Are You a Hyper Tourist ?

Image courtesy - viewmixed.com

Travelling has the knack of bringing out the abnormal in us. It can either turn us into lazy bums or into the hyper tourist. Of late HT has acquired something of a badass reputation from the breed that prefers to distinguish itself from the hoi-polloi and calls itself a traveller. The traveller will try to immerse himself in the local culture. S/he shuns the comforts of hotels, bathes sparingly, takes a snooze in a cave and licks ant-chutney off the same plate with tribals s/he has just befriended. The HT on the other hand would rather stay in their comfort zone, on the beaten track and in areas where the amenities are similar to what they have at home if not better.

Unlike the traveller who takes off on a whim with just a backpack, the hyper-tourist plans their itinerary like a war strategy. The destination is selected after much deliberation, intense research on the World Wide Web and discussions with other specimens with ample experience of straying. This is followed by further research on familiarising oneself with the new habitation, usually by the female. Pretty soon the female has acquired a formidable collection of anything that starts with ‘top ten’. It can range from ‘must visits, must not visit, hotels – cheap and expensive, local food that give you stomach cramps, bargain haunts, hidden gems that’s public knowledge.’ The more adventurous the female is, the thicker the folder becomes.

Spotting this peculiar type is easy. They stand out like a sore thumb dressed in sneakers and anything that doesn’t go with it. The female carries a handbag large enough to fit a dead body. The male of the species lugs around a camera the size of a Mumbai apartment. They can be seen striking funny poses and clicking anything that looks remotely interesting. It’s only later they discover that the heritage looking building they captured was in fact a urinal.

The femme has the propensity to suddenly go missing and leave her mate in a state of panic. She can be invariably found inside a swish looking store, surveying dresses, shoes and handbags, surreptitiously checking their price-tags and rolling her eyes in horror. Soon she’s seen moonwalking out of the store.

Their favourite activity is walking with a map in hand, looking lost or standing in front of Louvre and asking passers-by where Louvre is. Despite the extensive research that included weather patterns for the next 5 years before packing, they are either sweating or shivering in weather inappropriate clothing. Whatever made you think, weather is like humans that reads its horoscope and behaves accordingly. Of course, it has a mind of its own!

Once the typical tourist sets foot on foreign shores, their energy, adventurous spirit, itinerary starts multiplying like rabbits and their legs transmute into wheels. It’s not a day well spent till they have covered 25 attractions and come back to the hotel with a back-ache, leg-ache, headache and shoulder ache. Stomach ache is always an added bonanza.

There exists another variant - ‘the typical terrible tourist (T4)’ and is usually a fellow Indian. You can usually hear them before you can see them. If you are taking a flight out of the country, you are most likely to find your toe under their foot while you wait for your turn to get into the aircraft. If it’s your lucky day, you might even get your kidney knocked out by their elbow. After appropriating baggage space from fellow passengers by arguing loudly, they’ll make themselves comfortable by poking those seated a row ahead with their knees. You are in danger of losing your hair, sanity, patience as their cublings emit shrill sounds while running up and down the aisle.

T4s exhibit their finest traits when travelling to foreign habitats. Despite carrying four suitcases and six handbags, they prefer leaving their manners behind. If you managed to miss them on your flight, you’re most likely to find them at a Madam Tussaud’s near you, posing with the wax statue of Amitabh Bachchan that bears no resemblance to him.

They also suffer from a deep aversion to the unfamiliar despite seeking it. Even though they spend wads of money to travel, they have little or no interest in about learning about the place they’re visiting. And why would they? Most of them travel for the sake of their relatives and neighbours who they can turn green with envy.

T4 prefers moving around in a herd, either with its Barjatiya sized families or tour groups and gazillion packets of bhujiya. It has a strong preference for having private conversations in public so that the entire world can hear T4 describe the Piaget it bought for 15 lacs. Interestingly, despite its extravagant tastes, it takes great pains to seek out the cheapest eateries, avoids paying tips and freebies it can grab from hotels and stores.

It doesn’t take too long for the tourist to start missing home. The same home they were itching to get away from. After the initial euphoria of picturesque landscapes, unfamiliar cuisine, clean cities where everything works and everyone diligently follows rules, they start craving the familiar comfort of their own habitat. A place where things seldom work, people rarely follow rules and the chaos constantly keeps you on tenterhooks. The dust, the heat chokes you, the traffic exasperates you, yet it feels so good to be back. The heart beating to the rhythm of blaring horns, you step outside the airport, inhale the toxins, and sigh with relief.

One needs to be away from home to realise what a great feeling home is.