Five kinds of summer vacationers
From smug overpackers to inveterate drifters, it’s a jungle out there
Schools and colleges have rung their vacation bells, and travel’s in the air. Families have renewed their holiday vows and set out into the great outdoors, children, guidebooks and suitcases in tow. The sun is scorching, trains and flights are full, and a good time is guaranteed. Well, almost. Here’s a look at five different species of summer holidayers, from the Hermès-toting to the thepla-stocked.
The Tortoises
They carry everything along, prepared for any eventuality a summer holiday in Shimla or Shillong might present them with. From snacks with a long shelf-life to long-range binoculars, they take great pride in their travel inventory, checking items off lists with professional nonchalance. Their first-aid kit is a thing of extravagance, with muscle relaxants rubbing sore shoulders with smug probiotics. They carry notepads that stay empty, extra socks that remain unused and at least one useless gadget whose batteries are hell to locate on the morning of the trip. This sort are very useful to have a hand if you should ever need a measuring tape in the middle of a forest or an energy bar at a buffet. Or if you need to feel superior about your own minimalist—and differently flawed—travel style.
The Swans
You can spot them from a mile. They have the perfectly assembled airport look, combining assuredness and recklessness like it’s edamame and truffle oil. They don’t walk so much as glide through their vacation, whether it’s a Gehraiyaan-style sailing trip or a Paris Hiltonesque glamping affair. They carry the perfect holiday reading— an artfully battered paperback with a blurb screaming ‘New York Times Bestseller’—which will be used as a boarding pass holder and kombucha coaster for the duration of the vacay. You encounter them sashaying along corridors with Hermès bags and loose buns from which not one strand of hair will escape without permission. Then, they disappear through a magic portal in a swirl of perfume and poise.
P The Sloths
It’s not just the beaches that are full of them. You’ll see them plonking down on museum benches when the rest of their group is busy stalking the Renaissance artists and Egyptian mummies. All they want is to read a book or hear a podcast, but they rarely get the chance, thanks to their overactive companions. In the evenings, the Sloths come into their own, parking themselves on the edge of the bonfire or dining table, nursing their drinks with monk-like calm, avoiding any excited conversation that may erupt around them. Who wants to talk about the seven types of ambiguity, or fuel prices, for that matter, when one can be left alone with birdsong, or even the indistinct chatter of Netflix?
The Sponges
Holiday as escape? You’ve got to be kidding. For this species, holidays are an opportunity to absorb all the possible intellectual and cultural possibilities of a destination. You’ll find them enthusiastically asking the locals questions about their way of life, turning even a visit to a Bangkok food street into an anthropological exercise. They collect souvenirs maniacally, from stamps and coins to plant cuttings and pamphlets, furnishing their museum of memory with an array of curated artefacts. Photography is the chief pastime for the chronically interested, documenting every mood and moment until everyone around is exhausted. For the Sponge, enjoyment is directly related to edification. There is no limit to their curiosity, which brings them in direct and often comical conflict with the Sloths.
WHO WANTS TO TALK ABOUT THE SEVEN TYPES OF AMBIGUITY WHEN ONE CAN BE LEFT ALONE WITH THE INDISTINCT CHATTER OF NETFLIX?
The Butterflies
They flit from thing to thing, making it look like the most natural pattern. One moment they’re admiring an ancient banyan, the other, they’ve sped off on a pilot bike to a food pop-up in a Goan hideway. Plans are to this lot like pineapple is to a pizza-lover—unwelcome and untasty. They travel light and without schedule, and are always making unreasonable demands on their companions for this very reason. All in the interest of spur-of-the-moment entertainment. They’re usually the ones who get bitten by the love bug—or a snake— on holiday and return changed in some way, though very reversibly. Slaves to spontaneity, they will not bow to the demands of advance booking, and never admit they were wrong not to. Careful while holidaying with this variety. It might be addictively fun.