Rediscovering the Lost Art of Travel

a man on a bicycle in Mezöberény
Posted: 5/16/2019 | May 16th, 2019

Seth Kugel is the former Frugal Traveler columnist for the New York Times and author of the new Rediscovering Travel: A Guide for the Globally Curious, from which this is adapted. I’ve known him for years and our travel philosophy dovetails a lot. I read his book last year and thought “If I were ever to write a book on the state of the travel industry, this is the book I would write!” It’s a great book and today, Seth excerpted part of the book for us!

Stenciled in white block letters on a dreary cement wall in Mezöberény, a tidy but fraying town of twelve thousand in the hyperbolically named Great Hungarian Plain, appeared the word:

SZESZFÖZDE

Hours earlier, in the overcast predawn hours of a nippy January day, I had stumbled off the Bucharest-to-Budapest train to see what it would be like to spend the weekend in the opposite of a tourist destination. Mezöberény was not just absent from guidebooks — it did not have a single restaurant, hotel, or activity listed on TripAdvisor, something that cannot be said for Mbabara, Uganda, or Dalanzadgad, Mongolia. I did have some info on the town, though, thanks to its municipal website: resident József Halász had recently celebrated his ninetieth birthday.

Or that’s what Google Translate told me. Hungarian is a Uralic language, more closely related to the output you might get falling asleep on a keyboard than to English or German or French. That makes even basic comprehension a challenge, as I found as soon as I rushed from the train to the station’s restrooms and faced the urgent need to choose between two doors: FÉRFI and NÖI. The authorities had apparently saved a few forints by not splurging on stick-figure signs.

The day had been born cold and gray and stayed that way as I walked through the town, slowly getting my bearings, intrigued by the pre-war, pre-Communist homes and the more than occasional bike rider — there were almost more bikes than cars — who waved hello. But then a winter drizzle took up, causing an abrupt decline in the number of cyclists even as the number of wandering American visitors held steady at one. To me, a travel day that turns rainy is like a piece of chocolate I’ve dropped on the floor: it’s significantly less appealing, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to throw it away.

It was in the first minutes of rain that I came across that stenciled sign on an otherwise residential street. Beyond the wall, down a cracking, now puddle-pocked driveway, were a dozen or so plastic barrels lined up like nuclear-waste drums. Beyond them, maybe a hundred feet from where I stood, was a one-story L-shaped building. What was this place? Well, SZESZFÖZDE, apparently. But what was that?

In the old days (say, 2009), I would have pulled out an English-Hungarian phrase book or pocket dictionary, but instead, I activated international roaming on my phone, carefully spelled out S-Z-E-S- Z-F-O-Z-D-E, and tapped Go.

Szeszföde distillery in Mezöberény, Hungary

The less-than-lightning speed of Great Hungarian Plain mobile service provided a dramatic pause. And then came my answer:

DISTILLERY.

You don’t say.

I would have guessed PRIVATE PROPERTY maybe, or DANGER—STAY OUT, or MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS, YOU MEDDLING FOREIGNER! But a distillery? A wave of adrenaline washed down my torso as my lips curled into a dumb-luck smile.

Two rather gruff-looking men emerged from the door, the older one smoking a cigarette and wearing a sweater and work-stained trousers that suggested Warsaw Pact 1986 more than modern-day European Union. I waved to them, pointed to the bulky Canon 7D hanging from my neck, and then to the building. Old-school Google Translate.

They waved me in and gave me a tour.

Inside the ancient but fully functioning distillery, the men let me take pictures as they gave me a vaguely intelligible lesson via pointing, expressive looks, and smartphone-translated Hungarian, on how pálinka — Hungarian fruit brandy — was made.

Those barrels I had seen outside, it turned out, were full of fermenting pear and grape and apple juices. Inside, it was distilled somehow through a looping and tangled system of pipes running out of tin tanks up and along the walls. It looked like the laboratory of a mad scientist with a penchant for tacky linoleum flooring.

As they led me around, I engaged in that most intrinsic of travel activities: trying to see the world from the vantage point of someone utterly different from me. What was their life like? Had they traveled? Who were their parents and grandparents? The language barrier that did not allow them to answer did not stop me from wondering.

After soaking in every rusty detail and every glint of pride in the men’s tired eyes, I typed, “Come visit me in New York” into Google Translate — laughs all around — then headed back onto the drizzly streets of Mezöberény, utterly elated.

What was so great about this moment? Sure, the szeszfözde was a neat little story for friends, and in my case, worth a few paragraphs in the newspaper. But wasn’t it just a grimy business making local hooch in a town that even most Hungarians would classify as the middle of nowhere?

a man smokes a cigarette at the Szeszföde distillery in Mezöberény, Hungary

It was a great moment because I discovered it. Not an earth-shattering discovery in the sense of a cure for AIDS or a previously unknown species of poison-spitting neon frog the size of a pinky nail. But it was 100 percent unexpected, 100 percent real, and 100 percent mine.

