Wellness check…I’m alive! From moving house in LA to travels in French Polynesia and Indonesia and speaking at Travel + Leisure’s World’s Best Summit, it’s been a whirlwind (and exciting) summer. I’m back home for a couple of weeks and exploring a topic that’s been on my mind of late.
Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about relatability as a travel writer.
When I started adventuring around the world in college, it was on a shoestring budget. While I was never a backpacker, I was proud to find cheap economy fares, affordable hotels or Airbnbs, and leverage points to travel.
In fact, points, miles, and travel “hacking” is what ultimately led me to my first full-time editorial job in 2020. I started having more luxurious experiences; think first- and business-class flights and plush accommodations—all on points.
These days, my travel habits for work have decidedly gotten more lavish, especially as I transitioned to full-time freelance in early 2023.
Long story short, it’s a funny position to be a travel writer who cannot afford many of the trips I go on or cover for work. The most extreme example: I wrote about Virgin Galactic’s first-ever tourist space launch last year, a trip that costs nearly $450,000.
While I watched the launch from the ground in middle of nowhere New Mexico, I remembered talking with a fellow journalist. We were both in awe of what was in front of us, but we acknowledged this was a travel topic out of reach for more than 99.9% of people. Us included.
My travel is not always relatable…
In a few weeks, I’m galavanting off on a private jet trip with TCS World Travel, a journey that retails for…six figures per person.
I’m grappling with something that makes me weirdly hesitant to talk about openly—the shift from the life I lead for work versus the life I have at home. And frankly, it can sometimes be quite jarring.
On this work trip and many others, I “cosplay” as a person who makes many multiples of my income, inserting myself into a world that’s a stark contrast to my relatively modest Los Angeles life.
There’s a certain thrill that comes with this. And part of my craft is to understand what travelers who could pay for this type of experience are looking for. And create stories from that. Perhaps it’s also to instill a bit of FOMO with a general audience, too.
But I keep coming back to the topic of relatablility.
Over the last year, I’ve gotten more comfortable social codeswitching, but the gap between who I am and the audience that I sometimes am in service of can feel wide. That’s especially the case for folks, like myself, who didn’t grow up surrounded by wealth.
In fact, amongst friends, I have caught myself talking about experiences that likely make me seem completely out of touch. It’s something I’ve become very aware of.
Thankfully, freelancing is the ultimate luxury; it allows me to cover a variety of topics across travel segments and demographics. So while I love luxury travel and understanding the nuances of a bespoke trip, I also am adaptable and and cover why I love transportation museums or how Southwest Airlines losing open seating is a big deal or demystifying travel topics that impact everyone.
There’s nuance in everything
While it’s an honor and privilege to go on these journeys, I think it’s important to acknowledge that…there can be a natural discomfort in feeling like you’re leading a double life…this is still a job at the end of the day with frustrations…but you might not get empathy from friends who aren’t fellow freelancers in this space.
All can exist at once.
As I read articles across different outlets (and also edit others’ work), I realize that sometimes, a good travel service story requires taking yourself out of the picture. Be that fly on the wall: Who are you writing for and is what you’re covering in service of that audience?
That’s what being a good reporter, writer, journalist, etc. is about, I guess — telling a story for others and being able to pivot in and out of situations.
Checking in from LA,
Chris