Congratulations, it’s my 20th Travel Anniversary!   In 2025, I set out on a 12 month, solo, round-the-world adventure to run away from adulthood and search for adventure.  So many crazy things happened during that one amazing year, recorded in a long-form now defunct blog called Modern Gonzo, that I got a tattoo on my leg to permanently remind myself it really happened.  The plan was to return to Vancouver and get a job doing…something.  Sometimes I’m asked where I think I’d be if that car hadn’t run me down that fateful day on Alberni Street, triggering into motion all the wild adventures that continue to follow.    It’s a silly exercise, wondering about the if onlys and the what ifs.   What if one of the bands I believed in more than anything hit the rockstar jackpot?   What if I wasn’t born in South Africa?  If only that show got picked up, that book got published, that project got greenlit, that first internet boom didn’t explode while I was right in the middle of it!  It’s easy to rationalize that things happen for a reason, and we humans are zen masters at it.   What’s that wisdom:  worrying about the past leads to nothing but misery, and worrying about the future leads to nothing but anxiety.   Nonetheless, here in the now, I’m taking a moment to reflect on my journey from budget backpacker to TV personality to newspaper columnist to bestselling author to husband, father, landowner, speaker, travel expert, consultant, and however else you want to label me.  Actually, it’s a little overwhelming and probably best left to a book one day.  But it has triggered all sorts of nostalgia, although for some reason, my brain is casting for memories much further back than twenty years.  Let’s see where it takes us.

First Time in the Sky
 
My very first plane trip was recorded for national television news in South Africa.  SA Airways had a special promotion for people to fly for the first time, taking off from what was then Jan Smuts International Airport (now Oliver Tambo) for a half hour joyride over Johannesburg.   My parents booked us onto that flight.  I don’t know how they did it, or why, or how much it cost, but off we went to the airport to hit the skies, in a plane much like the one above, accompanied by an SABC TV news crew on the plane to capture a feel-good story at a time when South African media were prohibited from covering the actual news, that is, the protests against the apartheid regime.  I think I was 8 or 9 years old.   My parents had been overseas once, so they’d been on a plane before.  My older brother got the vox pop at the very end of the news segment, which we watched that evening abuzz with the flight and possibly more excited we might be on the news.  They interviewed the whole family I think, because I remember saying something to the camera.  But my older brother got his voice on national television, just a single line that I still recall.  He said: “It was very cool.”   He was always beating me at everything, my older brother, then as now. 

I Got Stoned in Mea Sharim
 
The next time we got on a plane was on an El Al flight to Tel Aviv.  Years ahead of the intergenerational travel trend, three generations of my family were booked onto a bus tour of Israel.  I think it was 1988.   My grandfather, Abie Esrock, always wore a bowtie, walked with a cane, spoke with a thick accent, and looked much older than he was due to a stroke.  My younger brother, who was 3 years old, threw up every day on the bus.  We were joined by a large contingent of South African families. The teens gathered into a crew, the little kids played together, and I was a tween awkwardly stuck in the middle, as tweens are wont to do.   I have some strong memories from that trip: the taste of the shawarma, hummus and eggplant; the typical Israeli breakfast, served each morning without the slightest touch of variation; the smell of pink Bazooka bubble gum; the T-shirts with funny catchphrases; the teenage girls on the bus with all their alluring mysteries.  We went to Masada and the Dead Sea, we went to Jerusalem and Haifa.  One day, a rock came flying through the bus window, landing close to my grandparents.  This was the start of the second intifada, and I don’t recall parents being particularly bothered by it all, because I wasn’t paying too much attention.  I’m sure the incident freaked them right out of their eyeballs, and the army showed up quickly.  I was probably listening to music on my blue Sony Walkman throughout the entire episode. Someone bought a T-shirt that said I got stoned in Mea Sharim.  Mea Sharim is an ultra-Orthodox Jewish neighbourhood known to be hostile, sometimes violently, towards modern visitors. I didn’t get the joke, because I was 13.   Ironically, I think we were close to Mea Sharim when technically, we did actually get stoned.

​Envy the youth for their ignorance
 
My family visited Israel again, when I was 15, and again when I was 17.   That’s how I can honestly claim to have visited Gaza, because my great-uncle, an Israeli pioneer, lived in the territory in a tiny Israeli settlement on a hill surrounded by three large Palestinian towns.  We were reassured that someone in the army swept the playground for bombs before our arrival.  We climbed up a water tower, and I remember looking at the Arab towns, which looked peaceful in the late afternoon sun.  I didn’t understand the politics back home in South Africa, much less Israel.   Envy the youth for their ignorance.

​Bloodsport with a Legend
 
It's interesting what you remember, years later, even when your head is saturated with several lifetimes of experience.  That same trip, my brother and I left the hotel in Tel Aviv one night to see a movie.  It was called Bloodsport, with a then-unknown Jean Claude Van Damme, and it was the coolest damn kung-fu chop-socky movie we had ever seen.  In the line-up outside the theatre, waiting with us to get tickets, was a tall, big, and handsome black American man.  He had a moustache and looked like a movie actor. I don’t know what he was doing in Israel, but we struck up a conversation with the guy.  I like to remember that he said he “fought in ‘Nam” but I might have adopted that memory from watching too many movies.  In my movie-infused memory, he also looked very much like the actor Jim Brown in the 1970s, or Bubba Smith, the former footballer who played Hightower in Police Academy.  Maybe it was.  Anyway, he asked us where we were from, and my brother looked at me and I looked at him and we both remember, to this day, being embarrassed to say we were South African. Because we knew what apartheid was, and we knew it was wrong, and it was embarrassing and shameful to present our white sorry asses to this tall, proud, black American man, the first black American we’d ever met.   But we didn’t fib, we told him we were visiting from Johannesburg, and to his credit, he didn’t shun or shame us. He just shrugged and continued the conversation. I think we sat next to him for the movie.  Man, did Bloodsport ever kick Chong-Li ass. I think we were high-fiving our new American friend at the end.  We did a lot in Israel that trip, but that’s the one moment I vividly recall the most.  The people you meet on a journey often leave the biggest impression. 

Inspiring Others to Inspire Others
 
This month I had the privilege to fly to the Mayan Riviera and address a conference room of travel agents and suppliers.  I was invited to give a keynote about the Power of Story to the lovely folks at The Travel Agent Next Door, a network of Canadian agents, gathered for their annual conference at the fantastic Iberostar Selection Paraíso Lindo along the Mayan Riviera.  Whoever designed this mega-resort is an artist, it’s absolutely gorgeous.   I had some wonderful conversations with agents from around the country, learned a few things, pondered the future of tourism, and sparked up various opportunities. My keynote clearly resonated because it got a standing ovation, which in the world of speaking is like a year-end, feel-good bonus.  I’ve mostly been doing smaller events of late and it felt good to be on a big stage with three jumbotrons, inspiring others to inspire others, making a positive difference at a time the world desperately needs some hope and positivity.  I encouraged everyone to take a media diet from the bad news, and also encouraged myself while doing so.  In a month of utter economic chaos caused by the will of a madman, this captivating hour on stage is the one moment I hope to remember. 