Discovery used to be the lifeblood of travel, at least for those of us who shun tour-bus groups and all-inclusive resorts. We used to leave home knowing relatively little about our destination — perhaps with some highlighted guidebook pages denoting major attractions and local tipping etiquette, a list of tips culled from well-traveled friends, or articles copied and pasted into a Word document. For the ambitious, maybe a notional feel for the local history or culture gleaned pre-trip from a historical novel.

Beyond that, we were on our own.

Paper guidebooks frozen in time helped us along, as did pamphlets and paper maps from tourist information booths and tips from a hotel concierge. Earlier this century, Google searches in internet cafés also lent a hand. But otherwise, there was no choice: You decided what to do with your own eyes and ears, by wandering, by initiating human-to-human contact. Tips came from hearing fellow travelers’ stories over hostel or (non-Air) B&B breakfasts, entering a shop to ask directions and ending up in a conversation with the owner, or catching a whiff of fresh bread or sizzling chilies and following your nose.

Of course, all that still happens today — but only if you really go out of your way to make it happen. Not only is nearly every place in the world documented to within an inch of its life but that documentation — which comes dressed as both fact and opinion — is overwhelmingly and immediately available, thanks to pervasive technology. That’s great for many things in life — medical information, how-to videos, shorter commutes. But don’t we travel to break our routine? To experience the unexpected? To let the world delight us?

If we do, we have a funny way of showing it. We pore over online reviews for weeks, plan days down to the half hour, and then let GPS and the collected wisdom of the unwise lead us blindly. We mean well — no one wants to have a romantic dinner go wrong or to get lost and miss out on a “must-see attraction” or to risk chaos by failing to keep the kids entertained for three minutes.

But isn’t that just a digital version of the old-fashioned group tour? Well, almost, except that on the bus tour, you actually get to meet the person whose advice you’re taking.

One of my most ironclad rules of travel is this: the number of visitors a place receives is inversely related to how nice locals are to those visitors. Mezöberény, as far as I knew, had received precisely no foreign tourists ever. It was the anti-Paris, and this distillery the anti-Louvre.

People who inhabit the still-plentiful tourist-free swaths of the planet tend to be not only just nicer but more curious. They say a bear in the wild is just as scared of you as you are of it. I say people in places where outsiders rarely go are just as curious about visitors as visitors are about them. The question is not why the distillery workers invited me — a camera-toting, gibberish-talking stranger — in for a tour, it’s why wouldn’t they? If it were me, I’d be thinking: “What is this odd foreigner doing outside our szeszfözde with a camera? Wait till I tell the kids! And by the way, isn’t it about time we took a break?”

More importantly, is it possible that stumbling upon a dank distillery might be just as thrilling as a tour of one of the world’s great monuments? Did the surge of emotion I felt when the word distillery popped onto my screen match what I felt when I first glanced up at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel?

Probably not, although I remember the distillery moment quite precisely and barely recall what I felt at the Sistine Chapel. Why? Because although Michelangelo’s prophets and sibyls and biblical re-creations are several trillion times lovelier than rusty pipes in a concrete building reeking of fermented fruit, I had seen them before in photos, heard professors talk about them, and read other travelers’ accounts as I sought the best times to avoid crowds.

That’s why I believe it is time we rediscover travel and recognize the value of what an overdocumented world has taken away: the delight of making things happen on your own.

***

Rediscovering Travel: A Guide for the Globally CuriousSeth is the former Frugal Traveler columnist for the New York Times and author of the new Rediscovering Travel: A Guide for the Globally Curious, from which this is adapted.

In this book, Kugel challenges the modern travel industry with a determination to reignite humanity’s age-old sense of adventure that has virtually been vanquished in this spontaneity-obliterating digital age. You can purchase the book at Amazon and give it a read.

Book Your Trip: Logistical Tips and Tricks

Book Your Flight
Find a cheap flight by using Skyscanner or Momondo. They are my two favorite search engines because they search websites and airlines around the globe so you always know no stone is left unturned.

Book Your Accommodation
You can book your hostel with Hostelworld as they have the largest inventory. If you want to stay somewhere other than a hostel, use Booking.com as they consistently return the cheapest rates for guesthouses and cheap hotels. I use them all the time.

Don’t Forget Travel Insurance
Travel insurance will protect you against illness, injury, theft, and cancellations. It’s comprehensive protection in case anything goes wrong. I never go on a trip without it as I’ve had to use it many times in the past. I’ve been using World Nomads for ten years. My favorite companies that offer the best service and value are:

Looking for the best companies to save money with?
Check out my resource page for the best companies to use when you travel! I list all the ones I use to save money when I travel – and that will save you time and money too!

