We think... • September 2014
It’s time to rethink the holiday souvenir
No matter how far-flung your holiday, no one appreciates travel-token tragedies, says travel writer Jordan Burchette
“Has anybody seen my Angkor Wat refrigerator magnet? I’ve been looking for it everywhere.”
Said nobody. Ever. And with good reason.
When was the last time you issued more than a halfhearted gurgle of gratitude when presented with a snow globe or coffee mug from a foreign clime, no matter how far-flung?
For that matter, how many times do you recall being the object of gushing gratitude for a souvenir glass or T-shirt you brought back for someone else?
Don’t get me wrong – the magic of spotting an item while on holiday and being powerless to resist picking it up for a cherished someone back home, or indeed for yourself, is in large part what travel is all about.
Real souvenirs are not the gewgaws patterned on old tourism-bureau clichés that abound in high-traffic gift shops, but come from the true artifacts of a place. Local fashion and jewellery designs; a comic book; sand from the region’s beaches – real things enjoyed by the real populaces being visited.
Avoid cluttering your - and your friends’ - houses with cheap souvenirs
The alluring thing about travel is what it imparts to us about a culture and its geography. Cheap, plastic figurines injection-moulded into the shape of the Sphinx are as emblematic of Giza as a snowboard.
Furthermore, this kind of gift giving demonstrates to the recipient that he or she is a requisite to be fulfilled rather than a loved one to be regaled.
Worst of all, this touristic detritus litters drawers, closets and eventually landfills by the metric tonne in a cycle of life that starts as obligatory exhibit in the least-seen corners of a house, and progresses to the personal-asset purgatory of stored possessions we ascribe no value, yet can’t bear to throw away. Until, of course, we finally throw them away.
A Statue of Liberty lighter. Christ the Redeemer: the beach towel. Postcards from the Sydney Opera House that feature photos older than Google, and aren’t as good as the ones that can be easily viewed online by using it.
Locally-made products, such as an alpaca scarf from Peru, make the best souvenirs
But you can prevent these travel-token tragedies.
If you tour Peru, buy an alpaca scarf that might actually go with something someone might conceivably wear back home (and not the one that says ‘MACCHU PICCHU’ on it).
If you travel through Denmark, purchase local cookbooks for the gourmands back home.
If you subscribe to no other rule, insist on buying tchotchkes and curios that are made where they’re sold. It offers much better support to the economies of the destinations you wish to capture in souvenir form, and is more authentic to boot.
Or just take a photo of something that reminds you of a friend for whom you’d otherwise buy a souvenir, and share it with them on social media. Isn’t that a much more appropriate 21st-century souvenir?