I have just returned from four days of tourism meetings that were held in Marrakech. 287 exhibitors set up their stands and received, over the course of three days, close to 300 buyers in a series of 48 meetings. Exhibitors may own or represent a lodge or a small yacht, operate as a destination management company handling incoming travelers to their country, or design interesting guided activities in a remote location. Buyers could be agents like me or the head of a travel department for a non-profit, museum or university.
Two of the organizing parameters were a focus on the high end of the traveling market and on adventure, or rural, rather than urban travel.
The meetings were fun and inspiring, and the camaraderie was up-lifting. We are like an orchestra playing a music together we appreciate, while we passionately pursue musical styles in our own, individual way. We are a nice bunch and we are, for the most part, extremely generous with each other.
But we are, perhaps like most collectivities, a bit slow to innovate and a bit fast to latch on to concepts and language that, quickly,become stale and tired and, worse, carry the burden of being politically correct.
Language is a most amazing tool, capable of elucidating, obfuscating,altering and clouding meaning. Buzzwords have always been a part of the travel industry for, as a marketing strategy, writers need to latch on to concepts to help define the state of the present and the promise of the future. “Luxury” held sway for a number of years and much ink was spilled on defining the term. With the crash of 2008, luxury, as it had been widely defined (600 thread count sheets, personal butlers, plunge pools), became taboo. Trying to make the best of a bad situation, the travel watchers tried to stay on the upside of the downside and predicted that what the traveling public wanted now was“Experience” and “Authenticity.” That travelers were now more interested in “heart ware than hardware” became the catchy phrase often repeated in the press. While I believe that the new language does reflect a public consciousness that is more prevalent and more widely articulated than before, the problem, as I see it, is that by making such a big deal of “experience” and “authenticity”, the sellers of travel are simply placing themselves in a new box that is as specious as the old one that sold luxury. When you name a thing you change it irrevocably. When you have to point out that something is an “authentic experience” you have already made it self-conscious and other; you have intruded on the intimacy and the spontaneity that makes it truly magical.
When my father-in-law, Lars Lindblad, pioneered adventure travel back in the 1960s, he never worried about the authenticity of experience; he simply made great travel. And beyond offering culturally and environmentally sensitive travel, he took courageous ethical positions. Lars Lindblad had guts, intelligence and creativity. He didn’t like boxes and he did everything in his power to stay out of one. I wish for him in times like these when, like his favorite bird, the albatross, he could show us a new direction by taking to the thermals and flying above the crowd.