The post Rediscovering the Lost Art of Travel appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.

Want to Write for Nomadic Matt? Here’s How!

a woman in a yellow sweater writes from her laptop
Updated: 04/22/19 | April 22, 2019

Earlier this year, I announced I was opening this website up to guest posters. For years, I turned away unsolicited guest posts, but, this year, I decided it was time to change that policy as I want to add more voices, opinions, stories, and tips to this site.

I want to bring in people out there who have helpful information and insight I might not have, especially now that I’m traveling a lot less.

So, if you’d like to write for this site, here are our guidelines for submissions:

What Content Do We Want?

First, what kind of submissions are we looking for? We’re interested in the following (and only the following) areas:

  • LGBT content: stories by transgender people, queer couples, and solo gay, lesbian, or bi travelers
  • Africa-related content (bonus points if it’s East or Central Africa and Egypt related)
  • Middle East–related content
  • Central Asia–related content
  • India-related content
  • China-related content
  • Technology- or gear-related content

Your pitches should have a focus on budget-related issues: cheap things what to do, budget accommodation, good companies or apps to use, travel hacks, or ways to save money. We want the kind of service article that will help readers travel cheaper, better, and longer.

Of course, travel stories are great too, so long as they contain a lesson or advice that can be used to help people travel.

Typical posts are 1,000-2,000 words, are super detailed, contain lots of useful links, and have tips and tricks not found elsewhere. I love insider knowledge!

How to Submit a Post

Send an email to matt@nomadicmatt.com with the exact title “New Guest Writer Article Submission”

Include the following:

  • Your travel history
  • Your blog or channel
  • A link to two other guest posts you’ve done
  • Your topic idea(s), with suggested title(s) and description(s) of the article(s)

Here’s an example of a good email:

Hi Matt,

My name is John and I’m writing about submitting a guest post on your site. I’ve been traveling the world for ten years, with a focus on Africa. For the last six months, I’ve been traveling around East Africa as a backpacker and have a lot of resources that can help. My blog is johnsworld.com, and I’ve written some posts on the subject that can be found here and here.

My proposed topic is “How to Visit Tanzania on a Budget,” which will focus on how to get around, eat, and safari without spending a lot or money or doing an expensive tour. The idea here is to show people you can travel the country independently.

Here are links to some of my writing so you can see I can put words together.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

John

Simple and to the point. If I like your pitch, I’ll reply. Please DO NOT follow up. While tenacity can often be appreciated, DO NOT follow up. I get too many emails.

Please follow the rules above too. I like people with an attention to details so if you send an email with the wrong subject line or miss any of the other following rules, we’ll delete your pitch!

Finally, please note that if you send me a draft and I find that it will be too much work to edit, I reserve the right to reject it. Additionally, since I am pretty picky, there’s also 99% chance I’ll ask you to make changes to your draft so please expect notes and rewrites.

Oh, and we pay $250 USD per post.

That’s really it.

If you have any questions, leave them in the comments.

Matt

The post Want to Write for Nomadic Matt? Here’s How! appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.

The Atlas of Happiness: Discovering the World’s Secret to Happiness with Helen Russell

Best selling author Helen Russell posing for a photo
Posted: 4/4/2019 | April 4th, 2019

A few years ago, I read the book The Year of Living Danishly by Helen Russell. I think it originally came up as a suggested book on Amazon. I can’t fully remember. But, I stuck it in my queue, ordered it, and it sat on my bookshelf until it was time to read it. I couldn’t put it down. It was funny, well written, interesting, and an insightful look into Danish culture. It was one of my favorite books I read that year.

Last year, I somehow convinced Helen to speak at TravelCon and got to meet her in person. Now, she has a new book out called The Atlas of Happiness. It’s about why people in certain places are happier than others. It’s a phenomenal book (you should get it). Today, Helen shares some of what she learned in researching that book!

Here’s a funny thing: if you’ve been online today for more than a fraction of a second, you may have started to get the sense that the world is A Terrible Place. Even the committed traveler with an open mind could be forgiven for thinking that the outlook is pretty bleak.

And if you’ve seen the headlines today or been on social media and you’re feeling low as a result, you’re not alone.

It’s easy to get the idea that the world is becoming more miserable by the minute and that happiness is a luxury in these troubled times.

But over the past six years, I’ve learned that there are people all around the world finding ways to stay happy, every day. And that happiness is something we’re hardwired to seek out – wherever we are.

I started researching happiness in 2013 when I relocated from the UK to Denmark. I’d spent 12 years living and working in London as a journalist, and I had no intention of leaving, until out of the blue one wet Wednesday, my husband came home and told me he’d been offered his dream job…working for Lego in rural Jutland. I was skeptical to start with — I had a good career, a nice flat, great friends, close family — I had a life.

