Visitors & People

Why We Come Back

It’s not the ride. It’s the bench.

23 June 2025

By Leo Brown

There’s a particular kind of magic in the places we return to. Not the jaw-dropping, headline-grabbing kind - but the quiet, familiar kind. The sort you barely notice at the time, until you find yourself back again, almost without thinking, retracing steps that somehow feel like home.

And I say this as someone who spends most of their time thinking about systems. I’m big on tech - building tools, improving processes, smoothing out the behind-the-scenes mess that makes visitor attractions work. But when you spend so long in the back office, it’s easy to forget what really brings people through the front door.

No one visits for a well-structured database, they visit for a feeling.

I worked at one attraction for years. A fairly small one. The sort of place where you get to know your regulars, not by name necessarily, but by habit. You notice the people who always stop in the same spot. The ones who only come on Tuesdays. The ones who say very little, but return often, walking the same path.

You start to realise that, for many visitors, it’s not a leisure activity. It’s an anchor. A memory, revisited. A person remembered. Then sometimes, you are privileged enough to learn their stories.

The woman who always stops at the same tree because her dad used to sit there. The couple who visit the museum every wedding anniversary because it’s where they had their first date. The man who brings his grandson now, because his wife used to love the garden, and it makes him feel close to her again.

These aren’t just visits. They’re rituals. Acts of remembering.

We talk a lot about heritage in this sector - about protecting buildings, artefacts, archives. But we forget that people have heritage too. That their stories live in these spaces. And sometimes, they return not to see something new, but to feel something familiar.

There’s a nature reserve I used to go to as a child. At the top of a big hill - surrounded by nothing but unkept bushes and wildflowers - there was a wooden bench. On it, a plaque:

“In memory of Jock, who spent many happy hours here.”

I never met Jock. But I do think about him often. I imagine him sitting there, the same way I once did, taking in the view. I know nothing about him, but I know that someone loved this place enough to make it part of their story. And that, one day, maybe I would too.

When we talk about customer loyalty, we’re often too quick to reach for the marketing tools. Discounts. Membership schemes. Brand refreshes. But loyalty - the kind that builds over years, over generations - comes from somewhere much softer.

It’s not that attractions shouldn’t change. Of course they should - adapt, improve, respond to the world. But there’s a difference between growth and churn. You can introduce new things without overwriting the old ones people are attached to.

Sometimes the most radical thing you can do is keep something the same.

That particular bench. That view from the path. That wooden statue in the corner of the woodland that everyone’s kids have posed with for the past decade. Don’t underestimate how much those things matter. They’re not just background - they’re emotional architecture. They give visitors a sense of continuity in a world that changes far too fast.

I’ve sat in plenty of meetings about how to boost repeat visits. Usually the ideas involve something loud - a seasonal event, a flashy new exhibit, a rebrand. But the truth is, people come back when they feel like a place remembers them. When it feels consistent, known, safe.

It’s okay to just be the place where someone feels a bit more like themselves.

And this isn’t just sentimentality - it’s good business. The quiet regulars are often your most loyal visitors. They might not spend big or post about it on social media, but they show up. Year after year. Sometimes with friends. Sometimes with children. Sometimes alone. And they bring with them a deep sense of belonging.

If you’re managing or marketing a heritage site, don’t lose sight of that. The stories aren’t all in the archives, sometimes they’re walking through your admissions gate. They’re holding on to memories of people who aren’t here anymore. And when they return, they’re not just visiting a place. They’re reconnecting with something - or someone - they’ve loved.

So next time you’re wondering what to invest in, what to upgrade, what to remove, pause for a moment.

Maybe ask a different question: What do people come back for? And what would happen if it wasn’t there?

Because while spectacle might draw a crowd, it’s comfort, memory, and meaning that bring people back.

Again and again.

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All views and opinions expressed on this site, or in any of my work, are solely my own and do not represent those of any company or client I am affiliated with, whether currently or previously.

© Leo Brown, All Rights Reserved

All views and opinions expressed on this site, or in any of my work, are solely my own and do not represent those of any company or client I am affiliated with, whether currently or previously.

© Leo Brown, All Rights Reserved

All views and opinions expressed on this site, or in any of my work, are solely my own and do not represent those of any company or client I am affiliated with, whether currently or previously.

© Leo Brown, All Rights Reserved