A trip to Candy Island: 1632

Leaving them with many counterfeit thankes, I travelled that day seaven and thirty miles, and at night attained to the unhappy Village of Pickehorno: where I could have neither meate, drinke, lodging, nor any refreshment to my wearied body. These desperate Candiots thronged about me, gazing (as though astonished) to see me both want company, and their Language, and by their cruell lookes, they seemed to be a barbarous and uncivill people: For all these High-landers of Candy, are tyrannicall, blood-thirsty, and deceitfull. The consideration of which and the appearance of my death, signed to me secretly by a pittifull woman, made me to shun their villany in stealing forth from them in the darke night, and privately sought for a secure place of repose in a umbragious Cave by the Sea side, where I lay till morning with a fearefull heart, a crased body, a thirstie stomacke, and a hungry belly.

--From The totall discourse of the rare adventures...--

Don't you hate it when people go on vacation, then come back and complain about all the small inconveniences they had to put up with, like they were on the worst trip ever?