Okay, so my husband and I both worked long hours, we were tired all the time, and never seemed to be able to see each other very much. We regularly had to bribe ourselves to get through the day and we’d both been ill on and off for the past six months.

But that was normal, right?

We thought we were ‘living the dream.’ I was 33 years old and we’d also been trying for a baby for as long as either of us could remember, enduring years of fertility treatment, but we were always so stressed that it never quite happened.

So when my husband was offered a job in Denmark, this ‘other life’ possibility was dangled in front of us — the chance to swap everything we knew for the unknown. Denmark had just been voted the world’s happiest country in the UN’s annual report and I became fascinated by this. How had a tiny country of just 5.5m people managed to pull off the happiest nation on earth title? Was there something in the water? And if we couldn’t get happier in Denmark, where could we get happier?

During our first visit, we noticed that there was something a bit different about the Danes we met. They didn’t look like us, for starters — quite apart from the fact that they were all strapping Vikings towering over my 5’3” frame — they looked more relaxed and healthier. They walked more slowly. They took their time to stop and eat together, or talk, or just…breathe.

And we were impressed.

My Lego Man husband was sold on the idea and begged me to move, promising we’d relocate for my career next time. And I was so worn out by my hectic London life that I found myself agreeing. I quit my job to go freelance and decided I would give it a year, investigating the Danish happiness phenomenon first hand — looking at a different area of living each month to find out what Danes did differently.

From food to family life; work culture to working out; and design to the Danish welfare state — each month I would throw myself into living ‘Danishly’ to see if it made me any happier and if I could change the way I lived as a result. I decided I would interview as many Danes, expats, psychologists, scientists, economists, historians, sociologists, politicians, everyone, in fact, to try to uncover the secrets to living Danishly.

I documented my experiences for two UK newspapers before being asked to write a book: The Year of Living Danishly, Uncovering the Secrets of the World’s Happiest Country.

Since then, I’ve been humbled and moved to hear from readers from across the globe with wide-ranging life perspectives, but the one constant was a need to share the happiness secrets of their own cultures. Some of the themes that sprung out were universal — such as social interactions, exercising out of doors and finding a balance in life — while others were intriguingly unique.

The Atlas of Happiness book cover by Helen RussellSo I set out to research into unique happiness concepts from around the world, interviewing people internationally until The Atlas of Happiness — my new book-baby — was born. It isn’t a compendium of the happiest countries; instead, it’s a look at what’s making people happier in different places. Because if we only look at the countries already coming top of the happiness polls, we miss out on ideas and knowledge from cultures we’re less familiar with.

Nowhere is perfect. Every country has faults. But I wanted to celebrate the best parts of a country’s culture as well as national characteristics at their finest – because that’s what we should all be aiming for.

Here are a few of my favorites:

Did you know, for example, that in Portuguese there’s something called saudade — a feeling of longing, melancholy, and nostalgia for a happiness that once was — or even a happiness you merely hoped for?

And while Brazil may be famous for its carnival spirit, the flipside of this, saudade, is so central to the Brazilian psyche that it’s even been given its own official ‘day’ on the 30th of January every year.

Most of us will have experienced a bittersweet pleasure in moments of melancholy — flicking through old photos, or caring about anyone enough to miss them when they’re gone.

And scientists have found that this temporary sadness — counter-intuitively — makes us happier: providing catharsis; improving our attention to detail; increasing perseverance and promoting generosity. So we should all spend time remembering those we’ve loved and lost — then practice being a little more grateful for the ones still around.

Finland ranked number one in this year’s UN World Happiness report thanks to a great quality of life, free healthcare, and education funded by high taxes.

But there’s also something else the Finns enjoy that’s infinitely more exportable: kalsarikännit — defined as ‘drinking at home in your underwear with no intention of going out’ — a pursuit so popular it even has its own emoji, commissioned by The Finnish Foreign Ministry.

In common with most Scandinavians, Finns aren’t shy about disrobing, and they all have such enviably well-insulated houses that stripping down to their pants is apparently completely okay even when it’s minus 35 degrees outside. What you drink and crucially how much of it you knock back is down to the individual, but it’s a uniquely Finnish form of happiness and mode of relaxation that we can all give a go.

Best selling author Helen Russell working on her laptop

In Greece, they have a concept called meraki that refers to an introspective, precise expression of care, usually applied to a cherished pastime — and it’s keeping Greeks happy despite turbulent times. This is because having a hobby improves our quality of life according to scientists, and challenging ourselves to do something different also creates new neural pathways in our brain. Having a passion that you take pride can be of extra benefit to those who can’t say the same for their primary occupation.

Because meraki can make life worthwhile if your 9-5 is more of a daily grind. Many tasks that need to be taken care of on a day-to-day basis aren’t particularly challenging or inspiring – from filing, to raising purchase orders or even — dare I say it — some of the more gruelling aspects of parenting.

