on being a self-proclaimed travel snob

I am a travel snob, and I both love and hate that about myself.

I love that I have had the experiences and opportunities to be able to consider myself a “real traveler”.  I love that when travel stories come up, I can usually tell the best story, no matter what group of people I’m in.

I hate that this makes me come off as arrogant and privileged, and probably annoying to talk to sometimes.

However, I wouldn’t change it for the world.  Hopefully as the years go on, I’ll add to my repertoire and earn my title of travel snob a bit more.  Each adventure I go on shows me a bit more of the craziness of this world, and the things I’ve seen and experienced have opened my eyes to so many new worlds.

After sleeping in hostels and climbing volcanoes, I can’t help but scoff when people go on a week-long, all-inclusive beach holiday and then dub themselves a “wanderlust”.  THAT IS NOT TRAVELING, FOLKS.  That is tourist-ing, and honestly I don’t understand the appeal of it.  $2,000 to lie in the sun and read tabloids for a week?  Yeah, I’m sure you’re getting a real culture shock there…

To me, a large part of the fun of travel is the risk, the surprise of finding out just how different from home a place can be.  If I’m on the other side of the world, I don’t want to eat my favorite fast food from home; I don’t want to sleep in a queen size bed, in a five-star hotel.  Show me how the locals do, immerse me in the culture!  Bring me to the secret places only the adventurers know, show me where to get the yummiest local cuisine!  You know a place I can stay for $4 a night?  Excellent!  I honestly don’t mind sharing a room with some other poor backpackers at this point; they make good pals!

I know many people would turn up their nose at my choice of destination/accommodation/transport/food, and that’s good for them, I guess.  If you’d really rather stay in your safe haven on a resort, that’s fine.  But don’t be surprised when I zone out and start daydreaming of where I can head next with my backpack next time you start telling me about your fabulous trip to the Bahamas