Should We Be Promoting Travel & Tourism?

As summer looms, overtourism is hitting headlines once again with protests taking place in particularly affected cities. I’ve been thinking a lot about our impact on the places that we travel to, and especially as bloggers who are writing about our experiences and in turn promoting these places.

Ten years ago, when travel blogs were still gaining traction, the majority of destinations talked about on those blogs were fresh in front of a new audience.

With the rise of digital content and social media, it’s become much harder – though not impossible – to find off-beat places to visit. Most of the destinations that were already popular have now become over-touristed, with some imposing caps on daily visitors and even fees to visit. In 2023, Scotland had its most tourists ever, and in March 2024, Japan also welcomed a record number of tourists.

This post contains affiliate links. Please note if you buy or book anything through my links, I may earn a little commission that helps keep this site running, at no extra cost to you. Thank you so much for your support!

In turn, residents in places like Venice, Barcelona and the Canary Islands have hit back at overtourism as it wreaks havoc on their lives. I’ve seen graffiti in Lisbon telling tourists to go home, and Airbnb has become a huge problem in cities where housing is scarce. On the flipside, some residents have spoken out against restrictions as it’s causing more chaos than it’s worth, making it difficult to know what the solution really is.

I’ve watched as tourism campaigns have brought in more visitors than the infrastructure can support (North Coast 500 in Scotland), and as Instagram influencers have taken relatively unknown destinations and catapulted them to Insta-fame (Cappadocia, Turkey). In 2008, I visited Horseshoe Bend in Arizona, feeling like we’d stumbled across a hidden gem as we were virtually the only people there. Fast forward to 2018, and I went back there with Ash, dodging the endless girls in dresses who were applying make-up for their ten-minute photoshoots.

Writing about travel is something that brings me joy, and I particularly love finding unique and interesting places to write about, but equally I grapple with the small voice in my head that says, “is this too off-beat? Should I post about it and potentially draw more tourists?”

(At this point, my imposter syndrome kicks in and tells me that of course I don’t have that much influence – but at the same time, it all counts. In the halcyon days of Twitter, I had over 10,000 followers, and some of my posts on there gained a lot of traction. My blog post about the abandoned Coco Chanel mansion became, and remains, one of my most popular posts within weeks of publishing.)

At the same time, I’m vastly aware of the issue of gatekeeping. Why should we discover things and keep them to ourselves? Is that not why I read other blogs and follow interesting travellers myself? I love learning about new and interesting places, and sharing them is why I started this blog.

Part of it is down to safety issues – I read a great article about the dilemma of writing about lesser-known and challenging hikes. It’s fantastic promoting the outdoors and making it more accessible for people who had never hiked before, giving them the opportunity to fall in love with a healthy and rewarding hobby. But with this comes the responsibility of doing it sustainably and safely. Nature is beautiful and connecting with it is one of the best things we can do, but it’s also unforgiving, and many people’s sense of entitlement carries over into situations that do not care who you are.

Making Ben Nevis seem like it’s doable for the masses is great – but when people turn up in winter, wearing trainers and completely unprepared for the weather and the terrain, putting rescuers’ lives at risk, you start to wonder if promoting these places is really the best idea. There was a record increase in mountain rescues in Scotland in 2021, because inexperienced hikers are unaware of the risks (or, with the endemic sense of entitlement, possibly wilfully ignorant of them).

After all, “death by selfie” became a tragically common way to die, and the week after we were at Yosemite, a couple tumbled off one of the cliffs. Even more tragically, one of their final Instagram posts said people need to be more careful in these types of destinations; that a photo is not worth your life.

One point brought up in the above article is that if people know about the place already, surely it’s better to promote the reality of seeing it, including how to keep safe while doing so. Certainly, the main reason my Coco Chanel mansion post is so popular is because people are already searching for it.

And so I think travel writing needs to come with a shred of responsibility, to let readers know what to actually expect in these destinations instead of planting a romanticised idea of them with no consequences, as well as promoting ways to visit in a safe and beneficial ways.

Read more: Surviving Dubrovnik – And Falling In Love With It

It’s not just about safety, either – it’s about sustainability and managing expectations.

