Are You an 'Experiential Traveller'? - Unit 9

C1 Advanced · Multiple Matching · Ready for C1 Advanced 4th Edition Workbook, Macmillan Education

You are going to read a newspaper article about experiential travel. For questions 1–10, choose from the sections (A–D). The sections may be chosen more than once.

Essentially, experiential travel is tourism repackaged for people who can’t stomach the word ‘tourist’. The experiential traveller doesn’t trot perfunctorily around Rome’s museums: we attend supper clubs in hip Monti, we volunteer at Testaccio community gardens, we take life-drawing classes aboard houseboats on the Tiber. We want to be physically challenged, mentally rejuvenated, socially gratified and, increasingly, professionally inspired. And we’re willing to pay for it. Experiential luxury now accounts for almost 55% of total luxury spending worldwide and, year-on-year, is growing 50% faster than sales of luxury goods. ‘In the past, social status often went hand-in-hand with the ownership of material possessions – think cars or designer handbags,’ says Victoria Loomes, a senior trend analyst. ‘But now, there’s a greater emphasis on experience, skills and personal development. And in a social media-led world, it’s all about how you share these new status signifiers.’ Put simply, we now show off through experiences, not things. The word ‘leisure’ used to be synonymous with relaxation, but this is now a hopelessly inadequate way of understanding what we want with our holiday time. According to psychologist Catherine Sykes, ‘We also use it for social stratification, to say something about us. It’s an ego boost, and it denotes status. We’re identifying ourselves as a “runner” or a “hiker” – something that gives us the edge over the competition.’

Some ‘holistic travel experiences’ are predictable enough, like an afternoon learning to surf with a pro in Malibu. But the more intriguing invite you to step into someone else’s career for a few days. Ever dreamt about the life of a Parisian perfumer? Curious about the working day (and night) of an East London music scout? Or wondered what a California celebrity stylist does all day? You can now book these bucket-list alt-career experiences for around £45 to £175, choosing one-day or multi-day ‘immersion’ in groups of five to eight. As the sort of romantic, restless and fundamentally nosy traveller who gets bored after six minutes on a sun-lounger, I’m very much the target sucker for this type of thing. And so, curious to see if you really can buy your way into a new life, I book myself a smorgasbord of experiences in LA.

This is how I find myself nervously waiting for Lily, a costume designer, at Graffiti café, much like on an awkward first date. What if we don’t get along? What if she’s a total phoney? Surely a truly successful designer would be too busy being a successful designer to waste her time on randoms like me? Then Lily arrives, with a portfolio and moodboards – and I realise I’m on to a good thing. As Lily’s intern for the day, we visit a cult vintage store, the owner greeting Lily and me like old friends. We wander the aisles of the film industry’s go-to haberdashery store. Then we retreat to Lily’s home studio at her 1930s apartment block, where we work on her current commission, a bespoke mermaid-inspired gown for a music video. Hand-stitching bits of flotsam and jetsam on to an obliging model is refreshingly different to my normal laptop-shackled working day, and while I don’t plan to ditch my day job, I leave Lily with a whole new appreciation of couture gowns. I have just one question: why is someone this successful wasting her time on tours? Lily’s three-day ‘immersion’ cost me £159, which could earn her close to £1,000 if she manages to fill all six places, but I have a feeling she is not in it for the money alone. ‘I guess I feel I’m good at inspiring people and helping people push through creative blocks,’ she says.

On the morning of internship number two, I wind my way to a bohemian yurt, where TV writer Kevin lives. I’ve always wondered how the life of a London journalist compares with an LA screenwriter. Perhaps Kevin’s ‘TV Writers’ immersion will cure me of my professional FOMO. Or tell me I’m in totally the wrong job after all. (Given that the average worker now changes jobs every five years, we’re in serious need of some later-life careers guidance.) Again, what’s in it for Kevin? ‘When I first came to Hollywood 13 years ago, there was nowhere for me to get information on TV writing. As a rookie writer, it took me years to get access to someone like me,’ Kevin laughs. ‘Now I’m in a position to share the information I’ve learnt, to demystify the process, to make it a bit easier for someone just starting out.’ I’m aware that my experience is far from the gritty reality of a writer’s existence. But by the end of day three, I know my way around a writers’ room. It feels a world apart from taking a TV writing workshop in a hotel conference room. I haven’t just been told how to be a TV writer; for three days, I’ve lived the life of one.

Are you an 'experiential traveller'?

How tourism became a dirty word

a person who lived up to her expectations?

some less obvious examples of experiential travel?

a person who enjoys giving factual advice?

the desire to impress others with our experiences?

a suggestion that she’s tempted to change careers?

her feeling that the price doesn’t justify the amount of time?

a change in the way people display their wealth?

her own reasons for trying experiential travel?

a comparison with another way of learning?

how our choices tell others who we are?

Available as a free printable PDF worksheet with an optional answer key.

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