So I saw THIS Atlantic article linked on Bluesky and I found myself conflicted, nodding in agreement with almost everything the author wrote, yet simultaneously thinking he sounded exhausting and pretentious himself.

It made me think though, that while this absolutely jibes with everything I’ve thought after hearing from my acquaintances who have gone on them – and from extrapolating based on my own understanding of their personalities – I’ve never really asked “peers” what they think. Have you been? How was it? Why would you agree to be trapped inside a compacted hotel where you will literally die if you leave at the wrong time?

…also I didn’t think I could post the link in !news@lemmy.world

EDIT:

After 44 comments, here’s where we stand:

  • 28 (including me) responding to the questions

  • 21 have been, 7 (including me) have not.

  • Of the 21, 15 liked it, and 6 didn’t (some answers were a bit ambivalent, so I made a judgment call)

  • Of the 7, 5 didn’t think they’d like it and 2 implied they might in very specific circumstances. I guess technically I could make 3, but I don’t really want to “camp” on a personal family history reenactment.

So, of those who have been, the vast majority saw value in it. The people who haven’t been either know themselves or have some serious sour grapes; I choose to believe it’s the former, for completely scientifically objective reasons.

  • wjrii@lemmy.worldOPEnglish
    1·
    7 months ago

    I might potentially enjoy something like an Atlantic crossing, almost like the maritime version of camping, in respect to my immigrant ancestors from the 1920s, but I just don’t understand the appeal of mediocre food with no options, cramped conditions with no options, and constant marketing and price gouging with no options, a fixed itinerary with no options, and all the while calling it luxury. “Luxury” to me is time and space and quiet and choice.

    We did an all-inclusive for our honeymoon, almost twenty years ago now, and we both got so bored, and so sick of horny Brits sunburned into boozy lobsters, that we hopped a flight to Miami for the second half of it.