I’ve always advocated travelling in shoulder season, mostly because it benefits us as travellers, with fewer crowds, cheaper prices and reasonable weather that isn’t as overbearing as the full-on summer sun. I’ve realised it’s also good for the destination, taking the burden off them slightly.

There are still plenty of places all over the world that are practically untouched by tourists – the problem is, when we find them, do we tempt fate by promoting them to the masses? And what about popular places? Isn’t it a bit hypocritical to expect people to avoid them after we’ve visited them ourselves?

Social media, in a lot of ways, has been both a blessing and a curse. I’ve made many friends through it who I would never have met without having that network to connect with them in the first place. I’ve found genuine inspiration, information and advice. But it’s definitely a curse too, giving platforms for nefarious views and emboldening extreme movements (which we have certainly seen a lot of in recent years), opening up doors for disdainful and even threatening comments with very little consequence. Even if you’re in a position to ignore these and use it as an escape, the idealism portrayed in everyone’s photos and updates serve not just as an aspirational tool, but, unintentionally or not, to simply make you feel worse about yourself.

Because if you’re not in a floaty dress enjoying breakfast that probably looks better than it tastes, with a view of all the hot air balloons in Cappadocia, are you really living?

This boils down to one simple problem: too many people DO see these photos as aspirational. One tiny promotion of a beautiful place spirals into flocks of tourists heading there to take the exact same photo… just to then promptly leave again, contributing nothing.

I’m guilty of it to an extent, as I do a lot of fast travel. However the biggest difference for me is that, while I love travel and of course I do it for largely selfish reasons (*I* want to see these places, *I* want to have these experiences), I post about it out of a love for the places I visit and the joy of travel. I don’t post anything with the intention of “look at me and where I’ve been” – after all, I forget to even take photos of myself in a lot of places! Travel for me is not a vanity project.

Read more: Highlights Of Venice – On & Off The Beaten Path

It’s the latter that seems to create this sense of entitlement when it comes to travel. People pushing boundaries for what they can create and show off. Climbing the pyramids, taking dangerous photos around hot springs, trampling sunflower fields, and yes, falling off cliffs, all in the name of social media.

This isn’t the kind of promotion the world needs. We need to be more realistic, more sensible, and most of all, more sustainable.

We need to be discouraging bad behaviour and unsustainable practices, while actively advocating ways to help communities, contribute to economies, and protect these beautiful places instead of treating everywhere like a theme park and ruining them for everyone else. There’s a good reason people are protesting against tourism, and it’s not just because of crowds.

While I love photography and do sometimes make a concerted effort to get photos without crowds, I am also aware that if I get photos with crowds, why does it matter? The Instagram vs reality effect has been well documented by now, but people still fall for it. I want everything I post to be real, not some curated fantasy land to entice people to destinations where they might ultimately be disappointed.

I know that life is short. We all want to experience “the best” because it feels like, in this day and age, there’s no time to allow the mediocre. There’s more pressure for everything to be perfect, otherwise is it even worth it?

It’s natural to be influenced by other people – that’s what humanity is. I think it’s also important to make sure you’re being influenced for the right reasons, and equally that the people who are influencing are also doing it for the right reasons.

There has been a lot of talk in the past about the privilege of travel. I’ve always been torn between the idea of everyone being able to travel (they can’t), and acknowledging that travel is a massive privilege. Of course it’s a privilege – I am grateful to be in a position to have seen so many places, and to have a passport that allows me to do so. Many people are not so fortunate.

However, a lot of people in similar or even better positions than me tell me I’m “lucky”, and I am but I’m not – I prioritise my money for travel. For years, I worked seasonal jobs and travelled in between them, with no stability or security, all to do things like staying in hostels and taking overnight trains. To me, it was worth it; for others, it would be a massive, anxiety-inducing compromise.

Related reading: 50+ Ways To Seriously Save Money To Travel

That said, I also know people who have had incredible experiences, far more than I could ever afford, and found out later they’re riddled with debt in order to do it. How many people on Instagram showing off their “perfect” lives are in the same position? And, on the other side, how many influencers are disingenuously being paid a fortune to live and promote an unattainable life?

