Right of Passage
Anti-tourism is not new. When I was 12 — many moons ago — my family and I were staying in a gîte in Dax in the South of France. My Mum was a language teacher who loved her belle France, even though it took two days to drive from the north of Scotland.
We went to the local public swimming pool — such great fun — yet when I went back to the changing room I couldn't find my clothes. We found them tossed up high so I couldn't reach them. Suddenly I felt I wasn't welcome. I will never forget it.
We have been brought up with the belief that travel is a human right, the world our oyster — and if we don't have the funds, there's always buy now pay later, or a credit card to stack up debt on.
It is not a human right. Travel is a choice and a privilege.
The Henley Passport Index ranks passports by visa-free agreements — bilateral deals, diplomatic relationships, political capital built over decades. A ranking of power, not people. Singapore leads with access to 192 destinations. Afghanistan sits at the bottom with 23. Same planet. Entirely different worlds.
Passport power was never just geography. It's politics. And in the age of authoritarian leaders, it becomes a weapon. The US has suspended entry for nationals of 39 countries. Brazil responded with mandatory e-visas for Americans, citing reciprocity. Chad declared mirror restrictions. Tit for tat diplomacy.
Golden visas pay for priority access. The Trump Gold Card — $1 million, fast-tracked to permanent residency. The same administration that turned away a World Cup referee at Miami airport will hand you a green card if the price is right.
From world-class referees to star players and fans, people were turned away from the 2026 World Cup. And it doesn't stop at sport — conferences, music festivals, cultural events face the same passport hierarchy. The invitation is global. The access isn't.
That's the political red tape. But what happens on the ground once you manage to get in?
Spain is the most successful destination with the most vocal of protests — from the Balearics and the Canaries to Barcelona. And that's just the ones we know of. A country of under 50 million people, set to welcome 100 million international visitors. That's intense.
Getting through the border is just one step. It's the welcome on the ground that is not always guaranteed.
And if you're British, you'll join the queue — literally. The EU's Entry/Exit System (EES), designed in theory for seamless travel, puts third countries right to the back. Waits of up to five hours or more reported at peak periods. Adding friction into the journey is another way of tempering the welcome.
I love Menorca, the beautiful coves and the Phoenician port of Ciutadella. But I will think twice about if and when I go, conscious of my impact on the local community. A mutual bond of trust.
There is a fine line between Dax and Menorca. We as travellers in the global north need to be mindful of our impact on communities.
I can't wait to prove my worth, but I've learned welcome was never mine to guarantee. All I can do is show up in the best way I can, and hope everyone else does too.