Opinion: When did 'tourist' become a dirty word?

Travel writer Lucy Thackray argues in defence of mainstream tourist attractions.

Whenever I’m planning a trip, I ask pals, acquaintances and even relative strangers for their tips. It often beats stumbling upon things organically. But lately, I’ve noticed that – as with most city guides and online itineraries published this side of the millennium – my tipsters are steering me away from the main sights and the famous restaurants.

Now, I must go down side alleys and out to far-flung neighbourhoods to eat where the locals do. I have to find lattes with unicorns swirled into the foam; track down obscure cat cafés; and seek out street art (it’s a neon porcupine on a concrete wall, guys). It may be the Instagram effect or the constant fight to be the best travelled of our social circles, but the top 10 things to do in any given destination have become the least cool.

This trend is why I recently found myself in Rome’s edgy Pigneto district, wandering mildly threatening, muralled alleys and trying not to look lost. I ducked out of the rain for coffee at much-praised Caffe dal 32, felt like a plonker Instagramming the hip walls behind aloof Real Locals and jumped in an Uber back to the lovely vine-strung bars and pavement cafés of the tourist centre.

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Another time, I took two metro lines and several wrong turns in Tokyo to find a secret whisky bar in the basement of a nondescript office building – a must-do, my whisky-drinking mates told me. And it was… fine. About as nice as some of the non-basement bars in the business district I was staying in, and twice as expensive.

What's the shame in being a tourist?

Both times, I felt as though I’d failed to be a ‘traveller’ instead of a ‘tourist’. But the more I delve into both hipster side streets and visitor-heavy attractions, the more I realise the former just aren’t for me. We’ve become bizarrely obsessed with ‘getting away from the tourists’, often at the price of enjoying what’s famously great about a city. Well I’ve got news for you: you can’t run far from yourself.

That’s right, if you’re touring a country or city that’s not yours, first time or fifth, you are a tourist. And what’s the shame in that? Tourism used to be a fabulous thing: jet-setting on cutting-edge sky vessels, lugging hefty cameras to the most recognisable world wonders, packing the khakis for different climates.

So why do I feel I need to creep, early morning, to the Sagrada Família, snapping the much-captured photo of its candle-waxy turrets? Gaudí's cathedral is one of the city’s main draws for a reason, after all. The Eiffel Tower is quite a sight, I’ve got a soft spot for Hong Kong’s Star Ferry and there’s no way I’m going to New York and missing out on a skyscraper view.

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These sights and activities are iconic because they are the moments that people remember forever. Rounding a corner and seeing the sunlight streaming through the Colosseum’s arches? Breathtaking. Having a craft beer in a pop-up bar on a barge? That probably won’t make it into my deathbed travel highlights. But you bet my first sun-dappled foray into Central Park will.

I’m sick of snobbish generalisations

I’m tired of hearing snobbish generalisations such as, "The Louvre/Met/Uffizi is overrated. Instead, go to this warehouse gallery a half-hour bus out of town to look at edgy stencils by an art student." These are museums. There are floors upon floors, centuries upon centuries of political, cultural and aesthetic ideas bouncing off their walls. We’re not all ‘over it’ once we’ve glanced at the Mona Lisa.

Ditto the warning not to go for a drink in the main square in any given European city because it’s ‘full of tourists’. Is that because it’s the nicest square? I bet it’s because it’s the nicest square. You know the one, where the evening sun lingers the longest and children play quaintly in the fountains amid the pleasant hubbub that comes with popularity. Yep, that one. The one you’ll find me in.

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One that annoys me the most is the, "Everyone takes that picture in front of Machu Picchu/the Grand Canyon" complaint. These people have paid big money or dealt with high altitudes, so I think we’ll allow them one, sweaty, victorious moment on film to prove it. When we get to the view, architectural or natural wonder we’ve dreamt about for years, haven’t we earned the right to take a cheeky picture in front of it? I want to remember that moment when I’m a wizened old lady with only hologram photo albums to weep fondly over.

This year, my mission is to find new ways to enjoy the old favourites. In New York, I’m going back to The Met to take its BadASS Bitches tour, which tells the stories of several dozen badder bitches than Taylor Swift who appear within its frames and on its plinths. Having toured it, I’m dying to enjoy a sunset dinner with a Colosseum view in Rome (at Aroma, FYI); and I’d love to go with a guide to Bangkok’s glitzy, hard-to-decipher Grand Palace (after wandering around cluelessly the first time).

What I’m saying is, charge up your camera battery, ready your ‘I heart NY’ cap and let’s make tourism great again.

Lucy Thackray is commissioning editor of The Sunday Times Travel Magazine.

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