Beautiful pictures… I remember that time so well, and these are some excellent picts that bring back such wondeful memories.
But the author’s commentary is awful. Beyond terrible. Clearly this wasn’t written by someone who has any appreciation of the value of simple travel, to experiencing life as closely as possible to the people and cultures you travel among. The idea of trying on someone else’s life for a little bit before moving on an doing it again.
And as far as privilege, everyone I knew was broke most of the time. Travel became creative until you could get a small infusion of funds from parents back home to buy a plane ticket. Privilege, both yes and no.
Certainly, these are young Western travelers who will go home to mostly live Western lives, but compare this to staying home and vegging in front of the TV (no computers back then), or traveling from oneWesternized tourist hotel to the next with a tour guide.
Everyone on the hippie trail had authentic experiences, and not all good. The good included smoking local weed and hashish. That was wonderful, and it set our expectations much higher for what we could grow at home. I’m not fond of the idea of testing out some local heroin, but that wasn’t that big of a deal for most people. It never became a habit for anyone I knew.