​This month I got a call from CBC Radio to talk about Canadian tourism on the national show, The Current.  Nothing particularly unusual there, I’ve spoken about Canadian tourism a dozen times on CBC Radio before, although this time I would be patching in from a remote forest in Puerto Rico.  There's always a compelling reason to have me on:  it might be early summer and everyone is planning their vacations,  or perhaps I have a new book out and want to promote it.  This time, it’s because Canadians are being encouraged to explore their own backyard at the expense of our southern neighbours.   

The reason for this is entirely political.  A new US administration wants to tariff Canadian products and flex its economic muscles to negotiate more favourable trade deals, to hell with the Canadian economy (and Canadians in general).  It's Big Guy Bulling Little Guy 101,  but this is not the space to get into politics or my thoughts about that guy. It is however a place to talk about tourism.  According to a recent report, if Canadians stop visiting the US, it could have as much as a $6 billion hit on the US economy.    That’s not peanuts, although given the size of the US economy, it’s not going to make much of a dent - or provide much negotiating leverage - either. This is assuming you can get every Canadian to stop travelling to the US, which you can’t. What it does do is hurt tourism on both sides of the border. With patriotic vitriol and retaliatory tariffs, Americans won’t visit their beautiful northern neighbour, and Canadians won’t feel compelled to go south.  This will hit tour operators, hotels, transportation companies, restaurants, and a lot of other ancillary businesses too.

For an industry that famously brings people together, tourism is now being positioned as an economic weapon, and one of the few Canada has when it comes to a much larger, richer and aggressive neighbour.  It’s just one example of the chaos and disorder that guy is sowing in this strange new world, where nobody can believe anything they see or hear, and all the hard work to become socially responsible, ethical and empathetic appears to have been tossed out a window.   It will, of course, all blow over, because it always does. In the meantime, more Canadians will choose to travel in Canada, which is never a bad thing, especially for Canada’s foremost bucket list travel expert!  I do have several upcoming US trips planned, and have no intention of cancelling, despite feeling some pressure from colleagues in the industry.  It’s been my experience that tourism people are open-minded, generous, informed, and believe in the benefits of welcoming people, in as opposed to shutting them out.  It’s not US tourism's fault, and I’m not going to punish them.  That said, apples for apples, if you have a choice between taking a Canadian or US vacation right now, until that guy quits threatening and mocking the sovereignty of its friendly normal neighbour, the choice for everyone north of the border should be obvious.  And with their exceptionally strong dollar, the choice for everyone south of the border should be obvious too. 
 

Upon my return from Puerto Rico, it was nice to be greeted with this physical award recognizing the quality and effort of my blog, www.canadianbucketlist.com.   A Lowell Thomas Gold Media Award is one of the most prestigious awards in my wild and crazy profession. As Aesop said: "Gratitude turns what we have into enough."

I heard a quote from someone, misquoted by someone else, which I will now misquote further: creative people need to be creating, otherwise they’re not breathing.  It is why musicians make music, painters make paintings and writers make words.  God help all of us trying to make a living doing it.
 
My act of creation is rather specific:  I travel and record my experiences in a positively authentic manner with the hopes I can inspire others to have these experiences too.   Every year begins with a fresh slate with very little idea where I will end up, and what I will do when I get there.  Each December, I look back on the year with a sense of bewilderment that can I assure you, never grows old.   Did I really get the opportunity to go there, and to do that?    Looking back on 2024, here’s a round-up of what I mean:

​January:  A Theme in Orlando
 
Can you take the kids to the theme-park capital of the world and not visit the theme parks?    This was my idea for a story, and it almost worked.  Under stormy skies, we air-boated in the everglades, took on obstacle, aquatic and rope courses, illusion museums, and graceful manatees floating in crystal streams.  But I’m not a monster, so the kids did get to enjoy Legoland (before they grow out of it) and Sea World’s Discovery Cove too.    After Orlando, we headed south to Delray Beach for a long overdue family reunion 30 years in the making. This combination, of busy activities with personal reconnections, kicked off another remarkable year on the bucket list.

February:  Showing off on the Slopes
 
Every winter I like to profile a different ski destination.  It’s usually the only time my family gets on skis, but slopes are only one aspect of any ski resort.  This year we drove up from Vancouver to SilverStar Mountain Resort, discovering a compact, family-friendly resort with beautiful hills and a lot of fun off it.  SilverStar had the best tubes runs I’ve ever seen, and the kids had way too much fun on the mini-sleds.  My story took shape thanks to my sister and brother in-law joining us from New York.  Who knew there was an authentic Austrian restaurant – shipped from Austria itself - in the hills of the Okanagan?  Canada is always underestimated by visitors, and always overdelivers.  SilverStar and Vernon proved to be yet another perfect example of this phenomenon.   

March:  Between Belize and a Barrier Reef
 
After conquering the skeleton at the Whistler Bobsleigh Centre and learning all about the non-alcoholic beverage trend, my daughter and I flew to Central America to climb Mayan jungle temples, eat ceviche, and float underwater.  For I wondered: can a 10-year-old go scuba diving?  The answer is yes, especially a 10-year-old like my daughter.  With the help of PADI and a wonderful instructor at Ocean Quest Dive Centre, Raquel took her online courses and pool classes in Vancouver, completing her Junior Open Water Certification in Belize’s San Pedro. Adults struggle with the tests and it wasn’t easy, but watching her resilience to overcome the fear and challenges gave me pure nachas. This is a Yiddish word you’ll have to Google.  Exploring the world’s second largest barrier reef with her, underwater and from above with a snorkel, meant more than one thousand Taylor Swift concerts.   Enya slays in my video, but Raquel as always owns the show.  
​

April:  Vacations vs Adventures in Mexico
 
I don’t begrudge anyone who chooses a flop-n-drop vacation, especially with kids.  Others, like myself, are just wired differently and prefer an adventure.  With the family in tow, we headed to Puerto Vallarta in Mexico to see if it’s possible to combine an adventure and vacation.  You can read my story here, or watch the dreamy video that makes me appreciate that trip more with every viewing.  Back in beautiful British Columbia, the legendary Ange Chew backed up her claims that Surrey – soon to be the largest city in the province – has an incredible culinary scene with a Spice Trail worth salivating over.   

May:  What the hell am I doing, speeding in LA?
 
