Dear Travel Influencers (and Hollywood)—Stop Over Romanticizing “Paradise”
The weight of over-tourism stretches both locals and their surrounding environment to their limit.
I often imagine what travel was like before smartphones, GPS, and social media that forever altered the way we explore the world. Before destinations were digitally mapped on Google, word of mouth was the only guide leading travelers to different corners of the earth. I caught a glimpse of what this world looked like through tableside chats with seasoned travelers who’ve been walking these paths since the 80s. Their sentiments are all the same—few roads, no electricity, only local people, and an abundance of wildlife.
But I was born too late. The road less traveled is now well-trodden and eroded by tourism, and all of whom are hoping to snap a pic in the most Instagramable destinations. The post-WWII economy boom may have kickstarted modern environmental degradation, but the “Digital Age” has accelerated it exponentially. And while travelers seek out their next hotspot, trends such as Hollywood’s “White Lotus effect” helps them find it. Films and TV have rebranded entire villages and ecosystems into “luxury destinations” for the wealthy tourist while locals serve only as the backdrop—and workforce—for their gluttonous escapades. And for what?
Like many, my appetite for wild jungles, lush landscapes, and crystalline beaches was spoon fed by David Attenborough's Our Planet. I wanted to escape the matrix of the Western world, so I drifted from place to place, season to season. But in my decade-long travel, I’ve seen how tourism can transform the face of the planet. A once sleepy town becomes a social media hotspot within a few years, and the cost can be devastating. Public infrastructure (especially waste management) struggles to keep up, locals are often displaced, and the already scarce resources, like fresh water, are being stretched thin to accommodate tourism.
It’s happening everywhere—from Mexico to Viet Nam. This pattern is common throughout the Global South, where many countries exploited for their natural resources and strategic locations during colonial rule, are now facing the impacts of over-tourism for those very same reasons.
Maya Bay Beach, located in the Thai Province of Krabi, is a primary example. The 2000 film The Beach, adapted from Alex Garland’s novel, depicted this bay as a hidden paradise, a modern-day Eden. Though the bay was popular among locals well before the film was adapted, it became overrun with tourists and dubbed by CNN as—the beach that was loved to death.
The bay has sustained extensive environmental damage in recent years as a result of tourism, often receiving up to 5,000 tourists and 200 boats per day. When marine biologist Dr. Thon Thamrongnawasawat first surveyed the coral reef in Maya Bay 30 years ago, 70–80% of it was intact. By 2018, less than 8% remained.
After years of abhorrent tourism, the Thai Government had no choice but to close the bay to tourism in 2018 for nearly two years, and again in 2024. This was a commendable attempt to give the ecosystem a chance at rehabilitation while rethinking the impact tourism had on the local economy—both good and the bad.
When the beach reopened in 2022, it came with stringent environmental regulations:
No collecting coral, sea fans, shells, or marine animals
No sunscreens containing harmful chemicals
No foam containers or littering
No feeding fish
No unauthorized drone use
No anchoring in coral areas
No swimming in Maya Bay
Boats must dock at Loh Sama Bay pier and follow strict guidelines
The results of the closure were almost immediate.
"When we closed the bay, after only three months, the blacktip sharks came back. They kept mating, some gave birth... the ecosystem is recovering," Dr. Thon reported to CNN.
But this isn’t just happening in Maya Bay. Thai islands like Koh Samui (made even more famous by HBO’s Season 3 of The White Lotus) are facing the same ordeal.
“Since tourism rapidly developed without proper infrastructure planning and environmental management, Samui is facing critical problems in terms of waste management and water resources,” said Kannapa Pongponrat, a professor at Thailand’s Thammasat University, in an interview with Grist.
Even locals and tourists refer to my winter home—a small Thai island which shall not be named—as “the last Thai paradise”. Many fear that in a year or so, it will become overrun like Koh Phangan, Koh Samui, Maya Bay, and so many others. And while there’s more to the story, I think it’s worth asking travel influencers and Hollywood to please stop over romanticizing this idea of “paradise”. By encouraging the rapid influx of people visiting these destinations, you’re contributing to the destruction of vital and delicate ecosystems.
Glorifying travel in a way that strips destinations of what makes them unique comes at the expense of locals and the environment. These destinations have the right to grow and modernize on their own terms, just like the rest of the world. But the curated versions of paradise being sold by influencers and media outlets are neither realistic nor sustainable for anyone.
And an important reminder to tourists & travelers—the Global South is not “for sale,” this land isn’t yours to claim, and the culture isn’t yours to steal.
And no, we don’t need to stop traveling—but we do need to be more responsible travelers. We can support local economies without overloading them with tourism and our “way of life”—fancy over-priced bakeries, exclusive yoga classes, luxury resorts, and even our languages.
Traveling responsibly boils down to traveling with respect. Without it, we are no better than our colonial ancestors.
Suggested Reading:
Beyond Guilt Trips: Mindful Travel in an Unequal World by Anu Taranath, for insights on how to become a more mindful traveler, without the guilt trip.
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