There are plenty of fictional worlds I’d love to visit.
The Shire would be near the top of the list. Rolling green hills, good food, cozy little homes and apparently no pressure to do much of anything unless a wizard shows up and ruins your week. Narnia would be incredible, especially during one of those stretches when nobody is at war and the White Witch isn’t turning people into lawn ornaments. Hogwarts would be fascinating. Florin from The Princess Bride would be fun to explore. And if somebody offered me a ride on the Millennium Falcon, I’m not turning that down.
There is, however, one very important condition: I need central heat and air, basic indoor plumbing and a soft bed. That changes things considerably.
We tend to imagine fictional worlds the way they looked in the movies or the way our minds dressed them up while we were reading the books. Everything is picturesque. The inns are charming. The castles are majestic. The forests are magical. Nobody seems to ask where the bathroom is.
The Shire looks wonderful, but before I reserve a week at Bag End, I need some answers. Does that round green door lead to a home with hot and cold running water? Is there a shower somewhere behind one of those little round doors? Does Bilbo have air conditioning, or am I expected to sleep underground and trust that the earth provides adequate climate control? And what exactly is the mattress situation? I’m 59 years old. “Rustic” stopped sounding romantic a while ago.
Narnia might be even more tempting. Talking animals, beautiful forests, castles, feasts and the possibility of meeting Aslan sound like a terrific vacation right up until someone hands me a sword and tells me the forces of evil are gathering beyond the river. I’m on vacation. I did not purchase the battle package.
Then there’s Middle-earth beyond the Shire. Rivendell would be breathtaking. Gondor would be worth seeing. I’d even consider a guided excursion through some of the more scenic areas. But everybody walks everywhere. Or rides a horse. For days. That’s not transportation. That’s an endurance event. And I have questions about the inns. Every medieval-style inn in fiction seems to offer a roaring fireplace, a bowl of stew and a bed that looks as though somebody stuffed hay into a large pillowcase and called it luxury. No, thank you. I want a Beautyrest.
Florin has its charms, too. Swashbuckling adventure, beautiful countryside, sword fights and true love all sound appealing. It also has shrieking eels, the Fire Swamp, Rodents of Unusual Size and a torture chamber. Tripadvisor would have concerns.
The Star Wars universe might actually have the best chance of meeting my minimum vacation requirements. They have spaceships, advanced medical technology, droids and the ability to travel between planets. Surely somebody somewhere has figured out central air and a decent mattress. Then again, nearly every place Luke Skywalker visits is either controlled by the Empire, occupied by criminals, inhabited by giant monsters or about fifteen minutes away from exploding.
Even Hogwarts has problems. It’s magnificent, certainly, and I’d love to see the Great Hall, visit Hogsmeade and watch a Quidditch match. But Hogwarts is also an enormous stone castle in Scotland. That place has to be freezing. The staircases move when you’re trying to get somewhere, ghosts wander through walls without knocking, candles float over the dining tables, and I’m fairly certain the school’s safety policies would cause an OSHA inspector to simply sit down and cry.
So maybe the answer isn’t really one fictional world. Maybe what I want is the theme-park version of all of them: the Shire with central air, Narnia with resort transportation, Rivendell with hot showers and pillow-top mattresses, Florin with a clearly marked route that completely bypasses the Fire Swamp, and Hogwarts after somebody has installed modern heating and explained the concept of privacy to the ghosts. I’ll take the Millennium Falcon, too, provided the itinerary does not involve being chased by TIE fighters.
Adventure is wonderful. I just want to know that when the adventure is over, I can return to my room, take a hot shower, turn the thermostat to 70 and climb into a soft bed.
Apparently my ideal fictional vacation is less about fantasy and more about whether Marriott has opened a location there.
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Copyright © 2026 Doug DeBolt.