IPW is a massive annual US tourism expo, where states and companies one-up each other for trade and media attention.  Host city Los Angeles pulled out all the stops, including shutting down Universal Studios for a private party, and throwing an opening bash at the historic LA Coliseum (which will host another Olympic Games in 2028).  Always chasing a bucket list experience, I hopped in three Porsche models to see what these babies can do around a special-built race, sliding, and 4x4 track.  Back home, I volunteered at the Courage to Come Back Awards, which raised $1.7m for the Coast Mental Health Foundation, and then headed to Medicine Hat for an inspiring talk to a wonderful community.  After years chasing the northern lights in the Arctic, a powerful solar storm brought them south, lighting up the skies of Vancouver in greens and reds on a beautiful and clear spring night. 
​

June:  Sunsets in Botswana (and Johannesburg too)
 
I’ve always wanted to visit Botswana’s Chobe National Park and Okavango Delta. It has also been 14 years since my last visit to Johannesburg, where I was born and raised.  Welcome to June.  Catching up with my old friends and driving around Jo’burg for a few days was as comforting as a weighted blanket. A lot has changed, but some things haven’t changed at all.   Botswana easily lived up to its reputation as a Bucket List safari destination for people who love safaris.  Desert and Delta Safaris have incredible camps throughout the country, with a literal view of unforgettable wildlife experiences.  In a year of highlights, June proved hard to beat.  Cherry on the top: while on safari I learned that my story about visiting Churchill with my son took First Place in the Family Travel category at the Travel Media Association of Canada annual conference. 

July:  Biking Vancouver Island, the Stampede and Roadsurfing to Waterton
 
For the third year in a row, I joined a group of motorbike riders for a road trip, renting a Harley Davidson from Eaglerider in Vancouver.  We travel far and light, and there’s something about the open road, the fresh air, and the camaraderie that makes these trips particularly special.  Swapping my Street Glide for a different mode of transport, the family joined me on a memorable trip to Alberta, first to the Calgary Stampede, and then in a roadsurfer rental RV for a roadtrip to stunning Waterton National Park in the Rockies.  Meanwhile, a fully revised and beautiful second edition of The Great Western Canada Bucket List hit the shelves nationwide.  It was too late to squeeze in Waterton, but it easily makes its way in the third edition of The Great Canadian Bucket List, coming fall 2025.
​

August:  Go east, young man
 
I love multi-generational travel. You experience a destination through different eyes, and the bonding is priceless.  Together with my mom and son, we headed to Prince Edward Island and New Brunswick for a road trip to natural landmarks, beautiful red-sandy beaches, green gables, lovely little towns, the Bay of Fundy, and fuzzy goats on a boat. Over two weeks we packed in a lot, covering Fredericton, Moncton, St Andrews, Saint John, King’s Landing, and so much ground (and history) in New Brunswick.   Returning home, I joined some friends for a milestone adventure in the backcountry: a week-long rafting trip down Idaho’s Salmon River.  That story is coming up next year in The Globe and Mail, and it was a metaphorical bullseye for the idea that life is but an adventure, flowing in one direction, never looking back.  
​

September:  Waltzing down the Danube
 
My poor, beautiful wife.  Here I am, travelling the world, stealing the kids for one adventure after another, while she stays at home contributing to the community.  Hoping to remind her who I am, we left the kids behind for a romantic river cruise down the Danube, hopping aboard the Viking Jaal in Regensburg, Germany and disembarking a week later in Budapest.  The weather was moody (the Danube flooded the day we left for home) but there was so much to keep us busy between the historic towns, grand museums of Vienna, the incredible food, and a lovely boat with fun and gracious company. 

October:  Amalfi lemons don’t need lemonade
 
Returning to Europe, my daughter joined me for our first Exodus Family Travel Adventure, exploring Italy’s stunning Amalfi Coast.  Exodus knows exactly how to keep kids and their parents engaged:  cooking pasta and pizza in an authentic Italian kitchen; hiking the most scenic sections of the Path of the Gods; making paper with medieval tools; painting traditional ceramics; lemon gelato; kayaking the terraced coastline; exploring ocean caves and wandering about the remarkable ruins of Pompeii.   All of this a fun first for everyone, and another gorgeous highlight in a year full of them.  Amalfi was a memorable location to celebrate my 50th birthday too, and we snuck in a quick visit to Paris too!

November: Travel is a Gift
 
You’ll have to excuse me, I’m not at my best, I’ve been gone for a month...” The classic hit by Spirit of the West has always captured the exhaustion of travel, so I took it easy this month, dreaming up big adventures for 2025.  I did jet to Cambridge, Ontario for an inspiring talk for the lovely folks at MD Financial.  I checked in with the folks at the Saintlo Jail Hostel in Ottawa, and worked on a new edition of my annual Bucket List Gift Guide, which I’ve now ported over to my column at Canadian Geographic.  
 
Another unexpected gift: I won a prestigious Lowell Thomas Gold Medal Award from the Society of American Travel Writers, where an impartial panel of judges chose my Canadian Bucket List blog as the best blog on the continent.  This shocked me as much as anyone.  After almost two decades of working away in the shadows, receiving two top awards (and being nominated late last year as the Tourism Industry of Canada’s Travel Media Professional of the Year) is welcome validation from my peers for all the hard work. Remember, success is an iceberg: you see 10% of it shining under the sun, but 90% of the effort, failure, frustration, desperation, disappointment, sacrifice and discipline lies below the water. 

December: Around the Corner
 
So here we are, wrapping up my 19th year as a travel writer with another unexpected and extraordinary year.  There are still a few stories to come, but I’m looking forward to the future in what I hope (although can never guarantee) will be another magical year. It’s been almost twenty years since I set out to see the world as a budget backpacker. So much has changed personally, globally, technically, politically, economically too.   The mission has stayed the same:  channel my energy and talent where it has a positive impact on the lives of others, while at the same time enjoying the juiciest fruits life has to offer.   Coming up: kayaking the bioluminescent bays of Puerto Rico; a snowmobiling adventure in northern Ontario, skiing in Colorado, visiting ancient ruins in Egypt, exploring the French countryside on a small river boat, hopefully riding Route 66, and taking my daughter on the Inca Trail in Peru. 
 
One of the hallmarks of finding happiness is having something to look forward to.  Regardless of what’s happening in the world, I hope you too have the good fortune and opportunity to see joy in the possibilities.

 - Robin

The idea was simple, if a little ambitious.  I’d been asked to write a guidebook in the age of Google, TripAdvisor and Expedia, which seemed like being asked to sell typewriters when everyone is buying computers.  I took the book deal and focused on storytelling in print, but recognized that information is the flip side of inspiration, and a companion website and blog would provide enormous value for readers.   For starters, they could easily access destination and tour operator links, original or curated video, galleries, reading guides, fantastic products, and tips that didn’t make the print chapter.   I could also interact with my audience, receiving suggestions and offering advice.   Outside the limitations of a long print cycle, I also could add new experiences to the blog, which in turn could feed future book editions.
 
