Wrinkles & Grins

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How Travel Porn Created a World Explorer in Me

An Egret in Costa Rica. (Image: Erik J. Kramer)

I’m addicted to travel porn. I can’t get enough of those photographs taken at just the right moment or when the lighting is perfect. New England foliage in early October, a close-up of wildlife, a colorful market, or a beautiful city or countryside photographed during the ‘golden hour’ shortly after sunrise or before sunset.

Truth be told, it started when I was in my early twenties. Vacation travel was right up there with finding a good job after college graduation. I’d go to the mall to buy clothing and end up at the travel agency. (Back in the day when there were travel agencies with storefronts at every mall!)

The Plotting and Planning

I’d comb through the displays filled with brochures about exotic places like the UK and the Caribbean. At home, I’d flip through them and dream about when—not if—I’d travel to these places. Like most addicts, I’d start plotting and planning. Where would I get my first fix? How could I afford it? Would anyone question the choices I made? What if I had an unexpected or bad experience? How long would each trip’s high last?

Great travel photos hinted at the adventures I’d have and the memorable stories I’d create when I got there.

The Great Rockies in Banff and Jasper National Parks, Alberta, Canada in August. (Image: Edie L. Kramer)

A family of Capuchin Monkeys in Costa Rica. (Image: Erik J. Kramer)

Was I Predisposed?

Travel porn led me to explore a broad range of destinations. Often. Anywhere. Any time.

In retrospect, maybe I’m pre-disposed to this mind-altering disease. I do remember an Arizona Highlights magazine chock-full of travel porn coming to our house for years. And money was pretty tight so it was a bit weird that we had the dough for a subscription like this. And no one seemed to know who had subscribed to it. Hmmm.

I don’t come from a family of travelers, but family lore says there was a great, great, great uncle who left home with Gold Rush fever never to be heard from again. Is there a recessive adventure gene?

Even when my friends described their family’s summer vacations to exotic places like California and Italy, my heart would race. They’d say, ‘it was ok, but a little boring’ and I’d think, ‘are you friggin’ kidding me?’ How could any place whose name sounded so exotic be such a chore? And I’d ask to see their photos.

To me, California sounded like sunshine and excitement. And a trip to Italy ‘just to visit relatives’ sounded like an adventure. I pictured the North End of Boston, an Italian neighborhood filled with the scents of incredible restaurants and the sounds of Italian grandmothers gossiping in chairs on sidewalks in front of their apartments. I thought going to Italy, even to ‘just visit relatives’, was way cool. You got to fly on a plane and go to a different country?! Again, I’d ask to see their photos. I didn’t believe they ‘didn’t really take any’? That’s just crazy cakes.

Related Family History

My family vacationed on the same lake for the same two weeks every summer. The only difference year-to-year was how often we built a campfire and had ‘smores. That said, I actually have really fond memories of that lake and even brought my kids there for a few summer vacations. As a young kid, there’s nothing like experiencing fishing (including the holy camp rule of putting your own worm on your own hook), camp pancakes, swimming in the rain (because it’s Day 5 and we still haven’t seen the sun), and diving off the dock when you no longer need a lifejacket.

Learning to fish during a New England lake vacation means hooking your own worm at a young age. (Image: Erik J. Kramer)

Even though lake vacations often felt a bit like a heavy ‘block and tackle’ football game (come on, can we just see something new people!), I still remember that wonderful feeling of that cool, clear-to-the-bottom lake water and what we called ‘muddy gush’ between my toes. It was a fun time but certainly not Los Angeles or Perugia. Those names screamed exotica to me.

When I look back at some of our lake pictures with our kids, there’s a bit of travel porn usually involving water skiing or tubing. Travel porn doesn’t require you to be anywhere exotic.

Tubing on a lake is fun for the younger kids. They may not be ready for water skis but they can still feel the thrill of a power boat pulling them across the water. (Image: Erik J. Kramer)

Addiction Grows Without Intervention

Thankfully my husband likes to travel. He encourages me to always have the next trip booked or at least planned so we have something to look forward to. And he is my ‘supplier’ supporting my addiction with some kick-ass photography.

A quick pic of the guy behind most of our family and vacation photos. (Image: Edie L. Kramer)

He has seen every trip we’ve taken through the power of some pretty nice camera lenses. I guess he has a travel porn addiction as well. Just from a slightly different perspective.

He never traveled as a child, either. Together, we’ve raised our two kids to not only experience New England lakes but also many other U.S. and international destinations. And we have about 30,000 photos in our photo library (although this estimate includes pics from when he was the photographer for our son’s lacrosse teams in high school and college.)

Where has travel porn taken us? Lots of places. And more to come.

Camogli, Italy in May. (Image: Erik J. Kramer)

Iceland in July. (Image: Erik J. Kramer)

Dingle, Ireland in May. (Image: Erik J. Kramer)

São Miguel Island, Azores in October. (Edie L. Kramer)

Are you a Travel Porn addict like me? What types of travel photography do you gravitate toward and why? I’d love to hear from you!