But we can break up the never-ending cycle of mundane work with our own personal challenges — things that we’re passionate about that we can genuinely look forward to doing. Our meraki.

Dolce far niente — or the sweetness of doing nothing — is a much-treasured concept in Italy — often hashtagged on Instagram accompanying pictures of Italians in hammocks. Okay, so Italy hasn’t exactly topped any happiness rankings in recent years, but the cliché of the carefree Italian still exists – and with good reason.

Italians do ‘nothing’ like no other nation and perfecting the art takes style and skill – because there’s more to it than meets the eye. It’s watching the world go by over coffee and a cornetto. It’s laughing at tourists. Or politicians. And crucially it’s about savoring the moment and really enjoying the present. Many of us search for relaxation by traveling to exotic locations, drinking to oblivion, or trying to blot out the noise of modern life.

But Italians let the chaos wash over them. Instead of saving up our ‘fun quota’ for an annual escape, they spread it over the minutes, hours and days throughout the year and ‘enjoy life’ in all its messy reality.

One of the happiest countries in the world, the Norwegians must be doing something right. And quite aside from their enviable Scandi-lifestyles and the safety net of all that oil, Norwegians have a secret ace card up their sleeves: a concept called friluftsliv. This roughly translates as ‘free air life’ and it’s a code of conduct as well as a life goal for most Norwegians – who like to spend time outdoors and get high, as often as possible.

Anyone who’s ever visited the country will know that if you meet a Norwegian out in nature, their objective tends to be the highest mountain nearby – and there’s a saying in Norway that “You must make an effort before you can have pleasure’.

Most Norwegians believe you have to work for things, to earn them with physical endeavors, battling the elements. Only once you’ve climbed a mountain in the rain and cold, can you truly enjoy your dinner. It’s an old fashioned approach to the good life but numerous studies show that using our bodies and getting out into nature as often as possible boosts mental and physical wellbeing.

Best selling author Helen Russell posing in front of a colorful mural

Which is all very well, on paper. But how to apply these principles and all the things I’d learned in real life? Well, I took it slowly — dolce far niente style. I had to learn not to be the archetypal Londoner, working all hours. Instead, I had to try relaxing once in a while.

Radical, I know.

Next, I got on the hobby train. I found my meraki in pottery, in cooking and trying out new recipes, often inspired by the countries I was researching. Some weeks, we ate well. Others, not so much (my husband still hasn’t forgiven me for ‘Russian month’). I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve done a fair amount of underwear-drinking, too.

The Finnish concept of kalsarikännit and I are now firm friends. And because I was working less and being more mindful of living well and looking after myself, it was relatively easy to adopt the Norwegian ethos of friluftsliv.

So now I try to ask myself: what did I do today? What did I climb? Where did I go? But the biggest mind shift was the realization that to be happy, we have to be comfortable being sad sometimes, too. That we’re at our healthiest and happiest when we can reconcile ourselves to all our emotions, good and bad.

The Portuguese saudade was a game changer for me — helping me to come to terms with the life I thought I’d have and find a way to move on, without resentment or bitterness. Because when you let go of these things, something pretty amazing can happen.

By learning from other cultures about happiness, wellbeing and how to stay healthy (and sane), I found a way to be less stressed than I was in my old life. I developed a better understanding of the challenges and subtleties of coming from another culture. My empathy levels went up. I learned to care, more.

Optimism isn’t frivolous: it’s necessary. You’re travelers. You get this. But we need to spread the word, now, more than ever. Because we only have one world, so it would be really great if we didn’t mess it up.

Hellen Russell is a British journalist, speaker, and the author of the international bestseller The Year of Living Danishly. Her most recent book, The Atlas of Happiness, examines the cultural habits and traditions of happiness around the globe. Formerly the editor of marieclaire.co.uk, she now writes for magazines and newspapers around the world, including Stylist, The Times, Grazia, Metro, and The i Newspaper.

Book Your Trip: Logistical Tips and Tricks

Book Your Flight
Find a cheap flight by using Skyscanner or Momondo. They are my two favorite search engines because they search websites and airlines around the globe so you always know no stone is left unturned.

Book Your Accommodation
You can book your hostel with Hostelworld as they have the largest inventory. If you want to stay somewhere other than a hostel, use Booking.com as they consistently return the cheapest rates for guesthouses and cheap hotels. I use them all the time.

Don’t Forget Travel Insurance
Travel insurance will protect you against illness, injury, theft, and cancellations. It’s comprehensive protection in case anything goes wrong. I never go on a trip without it as I’ve had to use it many times in the past. I’ve been using World Nomads for ten years. My favorite companies that offer the best service and value are:

Looking for the best companies to save money with?
Check out my resource page for the best companies to use when you travel! I list all the ones I use to save money when I travel – and that will save you time and money too!