Canadianbucketlist.com launched with the first edition of my book, The Great Canadian Bucket List, in 2013.  Thanks to a fantastic prize from VIA Rail and Fairmont Hotels, it quickly attracted thousands of subscribers.  My publisher was a little concerned the website would cannibalize book sales, but we quickly learned that essay-length stories and short snippets of online information didn’t conflict at all.  In fact, only 1 in 5 readers registered on the website, the rest arrived organically from people around Canada and the world searching for unique experiences in the country.  They'd learn about the book, and a positive feedback loop was the result.

Over the years, the smash bestselling Great Canadian Bucket List has been through a half dozen different editions. It's been updated, re-designed, focused on regions, and continues to sell well. Earlier this year Dundurn Press published the second edition of The Great Western Canada Bucket List, and next year will see the third edition of The Great Canadian Bucket List.   The website, meanwhile, went through a complete overhaul during the pandemic (I had to do something stuck at home).  Today it looks better and is easier to use, all the content is unlocked, and ads help me cover the costs.
 
Each month I continue to update the blog with new experiences, commentary, travel tips, gift guides, and news from my world.  I never understood the world of SEO, which left money on the table but kept my content authentic and real.  Hi, this is Robin.  Not an AI, not an algorithm, not a bot...just a guy with the good fortune to see and share the remarkable country I live in.

​This month, at a prestigious event in Istanbul, canadianbucketlist.com won the Lowell Thomas Gold Medal for Best Blog.  Awarded by the Society of American Travel Writers, the Lowell Thomas Awards are the Oscars of travel journalism in North America.   For 40 years, they has been awarded across multiple categories to the best writers, photographers, broadcasters and producers in the world of travel media.    To quote the SATW website:  “[The Lowell Thomas Award] is the premier competition in North America in the field of travel journalism. It has gained its stature for several reasons, most notably: it does not promote any particular destination or travel product; it does not have any membership requirements for journalists to enter; it is judged independently by the faculty at a top U.S. school of journalism.  This year, judging was overseen by the University of Missouri School of Journalism with Emeritus Prof. John Fennell and Prof. Jennifer Rowe coordinating 25 judges and 1,430 entries.

I had entered several writing awards, because I’m a writer and occasionally that’s what we do, especially when you work alone in a bubble with little validation.   I entered this blog as an afterthought, but sometimes, years of hard work can sneak up on you and pay off. 

I'm deeply humbled by the recognition, and congratulate all award winners and nominees.  I’d also like to give a shout-out to my hardworking, inspirational colleagues in travel media who somehow make it work in this bizarro industry we call home.   It's difficult to see on the outside, but we make many sacrifices - personal and financial - to have this dream job. And my gratitude to you, the nameless anonymous visitor, for clicking on a link, spending some time with me on this site, and reading this far.  Rest assured; my award speech would have been much more impressive in person.
 

I’ve long said that people are everything when it comes to great travel.  I coined “the people we meet create the paradise we find” back in 2005, spoke about it in my TEDx talk, and continue to believe it now more than ever.    

In December, I saw out the year with some memorable adventure:  I travelled with my daughter to Costa Rica for a fantastic story about family legacies, and my kids (plus a niece) on a road trip down the Oregon Coast for a story that turned lemons to lemonade, and heavy rain into rugged Pacific storm-watching!  I kicked off the new year taking the kids to Orlando – my first foray into the Sunshine State – and then headed to New York for IMM, the premier international travel media marketplace.  With a general atmosphere of uncertainty (here’s looking at you, US and Canadian Elections) it’s shaping up to be that kind of year:  this feeling of wanting to go everywhere and do everything while there’s still an opportunity to do so.  The trip this month I was looking forward to most in January was unusually personal, and it’s all about people, of course.
 
I grew up in a tight family in South Africa, gathering every Friday night for family dinners that included my grandparents, aunt, uncle and cousins.   It’s a tradition my own family continues to follow, and my kids thankfully have the same experience in Canada.  Like seeds from a dandelion, my extended family scattered about the globe, and we had not been in the same room for a staggering 27 years.   In that time, close family members were sadly lost, but we were joined by new spouses, kids and grandkids.  Having relocated to Delray Beach, Florida, my aunt now lives with her daughter (my sister-cousin) and grand-daughter, three generations of strong, beautiful women I have missed dearly.  With my aunt turning a sprightly 80, the opportunity presented itself for the family to finally gather from three continents for a long overdue reunion that would celebrate the past, and relish the present. 
 
After an exhausting schedule in Orlando, my kids and I took the spotless Brightline train to Boca Raton, where the kids would meet their great aunt and extended family members for the first time.  My own family flew in from Vancouver, and we rented a house on Air Bnb just a few minutes’ walk from my aunt.  Unseasonal (and unreasonably cool) weather be damned, the atmosphere was immaculately joyous.  It’s one of the reasons why I encourage everyone to travel into their past, seeking out long lost relatives and newfound family histories.  It all becomes a deeply personal layer of discovery that instantly elevates any journey into so much more.   

I can't say I explored much of Delray Beach – an affluent coastal community – other than a lovely long lunch at a beachfront restaurant and a decent walk alongside strip malls, expensive cars, ocean canals and enormous mansions home to the mega rich. While my own family lives far more modestly, the obvious and ostentatious wealth was unavoidable (I heard Lamborghini made SUV’s, I didn’t expect to see four in a single afternoon!). In truth, we could have been anywhere and it would have hardly mattered. 

Over a long weekend, my family gathered for every delicious meal, the conversation was effortless, the kids got on famously, and the years simply vanished.  All of it a powerful reminder that the very best destinations don’t have to offer much, just the very best people to share it with.

​Wrapping up 2023, tourism is rebounding faster from the pandemic than most of us predicted.    We weren’t’ supposed to see industry numbers like this until 2024 or even 2025, but the world has collectively decided to move on as if Covid never happened, and tourism has reflected this accordingly.   Everything has definitely become more expensive, sometimes because of supply-chain issues, sometimes because it’s an opportunity for folks to maximize profits and take advantage of others.  This is true for the tourism industry, and true for everything else too. 
 
This year I really got stuck into my bi-weekly column for Canadian Geographic, chasing stories that are inspirational, worth knowing, and unique.   It’s the cornerstone of my Bucket List brand:  exploring destinations and activities that you can’t find anywhere else; are wholly memorable; practically attainable; and will make a great story you’ll want to share for the rest of your days.   

