According to new research, when people are choosing a place for a big event, they want to feel unique
2 min
When planning a trip, or seeking a venue for a special celebration, prospective travellers often look at social-media photos of people enjoying possible destinations.
Such selfies can actually make the destinations seem less appealing, according to a recently published study . More specifically, if consumers are considering a place for a self-defining experience such as a wedding, proposal or special vacation, they won’t like it if they see other people pictured there.
The reason, researchers say, is that when a human is featured in a website picture or social-media post of a destination, it can give the viewer a sense that the person pictured has or is signalling ownership of the place.
“We want to stand out by being a little different,” says Zoe Y. Lu , an assistant professor of marketing at Tulane University and the lead author of the paper. “If my cousin saw a picture of my husband proposing to me at a particular national park, for example, my cousin would worry that choosing that same spot to propose to his loved one would be perceived as him being a boring person, lacking a sense of self.”
Across six studies, Lu and two colleagues looked at when and why human presence in online photos lowers viewers’ preference for what she calls “experience venues”—that is, destinations that serve not only as physical spaces but as symbolic arenas that provide a way for people to define themselves.
In one experiment, Lu and her team asked 416 online participants to look at images of two hiking trails, labeled A and B, and to imagine they were picking one for their New Year’s Day hike. Participants liked trail A better than trail B when no person was shown. If there was a hiker present in the photo of trail A but not trail B, viewers preferred trail A significantly less than when no human was shown. “Our theory is that the hiker in the image offers kind of a territorial signal,” says Lu. “It says to our self-identity, ‘Someone else has been here, don’t try their hike, try a hike that seems like nobody has done.’ ”
In another experiment, participants were asked to imagine the photos they were being shown were of two potential wedding locations for themselves. Fifty-three percent of participants chose location A if neither picture included another couple tying the knot. But if another couple was shown in a photo of location A, and not in location B, only 27% of the participants chose location A.
By contrast, in another experiment, participants were told to imagine they were planning a wedding for someone else. As planners, they didn’t mind whether or not a couple was shown in the photo. “Wedding planners aren’t seeking self-identity the way their clients are,” Lu says.
Lu says that her research may have some implications for online marketers. “They might encourage previous customers not to post selfies of special experiences if they want new customers to try those experiences at the same location, which seems counterintuitive, I know,” she says.
Hotels and destinations, too, might reconsider including images of clearly visible guests and visitors in their marketing materials. And social-media influencers might want to skip the selfie in paid posts for destinations, so as not to seem territorial. One exception, Lu notes, is when the person in the photo has an identity that is distinct from that of the viewer, such as the owner of the venue, “but you might want to acknowledge that the person shown is the owner,” she says.
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Hoping to recreate a freewheeling world tour from their youth, two retirees set themselves a ‘no itinerary’ challenge: Can they improvise their way across seven countries?
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Hoping to recreate a freewheeling world tour from their youth, two retirees set themselves a ‘no itinerary’ challenge: Can they improvise their way across seven countries?
4 minIn our 20s, my new husband and I took a year off from our fledgling careers to travel in Southeast Asia. Equipped with paper maps, we began in China and improvised each day’s “itinerary” on the go. A gap year for grown-ups, I called it, although I scarcely qualified as one.
Nearly 40 years later, we are new retirees with the same wanderlust. We wondered: Could we recapture the thrill of winging it, enduring rough roads and cheap hotels?
We could and did, but for 2½ months instead of 12. We mapped out a route that would take us up Africa’s east coast and then—who knows where? Here’s how we rolled and five important lessons we learned on a 6,000-mile trip.
Our first stop was the tiny, car-free island of Lamu, well-known for its high-profile visitors, from Kate Moss to the Obamas. This low-key getaway offered white-sand beaches, dhows — boats you can rent for day cruises and snorkelling — and lots of donkeys, the main mode of transport.
We considered the beachside Peponi Hotel in Shela, a hot spot since the 1960s (Mick Jagger bunked there). But room rates start at $250, far above our per-night budget of $70 or less. When contemplating almost 100 nights of travel, price matters.
So we chose a villa in the dunes called Amani Lamu, $61 per night for an en suite room with a private terrace and shared plunge pool.
We still had a cool Peponi moment come sunset: On the hotel’s whitewashed veranda, we sipped Pepotinis and plotted our next day’s interlude at the Majlis, Lamu’s fanciest resort (from $580).
With a $20 day pass, we could lounge around its pools and beach bars like proper resort habitués.
Lesson learned: Live like billionaires by day and frugal backpackers by night.
