Sun, sea, and sand are the recipe for a perfect vacation—or are they? In The Last Resort (Ecco, July), journalist Sarah Stodola explores the dark side of paradise.
How did you get interested in the impact of beach travel?
Eleven years ago I started dating a surfer and began traveling to a lot of beaches with him. I was coming at beach culture as an outsider, and it struck me as weird, interesting, and self-contained. Vacationers never leave the grounds. You go to another country, but you’re not really going to another country. And it’s funny—people travel all this way to go to the beaches, but the pool is always more crowded.
Why are beaches so enticing to vacationers?
For most of human history, people wanted nothing to do with the ocean. Sea animals were scary, and the force of the ocean was really scary. In the 18th century, we started to see something like a present-day wellness craze. They thought that seawater and sea air were good for your health, and could cure a lot of your ailments; they had people drink a glass of seawater at breakfast, and mix it in their wine at night. When the casino opened in Monte Carlo, that was the first time we saw a beach resort where the priority was fun, not convalescence; it had drinking and brothels. The assumed healing properties got combined with hedonism and decadence. And that still defines our perceptions today: we see the beach as a place to get away, to have fun, rest, and relax.
What’s the impact of beach travel on local economies and the environment?
The typical large-scale beach resort has a negative impact on local ecology, though many are now trying to prioritize sustainability. Sunscreen hurts coral reefs, clearing away the vegetation; golf courses require a lot of fertilizer to keep them green, which runs into the ocean, messing with the ecosystem. On the community side, it’s a lot more complicated. Resorts are often opened in areas that need economic growth and industry, and beach tourism can provide that. Local people sometimes lose access to their own beachfront, but the resorts create a lot of jobs and bring in foreign wealth that otherwise wouldn’t be there. We can lament the loss of habitat and traditional farming and fishing methods, and at the same time, they now have access to health care, running water, and refrigeration. It’s a double-edged sword.
What steps can be taken to mitigate the damage?
No matter how sustainably developers try to build resorts, they’re still marketing to potential guests who are thousands of miles away. In the book I discuss a study published by a company called Responsible Travel that breaks down the carbon footprint of a number of vacations, including one from the U.K. to the Croatian island Vis. The footprint of the flight to get there was 4.5 times that of the seven days spent on Vis. It’s worth noting that this is just a flight within Europe, not a long-haul flight over an ocean. Resorts should start marketing more regionally instead of globally, and focus on a smaller area for fewer long-haul flights.
What are some alternative destinations for sun-loving travelers?
You don’t need to look away from the beach or the ocean—just look closer to home. The Caribbean has just as beautiful beaches as anywhere in the world. Look there before you look to the Seychelles.