​I kicked off 2023 with a New Year’s Eve torchlight descent at Sun Peaks Resort in British Columbia.  After many years of snowboarding, I’m now transitioning to skis, and it was a fantastic confidence booster (and a little terrifying) to ski at night.    A few weeks later I found myself on BC’s Powder Highway, back on skis in Fernie, Kimberly and at the Panorama Mountain Resort.  I explored quirky roadside attractions in New Brunswick, unique statues around the world, high-speed F1 yacht racing in San Francisco, and the origins of craft beer in the Pacific Northwest.   Sometimes the story is about people too, like the Syrian refuges in Nova Scotia and their phenomenally successful chocolate business, or Scuba Diving Hall of Famer and cave diving legend Jill Heinerth. 

​The best travel is about the experiences you share, whether it means taking your kids medieval glamping in Alberta, or a parent on a bucket list hike in Newfoundland.  Sometimes family travel lies on a spectrum between beluga whales in the north, the jungle in the south, and iconic theme-parks (I’m proud of this particularly honest review of Disneyland.) 

​I’m always on the lookout for unusual and memorable accommodation, from the world’s most northerly eco-lodge to surviving a night in Quebec City’s ice hotel.  As for wildlife, I  attempted to cage dive with saltwater crocodiles in Australia, hit the prairies to see the world’s largest concentration of snakes, and looked at places near and far to ethically volunteer with animals.  The two back-to-back horse-riding expeditions I took to the Allenby Pass in Banff National Park showcased the Rockies at their finest, and was my inspiring debut as a Can Geo Adventures Travel Ambassador.   Learning more about Indigenous experiences across the country shepherded me to prairies campfires and other inspiring locations around the country.   Further afield, I researched upcoming stories about the Rio de Janeiro Carnaval in Brazil, a sustainable eco-lodge in Costa, and exploring French Polynesia with a small-ship Wind Star cruise. 

​I write a monthly blog for Great Canadian Trails too, where this year you can find stories about mountains, forests, whales and icebergs, cross-country skiing and great Canadian books.  I celebrated Yukon for the territory’s 125th anniversary, took a curious look at Prince Edward Island, a ride along the beautiful Kettle Valley Heritage Trail, and explored Canadian wonders that double as international look-a-likes.

As heartbreaking images and stories are being shared by friends of and in Israel, I am compelled to say something, in particular to my non-Jewish friends. In particular to those who don’t know too much about the history of the region.

People in Gaza desperately needed a Nelson Mandela. Someone who believed in a future, someone who was incorruptible. They initially voted for and have since been autocratically ruled by Hamas, an organization with an extreme ideology and official mandate to "obliterate Israel."    Nelson Mandela didn't have to deal with religious fanatics, but still.  

Israel is the only Middle Eastern country that supports free press, freedom of religion, the right to protest, LGBTQ+, full political representation for its Jewish and Arab citizens, and other rights familiar to those who live in a western democracy. That seems to get lost on a lot of people. LGBTQ protests in support of Palestine is like watching chickens marching for KFC.

Israel also has its own share of corrupt politicians and religious extremists, and it is far from perfect. But name another democratic country that has been at war since its inception, subject to suicide bombings and indiscriminate missile attacks. Name another democratic country repeatedly demonized, de-legitimized and condemned by double-standards in the UN. Name another democratic country with genocide hanging over its head, in the past, and in the future. There isn't one, and if there was, it wouldn't be perfect either.

Most of Israel's diverse population are descendants of victims from another mandate that called for genocide. Jews the world over have learned, to our horror, that attacks on our people and homes are not isolated incidents. We know where it can lead, and we know that all racism is cut from the same fabric.

There is simply no excuse for the Hamas attack. Blaming Israel in any way is victim-shaming at best, antisemitic at worst. Innocent people in Israel did not 'deserve' this anymore than a victim of rape or violent crime 'deserves' it.  On that topic,  it's worth pointing out that the popularity of the BDS/anti-Zionism movement is rooted in antisemitism (and if you follow the money largely funded by Iran).  Student groups are oddly quiet about Iran, you know, that country that massacres its citizens at protests and beats women to death for not following Sharia Law.  Venom appears strictly reserved for those  damn free-thinking Israelis and their progressive trance music.

Zionism, you should know, refers to the right of all Jews to have a homeland they can be safe in.   Condemning Zionism does not condemn Israeli leadership (who many Jews disagree with). It condemns all Jews, everywhere.  Iran and Hamas are proudly and rabidly anti-Zionist.  They don’t fight for a new Jewish leadership that will commit and compromise for a peaceful resolution.  They fight so that there will be no Jews.  Period.  

Meanwhile, calling Israel an Apartheid state is insulting to all South Africans. I know, I am one, and lived through it.  It's even more insulting to people of colour who suffered during Apartheid.  Why?  Consider:  Arabs in Israels can vote, run political parties, own businesses, sit on the Supreme Court, work across all industries, marry whomever they want, and travel freely throughout the country.  Arabs in Gaza who are vocally committed to Israel’s destruction face restrictions, because, I repeat, they are vocally committed to Israel’s destruction.  Did you forget the suicide bombers that killed children, women and elderly on buses in Tel Aviv?   Do you see what happens what happens if Israel doesn't take security seriously? 

Even so, Israeli businesses offer gainful employment, non-discrimination, and hope to both Jews and Arabs.  To those who disagree with me, I invite you to actually visit Israel, and to speak to Israeli Arabs.  Ask them if they feel like second-class citizens.   Then read up about the horrors of Apartheid, and while you’re at it, who funds and promotes the BDS movement.  Then ask yourself: can people who are indigenous to a land actually colonize it?   Jews have been living in this region for thousands of years, they didn’t just arrive on boats from Europe and say, “we’ll take it!”  It’s hip to follow a campus cause, I get it.  It’s not hip to be an uninformed bigot.

BDS would very much like you to boycott all Israeli products, including Sodastream, an Israeli company.  Have you looked at a Soda Stream box?  It says:  “Made in Israel:  This product was made by Arabs and Jews working side by side in peaceful harmony.” Those protesting a cause they know nothing about would rather this not be the case.  They would rather Israeli businesses that employ Arabs and Palestinians shutter and lay everyone off.   Their misguided intentions would be ironic if it weren't so devastating.   I understand it’s fashionable to have a cause, although every single crime Israel has been accused of has also taken place in countries like China, Pakistan, the United States, Canada, Australia and many others.  Why go after Israel and only Israel?  Might it have something to do with, you know, the Jews?  

It is also important to stress that innocent people in Gaza do not deserve this either. They want to live in peace and watch their children succeed like the rest of us.  Yet what are we to make of Israeli corpses being dragged through the streets of Gaza, of Palestinians and those sympathetic to their cause celebrating this massacre around the world?   Can you imagine Israel using its women and children as human shields?  Can you imagine the Israeli Army raping and massacring young women at a Palestinian Peace Festival?  There is no moral equivalence between a brutal, authoritarian death cult and a democratic society.  Hamas not only kicked a tiger, they poked its eyes out and killed and kidnapped its babies.  Israel’s response has been brutal, as a tiger’s response would be brutal.  As for Hamas leaders, they fully anticipated this, and are hunkered down safely while their people suffer the consequences.   Every time you see a sign or graffiti that reads “Free Palestine”  please add just two words:  “From Hamas.”

