Do We Travel to Places or Travel to Take Photos?
Are we really living in the moment if we are always preparing to capture it?
“Beauty can come from the strangest of places, even the most disgusting of places. It’s the ugly things I notice more, because other people tend to ignore the ugly things.” — Savage Beauty by Andrew Bolton
Do you have a desire to travel? To explore new horizons and experience the unknown? It’s not unusual to have that on your bucket list. But when did it become the norm to start our journey with a photo shoot outside a McDonald’s at Heathrow Airport? Right from the off, we approach these experiences with a lens, quite literally, in front of us.
The ritual starts long before we board the plane or pack our bags, even. We are constantly on the lookout for the ‘hottest’ destinations, scrolling through perfectly curated Instagram feeds and Pinterest boards — the height of inspiration — hunting for the most “Instagrammable” spots. We mentally map out our trip not by what we want to learn, taste or feel, but by the photos we plan to take. Each location is simply another tick on our visual bucket list.
Even the places we choose to visit are influenced by their photogenic qualities. We prioritise the picturesque over the profound, the shareable over the meaningful. We often seek out ‘aesthetic’ places, not for their inherent beauty but for their potential to rake in likes and comments on social media. ‘Beauty’ has been replaced by ‘aesthetic’. Aesthetic = likes. Likes = artificial dopamine. Artificial dopamine ≠ authentic joy. This dopamine hit lasts, if we’re being honest with ourselves, a couple of minutes, if that. Whereas, the true joy we get from experiencing the real world drip-feeds into us. It is through this joy that we are able to look back and feel like we’ve lived a fulfilling life, to feel truly satisfied with our actual experiences.
Yet, with the world’s splendour as our backdrop, we stand, eyes down, hunched over, editing, cropping, adding filters to create the perfect story. Not a story of what we see with our own eyes (Sorry, Mother Nature, but sometimes you just don’t match my aesthetic), but a curated false memory that holds its place as an inspiration to others.
Gone are the days when we took photos to capture memories and revisit the nostalgia of the moment. To look back on and transport us back to that magical moment of witnessing such a place. Now, with a phone in front of our eyes, there is a barrier between us and the world. A false presence that never truly experiences the beauty in front of it. The only thought running through our minds: ‘I need to post this on my story… now.”
And while there’s nothing inherently wrong with wanting to share our experiences, the question arises: Are we really living in the moment if we’re always preparing to capture it?
We might miss out on a heartwarming conversation with a local while wandering through a market because we were too focused on finding the best angle. Or we forgo the simple pleasure of savouring a cup of coffee brewed meticulously by a passionate barista because it went cold — all because we were too busy framing it just right against the backdrop of the street.
There’s a deep sense of tragedy in me when I reflect on all of this. Flipping through old photo albums was (and still is) one of my favourite pastimes. Nostalgia, after all, is one of the most beautiful emotions. Each candid shot of my brothers and me, with our goofy smiles and awkward poses, captured the pure essence of those moments in ways no staged photo ever could. I remember the giddiness of picking out the cheesiest postcard to send to my best friend, writing down all the best bits of the trip for her eyes only.
Now, we stare directly down at a faceless audience. No one is asking for a postcard. So how will anyone know that I had such a great time? They need to know.
This is not a healthy mindset to have. But, to me, it feels ingrained, automatic, a habit I, like many others, can’t seem to break. I used to be very harsh on myself, criticising this irrationality. But I’ve started to take a more compassionate approach. Because, of course I feel like this. We live in a world where attention is currency, where our social media presence can feel as real as our physical one.
I’m not sure where to go from here because I don’t think there’s an answer to this. Not on a societal scale, anyway. But maybe the question we should be asking ourselves isn’t, “Do we travel to places or travel to take photos?” Instead, it’s: Am I here to experience the moment, or just to prove I was there? The real challenge is finding a balance — learning to appreciate the beauty of a moment, capturing it if we wish, documenting it even, but in a way that preserves its authenticity. So that when we look back, we can do so with a smile, knowing that what we see isn’t just a filtered memory but an experience we can relive in its full, unfiltered joy.
