This, with all due respect is the bald- faced, supreme lie of Instagrams. That anyone actually believes this is what the shame really is. Because the real truth- and I see it in all the epic destinations where I go and there are plenty-it’s the incredibly shallow way that people treat the most gorgeous places on earth. They are to be photographed vs experienced, loved, treasured, missed and remembered for the travail it took to get there, earn that peak, see that river, experience that restaurant. Instagram has reduced the value of travel to LOOKITME postcards, meaningless in their story, without real value because they are so carefully curated to cut out the cost of attainment. That is why I hate Instagram. The desire to get that Perfect Shot makes people do the most remarkably stupid things in dangerous places, die by selfie, and put others in danger JUST TO PROVE THEY WERE THERE. That cheapens the entire enterprise.You point out what’s important- the work, the emotions, the pain, the loss, the joy, the dirty nails and horrible tales of red eye flights and loud bus rides. THOSE are the real stories. Because they test us, push us, hurt us, sculpt us, reveal us. That is real travel. Not the Hallmark card bullshit story.

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