Sam Harris is perhaps the smartest, most reasonable thinker out there. In this excellent treatise about the sin of moral equivalence in this conflict,  Harris writes: 
    “Simply the counting the number of dead bodies is not a way of judging the moral balance here. Intentions matter. It matters what kind of world people are attempting to build. If Israel wanted to perpetrate a genocide of the Palestinians, it could do that easily, tomorrow. But that isn’t what it wants. And the truth is the Jews of Israel would live in peace with their neighbours if their neighbours weren’t in thrall to genocidal fanatics”

By taking hostages, hiding militants in hospitals and using children as human shields, Hamas - supported by a brutal regime in Iran deeply threatened by an Israel-Saudi Arabia peace deal - has once again relegated the people of Gaza to cannon fodder. Hamas has long profited off violence and misery. Iran relishes the chaos. War and human tragedy is inevitable. They kick the tiger, the tiger lashes out, they condemn the tiger, then kick it again. The cycle has to stop. 

If there is any silver lining to the current tragedy in Israel and Gaza, it is that a new leadership might emerge to clear the debris and aspire to a lasting peace.  That, inshallah, the people of Gaza will finally resist and oppose the horrors of their Hamas leaders, and that Israelis will clear out their own broken leadership and galvanize around a secure, peace-committed future.  Even then, it only takes one deranged religious lunatic on either side to derail everything.   Yet thanks to Nelson Mandela (and his largely forgotten and overlooked counterpart, FW de Klerk) South Africa was able to somehow forge a lasting peace. Where is the Palestinian Nelson Mandela?   When is the Israeli FW de Klerk?  We could really use them when all this is over.  

To my Jewish, non-Jewish and Muslim friends, please know:  I mourn the suffering on all sides. I welcome debate.  I feel your pain, anger, frustration and exhaustion.   Inshallah and baruch hashem,  we will one day get the leadership - and the peace - we so desperately strive for. 

Ps: If you want to read a balanced book that is sympathetic to both Israelis and Palestinians as it explains the history of the conflict, I highly recommend Israel: A Simple Guide to the Most Misunderstood Country on Earth by Noa Tishby.

Almost a decade ago,  I came up with an idea to profile veteran concierges at hotels so that guests could get to know who they are and what they do.   The plan was to make short, engaging videos which the hotel could use online or on their in-room video channels.   We filmed a demo with my friend (and part-time Word Travels production team-member) Neil Maclean, who epitomized the concierge role at the Fairmont Hotel Vancouver.   I pitched a few hotel chains, all of whom passed because every star in the universe did not align and that is what it takes to bring any great idea to fruition.    

I uploaded the video to Youtube, and noticed this week that it has now garnered over 175,000 views.   That's pretty impressive for our little video - shot and edited by Ian Mackenzie.    Below is the video, along with a short interview with Neil about what he does, and why guests should stop by the concierge desk more often. 

​Our primary role is to make life easier for our guests.   This could mean anything from making dinner reservations, suggesting tourist activities, helping with directions, ordering flowers, and helping to resolve any guest issues. 
 
You could argue we’re obsolete, but we have insider information you simply can’t get on your smart phone. 
 
The perception is that the concierge can get sketchy things, like drugs and prostitutes.   Fortunately, this is not the case.   In all my years I’ve never been asked to get anything illegal.    I think the movies have given people the wrong idea.
 
The role of the concierge is to give, give, give.  It’s a contrast to the front desk, which can take, take, take.   We’re a free service.  Where else will you find a free expert on the city?
 
Concierges used to be arrogant and stuffy, like overbearing maître d’s.   The modern concierge is approachable, patient, loves their city, and knows how to listen. 
 
There are some services many people don’t know we can provide:  We can change your flights, so you don’t have to spend an hour on the phone.   We have relationships with airlines and operators, and usually get special treatment.    We can help track lost luggage, or even deliver flowers to your room.  We aim to exceed guest expectations, because we really enjoy what we do.
 
I have heard horror stories of concierges being verbally abused, or being asked to find drugs and what not.  But it’s way more rare than people think.  Fortunately I like my job, colleagues, and this grand, old hotel.
 
There’s no protocol for tipping concierges.  We’re not servers or bellmen.  We do get paid more than those guys, but tips are always appreciated. 
 
My most popular question is:  “Where is the bathroom?”  My most outrageous request:  A guest was looking for moose antlers, so I found myself calling taxidermists around the city.  
 
Every day I meet people from around the world, and sometimes celebrities too.  Over the years I’ve helped out Robin Williams, Buzz Aldrin, Michael Phelps and Cindy Crawford, who used to hang out at the concierge desk and chit-chat.  So many people wanted photos of her I told her she should do it professionally. 
 
We once arranged a private screening for Jerry Seinfeld, and a belt for Bill Clinton. A few weeks later we received a personalized thank you letter with the presidential stamp.   The reality is that we would treat all our guests the same way. 

Here’s an actual conversation with my six-year-old on the final day of our eventful spring break.  
“Well, what was your favourite part of our trip?   Was it visiting the Statue of Liberty that you so desperately wanted to see?  Was it the American Museum of Natural History, or that hilarious show we saw on Broadway?  Was it hanging out with your aunt in Central Park, or taking the busy subway around the city?   Was it spending a week playing in the big waves of Copacabana?  Was it the cable car to Sugar Loaf Mountain to get that incredible view of Rio?   Maybe it was the Wishing Tree and the monkeys we saw at the top of the mountain?  Was it climbing on massive floats and dressing up in carnival costumes to dance with a beautiful samba princess?  Maybe it was the sharks and stingrays we saw at the aquarium, or eating beach corn, grilled queijo and drinking coconuts at the beach?   Playing with your cute Brazilian cousins, riding a bike along the beach, or spending time with your grandparents who spoiled you rotten with candy and cakes?”
Galileo thought about all this for a half a second, and replied:
“My favourite part was taking the airplane.”

I write these words during our final flight home after two-and-a-half weeks abroad. After a ten-hour overnight leg from Rio to Houston, we spent 90 minutes in line-ups to clear US customs and airport security.  Removing friction from travel is a primary driver for tourism growth.  Adding friction and making life difficult for passengers is the domain of government security and regulations, which has built nonsensical layers of procedure atop unnecessary layers of bureaucracy that make no sense to anyone.  Are we still removing our shoes because one idiot unsuccessfully tried to blow up a plane with his shoelaces twenty-five years ago? Are we still confiscating perfume because liquids over 100ml are deadly?  Are we still getting grilled by customs while connecting through a transit bubble, and going through security again even though we never left the sealed-off arrivals hall?  Which is why, if you have anything less than a two-hour international connection these days, you’re playing with fire.   All this said, our planes took off on time, United Airlines staff have been lovely, and even though they misplaced one of our suitcases for 48 hours, the system somehow worked well enough for little Galileo to have the time of his life, both on the plane and off it. 

