The Bright Side of Breaking Bad Tourism

If you’re an Albuquerque native and you have friends in other cities, maybe they’ve been a little more interested in our city ever since Breaking Bad went on the air.

In this week’s issue of The New Yorker, Rachel Syme has a great article about Breaking Bad tourism in Albuquerque. Syme, an Albuquerque native, calls these tourists “Breaking Bad pilgrims”; and from an outsider’s perspective, all of the imagery and events going on surrounding the TV show might seem a little odd. But many feel like the show represents the grittiness, multicultural appeal, and the natural beauty of Albuquerque.

Syme summed it up nicely in her article:

Driving around Albuquerque, New Mexico, where I grew up, you see “Breaking Bad” pilgrims everywhere. They descend from tour buses and trolleys to snap pictures of Walter White’s house and, possibly, to toss a pizza on the roof (for an extra fee). They visit the city in search of Jesse Pinkman’s R.V. and the wide, cinematic landscapes from the show. Debbie Ball, a local confectioner known as the Candy Lady, who has a shop of the same name, has made a small fortune selling dime bags of blue rock candy meant to evoke Heisenberg’s meth formulation. “They just don’t stop coming,” she told me. “Suddenly, they’re all here.” It took a long time to get people to Albuquerque—but not for locals’ lack of trying.

One concern in the media, however, has been that the show depicts the city negatively. Syme had a great response to that criticism, citing that Albuquerque’s “underbelly” is worth promoting:

Many people have asked me if I think “Breaking Bad” shines a “bad light” on the state. I don’t. And, often, the unabashed love of Walt and co. by locals (citywide events, themed microbrews, Heisenberg hat manufacturers) is puzzling to outsiders. The show is a fable about seediness and monstrosity and a city ravaged by drug trouble. Baltimore isn’t exactly putting up billboards about “The Wire.” (But we are!) I try to explain that New Mexicans are proud of anything that draws us out of neglect, out of never really fitting in. We are just happy to be considered, even if it is for our underbelly.

To read the full article from the New Yorker, click here.