Divergence in the crew sometimes.
I'd fly to Brussels and everyone said "Irish bar!" and I'd rather go find some hole in the wall.
Or in Rome where the other two guys wanted to go to this bar that was owned by a Canadian where all of the cockpit crews met to go watch recorded American sports, drink Guinness and talk "shop". Or passing some amazing amazing German beer halls enroute to go eat mediocre pizza at some place where the stews proclaim, "Oh, they're so FRIENDLY y'all!" by the mall.
Ehh… I'd rather be "that guy", ditch the group and have a local experience rather than sit at a TGI Fridays in Greece hearing about your golf game.