Attack of the drones
Mind your head! The plague of the selfie stick will soon give way to . . . drones, writes Josh Martin.
Despite my sodden balcony and the mist surrounding London’s Shard building (the pointy building resembling an evil headquarters), I’m told summer is coming to the Northern Hemisphere.
It can only mean one thing: an onslaught of tourist buses, Contiki crews, empty-nesters, and girlson-tour will converge and do battle around Europe’s tourist traps equipped only with selfiesticks.
Helpless civilians can do nothing but cower and get out of the way as these groups, couples, and solo sightseers gather and pose with one hovering with an arm outstretched carrying what looks like a broomstick balancing a pack of cards.
Despite the notable bans from sites like the Colosseum, Versailles, and Wimbledon the army grows ever larger.
‘‘Selfie, Selfie’’ shout the touts around the Eiffel Tower, the canals of Venice, and the Berlin Wall. A bargain for €5 ($8) or two for €7 (you’ll need the second one soon enough). Would you like a key ring and some fake Ray-Bans while you’re at it?
At every stunning view or monument to man’s engineering ability they are there, slowly shouldering you out of their next profile picture.
Surely, selfie is simply shorthand for self-absorbed? If so, my online collections don’t paint me as the most altruistic.
But the selfie-stick swordfighters don’t have time for my scoff; in fact, the good ones are getting the last laugh, just look at Kiwi-tradie-come-globetrotter Logan Dodds and his holiday montage videos, which go viral faster than you can high five a GoPro. See kids, his selfie game is so strong he’s swapped Grabaseat for cashing cheques from the national carrier.
Perhaps in Logan’s case, selfie turned out to be shorthand for self-made man travelling the world (care of some digitally savvy media brands desperate to hang with the cool kids).
Well, if you can’t beat them, join them, I thought – no doubt influenced by the RSI my shoulder is getting from holding a camera up at 45 degrees while my frequent travel buddy finds her best angle. But just as I was selecting between a lowly rated (but also lowly priced) selfie stick from JB Hifi, or splashing out on the latest GoPro for 10 times the cost (surely if I reached Logan’s level of fame and freebies it would pay for itself?), an ambush of sorts occurred.
My travel buddy’s mother arrives in London with a gift from our last trip together, which I had carelessly forgotten – a selfie stick brought from a hustler beside the Arc de Triomphe. It was a two-forone deal costing the same price as a croque monsieur. The cheese and ham sandwich might have lasted longer.
I had been a conscientious objector in this war of plastic wands but in our upcoming trip to Madrid I’ve now been conscripted to push, shove, take, re-take, ohno-I-wasn’t-ready, re-take again.
But as the traveller troops clash with their flimsy, Bluetoothcapable swords on the ground they are completely unaware their weapon of choice’s days are numbered.
The crusade of the selfie sticks battling for the best tourist-trap turf will soon be replaced by the low hum of hand-controlled devices circling just high enough above that you cannot swat them away.
The drones are coming to a sightseeing hotspot near you.
A new and soon-constant sidekick for those who refuse to switch off. The selfie war is going aerial and soon your humble holiday snaps will become collateral as they are punctured by dozens of drones in the background.
It won’t be long before the security guards at the Colosseum are wishing for the good old days of selfie stick battles in the arena.