The Fine Art of Place-Dropping

Spud Hilton: With a subtle, well-crafted remark about your last trip, you, too, can win friends and influence people!

02.26.10 | 11:30 AM ET

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Passing by the desk of a colleague, I noticed his usual carefree blond locks were more closely—and more creatively—trimmed, in a style that seemed to reflect the handiwork of a less-than-holy union of Dirk the Marines’ barber and a 25-horsepower weed whacker.

“Um, new haircut?”

He grinned. “Yup. From a Pakistani man in Barcelona.”

And with that he had practiced a subtle and often unnoticed art form: place-dropping.

Lesser known than its popular cousin, name-dropping, place-dropping shares many of the same elements and goals, but focuses on experiences with places—often exotic or far-flung corners of the map—instead of people for the purpose of raising one’s status within a social hierarchy (even if the hierarchy is anyone within earshot at the pub).

And while it once was enough to offer up the place alone and the fact that you were there, an increasingly well-traveled population makes it necessary to add a wild-card element (sometimes as mundane as getting a haircut) to capture the attention of listeners.

Often, an effective place-drop (not “place dropping,” for obvious reasons) is a short phrase casually blended into a conversation that accomplishes five goals:

1. Conveys that you were there.

2. Explains that you did something interesting. (Because, again, just being there isn’t enough.)

3. Invites requests for further explanation. (Having a larger story is a requirement.)

4. Invites others to briefly share their stories, comparable or not. Again, briefly.

5. Inspires the glowing envy of those for whom “exotic and far-flung” is Epcot Center.

The art form can be at its most brilliant—and brutal—among large groups of longtime travel agents, tour guides or guidebook editors, inflaming a level of one-upmanship that makes beauty pageant contestants look like ganja-smoking slackers. (One of my colleagues usually breaks stalemates with a passing reference to being given a receipt from Maoist rebels in Nepal for having “donated” money at gunpoint.)

Some basics of place-dropping etiquette to consider:

Examples from my own catalog (which, I guess, makes this whole column one big place-drop):

“Exchanging e-mail and rounds of pancha with pushcart drivers in Funchal (Madeira).” (Note: It’s even better if you remember the specific street.)

“Sharing a Fanta Orange with a 90-year-old sheikh in the Jebel Akhdar mountains.”

“Hunting for green curry rotis in downtown Grenville (Grenada).”

“Shopping for stamps in Tabuaeran (Kiribati).”

And my trump card: “Jamming with Bulgarian street musicians in Málaga (Spain).”

Not surprisingly, I have friends who place-drop in Christmas cards. Postcards are too obvious, but a holiday note on the back of a photo from the Kham region of Eastern Tibet fits the standard (and made me mildly ashamed of the photo of Ann and me on a hill behind our San Francisco apartment).

A few more tips:

A warning: Place-dropping is addictive. You can’t use the same drops in the same circles, so you have to keep going to new places. (Although beware of becoming a trophy destination hunter who travels in ever-widening circles of obscurity—it rarely goes hand in hand with deeper understanding of a culture so much as being able to impress friends with cluttered passport pages.)

In the end, in your whole life you might never place-drop, regardless of your far-reaching and exotic travels. But considering the requirements (to go someplace interesting and do something interesting), it certainly couldn’t hurt to go with the approach that you will.