I can always tell when they are near.
A slight unease takes over those of us who live in town year-round, as we can feel them approaching. With the season change comes a shift in the atmosphere, and the shelter of winter collapses into a summery chaos. Suddenly, a five-minute drive across town becomes an hour-long road trip. Restaurants can no longer provide comfort food in a matter of minutes, and though the waitstaff celebrates the line out the door, locals and hostesses alike cry silent tears for the slow days of the past. Though it’s what we prepare for from September to May, no one is ever truly ready.
They come from all directions in cars, planes and boats, bringing with them their 50-pound suitcases full of sunblock and fedoras. With befuddled gazes blocked by sunglasses and sluggish paces due to failing navigation, they wander around from the sidewalks to the shorelines from dawn until dusk. They are forever bewildered and never in sync.
They are the tourists.
And despite the beautiful expectations of a week at the beach, there always seems to be something a bit off. Though they smile for their selfies and relax to their hearts desire, there is hidden discomfort. Parents become flustered as their children become more tired, more hungry, more complaining. Teenagers become frustrated with their lack of freedom to explore and meet other people. Night owls find themselves caught in a seemingly endless cycle of parties to naps and back around again. Sightseers become confused as the sights they are trying to see come hand in hand with entry fees and two-hour lines. It all seemed so wonderful when it was planned, but it just isn’t living up to the hopeful prospects.
The answer to their vacationland paradox lies in not the crowded hotels nor the overpriced lobster dinners, but in the choice to vacation itself. Don’t go on vacation. As Airbnb’s motto suggests, and as I have discovered in recent travels, live in the places you go. Stay with a relative or a friend and have them show you around. Make a friend if you must, and don’t be afraid to talk to the “natives” of the area. Experience places the same way someone who has been raised there does, not the way the profit-driven tourism industry wants you to. There’s a reason locals haven’t moved away, and it probably isn’t the theme park or top-rated tour extravaganza. While the touristy paradise can be nice for a day, the glitz and the glam will fade a soon as you’re on the plane home.
So the next time you plan a trip, don’t shape it around the attractions everyone is talking about. Find those that only the 80-year-old man who has lived there his whole life knows about, the hidden beauties that made him want to stay. Look for the overgrown pathways leading to long-forgotten views of the world beyond. Make your own judgments on who serves the best food in town by risking it all on a tiny diner that’s been overshadowed by the booming chain restaurant next door. Photograph the explosive colors of the sunset from a mountain view only accessible by a hike led by a local guide, not the fiery red colors of your skin after a day lounging on the beach.
If you leave only with postcards of views you barely glimpsed at and a T-shirt that will surely be thrown away within the year, you haven’t done it right. The money you spent on the hotel, the food and the two-way ticket there and back will have been for nothing. Make your traveling worth its while, transform it into a long-lasting memory that you will proudly reminisce to your grandkids about. Find a home away from home and explore it from top to bottom. Most importantly, make it difficult for the locals to know that you have arrived. The more you immerse yourself into your destination, the more you will leave with.