The post The Atlas of Happiness: Discovering the World’s Secret to Happiness with Helen Russell appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.

What Does Globalization Really Destroy?

a McDonald's sign in the streets of a tourist area
Posted: 2/25/2019 | February 25th, 2019

While walking down the streets of Medellín, I came across a Dunkin’ Donuts, a donut chain from my hometown of Boston. (It’s the best. Locals are quite attached to Dunkin. Don’t mess with a Massachusetts resident and Dunkin.)

As I looked at the store, a pit formed in my stomach and I got quiet and melancholy.

For days, I had been coming across Starbucks, McDonald’s, KFC, Papa John’s, and now, Dunkin’ Donuts!

Medellín had been overrun by the chains.

Another place ruined by globalization!

Another place where the local character was dying.

Or…was it? (Said in a Morgan Freeman narrator voice.)

Was that Dunkin’ Donuts really a bad thing?

Or that Starbucks I saw earlier? Or all those Papa John’s? (I mean that garlic butter sauce is amazing.)

As I continued down the street, a thought struck me: What had that Dunkin’ Donuts really ruined?

I mean the shops and stalls nearby were still full of life and brimming with customers buying snacks and coffee.

What was really bothering me?

Then it hit me.

I realized that maybe why I got sad was because what Dunkin’ Donuts really had destroyed was not Medellin but what I thought Medellin was.

As travelers, I think we tend to hate “globalization” because we imagine places to be a certain way from books, movies, and our collective cultural consciousness.

We often have this image — based on no firsthand experience — of what a destination should be like and how the people should act. We imagine deserted beaches, or quaint cafés, or rustic old towns, or gritty, worn-down cities because we saw that in a movie or read a book ten years ago. I mean, most Americans still think Colombia is teeming with narcos or that Eastern Europe is still like it was the day after the Iron Curtain fell.

view of skyscrapers in Medellin from the hills

We want the places we visit to fit into the box we mentally created for them. We want our image of them validated.

I mean we in part travel for a sense of adventure and exoticness. To be explorers and find spots devoid of any outside influence.

Globalization stops all that from happening.

Suddenly, we’re walking down the street — and we see a part of home.

Our illusion – the myth we created about the destination we are in – is shattered.

“Well, there’s a Starbucks. The tourists are here. This place is ruined now.”

But is that really a bad thing?

When we imagine how someplace should be — like Thai islands with little huts and empty beaches, or rural villages filled with only local food and pushcart vendors — we seek to freeze the world (and often with an air of leftover colonialism).

We forget that places aren’t Disneyland and it’s not 100 years ago. Things change. Places develop, mature, and move on. The world around us hasn’t stood frozen in time to act like our theme park. (And this doesn’t even touch the tip of the iceberg around the colonialism / Western stereotypes associated with these ideas.)

Would I rather see the world full of mom-and-pop stores and no Dunkin’ Donuts in Medellín?

On the surface, yes.

But if I really think about it, that’s because I want to escape my home, not be reminded of it. It’s because I’d like the world to match the one I see in books and movies. It’s because no one is completely immune to the views I just talked about. I’ve created a castle in the sky that I don’t want to see destroyed.

But part of the art of discovery is having your preconceptions shattered.

For example, most Americans (and maybe even most people in the world) view Colombia as this remote jungle full of coffee, crime, fruit, and narcos roaming the street. It’s gritty and dangerous.

But Colombia is nothing like people think it is. Medellín has one of the best transportation systems I’ve ever seen outside Scandinavia, and Wi-Fi is everywhere. There’s also some incredible Michelin star–worthy gastronomy taking place here. Bogotá has world-class museums. Digital nomads flock there. The roads are stellar. Many young people speak English, they are educated, and they are very informed of world events.

a McDonald's sign in the streets of a tourist area

So, as Colombia sheds its narco past and embraces the world as much as the world embraces it, should we – I – be surprised that the guy riding in a little jeep is playing Taylor Swift, or that burgers and pizzas and gin and tonics are really popular? Should we be surprised that Colombians want a taste of the world too?

We often think of globalization as a one-way street, where the Western chains “invade” other countries. Our conversation in the West is always about how we’re ruining other places.

Yet these places don’t survive on tourist dollars alone. Locals do eat there. Who are we to tell them no?

And I often think about the reverse: when people from other non-Western cultures travel, do they have the same reaction?

Do Colombians travel somewhere and go, “Ugh, a mondongo place here? This place is ruined.”

Do Italians hate the sight of pizza on vacation?

Do the Japanese lament seeing sushi abroad?

I don’t want to see the golden arches next to the Pyramids, but is it so bad that there are some franchises in Egypt? Who are we to say, “Hey, you can’t have that. I want to imagine your country as this Arabian Nights fantasy! Get rid of that pizza place! Where are the guys on camels?”

Whether it’s a chain or just a type of cuisine, I don’t think the mingling of cultures is such a bad.

