Ah, the Airbnb Tourist. Fresh off the plane, they’ve arrived in Mallorca, clutching a confirmation email, a vague set of directions that will eventually lead them to a “charming” (read: tiny) apartment, and a determination to blend in — despite the fact that they’ve packed their entire wardrobe into a suitcase the size of a small car. Their first challenge? Dragging that wheeled monstrosity through Mallorca’s charming, ankle-twisting cobbled streets, an experience which makes them reconsider everything they thought they knew about travel and physics.
Appearance:
The Airbnb Tourist is a walking Pinterest board of vacation aspirations, wrapped in cotton, linen, cargo pants and optimism. They wear casual-chic outfits that suggest they’re ready for spontaneous exploration—think wide-brimmed sun hats, sunglasses so big they could double as riot shields, and shoes they’ll regret as soon as they take their first wobbly step on uneven stone. They’re dressed for an effortless stroll through charming towns, but their actual experience will involve sweating profusely and muttering profanities under their breath.
And then there’s the suitcase. It’s not just any suitcase—it’s the suitcase. Possibly bright neon, or covered in stickers from every town they’ve ever stayed in (because you can’t have authenticity without souvenirs). This wheeled behemoth is not so much luggage as it is a physical representation of their misplaced confidence. The suitcase will quickly become their mortal enemy, thanks to Mallorca’s medieval streets that were clearly designed by someone with a personal vendetta against travelers.
Habits:
The Airbnb Tourist’s adventure begins the moment they’re dropped off by a taxi at the edge of some narrow, cobbled alleyway that looks picturesque in daylight but is quickly revealed to be a wheelie suitcase’s worst nightmare. The first few minutes are spent consulting printed instructions (because for some reason, they still don’t trust Google Maps) that read something like “Turn left at the big fountain” or “Look for the blue door.” These cryptic clues, paired with the clunk-clunk-clunk of their luggage, lead to a cacophony that could best be described as “urban disturbance.”
Determined and naïve in equal measure, they trundle along, optimistic that the apartment is “just around the corner.” The suitcase, however, has other plans. It will bounce, flip, and catch on every bump and crack, transforming what should have been a two-minute walk into a marathon of frustration. At some point, they’ll consider abandoning the luggage altogether, but the thought of sacrificing all those Instagram-worthy outfits keeps them going.
By the time they arrive at their Airbnb—after no less than three wrong turns, one panicked phone call to the host, and several deeply resentful glances at the cobbles—they’ll be sweaty, frazzled, and harboring a deep-seated hatred for anyone who thought cobblestones were a good idea.
Behavioral Traits:
Once settled, the Airbnb Tourist’s next goal is to experience “authentic” Mallorcan life. They’ve read all the reviews about “hidden gems” and “local experiences,” and they’re determined to avoid anything that might make them look like a typical tourist—except, of course, the fact that they’re staying in an Airbnb designed specifically for tourists at the expense of local residents. Their first stop is usually a local café, where they’ll attempt to order in Spanish, only to immediately revert to English after realizing they have no idea what they just said.
Every experience is viewed through the lens of a future review, because if there’s one thing Airbnb tourists love more than immersion, it’s leaving feedback. “The apartment was quaint,” they’ll write later, “but the Wi-Fi wasn’t strong enough to stream Netflix.” (Because God forbid you miss out on season four of Emily in Paris while on your Mallorcan getaway.)
Their day is a series of loosely planned wanderings. They’ll ignore maps and trust their “adventurous spirit,” which translates to getting hopelessly lost until their phone’s battery threatens to die. When they stumble upon a slightly decrepit church or a back alley that vaguely resembles something out of a guidebook, they’ll take a million photos and caption them on Instagram with, “Found this hidden gem—#livinglikealocal.”
Interactions with Locals:
The Airbnb Tourist loves the “idea” of chatting with locals but often falls short in execution. They assume anyone carrying bread must be a local, and they’ll approach with all the subtlety of a lost sheep on a busy thoroughfare. “Excuse me,” they’ll shout, as if volume somehow compensates for the language barrier, “where’s the beach?” Half the time, the person they’re asking turns out to be another tourist just as lost as they are, dragging their own wheely suitcase along with equally defeated enthusiasm.
When they do manage to engage with a real local, they’ll be baffled by the laid-back attitude towards time. “What do you mean everything’s closed until 5 p.m.?” they’ll ask, incredulously. The Airbnb host, who has seen it all before, will patiently explain the quirks of island life, smiling while internally wondering why so many people insist on arriving with luggage the size of a refrigerator.
The Cobbled Street Conundrum:
The Airbnb Tourist’s true nemesis, of course, is the cobbled street. Every step they take is punctuated by the relentless *clack-clack-clack* of suitcase wheels battering against uneven stones. By the third street, they’ve stopped to reconsider their life choices. By the fifth, they’re fantasizing about moving to a place where all roads are made of linoleum. When the wheels finally give out (as they inevitably do), they’re left dragging their suitcase behind them like a dead body—an image which perfectly captures the death of their initial optimism.
By the end of their stay, they’ll have developed a Pavlovian response to the sight of cobblestones: immediate dread. They’ll vow to pack lighter next time, maybe even switch to a backpack, but deep down, they know the next trip will be just as cumbersome and cobble-clattered as this one.
Social Media Presence:
Their Instagram feed is a curated masterpiece of travel clichés. Expect endless photos of charming alleys, plates of tapas, and hastily staged selfies in front of historic landmarks. Every image is accompanied by captions like “Lost in the beauty of Mallorca #wanderlust #airbnbvibes,” conveniently omitting the part where they spent an hour dragging their suitcase across the island’s version of an obstacle course.
What they don’t post? The red-faced, sweaty struggle of carrying said suitcase up four flights of stairs to their illegally let “quaint, centrally-located” apartment.
Conclusion:
The Airbnb Tourist is an optimistic, determined soul, willing to endure the trials of wheely suitcases and cobbled streets in the name of “living like a local.” They may never fully master the art of packing light or navigating ancient roads, but they’ll leave with plenty of stories, sore shoulders, and a newfound appreciation for flat, paved sidewalks. And, of course, another five-star review on Airbnb.
