The era of Indigenous tourism has (finally) arrived

Harvesting wild rice by canoe on Whitefish Lake in Ontario. Building traditional Cree tipis in Saskatchewan. Exploring lava beds and alpine meadows in British Columbia while staying at the wood-hewn Vetter Falls Lodge, owned by Canada’s Nisga’a Nation. Travelers in Canada these days have more options than ever to get out and explore the country’s nature and culture—and many of these experiences are owned and operated by Canada’s more than 630 First Nation communities as well as Inuit and Métis peoples. They’re part of a tourism campaign, called the Original Original, from the Indigenous Tourism Association of Canada, or ITAC.  

The campaign was born in 2020, an otherwise bleak year for the travel industry due to COVID-19. But Keith Henry, a Métis person and president and CEO of the ITAC, couldn’t help but be excited when he saw the results of a survey directed by his organization that summer. The survey noted that 88% of Canadians wanted to support and partake in Indigenous travel experiences, thanks to a surge of in-country road trips as well as a fundamental, attitudinal shift that moved travelers closer to the perceived core values—embracing nature and a mindful pace of life, for example—of Indigenous culture. Still, travelers pinpointed a barrier when it came to Indigenous travel. They “wanted authentic experiences but didn’t know how to identify them,” says Henry. 

ITAC’s findings speak to a larger trend throughout the tourism industry. Travelers have long been enthusiastic about Indigenous tourism experiences: activities and adventures dedicated to all things pre-colonial. Recently, though, tour operators have noted that travelers want more transparency when it comes to how Indigenous communities are identified and compensated. That has led to soul-searching throughout the industry—and new support and advocacy for First Peoples. The travel industry has a long history of using Indigenous communities as backdrops, or even props, in tourism experiences. Today, these groups are increasingly controlling the experiences and profiting from them. 

The Original Original mark, launched by ITAC in 2021, identifies businesses that are at least 51% Indigenous-owned and adhere to a key set of responsible travel values. The mark—which earned ITAC a Most Innovative Companies Award in 2022—not only aims to educate travelers about Canada’s First Nations, Métis, and Inuit peoples, but also communicates authenticity to global travel partners. So far, 300 businesses have completed the Original Original accreditation process; ITAC expects to see that number double over the next 12 months. 

Other tour operators are also pulling back the curtain on their relationships with Indigenous communities. Intrepid Travel, the world’s largest travel-industry B Corp, has woven more than 100 First Peoples experiences into its 2023 trips, from a Navajo-guided tour of Utah’s Monument Valley to lunch and a mask-carving lesson with members of Costa Rica’s Terraba River Indigenous Community. These are far from token nods to pre-colonial history, and it takes time and effort to cultivate relationships with the communities and families behind these trips. 

“They are much more than commercial businesses, as they are also a way of continuing cultural traditions and building pride and a strong sense of identity,” says Sara King, Intrepid Travel’s general manager of purpose. “Typically, there is an extensive process of consultation within communities before becoming involved in tourism, including receiving permission from community elders on what stories and practices are permitted to be shared.” Intrepid also works with Indigenous communities to help develop their tourism infrastructure, consulting on strategy and guide training.

Based in Australia, Intrepid joined the country’s reconciliation movement—strengthening the relationship between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal peoples—and started tracking its economic impact on its First Nations tour operators. After 18 months, the company has spent about $500,000 AUD with them, a number that tells only part of the overall impact story. By supporting these tour operators, Intrepid enables them to hire more Aboriginal employees. “So there is a considerable trickle-down impact on job creation,” says King.

Toronto-based G Adventures, a tour operator that leads small group trips around the world, created a methodology in 2018 called the Ripple Score, which measures the company’s economic impact on the local communities with which it works. The company applies a set of metrics to its 2,000-plus on-the-ground operators—ranging from hotels and guides to restaurants and cultural sites—and aggregates that data to give each trip a rating that’s highlighted in brochures and online. The Ripple Score doesn’t single out Indigenous peoples in particular, though about 90% of G Adventures trips include indigenous experiences. 

