I spent $400 a night for a hotel with a famous Niagara Falls view. The best views were free.

My Niagara Falls itinerary was complete: a drive from Maryland to Buffalo, then across the border into Canada, where a stay at one of the most epic-looking hotels awaited.

At least, that’s what I had planned.

I’ve spent about five years in the travel space, helping destinations tell stories.

I’ve toured hotels, photographed attractions, and spent years thinking about what makes someone stop scrolling and book a trip.

Surprisingly, none of my expertise stopped me from falling for a photograph.

In the weeks leading up to my trip with my daughters, ages 11 and 14, I found myself doing what millions of travelers do before a vacation: scrolling Instagram.

When you’re traveling with teens, getting the perfect photo can sometimes feel like its own vacation milestone.

I searched the location tag for Niagara Falls and studied photo after photo, trying to pinpoint the exact spot where the most impressive ones had been taken.

I wanted the shot that would instantly tell everyone I was here.

Again and again, I saw images of hotel rooms overlooking the falls with beds positioned as if they were almost floating above the water.

Travelers were sipping their coffee while staring directly at one of North America’s most iconic natural wonders.

The photos made it seem as though the water was almost directly against the window, an illusion created with a falls view room.

Seeing this view became one of the main reasons I booked the trip.

My room at Niagara Falls Marriott on the Falls wasn’t cheap.

Each night was around $400, and I’d convinced myself it was worth every penny for the Instagram-famous perspective I’d been dreaming of seeing.

The room wasn’t bad, and honestly, it was quite nice.

Arriving at night, I could watch the falls glow with colorful illuminations above the mist from my balcony.

However, for a photo, it wasn’t the dramatic perspective I’d envisioned.

The room sat further back from the water than I was expecting, and the view wasn’t immersive like the images that inspired me.

Later, I learned that the photos were of Niagara Falls Marriott Fallsview Hotel & Spa, the property situated just across the road, right on the water.

Both boasted a falls view, but only one had made it into Instagram virality in my feed.

At first, I was annoyed with myself.

Even after years of working in travel marketing, I had gotten caught chasing an image instead of an experience.

I stopped comparing my trip to the one I’d imagined online and started living in the moment.

I lingered longer than planned, wandered without checking my itinerary, and settled into the vacation feeling that arrives when you simply let yourself be there.

One afternoon, I stopped at the nearby IHOP for a meal.

From my table above the water, I had a clear view of what appeared to be the hotel I’d originally wanted to book.

I could see the towering windows stacked floor after floor above the falls.

Looking down, I could make out silhouettes of guests standing by windows or lounging on beds positioned directly against the glass.

It looked exactly like the photos, just from the outside.

For the first time, I noticed what the photos never showed: how visible everyone was.

Travelers sat right against the windows, admiring the falls while becoming part of the view themselves.

Suddenly, my own room seemed more appealing.

I still had a view of the falls, but I also had privacy.

I wasn’t spending my vacation like I was on display inside a giant glass box when the curtains were open.

Somewhere between planning the trip and taking it, I’d started optimizing for how the vacation would look instead of how it would feel.

The experience reminded me of something I already knew professionally but had forgotten as a traveler.

Travel marketing is powerful because it’s designed to capture a feeling.

Photographers wait for the perfect light.

Destinations highlight their most dramatic angle.

Hotels showcase their most spectacular rooms.

It’s marketing’s job to present the best version of an experience.

However, a single image can also flatten reality.

It can convince us that one view or angle is the trip, when really it’s one small part.

As the days passed, I spent less time thinking about my hotel window and more time enjoying Niagara Falls itself — the mist on my face near the water, the sound of the falls at night, the energy of the crowds at Clifton Hill.

The irony is that after spending more than $400 a night chasing a view, some of my favorite vantage points of Niagara Falls were completely free.

The overlooks along the promenade offered wide, dramatic perspectives that I couldn’t see from the hotel.

As someone who has spent years helping destinations market themselves, that may have been the most valuable travel lesson of all: a destination’s beauty is rarely confined to one angle.

Fortunately, Niagara Falls was impressive enough that once I stopped looking for the perfect photograph, I finally saw the destination itself.