The New Yorker - USA (2020-09-21)

(Antfer) #1

THENEWYORKER,SEPTEMBER21, 2020 17


the other day, from his home, in Evergreen,
Colorado. “The world is different than
it was. The tourism business is suffering.
But it just doesn’t make a lot of sense to
get on a plane right now, unless you re­
ally have to.”
Lately, Levy has been pushing an al­
ternative to Stateside travel: obtaining
a twelve­month worker certificate from
Bermuda. His company represents the
British territory, which is situated ap­
proximately six hundred and fifty miles
off the North Carolina coast and has a
population of more than sixty thou­
sand. Unlike most places, Bermuda
wants visitors—its economy is depen­
dent on them. “There’s practically no
COVID there,” Levy said. (Only a hun­
dred and seventy­ seven COVID cases
have been confirmed on the island; eight
are currently active.) “It’s a prime op­
portunity,” he added. “And they’ve got
really robust testing.”
More than three hundred people from
a dozen countries—including Brazil,
China, South Africa, and Bangladesh—
have applied for Bermuda’s certificate
program, which launched in August.
Certification for a twelve­month stay
costs two hundred and sixty­three dol­
lars (lodging not included). Sadie Mil­
lard, a New Yorker in her forties who
works as a partner at a Wall Street bro­

kerage firm, got a head start. She was
visiting her boyfriend, who works as a
civil engineer in Bermuda, when COVID
hit New York, in March. “I came for the
weekend, then things got crazy,” she said.
Airlines began suspending outbound
flights from the island, her firm closed
its offices, and employees began work­
ing remotely. She decided to stay. Her
partners at the firm are fine with it. Even
if there were in­person meetings to at­
tend (there are not), New York is just a
two­hour flight away.
Trading her six­hundred­square­foot
apartment for a house near a golf course
was not a tough call. “Nothing was open
in New York,” she said. “No theatre, no
concerts, no anything.” Storm season
has arrived, but Millard, who expects to
receive her worker certificate next week,
is taking her chances: “I’d rather go
through a hurricane than get COVID in
New York City.”
Back in Colorado, Levy couldn’t stop
himself from pitching a potential future
traveller on Nebraska, one of his stalled
accounts. What would this tourist do
there? “It’s really worth floating down
a river in a livestock tank with a few
buddies,” Levy said, a pastime that lo­
cals call “tanking.” He added, “But only
once it’s safe again.”
—Charles Bethea

“Oh, that’s just all the online yoga she’s been doing lately.”

• •


ropes? The campaign was intended to
slow the spread of the coronavirus in a
state that’s had more than sixty thou­
sand cases of COVID­19, while simulta­
neously whetting travellers’ appetites for
post­ pandemic trips.
Campaigns to keep people out are
not exactly new. In the seventies, an Or­
egon governor proclaimed, “For heav­
en’s sake, don’t move here.” Long before
Seattle became a mecca for Kurt Co­
bain fans, a prescient local journalist
popularized the slogan “Keep the Bas­
tards Out!” In 2018, Nebraska introduced
the catchphrase “Honestly, It’s Not for
Everyone,” which actually succeeded in
bringing more people to the Cornhusker
State—“which had been among the least
likely states for anybody to visit for a
long time,” John Ricks, Nebraska’s tour­
ism director, said recently.
Ricks, who is based in Lincoln, helped
come up with “Honestly, It’s Not for Ev­
eryone,” which was inspired by a concept
from the field of medicine. “Inoculation
is what we call it,” Ricks said. “That’s
where you feed off the negative percep­
tion.” He went on, “We’ve been fortunate
during this COVID crisis. People say, ‘Go
to open places, smaller cities, rural com­
munities, places you’ve never been.’ Well,
that’s our product!” Of course, if there
were an uptick in cases, Nebraska could
change course and tout the old percep­
tions of the state. As Ricks put it, “Noth­
ing to do, flat and boring, dusty plains.”
Jimmy Im, the Brooklyn­based founder
of the Web site TravelBinger, claims to
have visited more hotels around the world
(“six hundred and counting”) than any­
one else, and has been to some forty states
in his capacity as a travel professional.
“And I’ve been invited to many of the
rest,” he said, mentioning Nebraska. But
for now he’s staying put at home, in Wil­
liamsburg. Im offered tourism boards
some unsolicited slogans, to help them
keep vacationers away. Florida: “Gover­
nor Ron is a Douchebag.” Iowa: “Not
Enough Attractions.” California: “It’s a
Natural Disaster.” Idaho: “Neo­Nazis
and Whatnot.”
Telling tourists not to go somewhere—
facetiously, or as a matter of life and
death—is an about­face for most travel­
industry professionals. “It’s hard,” Camp­
bell Levy, a vice­president at Turner, a
public­relations company with travel­
related clients in two dozen states, said

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