“It’s a simple but effective way of letting our customers know how much of the money we spend on their behalf is staying in the country,” says Jamie Sweeting, VP for social enterprise and responsible travel. He adds that the average Ripple Score for a G Adventures trip is 93%. 

Governments are also starting to promote Indigenous tourism. In the United States, the 2016 Native American Tourism and Improving Visitor Experience (NATIVE) Act, was a major turning point, notes Seleni Matus, executive director of the International Institute of Tourism Studies at George Washington University. The NATIVE Act increased funding for Native American tourism and kickstarted coordination between local groups and federal agencies.

The act helped catalyze the South Dakota Native Tourism Alliance (SDNTA), a network of representatives from the state’s nine federally recognized tribal nations, as well as federal and state entities and private companies. Working with Matus and her colleagues at GW, the alliance created a five-year plan to develop a Native American tourism industry that would attract more of the state’s 14.5 million annual visitors—not to mention the $2.75 billion they spend—to tribal nations. (A similar project is currently underway in Maine.) Today, global tour companies such as California-based Trafalgar Tours, which runs about 5,000 trips annually, are working with the SDNTA to build out trips, like the National Parks and Native Trails of the Dakotas tour, which takes travelers to Rosebud Reservation—home to the Sicangu Lakota and Rosebud Sioux Tribes—as well as the Sitting Bull Monument on the Missouri River. 

Puerto Rico is highlighting its native roots with a new marketing campaign, Live Boricua. (Boricua is the name native peoples gave Puerto Rico before the Spanish arrived, and is now a colloquial name for island residents and its diaspora.) It’s a major departure from previous marketing strategies, which focused primarily on great weather and beautiful beaches. And in August, the Authority of Tourism of Panama (ATP) invested in Red Sostenible de Turismo Rural (SOSTUR), a network of rural communities, now being supported with infrastructure, training, and marketing. The Panamanians behind these projects—located in Indigenous territories, national park buffer zones, and places of natural and cultural significance—are developing experiences such as tropical farm tours and boating trips through mangrove-framed rivers.

Even the traditionally gated resorts are rethinking their offerings. Industry giant Iberostar Hotels & Resorts has partnered with nonprofit Planeterra—which provides community-travel enterprises with funding, education, and peer guidance—to create local-led experiences around all of its properties by 2030. Pilot programs include pop-up handicraft and chocolate-making exhibitions at the Iberostar Puerto Plata as well as trips to protected marine areas led by Mayan youth at Iberostar Tucan and Quetzal in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. While these may feel like baby steps to seasoned travelers, it’s new territory for these kinds of international resorts. “We’re excited to see more mainstream travel companies interested in providing these experiences to their guests,” says G Adventure’s Sweeting, who also serves as Planeterra’s president. 

Camping rental site Hipcamp integrates maps from Native Land Digital, which redraws the globe based on Indigenous borders, into its booking platform to acknowledge the first inhabitants of properties available on its website. “We’ve seen campers really dig into this integration and use it as a jumping-off point for additional research,” says Lydia Crosby, senior communications manager. In a small pilot in California, called the Land Stewardship Program, Hipcamp also paired hosts with Indigenous leaders who taught them how to better care for the lands they listed. In every case, Hipcamp hosts made changes to their land-management practices. One campsite, for example, relocated its tent grounds after learning they were next to a salmon spawning area; another created new road boundaries after understanding that its grounds were dotted with sensitive plants and burrowing animals. 

The Land Stewardship Program offers a glimpse of a possible future of travel, one in which Indigenous communities have greater influence over the entire industry. “As global tourism embraces sustainability, there is a lot to learn from Native American values,” says GW’s Matus, “which are grounded in stewardship of the land, hospitality, and planning seven generations into the future.” 

But we aren’t there yet, notes ITAC’s Henry. “It’s time for more industry leaders to see things through an Indigenous lens,” he says, noting that First Peoples representation in travel management and on company boards is still sorely lacking. Still, the shift in travel thinking feels more significant than ever, and all people—and the planet—will be better for it.