Perfect From a Distance

I hit the road, dying to see all those amazing places everyone was always posting about. You know the ones. Those adventure soaked flashy vids of amazing destinations most people only dream of. Far flung islands surrounded by turquoise waters, filmed with the wing of their jet in view, of course.

It’s funny how that proves they’re flying economy, but what can you do? You need the wing in the shot, right? Maybe it was shot backwards.

Those views never end. Every scroll-flick on every screen, everywhere you look. You can’t escape it. Everyone's showing off their version of perfect, with their perfectly framed, perfectly posed smiling selves, in front of those perfect places the rest should envy.

Except it all changed once I got on the road. My view turned out to be watching them set up their view. Photo shoots, everywhere I turned. And you know what else? Those places weren’t all that great, once I got there. It’s just they all kept all the bad stuff outside the frame.

Funny how easy that is.

It isn't right. It isn't healthy. But damn if we haven’t set up the whole world around this glossy-photo lifestyle shit. I’m living proof.

I’ve been crisscrossing the planet a while now, and while the local scenes change, the places where the tourists go are all the same. Local folks always speak the language of money, and the ones funding these adventures are demanding as hell. It’s a real treatise on the haves and the have-nots, really, although the have-nots are the only ones I see chilling out, taking in the views the beautiful people aren’t paying attention to, except to line up their shot.

Yeah, I’ve been going along with it, but I’m not like these people. I don’t carry around equipment and do hair and make-up. I don’t search for perfect locations before I take my envy shots. I’m not as bad as they are, and I've been watching. Those people are just extreme.

And when I say extreme, I mean it's like pro-level, man. The girls all dressed just so. Doing their hair just so. Putting their feet in the water just so.

The most amazing of the spots I was able to check out was the beach from The Beach. Maya Bay in Thailand. What a place.

It was overrun, people trudging this way and that, looking for the perfect spots, with the best backdrops and the perfect rays of sunlight to stand under. Everybody had to get their shots.

But the funny part is, you're not allowed in the water. And everybody's going to the water's edge to try to get their shot, so everybody's in each other's frames—messing up this perfect image of being on the most incredible beach in the world by yourself.

Because we weren't by ourselves. That's the whole thing.

And all these envy shots that everybody has to take so they can send it back home. "I went there. Aren't I awesome?"

How cool is that, really? I mean, yes and no, right?

But anyway, you're not allowed in the water. The guides will scream and blow whistles if you go too far out—and I mean a step or two in. Because they're trying to keep the place open. The government wants to shut it down because the tourists have overrun this pristine, amazing place.

Which, really, is just a tourist trap. Just like all the rest of these places where we go and we do our photo shoots.

And it's not quite right when you're there and watching people do it. But then you go to their Instagram, and boy, does that look amazing. I mean, that looks as professionally done as you might have seen in a glossy magazine 10, 20 years ago.

But did they enjoy their vacation? Did they take in the incredible views they were surrounded by? Or were they more concerned with their perfect shot?

And of course, then there are the influencers. Those are the ones you can really spot. Because they've got all the heavy equipment going on. You never see that equipment on their YouTube channel, of course. But they lug it all around.

I do my share of photo shoots as well. Hate to admit it. I wish I could just chill with the locals sometimes. But you gotta keep up. And everyone back home wants to know where I’m at anyway. I can’t disappoint, can I? Even if they don’t respond nearly as much as they used to. Not since I came to within an inch of a very different travel experience.

That was the week I almost sailed off the edge and off the planet, in the Nihn Bihn highlands of Vietnam. Scared me half to death—almost getting run off the road by one of those crazy truckers. I dunno how I missed that cliff, either. I was heading right for it. If I’d gone off the edge, my photoshoots would’ve had to go on without me. But the folks back home, they never knew about my near miss. I made sure the perfect life show went on. No matter how few likes or comments I got after that.

I think my vibe must have changed. The fear, or something. Like it bled into my narrative. Honestly I don’t know if I got a single like after that. Wasn’t like I filmed myself flying off that cliff or anything. I mean, the camera was rolling but I wouldn’t post that. Especially not a live shoot. Can you imagine?

From Bali to Hanoi, from Tokyo to Phuket, and all kinds of spots in-between, I’d seen crash victims hitting the beaches, insisting on pursuing their life of leisure even though you’d think they should stay home and rest. Arms. Legs. Faces. I thought to myself, ‘Man, talk about a rough go. Glad that won’t happen to me.’

They were the only ones skipping the photo shoots, I realized. In fact, I’ll bet you could hop on social media right now and figure out which of your friends got fucked up in a crash on holidays..just from the style of their photo shoot.

If I’d gotten injured from that cliff dive, man. I mean, it was a long way down and that arc was scary. It’s weird that I can remember it, even though it didn’t hurt me. I even remember thinking, ‘turn off the camera man, they’re all watching. They can’t see this!’. I reached for it, I think, but I was trying to grab onto the handlebars too, and land right. Except I don’t remember the landing.

*

I walked after that. Gave up the biking. Every country, just walking. Beaches, mostly, but some cliffside outlooks too. Watching those photo shoots. Feeling sorry for them, all obsessed with their perfect shots. Not paying attention to their amazing surroundings. I was paying attention, though. That’s all I was doing anymore.

There was no more camera. I think I might have lost it off the cliff there. I never did shut it off.

People stopped commenting after that. I tried to blame the algorithm, but I think maybe my amazing picture perfect lifestyle was too much for them.

I tried messaging, too. But no one answered. Which was weird.

Even though I’m still traveling all the time, I haven’t really connected with anybody far away or near. They don’t even really look at me anymore. Too consumed with their damned photo shoots.

Or maybe they just don’t see me because so much has changed.

My picture-perfect life wasn’t perfect, but at least people were reacting. I knew I wasn’t alone. People were always there—at a distance, sure—but they were there.

Right up until I went over that cliff.