There are those who roll their eyes at the word woke, and others who delve deeper and recognise that it comes from a time in African-American politics, when people were being encouraged to wake up to racial prejudice and discrimination. Given that so many of us go travelling in order to wake up to what the world has to offer, rather than stick our heads in the sand (toes maybe), I proudly fly the flag for woke wanderlust. Because ultimately, being awake to the impact of tourism on the people who live in places we choose to visit, is a way to ensure that we’re not playing a part in unfair or unjust tourism.
Thinking local is not woke-al
By connecting with local people in a real, responsible way, and trying to understand issues that are impacting them, you gain a more insightful and empathetic travel experience. It’s worth reading up about the destination in advance of your travels to see if there are any political or cultural issues that are sensitive or worthy of more questioning while you’re there.
If you travel to Northern Ireland, for example, the 12th July fortnight is known as ‘marching season’ and is a controversial period when Unionists or ‘Orangemen’ mark the Battle of the Boyne. Historically it has been a time of conflict, but now it is more of a nuisance really as streets are closed, bonfires are lit and the atmosphere can be tense. There are many books on the subject and, in particular, on the years of conflict in Northern Ireland, so it’s well worth reading up in advance.
In Italy, and in Sicily in particular, visitors can cause offence by joking about the Mafia, or doing impressions of The Godfather, and yet it’s amazing how often this happens. The term Mafia refers to criminal organisations in Italy, and the war against these organisations is still ongoing in some parts of the country. Another example is in Kosovo, one of the most beautiful Balkan countries, where the subject of war and struggle for independence are still very sensitive areas. Or in Mallorca, where overtourism is a serious issue for many local people, and something I addressed in my blog about hiking there.
Give local people a break too
In places like these, we can’t just shut ourselves into gated communities and ignore the issues. We need to wake up to them and do our bit to create change. We cover many of these and other issues in the responsible tourism section of our destination pages and also in many of our Top tips blogs. They are a small reminder that, when we arrive in a country, local people are leading their everyday lives, trying to put bread on the table, have arguments with neighbours, have been kept up all night by babies, have illness concerns or employment instability worries. They are people with history and dramas, sometimes inherited trauma even, and so we need to give them a break when we are taking our much-needed break. And if that’s woke, then woe is me.
In addition, and as discussed in our blog, Why we talk about local people, not the locals, we highlight the fact local people shouldn’t be seen as an anonymous collective. By referring to people who live in a place as ‘the locals’ we alienate ourselves from reality and risk ignoring what might be real issues for people. They are residents, community members, parents, children, elders and, in many cases, protectors of the precious places we seek out for a dream holiday. And so a good starting point in awakening your wokeness is to put the word ‘people’ back in the picture.
People make the place
When I started writing about responsible travel for the international travel media, nearly two decades ago, I was told by several editors not to mention people in my travel features. “Readers only want to know about how beautiful a beach is, or how an experience will make them feel. Anecdotes about locals aren’t relevant.”, one editor said to me. Not only did I disagree, because it’s precisely interactions with local people that have always stayed in my memory bank from my travels, but I also made a point of always mentioning local people from that point onwards.
Some of my favourite people memories include being invited by a Berber guide to his wedding when I was hiking in the Atlas Mountains in Morocco, and on our walks we talked in detail about the celebrations and traditions that lay ahead for him. Or when a Cretan restaurant owner brought me and my children into his workshop to show us a room full of violins that he had crafted, and then played as one of my lads sang along. It was a quick segue from strings to weddings, as my children listened open-mouthed to tales of men firing endless rounds of ammunition into the air at their daughters’ marriages as a sign of prosperity and pride.
While hiking in the mountains of Mercantour National Park in France, I got chatting with a farmer on the trail who was just starting his journey of transhumance, bringing his sheep up to higher pastures for the summer. With the help of many gestures and my schoolgirl French, we chatted for about an hour about how climate change is affecting this age-old tradition and how he has to change the route followed by his family members for generations, because there just isn’t enough water on some higher ground anymore. And also not enough pasture, due to biodiversity changes. Having the privilege of hiking in his historic domain and learning about his concerns, wasn’t woke. It was a precious hour of winning at life.
When local landscapes become our playgrounds
It was only while hiking along the Sheep’s Head Way in Ireland, not long after it was founded in 1993, that I also woke up to the work that it takes to create a walking trail as exquisite as this one. It took years for the local community to pull this off as, one by one, they brought farmers on board, many of whom were very protective of their patch, to allow this sustainable tourism venture to happen. Chatting with local people in this way makes you think about just how delicate these issues are in many parts of the world. Where we have the privilege of having access to homelands where people have historically relished their privacy, or even feared an invasion of it. Many are now paid to maintain paths, such as on the Pembrokeshire Coast Path, but still there are conflicts between visitors and landowners on many walking trails, and often understandable ones. All that to say, these trails don’t happen overnight and so, when you walk past a farmer on a walking trail, it’s always worth giving them a salute-style wave, or just stopping to say hello, to show your gratitude.
Another fine example of this interaction with history and hiking is in the Zagori region of Greece. Here you’ll find a collection of 46 stone-built villages, many linked by traditional stone bridges which were built as human links across the canyons and rivers. These are now home to various walking trails through terrain that was awarded UNESCO Cultural Landscape status in 2023. Which, for a small remote region of northern Greece, is definitely winning at life, because it’s also sustaining the region through tourism for generations to come.
If taking time to understand what local people need and want from tourism is wokerie gone mad, then I’m here for it. If you’re here for it too, you may appreciate some of our other responsible tourism blogs. These include: Responsible communication while travelling; Don’t judge, join the responsible travel movement; Top tips for achieving mindfulness on your travels; and What we mean by slow travel. In addition, we also had the honour of hosting award-winning travel writer Duncan Craig from National Geographic Traveller recently on two of our holidays in Greece. From monks to olive farmers, people are at the heart of his writing, which you can read in these epic features on the Zagori and on the Meteora region.
For any information on trips mentioned above, or any of our natural adventures, please don’t hesitate to contact our woke-folk.
