After a big few years in our little corner of the world, my partner, Ben, and I spent two weeks in Aotearoa/New Zealand exploring the beautiful country of the long white cloud. Naturally, our mode of transport was via bike, making Ben’s first ever bikepacking trip.
Fittingly, it was also the first holiday I had taken since my previous bikepacking trip to New Zealand in 2018… although, this trip was to be very intentionally different to my previous solo adventure. In 2018, I averaged 170-200km each day. Having both learnt from that trip and wanting to (a) take in more experiences and (b) ensure Ben survives our trip (he doesn’t ride nearly as much as I do), I designed the trip to move more slowly and thoughtfully.
I came into this trip with a very different eye compared to my 2018 adventure. Some of that was intentional, but mostly it was simply due to age, experience and wanting to actively learn how New Zealand does tourism and what I can take away from that experience to bring into Eudaimonia.
This blog post is about my reflections, learnings and thoughts toward tourism.
It is not an answer to our consumer driven world, simply a thought process that I hope to have some impact on either someone else’s life, or at the very least, my own and how these thoughts impact the way in which I approach Eudaimonia.
When I first chose to start Eudaimonia, the consumerist nature of tourism was my biggest mental and moral battle within myself to reason. lutruwita/Tasmania is undoubtably a beautiful, unique and mostly, untouched island. 48% of our land is National Park, of which, almost 20% is World Heritage listed. In case those numbers don’t mean much to you, that means that almost half of our footprint is untouched or at least uninhabited by humans. In a world where the human race is quite literally destroying our planet, I think those numbers in themselves illustrate just how significant and impactful the Tasmanian natural habitat is. But with the intention of trying to show the beauty of our great state, often those intentions are coupled with destroying the very land in which we seek to preserve.
There are so many aspects of Aotearoa/New Zealand, particularly the South Island, that are similar to Tasmania, from the geography, to the agricultural driven past, the small towns and the untouched land.
Similar to Tasmania, New Zealand is known for its geographically diverse landscape which led to its growth in tourism in the 90’s. For sake of building a story and a reference point, that means tourism has been growing in New Zealand for approximately 30 years.
In comparison, MONA is generally considered the marker for our tourism growth in Tasmania, which officially opened in 2011. So we have approximately 10 years of growth behind us.
I think this comparison is important, for us, as Tasmanians to reflect on the things that are positive and the things that are potentially detrimental within NZ tourism.
Because who are we, if we are not learning beings?
As a tourist, it is amazing how easy it is to travel around NZ. There are buses running that can get you almost anywhere, albeit with limited departure times. There are tourism businesses galore running every kind of niche and experience imaginable. Whether you want to sit in the comfort of a private plane, or keen to get your heart racing in an adventure sport, New Zealand seems to have every option. But there are also detriments to this accessibility…
The most noticeable and really quite sad, was walking into one of the glaciers at Franz Joseph. You walk in toward the glacier to a viewing platform to see the glacier a few kilometers inland from a platform which used to be almost touching it.
I had heard stories of how much the glacier has receded over the years, but actually being there, seeing where the glacier used to be just a short time ago, compared to where it is now, is so stark, so distressing. You really can’t describe it or appreciate its significance, until you’re standing there in front of it.
On top of that, instead of the serene sound of standing in a national park listening to the birds, you hear helicopters over head taking people into the glacier. Because we can no longer see it up close by foot, due to the rapid melting, we use one of the most environmentally impactful modes of transport, a plane or helicopter, to be able to touch it.
Because we’re human. And we believe that is our right.
Don’t get me wrong, I think the accessibility of the natural environment is something truly beautiful. I think the desire to get closer to what is natural, to trees that have been growing for thousands of years, to glaciers that were formed millions of years ago and to explore the things that we don’t fully understand. To step away from concrete buildings and streets, from our everyday 9-5 societal norms. As a species, as a society, I think all of that is so important. But at what point do we cross the threshold of our own importance and ruin these environments that are so much more significant than the human race itself?
