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I feel constricted traveling in such a glutenous way. We move quickly from city to city only to gorge slowly on food and wine. Seeing the other tourists makes me sick. I am one of them with my checked bags and smart phone. I too lean out from the boat like a chimp to take photos of the scenery.

There is something nauseating about being a tourist. It feels vapid and useless. A contrived world similar to visiting Disney Land, as if all of this was made for my entertainment. It inverts the relationship between traveler and foreign land so that the traveler, rather than being an external spectator forced to learn a new rhythm, is designated king.

And what’s more disgusting is I think I’m different. Why? Because I can fit all of my things in a compact bag? Because I avoid the tourist traps? Avoiding the tourist traps makes me no less of a tourist. Will I not wait in the same lines to eat a gelato like a fucking pig? I see the overweight Americans, the obnoxious Chinese, the haughty Euoropeans and I see reflections of me in their hideous faces. And yet what a beautiful place!