That’s no way to influence people, and is a separate and important issue, but something I think is interlinked with this topic of sustainability as people seek to imitate the perfect lives they see on social media. Promoting tourism can negatively affect the destinations, but it can also negatively affect the people we’re promoting to. It’s not realistic, and it’s not really helping anyone.

And what about the environmental impact of travel? The more people who travel, and are influenced to travel, the more impact there is.

It’s easy to say you’ll never fly again, but in reality this is more limiting than just cutting off any long-haul destinations. It’s one thing for someone in the south east of England to be able to drive to Europe for a weekend, but it would be an additional 16 hour round trip for us – time and additional costs we cannot afford. From Orkney, it would likely add a two day journey each way.

I’ve stopped flying domestically where I can, but when trains in the UK can cost hundreds of pounds, and flying is £30 each way, it can be financially crippling to choose the greener option. It’s worse when strikes mean they might not even run. In fact, I was able to claim back almost all of my rail fares for over a year due to heavy delays and cancellations. It’s not a sustainable system, and unfortunately one that needs to be fixed at a much higher level than we can at a consumer level.

Holidaying in your own country also became hugely popular in the face of the pandemic, but in reality, we spent more on a trip to the Outer Hebrides than we did on our trip to Malta.

It really comes back to privilege – I’ve followed people’s journeys as they’ve cycled through Europe, taking months off from their jobs to be able to do so. Not everyone has that privilege. Likewise, I’ve had years where I’ve barely flown at all, but those have been the years where I’ve moved abroad and had the time to travel slowly while there. Our experience of Australia would have been very different and fast-paced if we had only visited for three weeks. In Asia, we backpacked by bus and train for three months. The majority of people do not have that privilege.

Read more: A Car-Free Adventure On The Isle Of Bute, Scotland

So yes, while it’s possible to be more environmentally friendly, it’s not always feasible. Undoubtedly though, promoting tourism only serves to exacerbate the problem, and once again there is a growing feeling that there is a responsibility to showcase sustainable options.

I usually do this once I’m in a destination – many of our trips encompass several cities at once, turning what could have been two separate weekend trips to Porto and Lisbon into one long weekend trip where we visited both cities by train, or by doing a bus tour through the Balkans which could otherwise have been several trips. Slow travel and combination trips, to me, are the way forward in seeing as much as we can while trying to ease our environmental impact.

And once you’re in a destination, there are plenty of ways to help lower the impact of your stay – choosing eco-friendly accommodation, using public transport (where this won’t be detrimental to local services), supporting independent businesses. A lot of companies also need to be aware of their own environmental impact, and it’s important to champion the ones who are doing the right thing.

Beyond this, there are plenty of ways to contribute to the community, an ever-growing issue in overtourism. Simply remembering that you are in a place where people live, rather than your own personal Disneyland, and showing respect to everyone you meet goes a long way. I am often stunned that this needs to be said, but you wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve seen or heard about. It’s no wonder people are protesting against tourism.

Read more: I’ve Still Never Used Airbnb – Here’s Why

There’s no easy solution, and some need to be tackled by local governments and corporations. One of the biggest issues is Airbnb infiltrating the housing market and negatively impacting residents who can no longer afford to live in the cities they’re in. This needs regulation, but while the consumer demand is there, it’s still a problem. The same goes for businesses; on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh, there are virtually no facilities left for the residents, but a whopping 72 gift shops for tourists.

Travelling mindfully, visiting places out of curiosity rather than simply self-gratification, and treating locals with respect while following customs; these are the things that can make a difference. Popular destinations shouldn’t be outright avoided, but it feels like people’s general attitudes need to change.

If we can show small steps to a more sustainable way to travel, and promote realistic options, I believe we can help to build a great world of travel – one that benefits communities, consumers, and the planet.

I know overtourism is a hot topic at the moment, so I’d love to hear your thoughts and any tips you’d add. Are there things you actively do to limit your impact in a destination?

Read some of my favourite travel posts below:
⭐ One Of The Best Weeks Of Our Lives Volunteering At Elephant Nature Park
⭐ Sorrow In Sarajevo: A Heartbreaking Tale Of The Bosnian Capital
⭐ Road Tripping The Icefields Parkway In Autumn
⭐ Why It’s Important To Travel Now More Than Ever
⭐ Why I’ve Given Up Counting Countries