At what point should we be taking ownership, as individuals, as tour operators, as consumers?
I don’t have an answer to any of this. And I am as much of the issue as anyone else.
We literally took a flight from Wanaka to Milford Sound during our trip, which was probably the most spectacular and unforgettable experiences of our lives. But the entire time I was also ridden with guilt, for entering an area known for its pristine environment and rugged beauty, via one of the most environmentally impactful modes of transport.
I asked the pilot how many flights enter Milford each day. 100 seperate planes fly into Milford every day, with visitor attraction exceeding 1 million people per year. Can you imagine the fossil fuel impact of that alone?
Again, I can only think of the conundrum of our human impact on significant environments such as Milford. Are we seeing visitation numbers this high so everyone can get their social media photo? Do we have too many people trying to make money from natural attractions? Do we just have too many humans on earth? The answer is probably ‘yes’ to all of those questions.
But what can we do to change the trajectory we’re on?
Like I said at the beginning, I don’t hold the answers. But I do hope to provoke thought. To ensure we continue to question the things we do as individuals, as consumers and as businesses.
I believe actively seeking to purchase things that are made locally is important. If that is not possible, then seeking to purchase from a business that is owned locally. One where you can see where your money is going and even who it is going to.
This may not be possible in all scenarios, however, I think having an understanding of the ‘food chain’, knowing where products have come from, who is getting paid along the way and a workplace where employees are looked after. That last one, to me, always such an important consideration. If the only person I see in the food chain (ie. the service industry) is not happy within their workplace, how am I to trust that the people further down that food chain (ie. the producers) are being looked after?
Creating small economies like this is not how our society thrives, it is not how consumerism thrives, however I believe it is the best way we as individuals and consumers can make an impact of the direction our society is taking and everything that follows in its wake. To have connection to local land, to local people, to know who we are talking to and our impact on the world around us.
So what am I doing within Eudaimonia that makes a difference, and more importantly, what do I need to change?
We will continue to buy things locally and seek to find local alternatives. While I don’t think I advertise it very well, almost every thing we provide on tour is locally made. From the coffee we purchase (Villino), the milk we buy (Ashgrove) to the electrolyte mixes we use (Bulk Nutrients). I think there are still things within this realm we can do better. If we’re organised we provide fruit and veg either from my garden or direct from the farmer, however sometimes we get complacent, particularly on longer tours, purchasing from the supermarket instead of local.
We will learn about each business we support. To me, this has always been a cornerstone to our difference as a company. Every accommodation service, every winery or food stop we have used from the beginning has been owned by a Tasmanian. It is so important for me to know where our money is going and who it is supporting, and to have a face, a name and an understanding of what the business is striving to achieve. Again, I don’t think we really advertise or promote this enough. I think as a business we could also be ensuring our own consumers are learning about this. Whether that is meeting the owner, or simply explaining why we have chosen this location.
We will learn more about ethical sourcing and where our products are made. With consumerism driving so many industries, the clothing industry has certainly had its fair share of the spotlight in its unethical sourcing and production in pursuit of the cheapest and fastest clothing. While our clothing is purchased through a local clothing and design company, I don’t know much more about the production line of a lot of our custom gear. I believe that is something I can do better at.
Continue to support community. Community has always been a key aspect to our drive and our success. We will continue to support our community, to foster a better environment for new and developing riders, a space that is inclusive and welcoming to all. We will continue to question our practices and those around us to ensure we are continuing to grow and benefit that community.
I am here hoping that the choices I make, have an impact and you too think about your own choices. With where you put your money and who you are supporting. Our choices don’t need to be perfect, they just have to be made with thought and intent and not driven by social media and the consumerist drive for more.
Maybe the world is fucked.
But maybe there are still small steps we can take as individuals to have an impact.
As I reflect on my writing, I hope this post is not too depressing. I do not wish to put pressure on us as consumers, when realistically the big companies are the ones who make the biggest impact. But I do hope that lots of individual choices can one day culminate into a big shift somewhere within our ever expanding society.
Sofia Tsamassiros