Excess baggage: Tour the newest traumatised hotspots on India’s domestic circuit

What happens when India’s domestic tourists take to a place? What does the impact of this locust model of tourism look like? What happens when the crowds, discouraged by their own numbers, move on? And which are the most likely destinations to face this fate next?

The Umling La Pass, the world’s highest motorable road, might be a good place to start unfurling the map. Located in the Ladakh region of Kashmir, this pass was opened to tourists in 2022 (before then, access was heavily controlled by the army). Now, among revellers headed into the region for a hike, a temple visit or to spend a weekend away from home, this has become a popular selfie point.

The route to the pass wends through what used to be some of the quietest villages in Ladakh. One of these, about 100 km from Umling La, is Hanle, now home to the high-profile Indian Astronomical Observatory. IAO is now seeing people turn up at the gate in SUVs, asking if they can “just take a look” at their giant telescope, before they head on to the pass.

“This region used to be known for its wildlife sanctuary, and as a paradise for bird watchers. The observatory and the opening of the pass are a double whammy that is likely to result in an onslaught of adventure-seeking bikers and drivers taking over the terrain,” says Deleks Namgyal, 46, who grew up in Ladakh and has run a wildlife-focused travel company for 13 years.

Namgyal is also president of the All Ladakh Tour Operators Association.

“I am heartbroken by the way tourists thoughtlessly put local ecosystems and communities at risk for their entertainment,” he says, “It’s this new generation of ‘selfie tourists’ who don’t hesitate to drive a big SUV to the mountains, and then off-road in Ladakh, which is polluting and dangerous for the local flora and fauna.”

Beaten track

The booming homestay segment is adding to the strain, multiplying the number of beds available in eco-sensitive and overburdened zones such as, for instance, the hill station of Shimla in Himachal Pradesh.

Traffic jams here have made national news since 2019. Traffic police data indicates that 12,000 vehicles entered Shimla a day, on weekdays, in the peak summer months from April to June; with that number rising to over 26,000 on the weekends.

Shimla is indicative of a crisis unfolding across scenic, mountainous, temperate-weathered Himachal Pradesh.

“We had about 17.5 million tourists annually before the pandemic, which took a massive hit in 2020, and the numbers fell to a meagre 3.2 million that year. In 2021, we had about 5.7 million tourists,” says Amit Kashyap, managing director of the Himachal Pradesh Tourism Development Corporation.

In the first six months of 2023, he adds, HP received an unprecedented 10 million-plus visitors.

In a small example of what this can do to conditions on the ground, the “excessive influx of tourists” as Sumit Raj Vashisht, director of Shimla Walks, calls it, has seen public spaces taken over by cars.

“This used to be a largely pedestrian town,” Vashisht says. “I used to stop at designated spots with my guests to talk about the history of where we were. Now, there is barely any space to do this. Cars are parked on every side and corner of the streets.”

Out of place

It’s a perfect storm that’s been building for a while. Growing mobility — literal and figurative — has put disposable incomes and steering wheels in the hands of a growing number of millions. Social media has given these millions a list of places to head to. New airports and improved highways have made it easier to get there.

According to the union tourism ministry’s India Tourism Statistics report for 2022, domestic tourism numbers grew from 747.7 million in 2010 to 2.3 billion in 2019.

“The quality of tourists is poor,” he says. “People flock here in their cars on weekends, spend their time drinking out of bottles and littering our streets, disturb the surroundings by playing loud music, and we are left to clean up after them.”

In order to minimise the burden on existing focus areas, local tour operators may encourage groups to try lesser-known pockets, and so new destinations form, and a cycle may begin in a new location.

“Places like Kullu and Manali are already saturated, so in order to keep that situation from aggravating, we have tried to promote tribal and orchard tourism to encourage people to visit the rural areas as well,” Kashyap says.

This is a pattern that has played out over and over, in the trends-driven market. It has played out on Goa’s beaches and then in its interiors; on Karnataka’s beaches, when Goa became too overrun; then along Maharashtra’s once-pristine Konkan coast, which is now lined with hotels, homestays, watersports centres, malls, and “villas” with infinity pools available on AirBnB.

