Travel planning - the dreaded single supplement

"So, if it's just the two of us," he asked, "what do we do about the rooms? I wasn't planning to pay the single supplement."

Ah, the single supplement. The luxury tax for people who don't want to share their bedroom with a stranger. The reminder to all singletons that the world sees coupledom as the default. The decision I need to make about my next trip, which is currently a trip for two: me and a stranger.

The single supplement

When I'm asked to pay the single supplement, my gut reaction is: hell no. An extra $800? No thanks.

Then I think: what if my roomie snores, or can't stop talking? What if they're like that woman I met on a recent trip who had nothing positive to say—ever—and seemed determined to ruin the experience for everyone? What if it's a man? Would it get weird because, as Harry said, "the sex part always gets in the way"? Would I feel unsafe (for pretty much the same reason)?

The shared room discount

I understand the single supplement as a concept: it's cheaper to put two people in one room, and most people travel as pairs. But more and more people are choosing to stay single, and live alone. And more women are choosing to travel alone, including me.


Perhaps the travel industry should start treating singleness as normal—the default. Perhaps the single supplement could be replaced by the shared room discount. If you're willing to put up with Sam's snoring or Mel's moaning, we'll take $800 off your bill!

Until that happens, my potential tour companion and I agree: if we're the only two people on our trip, we will split the single supplement and get separate rooms.

"I don't think sharing would be weird," he says, "but I'm not sure my wife would like it."