Globalization is not perfect. And, of course, its benefits aren’t balanced. People have written volumes on this subject. Let’s leave that aside. I’m not here to discuss that. I’m here to ponder globalization and our perceptions of it as travelers.

That Dunkin’ Donuts reminded me that the globalized world that allows me to be in Medellín also allows Colombians to access not only my culture but other cultures as well.

I think we need to stop viewing globalization through the myopic one-way lens of being a Western traveler.

Do we really want places to stay impoverished / secluded / unconnected so we can have an “authentic” experience based on some fantasy we have about a destination? Do we really not want the locals to experience pizza, or burgers, or Scotch, jazz music, or Thai pop, or anything else not local?

I don’t think we should look at globalization as causing a place to be “ruined.” Cultures are always in flux.

The same process that has brought unfamiliar cultures to us has also brought parts of our culture (among others) there.

When you have more cultures interacting with each other, you get to understand that everyone is a human being and shares the same wants and needs.

And I think that is something we should celebrate.

Matt’s note: Before everyone freaks out in the comments, let me be clear: I am not saying globalization is all rainbows and unicorns. There are a lot of problems with multi-national corporations, specifically, when it comes to taxes, labor, and how much money they keep in a country. There are also a lot of environmental and social problems related to outsourcing. Those are important social and economic issues that need to be addressed politically so that everyone can share the benefits of a more globalized world. I don’t deny there are problems. But this post is simply about looking at the issue from a traveler’s perspective.

Book Your Trip: Logistical Tips and Tricks

Book Your Flight
Find a cheap flight by using Skyscanner or Momondo. They are my two favorite search engines because they search websites and airlines around the globe so you always know no stone is left unturned.

Book Your Accommodation
You can book your hostel with Hostelworld as they have the largest inventory. If you want to stay somewhere other than a hotel, use Booking.com as they consistently return the cheapest rates for guesthouses and cheap hotels. I use them all the time.

Don’t Forget Travel Insurance
Travel insurance will protect you against illness, injury, theft, and cancellations. It’s comprehensive protection in case anything goes wrong. I never go on a trip without it as I’ve had to use it many times in the past. I’ve been using World Nomads for ten years. My favorite companies that offer the best service and value are:

Looking for the best companies to save money with?
Check out my resource page for the best companies to use when you travel! I list all the ones I use to save money when I travel – and I think will help you too!

The post What Does Globalization Really Destroy? appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.

What Does Globalization Really Destroy?

a McDonald's sign in the streets of a tourist area
Posted: 2/25/2019 | February 25th, 2019

While walking down the streets of Medellín, I came across a Dunkin’ Donuts, a donut chain from my hometown of Boston. (It’s the best. Locals are quite attached to Dunkin. Don’t mess with a Massachusetts resident and Dunkin.)

As I looked at the store, a pit formed in my stomach and I got quiet and melancholy.

For days, I had been coming across Starbucks, McDonald’s, KFC, Papa John’s, and now, Dunkin’ Donuts!

Medellín had been overrun by the chains.

Another place ruined by globalization!

Another place where the local character was dying.

Or…was it? (Said in a Morgan Freeman narrator voice.)

Was that Dunkin’ Donuts really a bad thing?

Or that Starbucks I saw earlier? Or all those Papa John’s? (I mean that garlic butter sauce is amazing.)

As I continued down the street, a thought struck me: What had that Dunkin’ Donuts really ruined?

I mean the shops and stalls nearby were still full of life and brimming with customers buying snacks and coffee.

What was really bothering me?

Then it hit me.

I realized that maybe why I got sad was because what Dunkin’ Donuts really had destroyed was not Medellin but what I thought Medellin was.

As travelers, I think we tend to hate “globalization” because we imagine places to be a certain way from books, movies, and our collective cultural consciousness.

We often have this image — based on no firsthand experience — of what a destination should be like and how the people should act. We imagine deserted beaches, or quaint cafés, or rustic old towns, or gritty, worn-down cities because we saw that in a movie or read a book ten years ago. I mean, most Americans still think Colombia is teeming with narcos or that Eastern Europe is still like it was the day after the Iron Curtain fell.

view of skyscrapers in Medellin from the hills

We want the places we visit to fit into the box we mentally created for them. We want our image of them validated.

I mean we in part travel for a sense of adventure and exoticness. To be explorers and find spots devoid of any outside influence.

Globalization stops all that from happening.

Suddenly, we’re walking down the street — and we see a part of home.

Our illusion – the myth we created about the destination we are in – is shattered.

“Well, there’s a Starbucks. The tourists are here. This place is ruined now.”

But is that really a bad thing?

When we imagine how someplace should be — like Thai islands with little huts and empty beaches, or rural villages filled with only local food and pushcart vendors — we seek to freeze the world (and often with an air of leftover colonialism).

