Summary

The author of the article expresses a personal preference for solitude and introspection when traveling, favoring interactions with service providers over engaging with locals for a more authentic cultural experience.

Abstract

The author, an introverted traveler, shares their perspective on interacting with locals while traveling, revealing a preference for solitude and self-guided exploration. Despite the common travel advice to engage with locals for a more authentic experience, the author finds fulfillment in observing and learning about a destination's history, architecture, and culture independently. They value the quiet contemplation of landscapes and the personal growth that comes from internal reflection rather than external interactions. The article recounts a specific experience in Dorchester, England, where the author felt a poignant mix of loneliness and inspiration, leading to a creative output that became part of their first book. The author acknowledges the joy that others may find in conversing with locals but asserts that their own travel style prioritizes personal travel goals and the richness of inner experiences.

Opinions

The author disagrees with the widespread travel advice that emphasizes the importance of chatting with locals to gain an authentic travel experience.
They believe that interactions with service providers, such as food servers and hotel staff, offer a "small slice of the soul of the country" without the need for deeper engagement.
The author identifies as an introvert who finds interacting with people stressful and prefers to rely on the internet and guidebooks for travel tips and insider information.
They value the inner mind expansion and change of world view that occur during silent contemplation of their surroundings, rather than through conversations.
The author admits to occasional loneliness on their travels but ultimately cherishes the solitude as it contributes to their creative work and personal growth.
They defend their travel style as valid and fulfilling, despite it differing from the social approach favored by many other travelers.

I Don’t Chat With Locals When I Travel

Is that wrong?

Plains, Montana, where I’m the local. Photo credit: Erie Astin

Something leapt out at me when I was doing research online for my upcoming trip to Italy. Coming up in 2025, not 2024. I know, I’m planning way early, but it’s my first overseas voyage in sixteen years and I’m excited.

I got a bit turned off by those online travel blogs, though. They were all recommending the same thing:

Interacting with locals.

Chatting with locals will help you to understand their way of life, and what is important to them. — The Williams World

This will give you a much more authentic and immersive experience than simply following a pre-planned tour or itinerary. — Lokal Travel

Whether you stay at their home, spend a weekend with them, or even chat over a beer, you’ll be opening yourself to a more intimate and genuine experience of your destination. — Frommers

Quotes like these make me stop and think about why I travel.

I’m a bit mystified when people write that the best part of traveling for them is meeting local people. When I read about someone riding a bus with chickens under their seat and children in their lap, and enjoying it, I feel left out, like I’m doing travel wrong.

You see, when I travel, I keep to myself, except when I’m traveling with a companion. Sure, I’ll interact with food servers, or people who work at hotels, museums, and shops, but that’s about it.

I do treasure my interactions with those people. I feel like I’m touching some small slice of the soul of the country. But I don’t want to take the interactions any further.

As an introvert, I don’t like going up and beginning conversations with people I don’t know. Interacting with people is stressful, not a pleasure. This is true in my hometown as much as when I travel.

I know I’m missing out on getting local tips and insider information, but I’d really rather take my chances and glean what I can from the internet and guidebooks.

Riding 4-Wheelers with friends in the Dominican Republic. Photo credit: Erie Astin

I also know many people will think I’m missing out, and I’ll be encouraged to change my ways so I can get a richer experience.

But I think my travel experiences are rich as they are. I’m just looking for different things.

Appreciation of architecture, for one thing. Time in museums. Contemplation of landscapes. Learning history. Self-growth.

For me, the mind expansion, change of world view, and processing of what I see always occurs in the inner world, not the outer. Talking to people just muddles the wandering that I need to do in silence.

Iron Age earthworks on Maiden Castle. Photo credit: Erie Astin

Of course there have been times when I’ve gotten lonely and wished I knew how to form a closer relationship with locals.

In January 2009, in the middle of an emotionally tough year as a graduate student in Scotland, I took a trip to Dorchester in Dorset, southwest England.

My destination was Maiden Castle, an Iron Age hill fort out in the countryside. Rather than being a “castle,” it was a vast network of earthwork fortifications dug into a massive hill with a flat top.

I spent a happy day there striding around in the cold wind, imagining the lives of the people who had once inhabited the hill. When dusk began to fall, I returned to Dorchester and my attic room in a small, historic hotel.

For once, I didn’t enjoy the solitude of my room. My loneliness from Scotland hadn’t gone away.

Ironically, Dorchester was the inspiration for the fictional town in Thomas Hardy’s Far From the Madding Crowd. I was indeed far from the crowd that night.

I went out to wander the darkened streets. After a few turns down empty lanes, a group of local lads tumbled out onto the cobblestones, talking and laughing.

I followed them discreetly, wishing I could join them. I imagined striking up a conversation and spending the evening with them.

But no — I didn’t know how to do it. So I went back to my hotel and turned on the TV to a documentary about elephants.

I was sad in the moment, but in hindsight, I’m glad I didn’t befriend those boys. As I watched TV, I wrote down the thoughts that had gone through my mind as I walked on Maiden Castle. The atmosphere of the place, the greatness of ages gone by, fictional people who might have lived there.

I still cherish that journal entry, which became part of my first book, a novel set in a fictional Iron Age on a hill fort much like Maiden Castle. The name of one of the elephants in the documentary even became the name of one of the characters in my book.

I hesitated to write this article because I know so many of you love talking with locals when you travel. It’s part of your immersion in the culture, a source of joy, a big reason why you travel.

But I’ve decided that it’s not for me. I’d rather keep to myself and focus on my own travel goals. We all have different traveling styles, and this is the one that works for me.

Thanks for reading, and thank you to the editors at Globetrotters (JoAnn Ryan, Anne Bonfert, Jillian Amatt — Artistic Voyages, Adrienne Beaumont, Michele Maize) for running a great publication.