Responsible Tourism Starts here. As protests grow louder and locals are priced out of their own neighbourhoods, it’s time to rethink how (and when) we travel.
It’s hard to ignore the noise. Protesters in Palma de Mallorca holding signs that read “Tourists go home”. In Barcelona, cruise ships are now banned from the central terminals as part of new efforts to curb congestion (and a daily cap of vessels is in place, aimed at giving the city room to breathe). In Bali, crowds jostle for the same sunset or swing shot, while temples struggle to remain sacred under the weight of hashtags. Even Florence – long romanticised – is reaching a saturation point that’s neither charming nor sustainable.
It’s time to think ‘Responsible Tourism’
At first glance, it’s easy to feel defensive. Isn’t travel meant to be a force for good? Isn’t economic uplift the whole idea? But look closer and the tension is clear. In many of the world’s most beloved cities, the gap between what tourism brings in and what it takes away is widening.
The Cape Town Parallel
We’ve felt it here too. Cape Town is no stranger to the conversation. With a growing number of properties turned into Airbnbs and short-term lets, the knock-on effect for locals (particularly those trying to live, rent, or buy in the city centre) is real. Prices shift. Neighbourhoods change.
And what was once just a home now becomes a photo backdrop – a façade for content. It’s something we see daily in Bo-Kaap and De Waterkant, where full-blown influencer shoots unfold outside front doors. It’s not just an invasion of privacy – it’s extractive. They come for the colour and the content, but rarely stay for a coffee, a meal, or any real contribution to the local economy.
(source)
A Local Perspective: Bo-Kaap and De Waterkant don’t exist just to colour your feed.
Every day, we see full-scale photo shoots happening outside our homes — tripods, wardrobe changes, teams of people. It’s a whole production. But when the cameras pack up, few stay for coffee. Fewer still support the neighbourhood, residents, artisans, stores and restaurants they’ve used as a backdrop.
This isn’t about gatekeeping. It’s about reciprocity. Beauty deserves respect – not just exposure.
Responsible Tourism: The Power of Off-Season
Let’s start here: travel out of peak. Not only is it kinder to a destination’s infrastructure, it often makes for a better experience. Fewer queues. More meaningful conversations. A dinner reservation that doesn’t require a six-week lead time.
Major metros like Rome, Florence, and Barcelona are exquisite in the off-season — cooler in temperature, slower in pace, and arguably more themselves. In late October or early March, you’re not contributing to the summer crush. You’re helping keep waiters, hoteliers, atrisans and gallery staff employed year-round. That matters.
Spend Intentionally
Where your money goes is just as important as when you go. Choose small, owner-run guesthouses over international chains. Eat at neighbourhood bistros, not just the ones with global hype. Book experiences with guides who live locally and share their culture — not recite a script written elsewhere. If you’re booking through a travel designer (and we hope you are), ask who benefits. Ask who’s behind the door. Ask whether your stay is leaving something behind that isn’t just waste.
Know Your Role
Tourism isn’t inherently harmful. But unchecked tourism is. And if we love these places as much as we say we do, then love looks like consideration. It looks like visiting with presence, not performance. Travel can still be joyous, spontaneous, wildly indulgent. But it can also be thoughtful. Grounded. Connected. And the two are not mutually exclusive.
We don’t need fewer travellers. We just need more conscious ones.
Yours in travel and the pursuit of the extraordinary,
(Ps. We have more views on ethical travel, fragile places, and doing good – you can find them here.)
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