​I’ve never been a particular fan of New York.  I’ve visited the city a half dozen times, mostly for professional reasons, and I've always got the sense it's a frenetic place for those in ivory towers, and the overworked masses who support them.  How does it go: Live in New York but leave before you become too hard, and live in LA but leave before you become too soft.  New York tends to be city utterly swept up in the sense of its own self-importance. This is not the centre of the Earth (geographically that’s somewhere in Turkey).   Being rude to strangers is not charming, it’s just being rude.  Perhaps when I was in my twenties, I’d have more fire and energy to take on The Big Apple, a zest I’d exhausted in late 1990’s London (The Big Smoke).  Age has now mellowed me, and nature holds infinitely more appeal than nightclubs or fancy restaurants.    On this trip, I found the subways exhausting, the line-ups at the attractions intense, the people brusque.  Times Square was a violent display of overwhelming advertising and grift.  I certainly enjoyed visiting the Statue of Liberty and American Museum of Natural History with my kids.  Both world-class attractions are transitioning from Covid protocols and were somewhat chaotic. We used a CityPASS which saved us a few bucks, and a company called TodayTix to get heavily discounted Broadway show tickets.  I took the family to see The Play That Goes Wrong, which had all ages in stitches and was the perfect family-friendly live theatre experience, especially for kids who have never seen this level of professional theatre before.  We caught a lovely sunny day at Central Park, and my daughter’s birthday present was a visit to the goopy Sloomoo Institute, which will get its own sloppy sticky story in due course.   We stayed with relatives downtown, and as always, reconnecting with family proved to be the best highlight of all.

​It's been almost a decade since I visited Rio de Janeiro, presently emerging with the rest of Brazil from dark political days. Just about all my time would be spent with family in Copacabana, staying with my in-laws who live one block from one of the most famous beaches in the world.  Heading into fall, the weather was spectacular: 30℃ blue skies, crashing waves, not a drop of rain in a month that could just as easily be a washout.   Little stalls along the beach offer chairs, umbrellas, drinks and food, and with a caipirinha in hand I was content to watch the kids play in the waves while an endless stream of touts made the rounds offering everything from bolinho de bacalhau (cod fish cakes) to loud shirts and Bluetooth speakers.  I don’t recall Copacabana being this clean, lovely and safe, especially in the evening.  New waste treatment plants have made the water safe to swim in, tourism police and lifeguards patrol the shores, locals wear their teeny-weenie bathing suits, and you can happily spend all day doing nothing (the Brazilian way).  The neighbourhood was also noticeably LGBTQ-friendly. My kids got to know some local characters, relished their acai bowls, street food, Brazilian family, shopping excursions and night markets (the Canadian dollar goes far here). 

Of course, we still had time for the sensational views atop Sugar Loaf Mountain and the AquaRio, the largest aquarium in South America. We also took a braziliant tour called Carnaval Experience, taking us backstage at Samba City to learn about the city’s legendary festival.  Staying relatively put – by my standards anyway – I was reminded of the months my family spent in Chiang Mai and Hoi An, which allowed us to get under the skin of a different place and culture.  Like New York, the traffic and chaos of Rio can get a little much, but since my goals were modest, it was a joy to reconnect with our Brazilian family on these too-few, too-rare occasions, allowing the kids to immerse themselves in the culture of their mother’s heritage.  Ipanema, Santa Theresa, Lapa, heck the rest of Brazil would have been fantastic.  Maybe next time... or maybe I won’t get too far from the beach again.  Either way,  the friction of six airports, the white-knuckle taxis, the financial expense, the subways, the heat, the rain, the packing, the crowds, the jetlag…it’s all worth it, and it always is.

​Two hundred and fifty CEOs, fifty-two ministers of tourism, three hundred travel journalists, and nearly three thousand professionals have gathered to redefine tourism in the post-pandemic era, selecting a rather controversial venue for the occasion.  The annual World Travel and Tourism Council (WTTC) Global Summit has also attracted movie stars like Edward Norton, prominent international TV anchors and a spattering of supermodels, some of whom no doubt shared my unease flying into Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.  With its torrid reputation for human rights and on-going diplomatic spat with Canada, friends and family were genuinely concerned for my well-being. Despite the kingdom’s attempt to reinvent itself as a tourism mecca guided by the vision of its millennial Crown Prince, travel advisories cautioned me to log out of social media apps, avoid government buildings, and adhere to strict local customs. My wife also advised me to please keep my mouth shut, knowing full well I have an inherent incapacity to do so.    Supplied with a new Saudi tourist visa and with an invitation for the conference, I had no idea what to expect. 

​I didn’t need pyro-drones topping off a multi-million-dollar fireworks show to witness Saudi Arabia’s eye-boggling investment in tourism.  It was immediately evident pulling up to Riyadh’s palatial Ritz Carlton Hotel and Conference Centre. The production values of the WTTC event were staggering, along with impressive showcases for Saudi Arabia’s four high-profile giga-projects – developments that aspire to create entire cities out of thin air.    The CEOs of Marriott, Hilton, Carnival, Accor, Hertz and Hyatt were on stage, along with dignitaries from Portugal, Austria, South Africa, Costa Rica, the USA, the UK and Australia.  CNN’s combative host Richard Quest grilled them about how the tourism industry intends to pay more than just lip service to sustainability, a major theme throughout the two-day conference.  With great fanfare, the WTTC released the first-ever report to measure tourism’s impact on global carbon emissions.  The conclusion is that airfare, hotels, cruises and the like account for 8.1%, less than the previously estimated 11%.  Reporters questioning the report’s methodology were reassured that the numbers would be scrutinized by governments and NGOs around the world.  After the scourge of over-tourism and the challenges Covid, a revitalized industry is taking responsibility seriously.
 
Buzz words and catchphrases flowed thick and fast:  community engagement, greenwashing, decarbonization, revenge tourism, zero gravity urbanism, follow the data with next generation artificial intelligence.   “We are not in the service industry, we are in the care industry,” said Hyatt Hotels CEO Mark Hoplamazian.  Above all, there was a lot of overall optimism.  Despite a labour crisis, inflation, China’s iffy recovery and the tragic war in Ukraine, global tourism’s pandemic recovery has been faster and fiercer than anyone expected (Destination Canada revised and shortened its own tourism recovery projections too).  Demand is quite simply outstripping supply, bringing with it opportunities and issues.  Former UN Secretary General Ban Ki-moon voiced his frustration that government climate initiatives were lagging, supermodels Elle McPherson and Adriana Lima launched new Awards for Sustainability, the WTTC released various economic reports, and multiple newsworthy deals and announcements were made.  Corporate tourism is a massive industry so I won’t bore you with the details, but it was hard to ignore the rather large elephant in the room. An elephant called Saudi Arabia. 

