The Trials and Tribulations of a Travelling Giant
You guessed it - I’m tall... Like really tall - I’m 6’10”
Ever since my teenage years I’ve carried the nickname Too Tall.
For context, Greg Davies—the towering comedian from Taskmaster—is 6’8”, and Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson, better known as “The Mountain” from Game of Thrones, stands at 6’9”.
To most people, I’m something of a gentle giant. In fact, I once came surprisingly close to stepping into the wizarding world myself - I was nearly cast as Robbie Coltrane’s body double for Hagrid in the final Harry Potter film. The opportunity came about when Martin Bayfield, the former England rugby captain who usually filled those oversized boots, wasn’t available.
I wouldn’t change my height for the world—I love it!—but let’s be honest, when you’re nearly seven feet tall, the world isn’t exactly designed with you in mind. And travelling? Well, that’s where things get interesting.
Flying: A Battle for Legroom ✈️
Airports seem to have a strange obsession with dangling signs from the ceiling -often at just the right height to turn my walk to the gate into a full-on game of human whack-a-mole, complete with ducking, weaving, and the occasional near miss. They clearly believe signage is best appreciated at forehead level, well for me at least. Nothing says ‘welcome aboard’ quite like turning the walk to your gate into a concussion obstacle course.
Regular economy seats? Forget it. The space between my butt and my knee is literally longer than the seat pitch. Translation: I simply cannot sit down.
Back in the 90s, flying was a whole different game. You couldn’t book emergency exit seats ahead of time - it was against FAA rules. Bulkhead seats? Reserved for families with babies. So here was my system:
Call the airline (no online booking back then!) and beg them to put a note on my ticket about my height.
Call again a month before to make sure the note was still there.
Show up at the airport before check-in opened to snag the right seat before anyone else.
Stressful? Yep. Necessary? Absolutely.
By the 2000s, airlines got clever—they started charging for those extra-legroom seats. My first experience was with Virgin Atlantic on a US flight. An extra £50 each way, on top of a £400 ticket just to fit into a seat? Brutal. I argued that if it were a disability, they wouldn’t be allowed to charge me. But the airline didn’t budge. These days, I fly Premium Economy for long haul or Business Class for short haul. Sure, it costs more, but at least I can actually sit down without folding like an origami crane.
And don't get me started on airplane toilets...
Hire Cars: Supersized Only 🚙
Cars are another adventure. Technically, I can drive smaller ones (yes, even a VW Polo once upon a time), but “can drive” doesn’t equal “comfortable.”
If I’m traveling with just two friends, I can squeeze into a medium SUV like a RAV4—though I instantly turn it into a 3-seater because no normal human can sit behind me. But for most trips, I need a large SUV.
This is where the Americas shine. The Ford Expedition, Chevy Tahoe, Suburban, GMC Yukon XL- absolute giants. These 5-meter beasts wouldn’t survive on Europe’s skinny streets, but in the US and Canada, they’re perfect. Roomy, powerful, and blessedly spacious for a guy like me.
Accommodation: Mind the Ceilings 🏡
When it comes to places to stay, my friends and I usually book Airbnbs for the social space and kitchen. But here’s the catch: I now always check the bed size and ceiling height.
We once rented a cottage in Devon where the ceilings were 6’6”. Translation: I couldn’t stand up anywhere in the house. Charming? Maybe for others. Torture? For me.
Beds are another deal breaker. A king size is non-negotiable, and it cannot have a footboard. Once, in New Jersey, we stayed in this gorgeous house—but the bed had a footboard. Result: 2 weeks of neck and back pain because I couldn’t lay flat. Lesson learned.
People: The Human Spotlight 🌍
And then there’s the people. Being tall means being noticed—everywhere. Most physical attributes, people usually avoid commenting, but height? Oh, that’s considered fair game. Strangers will happily announce, “You’re tall!” as if I hadn’t noticed.
One of the funniest side-shows is watching people try to guess my height. The reactions are priceless -Most folks squint up at me and confidently declare, “You can’t be that tall… maybe 6’4”?” Others swing wildly in the opposite direction, throwing out guesses like 7’12” (which, yes, I’ve actually been told more than once).
As a teenager, I had two options: hide from the attention or embrace it. I chose to embrace it. As long as people are polite, I don’t mind. But the fascination really cranks up when I travel. Even in Ireland this year, at least one person commented on my height nearly every day.
So that’s life as a traveling giant: the extra planning, the oversized vehicles, the bed checks and the constant commentary.
But honestly? I wouldn’t trade it. Being Too Tall just makes every trip a little more memorable—and that’s what travelling is all about.
I decided just one blog just didnt seem to be enough, so in Part Two of The Trials and Tribulations of a Travelling Giant (coming later in September), Stuart recounts some of his best gigantic tales of travelling the world.