Deep impact

One of the worst fallouts of a place being overrun in this manner, is that locals cannot afford to live there any more.

Disha Kapkoti, 31, who has run a homestay in the Nainital district of Uttarakhand with her husband Sambit Dattachaudhuri, 33, for six years, says orchards in villages across the region have been sold, the farms replaced by hotels and homestays. “Land rates are soaring, which makes it impossible for locals to buy land here any more. This, along with climate change and erratic weather conditions, has broken the backs of fruit-growers in the region.”

Littering and garbage dumps are altering landscapes and impacting animal life. Even Uttarakhand’s Valley of Flowers is seeing noisy crowds and litter, Kapkoti says. This Unesco World Heritage Site, which is covered in blooms from June to October, saw 20,000 visitors in 2022, shattering past records and prompting authorities to cap the number of passes issued.

In Cherrapunji, meanwhile, numbers are being informally monitored. Tour guides avoid the more popular double-decker living-root bridges, unless tourists specifically ask to be taken there. “Those bridges had begun to suffer some damage. We are working together to avoid this kind of strain on one location,” says local guide Batista Khongphai, 48. “Besides, there are so many beautiful, lesser-known bridges to see.”

Travel, don’t tour

How can we, as visitors, do better?

Be a traveller, not a tourist, says Pritimoy Das, co-founder of the customised tours company Zero Degree Latitude. The real essence of travel lies in engaging with the culture and people of a terrain, instead of seeking to change them, he adds.

As far as possible, do as the locals do. So, if you’re going to Shimla, leave your car at home. Don’t expect or demand facilities such as swimming pools and central heating in regions where there has typically been no culture of these things.

Don’t hesitate to travel. The world is meant to be experienced. “Just do it with awareness and respect for the people whose home you are in,” says Vashisht.

And always aim to leave the place exactly as you found it. Literally look behind you. There should be no evidence you were there; except maybe a thank-you note for your host (on paper, indoors; not on a bridge or in a cave).

The only other hint you ever visited should be locals, weeks later, saying to each other: “Remember that group from xyz? It would be nice if they came back.”

What happens when India’s domestic tourists take to a place? What does the impact of this locust model of tourism look like? What happens when the crowds, discouraged by their own numbers, move on? And which are the most likely destinations to face this fate next?

The Umling La Pass, the world’s highest motorable road, might be a good place to start unfurling the map. Located in the Ladakh region of Kashmir, this pass was opened to tourists in 2022 (before then, access was heavily controlled by the army). Now, among revellers headed into the region for a hike, a temple visit or to spend a weekend away from home, this has become a popular selfie point.

The route to the pass wends through what used to be some of the quietest villages in Ladakh. One of these, about 100 km from Umling La, is Hanle, now home to the high-profile Indian Astronomical Observatory. IAO is now seeing people turn up at the gate in SUVs, asking if they can “just take a look” at their giant telescope, before they head on to the pass.

“This region used to be known for its wildlife sanctuary, and as a paradise for bird watchers. The observatory and the opening of the pass are a double whammy that is likely to result in an onslaught of adventure-seeking bikers and drivers taking over the terrain,” says Deleks Namgyal, 46, who grew up in Ladakh and has run a wildlife-focused travel company for 13 years.

Namgyal is also president of the All Ladakh Tour Operators Association.

“I am heartbroken by the way tourists thoughtlessly put local ecosystems and communities at risk for their entertainment,” he says, “It’s this new generation of ‘selfie tourists’ who don’t hesitate to drive a big SUV to the mountains, and then off-road in Ladakh, which is polluting and dangerous for the local flora and fauna.”

Beaten track

The booming homestay segment is adding to the strain, multiplying the number of beds available in eco-sensitive and overburdened zones such as, for instance, the hill station of Shimla in Himachal Pradesh.

Traffic jams here have made national news since 2019. Traffic police data indicates that 12,000 vehicles entered Shimla a day, on weekdays, in the peak summer months from April to June; with that number rising to over 26,000 on the weekends.

Shimla is indicative of a crisis unfolding across scenic, mountainous, temperate-weathered Himachal Pradesh.

