 FERRIES: Channel Your Inner Stoic

Dover is ready. Ready to be overwhelmed, that is. More than 10,000 cars are expected to pass through the port on Friday and Saturday. The CEO of Dover is begging you — begging you — not to arrive more than two hours early.

Because what Dover doesn’t need is a conga line of Ford Fiestas arriving at 2am for a 6am ferry, all while Steve from Swindon shouts at a check-in kiosk that doesn’t speak sarcasm.

This is the ferry equivalent of a mosh pit. And just like a mosh pit, the only way to survive is to not lose your shoes and to accept that you may be elbowed in the ribs by a guy named Nigel carrying a crate of Orangina.

Meanwhile, the Channel Tunnel's LeShuttle service has released a perfectly reasonable statement urging passengers to arrive no more than two hours before departure, presumably so they can squeeze in just the right amount of despair between border checks and boarding.

🚢 Avoidance Tips:

Don’t arrive early: Dover staff will find you. And they will judge you.
Do arrive early enough: But not too early. Also, not too late. Basically, show up in a Schrödinger’s window of acceptable timing.
Bring a book, podcast, and full bladder: Because once you're in the queue, there's no leaving the queue.

🎩 BONUS ROUND: TRUMPAGEDDON

As if all of this weren’t enough, we now pivot to the big orange elephant in the room: Donald Trump’s visit to Scotland.

From July 25 to July 29, The Donald will be touring, golfing, and probably insulting someone’s kilt. Meanwhile, airspace around Prestwick and Aberdeen will be locked down tighter than a Mar-a-Lago wine cellar.

This means:

No flights in certain airspace zones
Even more delays for Scottish airports
And possibly spontaneous rallies involving red hats and Highland cows

The good news? If you hate peace and quiet, the Trump convoy will bring all the noise and confusion of a toddler birthday party thrown in a fire station.

🎩 Avoidance Tips:

Don’t fly near Prestwick or Aberdeen
Don’t be Scottish this weekend
Don’t be anywhere near a golf course unless you enjoy helicopters overhead and security officers asking what’s in your Thermos.

TL;DR — Just Stay Home

In summary, here are your options this weekend:

Mode of Transport	Chances of Success	Notes
Plane	2/10	If you make it through security, you still might get stuck behind Trump’s airspace blockade.
Train	3/10	Hope you enjoy “planned” engineering works. And unplanned ones.
Car	1/10	Bring snacks, patience, and a therapist.
Ferry	5/10	If you follow instructions to the second, you might survive.
Not going	11/10	Congratulations, you win the weekend.

So how do you avoid travel disruption this weekend? Easy: don’t travel.

Instead:

Build a blanket fort.
Start a new streaming series you’ll never finish.
Finally read that book you pretend to have read.
Learn to crochet, bake sourdough, or yell at the radio — whatever keeps you grounded. Literally.

Because while the rest of the nation loses its collective marbles trying to flee to warmer climes or coastal retreats, you’ll be in your pajamas, smugly sipping tea and watching the chaos unfold on Twitter.

And honestly? That’s the most relaxing getaway of all.

Enjoy your weekend. Or at least enjoy watching everyone else not enjoy theirs.