"The micro-journey allows us to see that the world around us is infinitely rich"

At the end of 2024, a study published in "Nature Communications" showed that, by itself, the tourism sector was responsible in 2019 for 8.8% of anthropogenic global warming.

After the brief Covid interlude, according to the World Travel & Tourism Council (WTTC), the contribution of travel and tourism to total greenhouse gas emissions worldwide still reached 6.5% in 2023. In a world forced to decarbonize as quickly as possible, tourism will therefore clearly have a role to play.

But how are mentalities evolving both within the Swiss population and in the global tourism industry? And isn’t the future of travel simply ultralocalized? We continue this series with Rémy Oudghiri, a French sociologist and author of the book "Microvoyage : Le paradis à deux pas" (PUF editions).

In Larousse, travel is defined as "the action of going to a relatively distant and foreign place...". Can we then really speak of travel when one is content to go a few steps from home, without a suitcase, and returns in the evening to sleep in one’s own bed?

Yes, because travel is above all a state of mind. Some go very far but, unable to forget their worries, they struggle to disconnect, to extract themselves from their daily lives. They are far from home, but their mind remains at home. Conversely, others are content to stroll in their garden, like Giono, and nonetheless feel as if they have traveled very far. Each day they discover treasures: plants, flowers, butterflies, birds, aerial views, panoramas, etc.

For me, travel is a source of disorientation and wonder. And practicing microtravel every week, I can testify to this: there is no need to go far to feel displaced and amazed. You only need to be attentive to discover new things each time.

Distance, eccentricity, exoticism or discovery are notions traditionally linked to the word "travel"... Notions that are hard to find in microtravel. Should we redefine the very meaning of this word and the ideas associated with it?

It’s all a matter of perspective. It seems to me that, since the Covid crisis, our vision of travel has profoundly changed. During the various lockdowns, we learned — or relearned — to move around in a confined space that we mistakenly thought was familiar. We discovered that we did not really know these places that we nevertheless walked through regularly. We learned to open our eyes. For some, it was a revelation.

Covid therefore marked a turning point, the starting point for many initiatives in favor of local tourism. Personally, I believe one should adopt the mindset of an explorer in all circumstances, and even more so toward what seems familiar. I like to consider myself an "explorer of banality" — or rather of presumed banality.

In reality, provided we make ourselves available, we realize that the world around us is infinitely rich. Microtravel invites us to do just that: to be attentive, to refine our sensitivity, and to welcome what the world — even very close by — has to offer us.

Microtravel invites us to contemplate the sky, to rediscover the details of our daily lives and to truly "inhabit" the places where we have chosen to live.

Do we really tend to underestimate so much the potential discoveries that surround us?

Yes. Most of us take well-trodden paths. Our professional obligations, as well as our family constraints, occupy us to the point of making us forget to be attentive. And if you add the time spent on social networks, that makes us individuals poorly available to observe our surroundings.

Microtravel invites us to contemplate the sky, to rediscover the details of our daily lives and to truly "inhabit" the places where we have chosen to live. The day you realize this, you no longer look at the world around you as before. It is a jubilant experience.

Today, when vacations are mentioned, the first question that arises is: "Where are you going?" A mindset that must be changed at all costs...

It would be above all a matter of freeing ourselves from the idea that vacations necessarily rhyme with tourism, miles traveled or expenses beyond budget. Vacations should above all reintroduce emptiness into our lives: a time to breathe, to relax. We must accept that this interlude can be experienced anywhere.

I regret today this pressure to travel, a pressure that I have dubbed the "comedy of travel." Many feel obliged to leave, to plan, to organize, to book, to invest a lot of money only to discover, ultimately, that they are not truly happy. They are vacationers against their will.

The younger generation — the one that demonstrated in the streets alongside Greta a few years ago — nevertheless does not seem ready to give up its desire for distant trips and discoveries... A paradox?

The desire to travel is an achievement of modernity. What could be more exciting than discovering other cultures, architectures, languages or customs? This experience of shifting perspective is one of our most fascinating pleasures. It will be hard to give it up.

All the public surveys I conducted after the Covid crisis show that the appetite for long-distance tourism has not only not faded, but has actually increased. Perhaps this aspiration reflects a diffuse fear: that the open world we know today might soon be nothing more than a memory. Hence this desire to fully enjoy the joys of travel while borders are open, planes fly, and energy is sufficiently available...

What was the trigger that led you to change your state of mind? Was it motivated by the desire to reduce your carbon footprint, knowing that the tourism sector today represents a significant share of global greenhouse gas emissions?

No, not at all. What pushed me at first was the desire to explore the backstage of the places where I live, as well as the intuition that, very close to home, unsuspected wonders were waiting for me.

The fact that microtravel contributes, in parallel, to reducing the carbon footprint delights me. It is one of the major challenges of our time, and I am, like many, fully aware of it. If pleasure was the initial driving force, let us say that the ecological dimension only reinforces this initial inclination.

Overtourism has profoundly degraded the experience, both for visitors and for inhabitants. It is urgent to give up our herd-like behaviors.

Stressful airports, crowded tourist sites, long flights... Can we still speak of pleasure when we talk about travel?

In some cities, it is becoming increasingly difficult: overtourism has profoundly degraded the experience, both for visitors and for inhabitants. It is urgent to give up our herd-like behaviors.

In reality, there is room everywhere. But our gregarious instinct pushes us toward the most famous, the most publicized, the most "Instagrammed" places. One must have the audacity to escape prefabricated programs that lock us into marked, saturated, exhausting routes. In every city I visit, I go where there is nobody — and I am never disappointed. Never.

At the local level, it is observed that citizens also tend to go to the same places... Could a democratization of microtravel not in turn generate a form of local overtourism?

Yes, it’s a risk — the price of success, in a way. But honestly, once freed from the diktat of "must-see" places, an infinity of spots opens up to us. You simply have to let yourself be carried away.

Is microtravel really as sustainable and low-carbon as claimed?

It seems obvious to me. You go less far, for shorter periods. Of course, I do not think microtravel will ever completely replace long-haul travel, but humanity would benefit from practicing it more often. There is a real challenge here: a challenge of well-being, disconnection, and ecology. Microtravel makes people happy — happy to be fully present in the world. And isn’t that a priority in today’s society?

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