The original article was published in Michelin Guide. Read HERE.
Writer: Mark Fedeli
Whenever an episode of Anthony Bourdain’s TV show focused on Southeast Asia, it always seemed to include a few references to Apocalypse Now and Heart of Darkness. That movie, that book, and those countries, together with a voiceover written by Bourdain himself, combined to unlock what would become his signature style — and what would become some of the most influential travel content of the 21st Century.
(I never knew him, but I’m pretty sure he’d hate me for describing his artistic output as “content.” Or maybe he’d be more sickened by the pretentiousness of “artistic output.”)
I’m writing about Bourdain here, in a story about the beach hotels of Southeast Asia, because the region was so important to him, and because he was so important to travel. His influence was massive, not because Vietnam made him think of war movies — he’s not the first person to relate his daily experiences through the pop culture he’d consumed — but because he showed that visitors to a place can and sometimes should feel insecure about being there. That tourists should question their role in why that place is the way it is, and whether or not they’re making the situation any better by being there. For a nationally televised travel show, that was radical.
He did it not as a journalist, but as a handsome, charming TV host — one with nothing to sell and no sunny, kumbaya conclusions to mandate. He examined himself as much as his destination, and he was prone to tangents, always peeking into the periphery. If the bulk of an episode needed to be spent exploring a vague feeling he couldn’t shake, or following the strands of a morally complicated narrative with no resolution, so be it. That’s what made his so unique among travel shows, and that’s why I’m sparing a few paragraphs for him here, off on a tangent of my own.
Aside from the times they were stuck at one during an international incident, it’s rare you saw the hotels in which Bourdain and crew were staying between forays. That would have diminished some of the necessary illusion (Kurtz wasn’t holed up at a Hilton). Nevertheless, hotels are a critical part of travel and surprisingly capable of reflecting the truth of their environment. The very best of them strive to embrace and improve their surroundings, incorporating the reality of the place so guests leave with a better understanding of where they’ve been and how they’ve affected it.
It’s a delicate dance for high-end hospitality, there’s no doubt, and maybe one that hasn’t always come naturally. But attitudes are changing fast. Some of the hotels below are models of sensitivity or sustainability, others are working toward those goals, all of them understand that a truly memorable experience shouldn’t shut out local culture and history. Most importantly, they know that more and more travelers are rejecting the hallmarks of mass-market tourism, and they’re eager to accommodate those evolving tastes. They wouldn’t be on Tablet otherwise.
Tides are turning. Sands are shifting. Engagement is replacing escapism. Maybe Anthony Bourdain can take a tiny bit of responsibility for that. Tangentially.
Hotel Tugu Lombok
Lombok, Indonesia
Take one look at Hotel Tugu Lombok, and the giant rooster sculpture, visible from miles away, proudly perched atop a towering, dramatically lit open-air restaurant, and you know that this resort has no interest in seamlessly blending into the landscape. The Tugu Lombok is over-the-top, to be sure, but the aesthetic is firmly rooted in the region’s rich pre-colonial history, most particularly the ancient Majapahit era, when a prosperous Hindu kingdom ruled the island.