Who Are Travelers?

As part of the team at a to-remain-nameless travel magazine I received a lot of flack for my favorite destination. It was a source of anxiety to announce, once I took my chosen vacation days, where I would be heading off to.

“Oh… You’re going to Disney World again?”

“Well… It’s an annual tradition.”

“Yeah…”

Yeah. Not exactly a homecoming. But deep in my little heart of hearts I was just so happy to be away. And once I was locked inside the Epcot park, I was even happier.

Between the somewhat realistic World Pavilions, Epcot’s answer to a trip to the major countries of the globe, kids were running back and forth with Venetian masks created from feathers and Elmer’s glue and brightly colored Japanese lollipop art, dancing in circles to a bagpipe. Not everyone is as fortunate as I am to really be in these places. Not every family can just jet off and buy a real Venetian mask. And maybe that family of four saved up for years for that weekend trip to Disney, many of them do, but what they have created is the curiosity of what lies around the globe, and the excitement of packing your bags and going. Those children covered in glitter, hands sticky from apple juice and sweaty with excitement, just got a crash course in wanderlust. They’ll take that with them and someday, they’ll board a plane.

there’s a stigma that comes along with the idea. Travel is for a certain group of people, a specific demographic. Travelers look and act a certain way. This is the trap many of us fall into when we assume the single mother maneuvering the grocery line has never left town, or the Southern gentleman with his gentle twang and love of home cooked grits has yet to taste the red meat of a whale. We stereotype the idea of this traveler: the one with dirty boots and a backpack, Swiss army knife ready to go, guidebook haphazardly tossed aside because he doesn’t need it. He could probably suck the venom out of a snake bite and wouldn’t be caught dead in a Hilton, not if his life depended on it.

In reality though, travel is open to nearly anyone. Distance need not be a factor since you can learn just as much about the world in Anapolis as Abu Dhabi. Travelers are men and women and children. They carry wheelie bags, duffel bags, no bags. They rely on smart phones, paper maps, intuition. They’re favorite meals are street carts, grocery stores, 5-star dining. They feel at home on a boat in the Caribbean, in Edinburgh or Entebbe, on the Sydney Harbour Bridge, in Disneyland.

Once, back at Epcot, I sat back on a relaxing boat ride through the Mexico Pavilion. It played Mariachi and showed scenes from Ixtapa, Cancun, Mexico City. Behind me, as with most places in the park, a child was crying.

“I want to go for real!”
“There’s no real Donald Duck there.”
“I know. I just want to go for REAL.”
“Okay, someday.”
“Ok! Someday! Soon!”