Let me tell you about the worst meal I’ve ever had while traveling.
It was in [ADD YOUR DETAILS: the city — somewhere with a famous tourist area]. I was tired, I was hungry, and the restaurant was right there, on the main square, with photos of the food in the window and a guy outside telling me I’d made an excellent choice by stopping. The menu had English, German, French, and Spanish translations. The food arrived in about four minutes.
It was bad. Not “this is different from what I expected” bad. Just bad. Generic, overpriced, made for a customer who would never come back.
That customer was me.
I paid it, walked around the corner, and found a place with no tourist menu, no English signs, and a line of locals waiting for a table. I came back the next day for the same thing.
That’s the whole story. That’s also the entire argument.
Why Tourist Areas Exist (And Why They’re a Trap)
Tourist areas exist because travel became an industry. And like any industry, it optimized for efficiency — for getting the most money from the most people in the least amount of time with the least friction.
That means restaurants that can turn tables fast. Shops selling the same keychains you’ll find in every city in the country. Bars that know exactly what a tourist wants and deliver it at a tourist price.
None of this is evil. It’s just not real.
The real city — the one where people actually live — is always close. Usually within walking distance. Almost always more interesting.
What “Tourist Area” Actually Means
It’s not about being off the beaten path. It’s about being honest about what you’re looking at.
A tourist area is any place that has primarily optimized for visitors rather than residents. That can be a neighborhood, a street, a specific block, or even a single restaurant surrounded by good ones. The signs are usually the same:
Menus with photos. Aggressive hospitality from someone standing outside. Prices that are noticeably higher than the surrounding area. An absence of locals actually eating or drinking there.
[ADD YOUR DETAILS: A specific tourist area you’ve encountered somewhere — the feeling of it, what it was like compared to walking one street over]
What I Do Instead
I walk. A lot. Usually without a specific destination.
The first day somewhere I treat as orientation — I’m not trying to find anything, I’m just reading the city. Where do people sit in the morning? Where do they walk at lunchtime? What’s at the end of the street that looks too residential to be interesting?
That last one. It’s almost always at the end of the street that looks too residential to be interesting.
[ADD YOUR DETAILS: Your personal approach to orienting in a new city — what do you do in the first few hours?]
I also ask people who actually live somewhere. Not hotel staff (they’re trained to give tourist answers). The person at the corner store. The barber whose shop I walk past. [ADD YOUR DETAILS: You’re a barber — have you ever connected with local barbers in other countries and gotten recommendations from them? This is a great angle.] Barbers know everything about a neighborhood. If I see a barbershop, I walk in.
The Honest Cost Comparison
Tourist restaurants in popular European cities charge [ADD YOUR DETAILS: a rough price range you’ve experienced] for a meal that is mediocre at best. Walk three blocks in any direction and you’re eating real food for a fraction of that.
[ADD YOUR DETAILS: A specific price comparison you remember — tourist price vs. local price for similar or better food somewhere]
The math is not subtle. Eating like a local for two weeks versus eating in tourist restaurants for two weeks could be the difference between affording the trip and not affording it.
When Tourist Areas Are Actually Fine
I’m not a purist. There are times when the tourist area is right.
When you’re exhausted and just need to eat something without an adventure. When you’re somewhere for 12 hours and don’t have time to explore. When you’re with people who need the menu in English because they’re new to travel and this isn’t the moment to push them out of their comfort zone.
[ADD YOUR DETAILS: Any tourist spots you’ve genuinely loved that were worth it despite being touristy]
The goal isn’t to avoid tourist infrastructure at all costs. The goal is to not let it be your default.
The Actual Point
Travel is not a highlight reel. The best moments I’ve had — the conversations, the meals, the places that permanently changed something in how I see the world — have never happened in places that were built for me to have them.
They happen in the margins. In the neighborhoods. In the restaurants you walk past twice before deciding the plastic chairs are actually a good sign. In the conversations that start because you’re genuinely lost, not performing being lost for a photo.
Skip the tourist area. Turn left instead of right. See what’s at the end of the street.
That’s where the trip actually is.
— Baldo
Follow along on Instagram and TikTok @whereisbaldo