Opinion: why travel isn't always as good as it looks
Waiting in security queues, vomiting halfway up mountains and death-defying boat rides – travelling in real life doesn't look anything like Instagram. And thank goodness for that, says travel writer Emma Sparks...
I’m going to let you in on a secret: everyone is lying to you about their travels. Jenny from accounting is jazzing up her Instagram pictures beyond recognition. That drone-toting blogger isn’t always ‘living the dream’. Mozzies bite. Plans fail. Travel can, in fact, totally suck.
As a travel lover my Instagram feed is awash with images that pique my wanderlust: glorious vistas, infinity pools and sun-drenched rooftop bars. Yet the more I scroll, the more dissatisfied I feel.
It’s partly envy, of course – who doesn’t want to float carefree in the Caribbean Sea on a flamingo-shaped lilo? But it’s more than that. Something is awry. Take a closer look; often the colours are too good to be true, the selfies too flawless, the sights miraculously crowd-free.
Tracy Ben/Shutterstock
The ideal vs. the reality
A little Facetune here, a subtle filter there... these photography tweaks are not the problem. However, heavily edited and meticulously orchestrated shots – seen in brochures, on billboards, blogs and, increasingly, social media feeds – often portray unrealistic versions of an experience.
No doubt the intention is to inspire, but when the results are completely unattainable, these images can incite an extreme, particularly ugly case of FOMO (fear of missing out). What are we average Joes supposed to do on our next jolly abroad? How can we possibly live up to the illusion? Perhaps a more pertinent question: why do we even try?
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The fact is, travel isn’t always glamorous. The offline reality paints a very different picture. Behind every smug snap of a passport, boarding pass and glass of overpriced airport bubbly, security queues, boarding scrums and screaming toddlers prevail.
Every pre-planned, wistful mountaintop pose (expensive athleisure wear and full face of make-up optional) is preceded by a steep and sweaty hike. Aspirational marketing techniques have become the modus operandi of the masses.
Life before likes
Despite my growing resentment for this perfectionist culture, I’m part of it. My Insta account is mostly a carefully curated chronology of travel highlights. I once waited 20 minutes for the swarms of tourists on Thailand’s famous Maya Bay (of DiCaprio’s The Beach fame) to disperse so my travel buddy could take a perfectly timed photo of me in the seemingly serene turquoise waters. A recent stint backpacking in Central America was spent coaxing my other half to play the role of Instagram husband. He was, unsurprisingly, far from keen.
I know these are misguided endeavours. The fuzzy feeling that comes with a flurry of likes and comments on a social media post is fleeting. It’s the unphotogenic failures that have a long-lasting impact. Like the time I vomited halfway up a holy mountain in Sri Lanka (sorry Buddha!), making it to the top nonetheless.
Milosz Maslanka/Shutterstock
It didn’t occur to me to document that episode, for obvious reasons, but I remain proud of that achievement. I survived a death-defying boat ride in Nicaragua, but have no evidence of the journey, as reaching for my GoPro would have almost certainly resulted in my death. Life before likes, that’s my motto.
These challenges have made me a savvier, more satisfied traveller; the food poisoning, sea sickness, scams and scary journeys make for great stories, which are far more entertaining for my friends than a series of saturated sunset shots. But there’s more. Between the digitally-enhanced highs and dramatic lows, there’s a whole lot of boredom – which is (thankfully) nothing to boast about.
Matej Kastelic/Shutterstock
As globetrotters, we are experts in waiting. We wait for baggage, for bus tickets, for nine-hour flights to end; we endure the tedium of train delays, crowded border crossings, and oh-so-delightful airport security checks. Few people share these ordeals online (and I’m not suggesting they should), yet they all constitute a huge part of what it is to travel. I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.
Travel’s not as good as it looks. It’s better.
Like a fine wine or your favourite genre of music, your travels should have both high notes and low notes, complex arrangements paired with moments of sweet simplicity. Occasionally you’re challenged. Disappointed, even. Sometimes – just sometimes – you are simply blown away. This blend of ups and downs and everything in between is what makes life truly beautiful.
I believe social media is warping our idea of what it means to see the world, pressurising holidaymakers to have only 100% shareable, envy-inducing experiences while away. Travelling in pursuit of perfection, trying to replicate what advertisers and influencers create, and aiming to provoke jealousy defies the point entirely.
The real joy is found in the blood, sweat and tears of it. The close calls and language barriers. The kindness of strangers when you’re in a fix. To be trite, it’s the ‘inner journey’ that really counts, not a digitised impression of paradise, no matter how pretty.
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