Poppy and Alex have that classic opposites-attract, slow-burn chemistry that romance readers eat up, and for good reason. They feel real, their banter is top-tier, and their history adds emotional weight. That said, Poppy is a bit too quirky at times, like she’s auditioning for the lead role in a Zooey Deschanel biopic, and Alex is so uptight he practically creaks when he moves. Their relationship is chef’s kiss, but their individual character arcs? Not exactly groundbreaking. Also, the side characters exist purely to prop up the main duo—fun but forgettable.

For a book that revolves around a travel writer, you’d think the settings would be more than just pretty wallpaper behind Poppy and Alex’s angst. Sure, Henry throws in some nice descriptions here and there, but the locations all blur together after a while. The Croatia trip stands out (mostly because of the incident), but otherwise, the travel aspect never feels fully utilized. It’s less “transport me there” and more “Google a stock photo and call it a day.”

Emily Henry’s writing is so easy to devour—sharp, funny, and emotionally resonant when it needs to be. The dialogue is snappy, sometimes too snappy, like every conversation is fighting to be the wittiest rom-com scene ever written. And while the alternating timeline keeps things interesting, it also kills momentum. Just when things heat up in the present, BAM! You’re yanked back to a past vacation where nothing crucial is happening. Could the emotional beats have hit harder with a more linear approach? Probably.

A slow-burn, friends-to-lovers romance with a years-long will-they-won’t-they? Sounds amazing, right? And it is, mostly. But the central conflict—the reason these two spend years avoiding their obvious feelings—is so weak that when the “big reveal” happens, it’s like… really? That’s it? The slow burn works until it starts feeling like a painfully long simmer. Also, the ending wraps up way too quickly after all that build-up, like Henry realized she was nearing her page limit and just boom—problem solved.

Did I want to keep reading? Absolutely. Did I sometimes feel like I was just waiting for Poppy and Alex to finally get over themselves and do something about their feelings? Also yes. The past-and-present structure creates some intrigue, but after a while, it’s less about suspense and more about impatience. The chemistry is strong enough to hold attention, but there were a few times I wished we could just cut the fluff and get to it already.

Look, I buy Poppy and Alex’s chemistry. I do. But I don’t buy that they’d go this long without addressing their feelings in any meaningful way. Their miscommunication isn’t just frustrating—it’s borderline infuriating. Also, for a couple with such different life goals (Poppy wants to live a whirlwind, jet-setting life, and Alex is the human embodiment of a mortgage payment), the book doesn’t do enough to convince me they’d actually work long-term. Love is great and all, but have these two ever discussed what their life together would even look like?

Despite its flaws, this book is undeniably fun. The humor lands, the chemistry sizzles, and Henry knows how to make a romance feel earned. Sure, the pacing is uneven, the plot resolution is rushed, and the travel element is underutilized, but when it works, it works. It’s the kind of book you fly through, even when you’re rolling your eyes at the characters’ self-inflicted emotional agony. Would I recommend it? Absolutely. Would I also recommend mentally preparing for a lot of miscommunication-based frustration? Oh, 100%.

People We Meet on Vacation is a good book—maybe even a great one, depending on your tolerance for drawn-out romantic tension. It’s charming, well-written, and funny, but it also stumbles over its own pacing and logic. If you love banter-heavy, slow-burn romances with characters who take forever to get their act together, this will hit all the right notes. Just don’t expect it to reinvent the wheel—or, you know, actually make full use of its travel theme.