How to Travel Sustainably?
I have been wrestling with this question from different angles for quite some time. If we open almost any website about sustainable tourism, we quickly come across lists that, sometimes more kindly and sometimes less so, remind us tourists how to become model visitors.
I remember my father-in-law telling me that his grandfather used to spit on the ground, until the younger generation started telling him that this was no longer acceptable. Spittoons were introduced to teach people better manners. Times changed, and spitting became socially unacceptable. Meanwhile, throwing cigarette butts on the ground flourished. It took another generation or two before that, too, became unacceptable to us.
Something similar happened with plastic bottles. Our ancestors poured themselves a glass of water when they were thirsty, and when travelling, a friendly waiter would serve it to them. When we were students, we strapped backpacks to our shoulders and became travellers, and somehow drinking water became a much bigger issue. Articles began appearing, warning us that if we did not drink at least two litres of water a day, we were in for trouble. Bottled water conveniently solved the problem, and we bought it everywhere we went — cold or, well, warm.
Of course, it was important to inspect the cap carefully to make sure some enterprising local vendor had not slipped us water straight from the tap. Then the world turned once again, and plastic bottles began piling up in exactly the places where we did not want them. They peeked out from bushes, floated in crystal-clear seas and spoiled many a view from a hotel room.
It was still fairly easy for a traveller to turn away, mutter something about poor waste management and throw the bottle into the nearest bin, or simply leave it behind in the hotel room. When the traveller leaves, the bottle stays in the destination, ready to annoy the next visitor one way or another.
And the circle is complete.
Tourism professionals, destination managers and local activists quickly declared war on us and started teaching us that this was not OK and that we needed to change our habits. Just as spitting on the ground eventually became unacceptable, throwing away single-use plastic bottles is no longer “cool” today.
The business sector spotted a new opportunity, and suddenly there was hardly an event where you did not receive a handy reusable “bottle” as a gift, decorated with some lofty message. They became almost a status symbol for those of us who are environmentally aware and care about the planet. We faithfully carry them around, proudly refill them whenever we get the chance and, more than anything, appreciate that fresh, local drinking water flowing straight from the tap.
Even paying a waiter for serving us tap water has become understandable and acceptable.
Does that make us more sustainable? Are we travelling as sustainable travellers?
Unfortunately, it is not that simple.
I cannot shake the thought that the same patterns keep repeating themselves. We develop a new habit which, in the name of progress and convenience, replaces an older one that may indeed have been less practical but, as it later turns out, was often kinder to the planet.
And then we take the long way “around our backside only to end up in the same pocket”, leaving behind us a trail of bad decisions whose consequences appeared exactly where we least expected them.
“Whichever way you turn, your backside is still behind you,” my grandmother always used to say.
Unfortunately, sustainable solutions have the same problem.
So what are we supposed to do? We can raise our battle flags and declare war on badly behaved tourists, wag our fingers at them, look over their shoulders and appeal to their guilty consciences as they finally board their planes. The very planes that will take them to the places we invited them to.
Places where they will be welcomed by pristine nature, authentic local cultural adventures, endlessly smiling and friendly locals, tourism professionals who anticipate their every wish, delicious traditional food with a modern twist and, above all, happiness and the fulfilment of dreams they spent the long winter dreaming about from their cubicles in some endless office.
I do not know how successful we will be if, once they finally land in their dream destination, we thrust mirrors into their hands and start explaining how we would like them to behave, how they should spend their holiday, what we consider acceptable and what we do not.
Let’s be realistic. They are not interested.
If they have not already adopted sustainability values at home, they certainly will not do so while on holiday. If, after a hot day, they want to return to a cool room where they can collapse onto the sofa and enjoy a refreshing drink, they will happily leave the air conditioning running all day and open a bottle of water from the minibar without a second thought.
If we make it possible for them to do so.
They are on holiday. They get enough finger-wagging, educating and adapting at home. They do not want it on holiday. On holiday, everything is allowed.
“I paid good money — money I worked hard for — for the freedom not to care. Leave me alone. I want to be happy. It is not my job to make your destination sustainable. It is your destination. I brought you my hard-earned money so that you can do things properly. Use it wisely and do not shift the responsibility onto me.”
Of course, it is not that simple and, as with most things, the truth lies somewhere in the middle. It is up to all of us to sweep in front of our own door before pointing fingers at others. And yet. I cannot shake the feeling that I partly agree with the tourist who does not want to read our instructions about how to be a sustainable and responsible tourist.
Why does the tourist have to be responsible enough to decide: “Please don’t change my bed linen today,” while the provider asks them: “Please be responsible and save water, because we are short of it in summer.”
Why does the provider not simply make that decision on the tourist’s behalf and say: “Because we are responsible and conserve water, we change bed linen every three days.”
Perhaps the solution really is to turn the whole paradigm slightly on its head. To make unsustainable behaviour more difficult than sustainable behaviour, and to reshape hospitality in a more sustainable way. Without making the tourist experience “suffer”, and without first having to educate and raise the awareness of all the people we want to attract.
That really does sound like a Sisyphean task.
And perhaps that is the answer to the question of how to travel more sustainably. Simply choose destinations and providers that have already done their part and designed their offer to be more sustainable.
That means we should have to make an effort if we want to be the “naughty ones” and travel unsustainably, rather than having to make an effort to be “good” and travel sustainably. Sustainable choices should simply become easier and should not require a conscious decision or any particular level of awareness on our part.
Yes, I know. This sustainable solution also has “its backside behind it”, and it too stays true to the tradition that the biggest burden of every sustainable solution is putting it into practice.