We forget that places aren’t Disneyland and it’s not 100 years ago. Things change. Places develop, mature, and move on. The world around us hasn’t stood frozen in time to act like our theme park. (And this doesn’t even touch the tip of the iceberg around the colonialism / Western stereotypes associated with these ideas.)

Would I rather see the world full of mom-and-pop stores and no Dunkin’ Donuts in Medellín?

On the surface, yes.

But if I really think about it, that’s because I want to escape my home, not be reminded of it. It’s because I’d like the world to match the one I see in books and movies. It’s because no one is completely immune to the views I just talked about. I’ve created a castle in the sky that I don’t want to see destroyed.

But part of the art of discovery is having your preconceptions shattered.

For example, most Americans (and maybe even most people in the world) view Colombia as this remote jungle full of coffee, crime, fruit, and narcos roaming the street. It’s gritty and dangerous.

But Colombia is nothing like people think it is. Medellín has one of the best transportation systems I’ve ever seen outside Scandinavia, and Wi-Fi is everywhere. There’s also some incredible Michelin star–worthy gastronomy taking place here. Bogotá has world-class museums. Digital nomads flock there. The roads are stellar. Many young people speak English, they are educated, and they are very informed of world events.

a McDonald's sign in the streets of a tourist area

So, as Colombia sheds its narco past and embraces the world as much as the world embraces it, should we – I – be surprised that the guy riding in a little jeep is playing Taylor Swift, or that burgers and pizzas and gin and tonics are really popular? Should we be surprised that Colombians want a taste of the world too?

We often think of globalization as a one-way street, where the Western chains “invade” other countries. Our conversation in the West is always about how we’re ruining other places.

Yet these places don’t survive on tourist dollars alone. Locals do eat there. Who are we to tell them no?

And I often think about the reverse: when people from other non-Western cultures travel, do they have the same reaction?

Do Colombians travel somewhere and go, “Ugh, a mondongo place here? This place is ruined.”

Do Italians hate the sight of pizza on vacation?

Do the Japanese lament seeing sushi abroad?

I don’t want to see the golden arches next to the Pyramids, but is it so bad that there are some franchises in Egypt? Who are we to say, “Hey, you can’t have that. I want to imagine your country as this Arabian Nights fantasy! Get rid of that pizza place! Where are the guys on camels?”

Whether it’s a chain or just a type of cuisine, I don’t think the mingling of cultures is such a bad.

Globalization is not perfect. And, of course, its benefits aren’t balanced. People have written volumes on this subject. Let’s leave that aside. I’m not here to discuss that. I’m here to ponder globalization and our perceptions of it as travelers.

That Dunkin’ Donuts reminded me that the globalized world that allows me to be in Medellín also allows Colombians to access not only my culture but other cultures as well.

I think we need to stop viewing globalization through the myopic one-way lens of being a Western traveler.

Do we really want places to stay impoverished / secluded / unconnected so we can have an “authentic” experience based on some fantasy we have about a destination? Do we really not want the locals to experience pizza, or burgers, or Scotch, jazz music, or Thai pop, or anything else not local?

I don’t think we should look at globalization as causing a place to be “ruined.” Cultures are always in flux.

The same process that has brought unfamiliar cultures to us has also brought parts of our culture (among others) there.

When you have more cultures interacting with each other, you get to understand that everyone is a human being and shares the same wants and needs.

And I think that is something we should celebrate.

Matt’s note: Before everyone freaks out in the comments, let me be clear: I am not saying globalization is all rainbows and unicorns. There are a lot of problems with multi-national corporations, specifically, when it comes to taxes, labor, and how much money they keep in a country. There are also a lot of environmental and social problems related to outsourcing. Those are important social and economic issues that need to be addressed politically so that everyone can share the benefits of a more globalized world. I don’t deny there are problems. But this post is simply about looking at the issue from a traveler’s perspective.

Book Your Trip: Logistical Tips and Tricks

Book Your Flight
Find a cheap flight by using Skyscanner or Momondo. They are my two favorite search engines because they search websites and airlines around the globe so you always know no stone is left unturned.

Book Your Accommodation
You can book your hostel with Hostelworld as they have the largest inventory. If you want to stay somewhere other than a hotel, use Booking.com as they consistently return the cheapest rates for guesthouses and cheap hotels. I use them all the time.

Don’t Forget Travel Insurance
Travel insurance will protect you against illness, injury, theft, and cancellations. It’s comprehensive protection in case anything goes wrong. I never go on a trip without it as I’ve had to use it many times in the past. I’ve been using World Nomads for ten years. My favorite companies that offer the best service and value are:

Looking for the best companies to save money with?
Check out my resource page for the best companies to use when you travel! I list all the ones I use to save money when I travel – and I think will help you too!

The post What Does Globalization Really Destroy? appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.