"It’s very odd, to be in a city that’s not yours, watching the way it goes about its business." – An American in Paris
There’s always a strange duality in being a tourist. You’re both an outsider and a participant, an observer and a character in the city’s ongoing story. Just as Gene Kelly’s character marvels at the streets of Paris, I, too, have often lost myself in the rhythm of cities—especially Prague, a place I once called home. But as much as I love these places, it’s becoming harder to ignore how modern tourism has transformed them.
People no longer visit cities for their history, culture, or art; they visit to position themselves within them. The world’s most iconic destinations—Paris, Prague, Venice—have long been symbols of romance and creativity, but in the age of social media, they have become something else entirely: backdrops for the perfect shot. And with this shift has come the darker side of consumer tourism—the mass-produced souvenirs, the overpriced experiences, and the growing superficiality that threatens to strip these cities of their soul.
Paris has always been the great romantic ideal, a city immortalized in film, literature, and art. The Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre-Dame—these are not just landmarks, but symbols of beauty, freedom, and culture. Yet standing beneath the Eiffel Tower today, you realize that for many, these meanings no longer matter. What matters is finding the right angle for a photo, one that will rack up the most likes. In the Louvre, visitors don’t linger in front of paintings, absorbing their history; they rush to snap a picture with the Mona Lisa before moving on to the next “must-see” spot.
Prague, for me, is different. I lived there for years, walked its streets in every season, and watched it change. The Charles Bridge, once a quiet passage lined with centuries-old statues, is now nearly impossible to cross without dodging a sea of selfie sticks. No one stops to admire the details of the sculptures, or the view of the Vltava River below—they're too busy capturing the perfect shot. The same is true of the Astronomical Clock, where crowds gather not to appreciate its mechanical genius, but simply to appear in a photo with it.
And then there’s the other great symptom of modern tourism: mindless consumption. Souvenir shops overflow with objects that have little to no connection to the place itself. In Paris, miniature Eiffel Towers—indistinguishable from those sold at every other street corner—are the default keepsake. In Prague, Russian matryoshka dolls, which have nothing to do with Czech culture, dominate souvenir stands. In Venice, cheap plastic masks and gondola figurines flood the market, reducing the city’s rich heritage to trinkets designed for quick and easy consumption.
Of course, these cities are still as breathtaking as ever. Their magic is still there—just harder to find. Sit at a café in Paris, the way Hemingway once did, and you’ll find that even a simple coffee near the Eiffel Tower can set you back €10. In Prague, the charming, historic restaurants of the Old Town have largely been replaced by overpriced, mediocre tourist traps. Hotel prices skyrocket year after year, making these cities increasingly inaccessible—not just financially, but experientially.
And it’s not just here. The same thing happens at the Louvre, Times Square, the Taj Mahal. The landmarks themselves are no longer the attraction—their representation is. Museums and historical sites are turning into obstacle courses where visitors rush through, ticking off sights as quickly as possible without truly experiencing them. Social media has created a form of tourism where the experience itself is secondary to its digital proof.
The question is: is there a way back? Can we still travel in a way that allows us to truly connect with a place, rather than just using it as a stage? Paris, Prague, and Venice remain as beautiful as ever, but their charm is increasingly drowned out by crowds and consumerism. Perhaps, among future travelers, there will still be those willing to step away from the predictable paths, to explore these cities beyond the lens of a camera.
Because these places deserve more. And so do we.