Must-go: Across the bay on Manda Island, bunk a night in a thatched-roof bungalow on stilts at Nyla’s Guest House and Kitchen (from $48 with breakfast).
After a dinner of doro wat, a spicy Ethiopian chicken stew and rice, the sound of waves will lull you asleep.
From Lamu, we flew to Aswan in Egypt. Our “plan”: Cruise down the Nile to Luxor, then take a train to Cairo, and venture to Giza’s pyramids.
Turns out it’s the kind of thing one really should book in advance. But at our Aswan hostel, the proprietor, who treated us like guests deserving white-glove service, secured a felucca, a vessel manned by a navigator and captain-cum-cook.
Since we’d booked fewer than 24 hours in advance and there were no other takers, we were its sole passengers for the three-day trip.
One day, we stopped to tour ancient temples and visit a bustling camel fair, but otherwise, we remained on board watching the sunbaked desert slide by.
We slept on futons on the deck under the stars. The cost: about $100 per night per person, including three meals.
Lesson learned: Ask for help. We found Egyptians kind and unfazed by our haplessness, especially when we greeted them respectfully with assalamu alaikum (“Peace to you”).
Must-go: For buys from carpets to kebabs, don’t miss Cairo’s massive Khan el-Khalili bazaar, in business since 1382. We loved the babouche, cute leather slippers, but resisted as our packs were full.
Next stop Tunisia, via a cheap flight on EgyptAir. We loved Tunisia, but left after six days because the weather got chilly.
Fair enough, it was January. We hopped continents by plane and landed in Istanbul, where it snowed. Fortunately, two of Istanbul’s main pleasures involve hot water. We indulged in daily hammams, or Turkish baths, ranging from $30 to $60 for services that included, variously, a massage, a scrub-down and a soak.
Beneath soaring ceilings at the temple-like Kılıç Ali Paşa Halamı, brisk workers sternly wielded linen sacks to dowse my body in a cloud of hot foam.
In between visits to Ottoman-era mosques and the city’s spice markets, we staved off the chill by drinking fruity pomegranate tea and sampling Turkish delight and baklava at tea salons.
A favourite salon: Sekerci Cafer Erol in Kadıköy, a ferry-ride away on the “Asian” side of Istanbul, where the city adjoins Asia.
Lesson learned: Pay attention to the weather gods. We foolishly took the concept of travelling off-season too far.
Must-go: Don’t miss the Istanbul Modern, the Renzo Piano-designed art museum in the historic Beyoğlu district.
After a long flight from Istanbul, we spent two weeks in Laos and then hopped another plane to Cambodia, specifically Koh Rong Sanloem, another car-free island.
Like vagabonds, we lolled by the warm, super-blue water of Sunset Beach, steps from our bungalow at Sleeping Trees (from $54 per night).
A caveat: You have to sweat to get to this island paradise. We took a bus, a ferry and then hiked for 40 minutes up and down a steep hill and through a jungle. You’ll find only a handful of “resorts”—simple bungalow complexes like ours. There’s nothing much to do. I’ll be back.
Lesson learned: Until our week in Cambodia, we’d been travelling too much and too fast, prioritising exploration over relaxation. This island taught us the pleasures of stasis.
Must-go: Spend one day in Cambodia’s capital city, Phnom Penh, to delve into its sobering history. Tour the Choeung Ek Genocidal Centre, site of a Killing Field, where nearly 9,000 Cambodians died.
We spent our last two weeks on the island of Ko Samui, where season three of “The White Lotus” was shot.
We went there for its astounding beauty, not the luxury resort experience that comes with too many boisterous lads on vacation, snake farms and traffic jams in town.
Truth be told, we flouted our budget rules to book an Airbnb with a pool (from $300) in the hills of Lipa Noi on the island’s quiet side. We joined the nearby Gravity Movement Gym to work out, but cooked our own meals to keep our final tabulation of expenses within reach.
Lesson learned: Pinching pennies feels restrictive, no matter how lush the surroundings. And it leads to bickering, as partners tally up who squandered how much on what.
With the end in sight, we splurged on the villa and even bought souvenirs, knowing we’d lug them for days, not weeks.
Must-go: Take the 30-minute ferry to sister island Ko Pha Ngan for its peace, love and yoga vibe and, once a month, full-moon parties.
Via Airbnb, we bunked at a Thai house called Baan Nuit, run by the Dear Phangan restaurant proprietors.
We sampled steamed dumplings, white fish in a Thai basil sauce and spicy noodles for a mere $15 apiece.
Hey, indulge in that “White Lotus” moment if you dare!
