Travel moves you. It moves you to laugh and to cry, sometimes with joy or relief, sometimes with pain or amusement, and sometimes with an overwhelming sense of wonderment at the beauty of a particular place or the insights into yourself and into the world that steeping yourself in another culture can bring.
Travel possesses the unique ability to move you when it's going smoothly, when it's standing still, and even especially when you hit the rough spots. When things go wrong on the road, it tends to be the worst part of your travel experience a picked pocket, menu mishap (it's what part of the sheep?), overbooked bus, thin-walled hotel, recalcitrant washing machine, unexpected trip to the emergency room, unfortunate encounter with an avalanche, night spent sleeping in a doorway because someone lost her Eurailpass and we got kicked off the train, etc.
Once you get back home, though, and the calamities are safely behind you, they somehow transform themselves into the best part of your trip. The art museums, cathedrals, monuments, tours most of the sightseeing tends to fade into vague recollections and obligatory snapshots. It's the mishaps that stay burned in your memory as the true adventures you've had, the tales with which you regale friends and family. "The Eiffel Tower was nice, the Louvre was exhausting, but wait until you hear what happened to us at the airport when Lauren misplaced her railpass...."