Stop Calling It Travel. You're Following an Itinerary Written by TikTok.

Anthony Bourdain said it best:

"If I'm an advocate for anything, it's to move. As far as you can, as much as you can. Across the ocean, or simply across the river. Walk in someone else's shoes or at least eat their food. It's a plus for everybody."

I think that pretty much summarises everything I want to say. Let me explain.

I live in Amsterdam. Not a big city per se, but a very rich one and one of the cultural capitals of Europe. Living here is great. As someone who experiences the city every day, there is always something to do: walks through the Jordaan neighbourhood where I live, afternoons in the parks, cafés that have been here for decades and feel like they belong. I love this city in the specific way you can only love somewhere you actually live.

And then I open TikTok. When I see the recommendations tourists post for other people travelling here, I feel a sense of indignation. Everyone is repeating the same few concept stores, the same cafés, treats, and snacks that do not represent the city but instead feel like tourist traps, places that exist solely for them—not for the quality or any real connection to the city. During my daily walks, I see huge lines supervised by guards just to buy a Japanese toast (we are not in Japan!). People are paying absurd prices for an Instagram picture, and it's a pity because Amsterdam, like so many other cities, has so much more to offer. But because of viral culture and social media, authentic local places are overshadowed by trendy spots, by concept stores opened by business graduates optimising for the algorithm.

Everything is a copy of a copy.

This is not about being against new things. I'm all for the evolution of cities. New restaurants open, new cultures and ideas emerge, and that is part of what makes a city alive. But there is a difference between a place that contributes something real to a city's character and a concept store optimising for Instagram. One adds to the charm; the other simply extracts from it.

In 2026, what matters is the aesthetic, the story we're going to post of our truffle fries with a view of the canal on the same three streets—not discovering the real city beneath the posts.

I know this because I live here, so I notice the fracture between the real and the fake. But then I wonder: when I travel to another city where I don't live, do the locals mock the places I choose to visit? Would they say, "No local actually goes here. This place exists solely for tourists." Probably. Because we all take advice online from people who don't know what they're talking about or what they're actually recommending. And we're all guilty of not taking the extra step to look a little further.

When my friends come to visit, I always take them to my version of Amsterdam, my happy places. Every time, they discover a side of the city they would never have found on their own. Not because they aren't curious, but because without someone who actually lives somewhere, it's almost impossible to know where to look. That is the thing about travel guides and TikTok recommendations: they give us the coordinates, but never the context.

This is not unique to Amsterdam. In Barcelona, locals have put up posters saying, "Tourists go home," because the city has become increasingly difficult for the people who actually live there. In Florence, Italian locals posted TikToks directed at American tourists, asking them, "Do you ever just shut the f** up?"* The pregames in the street at midnight, the piazzas treated like a college campus, the #EuroSummer posted like a flex.

Cities have become far too globally connected. No matter where we travel—from Amsterdam to Berlin, Lebanon to the United States—we encounter the same thing. After COVID, remote work created a wealthy, globally mobile class that is everywhere all at once. International tourism is booming, and every city is starting to look like every other city, at least through the lens of a tourist who only follows the algorithm.

What differentiates our trips now? Every trendy space looks the same. Every cool neighbourhood in every major city has adapted to the same aesthetic, the same sterile décor, the same crowds. And they thrive because we all feed into it instead of trying a new place à l'aveugleor asking a local for a recommendation.

The way I see it, a tourist stays for the popular attractions. A traveller stays longer, goes deeper, is there for the culture rather than the content, and immerses themselves in the experience. The fun part is meeting people, having drinks, and learning how they actually live.

Bourdain was not prescribing a specific itinerary or a list of authentic spots. He was prescribing an attitude:

"Be open to experience, be willing to try new things, don't have a rigid plan, accept random acts of hospitality without judgment or fear, don't be afraid to wander, don't be afraid to eat a bad meal, if you don't risk the bad meal you never get the magical one."

That is what travel is supposed to feel like.

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Photo © Dua Lipa via Instagram (@dualipa)