Have influencers ruined our holidays?
Plus: my article and podcast in The Spectator, hunky Iranian men, and the overhyped Dubai Chocolate
Hello beautiful people! It’s been a while hasn’t it?
I’m still on a high, after 10 days of living my White Lotus life in Thailand (I’ve yet to watch the show’s finale, so no spoilers please!).
I was on a wellness retreat organised by my friend’s cousin Urvashi, a personal coach. In February, I saw on Instagram that she was taking a group of women to Phuket in March for eight days. And, miraculously, she had ONE SPACE LEFT! My friend Priya was also going. In short, it was meant to be.
After Phuket, Priya and I decided to spend two nights in Bangkok to explore some of the city’s historical sites.
One thing I noticed on this holiday was the sheer number of influencers you bump into now. At the Wat Pho temple complex, famous for the huge statue of the Reclining Buddha, an Indian woman was dressed up in a traditional Thai costume. Her husband dutifully held up her gold skirt as she posed artfully while a professional photographer snapped away.
At first I thought it was a one off. But it was the same story at Wat Arun, or “Temple of Dawn”, the most photogenic temple on the banks of the Chao Phraya River. Its central prang (or stupa) is an impressive focal point, adorned with brightly coloured porcelain and seashells. Visitors can climb the temple’s steep staircase to enjoy majestic panoramic views of the river and city.
In theory anyway. People were more bothered about getting the perfect shot for their Instagram. It was nearly impossible to walk around and admire the sites without someone blocking my path or accidentally ruining their bloody photo shoot.
For less than £10, you can get dressed up in ‘authentic’ Thai garb. If you want to take it to the next level, you can also hire a local photographer who can capture you in front of the buildings alone or with your other half, like this couple below.
I must have seen hundreds of these women, dressed in silk shades of blue, gold, green and purple, shimmering under the Thai sun.
And while Wat Arun is widely known for its architectural grandeur, it still holds deep religious significance for local Buddhists and remains an active place of worship.
Most people, including my friend Priya, were sitting on the floor in one temple, taking some time to meditate or pray.
Not these two. Mrs Influencer was busy pouting against a wall (watched on by the giant Buddha and myself), while Mr Influencer was on hand to capture this precious moment.
Now I’m not a religious person, but even I think some places are sacred. I feel the same way when I see Muslims livestreaming their pilgrimage in Saudi Arabia. I always thought the journey in the birthplace of Islam was supposed to be spiritual and a time when you can switch off, but apparently we’re so glued to our devices that we can’t even put them away during prayer times.
There’s a difference between capturing a moment for memories, and curating it for others. Are we just going to a destination so that we can be seen later online?
Social media has changed the way we travel, fuelling our narcissistic tendencies. A 2017 survey of British adults aged 18 to 33 found that 40 percent of respondents cited how “Instagrammable” a travel destination would be as their most important motivator when deciding where to go on holiday.
Just think of the hordes of visitors flocking to Notting Hill, to get a picture outside the candy-coloured houses.
Or the much-photographed house in the Faroe Islands which sits on the edge of a cliff, looking out over the Atlantic. Apparently, the poor shepherd who lives there has to ensure no tourists are standing outside taking photos when he uses the bathroom!
Instagram hasn’t just changed where we go but how we behave once we’re there. Everyone and everything starts to look the same. My feed is filled with youthful, photogenic women wearing long, flowy dresses (do they buy them from the same place?!), their backs turned to the camera as they pose near a famous landmark.
Look, I get the irony of a tourist moaning about other tourists. Live and let live, I hear you say. But I want to see the world without having to queue behind yet another influencer blocking my view.
Photo of the week
I do love a good airport story. And so it was at Bangkok Airport, getting ready to fly out to London, via Doha, when I bumped into these rather hunky, absolutely strapping, gorgeous friendly men from Iran. Turns out they were the national beach soccer team (didn’t realise such a sport existed but you learn something new every day) and they had won this year’s Asian Cup in Thailand. They were very happy to speak to me. Even more amazing was not only were they on the same flight to Doha, they were all sitting right behind me as well!
Look out for…
I have an article in the latest edition of The Spectator magazine. I was asked to write something slightly light-hearted and witty about cousin marriages. Well, as witty as one can make such a serious and heavy subject. But I did my best and you can read it here. I even did an audio recording, which is a bonus for all you lot who like my ‘posh Northern’ accent.
I also recorded a podcast about the subject with Professor Dominic Wilkinson. An NHS neonatologist and ethics expert at the University of Oxford, he argues that banning first cousin marriages would be ‘eugenic’ and ineffective. I obviously disagreed. You can listen to us speaking here.
What a load of bakwas!
When the British-Egyptian chocolatier Sarah Hamouda invented a chocolate bar to satisfy her unusual pregnancy cravings, little did she know that her invention would become a social media sensation. The crunchy, pistachio-flavoured Dubai Chocolate gained notoriety in 2024 and, like anything online these days, has become a ‘must-try’ craze.
Dubai Chocolate is inspired by knafeh, a delicious Middle Eastern dessert made with crispy pastry, oozing with syrup-soaked cheese, and topped with pistachios.
It wasn’t long before major brands and supermarkets around the world leapt on the trend, with the likes of Lidl and Lindt rushing to make their own sickly versions. In fact, it was so popular that many retailers sold out their entire stock almost instantly. Waitrose claimed they had to limit sales to two bars (at £10 each) per customer.
I love pistachios. And pretty much anything covered in chocolate. Yet I could only stomach two pieces. But if I have to hear about this product one more time I’m going to scream. Not only is it expensive (nearly £20!), it’s mediocre and overhyped — much like its namesake city.
That’s all from me this week. In the meantime if you spot any bakwas where you are, please share it with me. See you all very soon.
A great read Iram..x
Fab article, not sure what the wow is about Iranian blokes LOL 🤪