“We had about 17.5 million tourists annually before the pandemic, which took a massive hit in 2020, and the numbers fell to a meagre 3.2 million that year. In 2021, we had about 5.7 million tourists,” says Amit Kashyap, managing director of the Himachal Pradesh Tourism Development Corporation.

In the first six months of 2023, he adds, HP received an unprecedented 10 million-plus visitors.

In a small example of what this can do to conditions on the ground, the “excessive influx of tourists” as Sumit Raj Vashisht, director of Shimla Walks, calls it, has seen public spaces taken over by cars.

“This used to be a largely pedestrian town,” Vashisht says. “I used to stop at designated spots with my guests to talk about the history of where we were. Now, there is barely any space to do this. Cars are parked on every side and corner of the streets.”

Out of place

It’s a perfect storm that’s been building for a while. Growing mobility — literal and figurative — has put disposable incomes and steering wheels in the hands of a growing number of millions. Social media has given these millions a list of places to head to. New airports and improved highways have made it easier to get there.

According to the union tourism ministry’s India Tourism Statistics report for 2022, domestic tourism numbers grew from 747.7 million in 2010 to 2.3 billion in 2019.

“The quality of tourists is poor,” he says. “People flock here in their cars on weekends, spend their time drinking out of bottles and littering our streets, disturb the surroundings by playing loud music, and we are left to clean up after them.”

In order to minimise the burden on existing focus areas, local tour operators may encourage groups to try lesser-known pockets, and so new destinations form, and a cycle may begin in a new location.

“Places like Kullu and Manali are already saturated, so in order to keep that situation from aggravating, we have tried to promote tribal and orchard tourism to encourage people to visit the rural areas as well,” Kashyap says.

This is a pattern that has played out over and over, in the trends-driven market. It has played out on Goa’s beaches and then in its interiors; on Karnataka’s beaches, when Goa became too overrun; then along Maharashtra’s once-pristine Konkan coast, which is now lined with hotels, homestays, watersports centres, malls, and “villas” with infinity pools available on AirBnB.

Deep impact

One of the worst fallouts of a place being overrun in this manner, is that locals cannot afford to live there any more.

Disha Kapkoti, 31, who has run a homestay in the Nainital district of Uttarakhand with her husband Sambit Dattachaudhuri, 33, for six years, says orchards in villages across the region have been sold, the farms replaced by hotels and homestays. “Land rates are soaring, which makes it impossible for locals to buy land here any more. This, along with climate change and erratic weather conditions, has broken the backs of fruit-growers in the region.”

Littering and garbage dumps are altering landscapes and impacting animal life. Even Uttarakhand’s Valley of Flowers is seeing noisy crowds and litter, Kapkoti says. This Unesco World Heritage Site, which is covered in blooms from June to October, saw 20,000 visitors in 2022, shattering past records and prompting authorities to cap the number of passes issued.

In Cherrapunji, meanwhile, numbers are being informally monitored. Tour guides avoid the more popular double-decker living-root bridges, unless tourists specifically ask to be taken there. “Those bridges had begun to suffer some damage. We are working together to avoid this kind of strain on one location,” says local guide Batista Khongphai, 48. “Besides, there are so many beautiful, lesser-known bridges to see.”

Travel, don’t tour

How can we, as visitors, do better?

Be a traveller, not a tourist, says Pritimoy Das, co-founder of the customised tours company Zero Degree Latitude. The real essence of travel lies in engaging with the culture and people of a terrain, instead of seeking to change them, he adds.

As far as possible, do as the locals do. So, if you’re going to Shimla, leave your car at home. Don’t expect or demand facilities such as swimming pools and central heating in regions where there has typically been no culture of these things.

Don’t hesitate to travel. The world is meant to be experienced. “Just do it with awareness and respect for the people whose home you are in,” says Vashisht.

And always aim to leave the place exactly as you found it. Literally look behind you. There should be no evidence you were there; except maybe a thank-you note for your host (on paper, indoors; not on a bridge or in a cave).

The only other hint you ever visited should be locals, weeks later, saying to each other: “Remember that group from xyz? It would be nice if they came back.”