There’s a subtle distinction between being a tourist and being a traveler. As a tourist, you visit. You tour the most popular attractions, check off the obvious must-sees and must-dos. It’s a temporary experience. But as a traveler, you immerse. You sink yourself deep into the culture of the location. Sure, it may also be temporary, but you experience it differently—not through a tourist’s wide-eyes of wonder, but through a different lens, one that’s filtered by the knowledge of locals, a little harder around the edges with an air of underground knowledge you can only get from being a native. It’s kind of like having an older, wiser sibling who shows you the way through life. What you’re left with is a snapshot of the way life can be, a little moment you can tuck away in your pocket and keep with you forever.
I know all about this distinction because I live in New York City, but like most, I’m not a native. I moved 11 years ago, so it’s safe to say I’m considered a “real” New Yorker by New York standards (plus I’m jadedAF, and I know all the subway lines by heart). But prior to turning into a fast walker who never makes eye contact, I used to tour the city as a kid, bopping around from Time Square to the Fashion District, eating in chain restaurants, visiting the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty, and loving every hectic minute of it. See, there’s nothing wrong with checking off the tourist boxes. You have to do it in some places. But aren’t the best travel moments the ones in which you immerse yourself in a new area, eat at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant that turns out to be better than any Zagat-rated spot, get lost down a quaint side alley, or people watch lazily at a local café? (The answer is yes, duh)