New York, NY - October 24, 2022: fans flock to the home of the fictitious TV character Carrie Bradshaw of Sex and the City, in the West Village of Manhattan Tourists gather outside the Sex and the City apartment in New York. Photo / Getty Images
New York, NY - October 24, 2022: fans flock to the home of the fictitious TV character Carrie Bradshaw of Sex and the City, in the West Village of Manhattan Tourists gather outside the Sex and the City apartment in New York. Photo / Getty Images
THE FACTS
Set-jetting refers to the travel trend where tourists visit real-world locations from movies, TV shows and series.
Expedia has identified set-jetting as a top 2026 trend, heightened by the increased popularity of streaming services like Netflix.
According to Expedia, ’53% of travellers say their desire to take a set-jetting trip has increased.’
In this week’s Travel Hot Take, travel writer Tamara Hinsondiscloses her dislike for one of 2026’s top travel trends: set-jetting.
Recently, the owner of the apartment that doubled as the home of Sex and the City’s Carrie applied for permission to install a gate at thebottom of her stoop in an effort to fend off, among other things, bloggers snapping selfies next to her front door. Other incidents she cited included the impromptu visit by a film scout who told her his career would be over if she didn’t allow her house to be used in his film, and the Tik-Tokker who carved her name into the doorframe. Then there’s the quaint Austrian village of Hallstatt, home to 800 residents, many of whom staged a protest after daily visitor numbers exceeded 10,000. Almost all were Frozen fans, lured there after learning that its quaint churches inspired the film.
Exterior of 66 Perry St, one of five properties that were used as Carrie's apartment from Sex and The City. Photo / Getty
To be clear, these incidents didn’t occur decades ago. They happened in the past few years, despite the fact Carrie and co (or at least, actress Sarah Jessica Parker) are long gone (and also, you could argue, the fact that it’s just a door), or that the first Frozen movie came out in 2013. In Scotland, selfie-snapping Trainspotting fans still flock to various locations in Edinburgh and Glasgow, both of which doubled as backdrops for a movie filmed 30 years ago. Apparently, the most visited spots include Edinburgh’s Calton Street Bridge, where drug addict Renton is hit by a car, Glasgow’s Buchanan St, where various drug deals take place, and Rouken Glen Park, where Sick Boy shoots a dog in the bottom. Suddenly Carrie’s door looks rather inviting.
Glasgow's Buchanan Street, a Trainspotting filming location. Photo / Unsplash
But what does set-jetting achieve? Personally, in an era when we spend far too much time disconnected from the real world, I can’t help but wonder what we gain by spending even more time hunting down locations which in many ways, don’t actually exist, or turn out to be depressingly inferior to the backlit, filtered and AI-enhanced versions we saw at the cinema.
Yes, there are benefits. Research suggests one in five visitors to New Zealand visit the country primarily to check out Lord of the Rings locations, providing a huge financial boost for various industries. America’s Death Valley stood in for Tatooine in the original Star Wars film, made in 1977, and official signs marking filming locations are a reminder that set-jetters are still regular visitors to what is, let’s face it, a barren wasteland where the smattering of diners and petrol stations are almost certainly grateful for those Wookie-loving movie buffs.
But there’s a darker side to set-jetting. The Beach, filmed in 2000, made the tiny islet of Ko Phi Phi Leh (which has no amenities) a magnet for tourists, who could visit on day trips but were banned from staying overnight. The islet started receiving over 6000 visitors a day, and it emerged that the coral reefs off the islet’s Maya Bay had been damaged by anchors dropped by boats. Litter left on the sand and tossed into the sea severely impacted the wildlife.
Maya Bay, Ko Phi Phi Leh, was overwhelmed by tourists after The Beach. Photo / Getty Images
A confession: I visited Ko Phi Phi Leh 15 years ago, posing for pictures on Maya Bay and failing miserably to secure a selfie without crowds of other tourists in the background. Three years ago I returned to write a piece about conservation and the reopening of Ko Phi Phi Leh, temporarily made off-limits in an effort to restore reefs and provide wildlife with much-needed respite. I spoke to divers who regularly conducted voluntary clean-ups there, who told me they often found turtles ensnared in litter dropped by tourists. Shortly after my visit, the island closed again. Today, it’s open to visitors but with certain (understandable but depressing) conditions: boats can’t enter the bay, and tourists can only enter the water up to their knees.
Ironically, much of the damage was done by The Beach’s film crew, who didn’t feel that Maya Bay looked wild enough. Palm trees were planted to make it look more tropical, sand dunes were resculpted and vegetation was ripped up. Local authorities sued 20th Century Fox, but it was the Thai Government that ultimately funded its restoration.
My point? Perhaps we should simply cherish locations from our favourite TV shows and movies and leave it at that, protecting them for future generations, as well as for those who live and work there. And perhaps movie- and TV-related overtourism shouldn’t just be blamed on tourists, but directors prone to creating film-friendly backdrops that don’t just wreak havoc on the location in question, but also result in influxes of visitors who are often left sorely disappointed. Unless, that is, you’re a Trainspotting fan visiting Glasgow’s Maryhill neighbourhood, lured there after watching the scene where Begbie lobs a beer glass across a down-at-heel bar. Glaswegians might hate me for saying this, but visit a Maryhill pub on a Friday night and you’re unlikely to be disappointed.