“I want women in Canada to know that our lives here are not what they think our lives are,” explained Alhanouf Aldrees, a cultural manager at Riyadh’s spectacularly restored Diriyah UNESCO World Heritage Site.  I’d made a point to engage with as many Saudis as I could, asking thorny questions so I could hear their side of the story.  What they shared left me in little doubt that the country is experiencing neck-bracing social change, reminding me of how quickly everything transformed when I lived through the fall of Apartheid.   Saudi Arabia’s Crown Prince Mohammed Bin Salman (popularly known as MBS) is smashing traditions with an iron fist, breaking both glass ceilings - and political opponents - in his goal to modernize and restore his kingdom after decades of conservative religious isolation. Supported by Ivy League-educated staff and enjoying widespread domestic support from a youthful population, MBS wants to spearhead a new global economic landscape.  
 
You’ve likely heard about the plight of Saudi women, the persecution and murder of Saudi opposition (including a prominent US-based Saudi journalist in grisly fashion), the brutal proxy war in Yemen, mass beheadings of local activists, and the infamous 2017 Royal purge that took place in the same Ritz Carlton hosting the WTTC event.  You probably have not heard about the legal reforms assuring Saudi women of their independent right to drive, work, remove their abaya, marry, divorce and travel.  We don’t hear how hardline religious authorities have been stripped of their influence and power, or that MBS has denounced the hardcore Wahhabism that Saudi Arabia has traditionally used to promote Islamic extremism.  We certainly don’t hear much about Saudi Arabia’s striking skyscrapers and sprawling neon malls, busy late-night highway traffic and massive shopping palaces. The news doesn’t cover MDL Beast Soundstorm, an annual desert concert that attracts more than two hundred thousand people from around the globe (this year headlined by Bruno Mars, Post Malone and a dozen electronica superstars). Did you know that this year’s Red Sea Film Festival in Jeddah screened LGBTQ+ movies, celebrated women in cinema, hosted a conversation with Spike Lee, promoted movies that challenged Islamic practices, and claimed zero censorship? Cinemas were unbanned just five years ago, and yes, homosexuality is still illegal.
 
I’m struggling with the contradictions too, but before you fire up your outrage, consider speaking to the people who live here.  Tourism has always transcended politics and media.
“If Saudi Arabia reaches out,” WTTC CEO Julia Simpson tells me, “our job in tourism is to reach back.”   This is why WTTC members are investing around US$10.5 billion into the country, opening major hotels, resorts, air routes, cruise terminals and dozens of commercial developments.   Princess Haifa Al Saud, the kingdom’s impressive Vice Minister of Tourism, says that one hundred thousand Saudis are being trained in hospitality to work in fully sustainable resorts. It is Dubai all over again, employing the latest technology, and doubling down on ambition.  

​The four giga-projects are too mind-boggling to get into too much detail.  A 170 km-long, 500m-high, 200m-wide mirrored skyscraper city for nine million people?   Watch the promo video for The Line and I dare you not to gasp.  There are massive tourism developments on the Red Sea, in Riyadh, and in the rocky desert of AlUla.  Neom’s Ewok-fashioned ski resort, Trojena, looks like something out of a science fiction movie, and all of it boasts “next generation AI” so as to be “fully sustainable” with “cutting-edge design” from “the world’s leading architects.”   If you build it, they will come, and the Saudis are building big, spending an estimated US$1 trillion to build a global tourism economy, and increase its non-oil GDP from 16% to 50% within a decade.
 
The world’s largest desalination plants water the desert, and the world’s largest airport (under construction) hopes to welcome 100 million visitors by 2030 - all paid for by the world’s second-largest oil reserves.   And here lies the elephant in the room.  Pumping millions of barrels of oil to pay for sustainable mega-projects, admirable as they may be, does little to mitigate global climate change.  Climate scientists are imploring nations to keep the carbon in the ground, including Canada, which has the world’s third largest oil reserves.  I cannot help but wonder if Saudi Arabia’s jaw-dropping showcase developments – built by migrant workers in the scorching desert heat – might end up serving the mega-rich as escape pods for climate disaster.  At Riyadh’s wild exhibition for The Line, I ask a proud guide who will clean the dishes, or pick up the garbage.  “There will be no blue-collar workers here,” he replies. What about crime?  “There will be no crime in The Line.”  Next generation AI and robots will take care of all of it.  Stop me if you’ve heard that one before.   The line between utopia and dystopia feels very thin indeed. 
 
“Travel is all about faces, not places,” says my cheerful Riyadh guide Ali, and he’s right.  Plenty of mega-developments across the Middle East look to redefine the region in a post-oil future, but it’s the Saudis themselves who offer something truly unique.  Their warm hospitality is genuine and delightful.  I experience “welcome welcome!” everywhere, accompanied by smiles, handshakes, curious questions, and gratitude for visiting.   I relish the fragrant, blonde Saudi coffee served with sweet dates at every entrance, enjoying the smell of exotic spice in the desert breeze.   Locals insisted on buying me a $20 mocktail at a Jareed Hotel bar, although bar is the wrong word.   Alcohol remains strictly illegal in the kingdom, a major hurdle if the kingdom hopes to attract legions of international holidaymakers.  One step at a time.   

I end up speaking to almost a dozen local women in Riyadh and the coastal city of Jeddah, admittedly a small sample size, but I have drawn conclusions from fewer interactions before.  These women were highly educated (tertiary education is free) and well-travelled, staking out prominent positions in politics, culture and business, stepping into the light with their new-found legal independence.   A minority of Saudi ‘liberals’ are dispensing with religious traditions altogether, adopting modest western clothing, although still adhering to rules like separate recreational areas.  Most continue to embrace Islamic traditions and culture with great pride and surprising flexibility within the Koran’s interpretative framework. One asks me: “Why do women in Canada feel they can speak for my rights? Why do they think I’m oppressed?   Do they know my life?”  Even with the best intentions, we can’t claim to always know what is in someone else’s best interest, especially if we don’t engage and listen to them first. 
 
As for the WTTC Global Summit, any event that brings together such a diverse group of people, cultures, companies and ideas can only be a good thing.  Tourism breaks down stereotypes, facilitates dialogue, promotes engagement, and builds on generous hospitality. Next year the WTTC Global Summit is in Rwanda, another country with a problematic past, and tremendous tourism potential.   If the world reaches out, we should always reach back.