Streetside rambling.
When I see a double decker tour bus rolling through LA, NYC, or any other city for that matter, I can’t help but roll my eyes. While those behemoths may offer an alluring bird’s eye view, they also distance people from the grit, the character of a city. “Get out and take a walk, you’re missing all the best parts,” I want to yell.
How will you stumble on a delightful, local bakery? Or discover a rare piece of vinyl at a hidden record shop? Or chat with a barista who’ll give you a list of the best eateries in town? Or find out that your favorite comic is in town? Without embedding yourself in the city, you’re missing all the happenstance interactions that will deepen your experience. In other words, you’re getting a sanitized version, devoid of life’s complexity.
I’m a huge fan of the urban hike. When I travel, I eschew taxi’s and ride shares whenever possible in favor of pounding the pavement. My all time favorite place to meander (without a map) was Venice, Italy. Off of the heavily touristed beaten path, the water’s edge providing a reliable curb, we rambled, stumbling upon charming piazzas and discrete alleys, hitting dead ends that bounced us back into the maze. We discovered neighborhoods where only the locals ventured. We got lost, gambled on a few turns, and somehow surprised ourselves by landing back on the bridge that led to our hotel. It was magical.
In my opinion, traveling should be a full contact sport. Only by interacting with real people, not only those hired to serve tourists, and real places, can you glean the flavor and witness the essence of a city; its failings have as much to teach as its star attractions. On foot, you get to peek into windows, find hidden parklets, pop into interesting shops, ask for directions, get tired, sit down, and reward yourself with a local treat. When you engage, you collide with the smell of the city, witness its charm despite the peeling paint and plastered posters that may litter empty storefronts. You see colorful flowers poking out of drab places. Embedding in a place lets you pretend, imagine who you’d be if you lived there. The city becomes real, not just a polished postcard
Yet, while I always opt for urban hiking while I travel, I forget that at home I can do the same thing. I’ll meander for hours when I am away, almost always rewarded with lovely surprises, and yet at home I’m asleep at the wheel. In my car, I’m isolated, shut off from the city. I never make the time for the happenstance collisions that I find so inspiring. I’ve been traveling for a month, put a lot of miles on my sneakers, dipping in and out of neighborhoods and snapping soulful vignettes. I can do this at home. Los Angeles is vast, each neighborhood its own microcosm, its own subculture ripe for exploration. Upon re-entry, I’ve decided that I’m going to reinvestigate and explore my city like I’m a tourist.