Conscious traveller

In this moment of stillness, we must remember that it is people, not places, that truly make our travels, says journalist Lola Akinmade Åkerström

Why it’s important to remember that it’s people, not places, that truly make our travels.

The most needed, the hardest hit

A few years ago I quietly watched Maurizio at his wooden potter’s wheel, observing his hands gently shape and craft the clay. His eyes, the colour of honey, scanned the surface like lasers, seeking out any imperfections. After two decades spent crafting with care, the wheel had become like an extension of his body. Maurizio and his wife Rosella are the only artisans in Italy’s Emilia-romagna region keeping the 500-plus-year-old tradition of making téglia – terracotta pans for baking piadina flatbreads – with their hands.

Getting to their studio in the village of Ville Montetiffi required a conscious pilgrimage along winding roads that snaked along rolling hills with views of vineyards, fields of grazing sheep, old sheds and villas. Once on site, the internet was a distant memory. In our heavily connected world, we often take for granted that many local artisans and craftspeople preserving tangible pieces of culture and tradition don’t have a web presence, let alone their own e-commerce sites. Transactions are often made in person.

Before the pandemic, bringing back memories of our travels in the form of souvenirs was already losing its lustre; finding true cultural keepsakes amid the massproduced tourist trinkets could be demoralising. Who was actually benefiting from our overconsumption?

Being there, observing Maurizio at work, required being in the moment; it evoked a certain reverence, knowing that I was being invited into an intimate world. It was like watching a cheesemaker tenderly cradling a block of mature fromage, a textile maker intricately spinning silk or a Berber woman from the Atlas mountains lovingly weaving a carpet on a loom. These custodians of culture also extend to travel guides, who teach us about the traditions they preserve with care. As with any teacher, their livelihoods depend on their students.

When the pandemic hit and we stopped travelling, we all felt it emotionally, physically, financially. The travel industry makes up over 10% of the world’s GDP; an estimated US$1 trillion in revenue and more than 100 million jobs have been lost. Some of those most impacted are travel operators, professional guides and artisans. Preserving tradition requires continual support in order for those rituals and techniques to be passed on through the generations.

Amid the fog of uncertainty, the pandemic has given the travel industry a collective stillness; a moment for deep reflection and conscious work. An opportunity to think about what types of travellers we want to be once we come out of this.

Beyond depositing us in awe before grand vistas, the true gift of travel is the connection we foster with the people we met. Those are often the moments we remember the most. And those connections are often deeper when we’re around people who are truly passionate about what they do. Like, say, the potter delicately working his wheel.

“” Observing Maurizio work required being in the moment; it evoked a certain reverence, knowing that I was being invited into an intimate world