Isolation and Tourism

In all of the articles we read concerning tourism in the 1930s I found the concepts of isolation versus human social interaction to appear again and again. The two opposing urges seem to have coexisted and were reflected in the different forms of lodging available to automobile tourists of the time. In describing the different forms of accommodation, the extent to which they are social or private and isolating are key factors. It is interesting that the venues that are the most social fall on opposite ends of the spectrum—the high end hotel which emphasizes public spaces, and the least expensive and least luxurious option—camping. In between are the motel, which emphasized private space over public and allows visitors to unload directly from the parking lot to their room, and the log cabins which stand alone and offer the same direct path to the automobile without the visitor having to navigate public spaces or interact with fellow travelers. In the social realm, hotels and campgrounds had completely different atmospheres yet both facilitated interaction. “Hotel design emphasized the public spaces: large entrance lobbies, lounges, dining rooms, coffee shops, bars, ballrooms, and meeting rooms” (Jakle 165) and had cramped private spaces. Camping was entirely focused on the shared space as well. It “was a form of social interaction. Not only was the family strengthened through mutual experience, but its members were presented with the opportunities to meet strangers, breaking the inward focused circle imposed by the automobile as mobile social container” (Jakle 152). In comparison the motel offered greater anonymity, “Tourists…could come and go without constant scrutiny” (Jakle 166). The cabin offered a similar feel of inscrutability, one could come and go noncommittally, find just what they needed for the night and no more, and all “with a privacy your hotel could not furnish—for this night this house is your own” (Agee 47).
The automobile itself was in fact an isolating vehicle, people travelled along within an enclosed space, with four walls around them protecting them from interaction with fellow travelers and locals, and even distancing them from the land they were crossing, the country which they had set out to see. As Jakle quotes one traveler “We hardly knew our location ourselves; yet, at least for the moment, we were an integral part of every mile we covered…the essence of it we had with us in the four walls of our car. Our companionship was complete” (Jakle 150). It is as if it became more about the traveler than about where they were traveling or what they were seeing. Much is the case today; so much of the focus is on being able to report back what we have seen to gain cultural capital that we forget to really take in the sights in the moment. So often I see tourists who are far more worried about capturing the perfect picture to remember a place by, but never take the camera away from their eye long enough to experience the place firsthand. While today we prove ourselves by how far away our destinations are, in the time of automobile travel, people looked to prove themselves with the actual distance they had traveled. “To travel long distances, even in relative comfort, was still an accomplishment requiring some stamina and some skill” (Jakle 151). More social forms of travel would have been to an extent the train, but more so the bus, where fellow passengers grew to know each other along the course of the journey. Even here though, the emphasis was on the journey itself rather than on the places experienced. People socialized with their fellow travelers, but still did not make the time to get to know the locals.