Tourists wave their smart phones at Saint Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican. Photo / Getty Images
Tourists wave their smart phones at Saint Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican. Photo / Getty Images
Can tourists visit spiritually significant sites in a respectful manner? Arrive with the right intentions and your behaviour should follow suit, writes Jessica Wynne Lockhart
When Jason Heffernan, owner of Backcountry Bliss, decided to launch a guided tour to the top of Manjal Jimalji (Devils Thumb) near Port Douglas, Australia, he knew it was “slightly crazy”. With an elevation gain of around 1200 metres over just five kilometres, it would only appeal to a certain type of traveller. In 2018, his nutty notion was realised when he became the first tour operator granted a Queensland Parks’ permit for the established trail.
What he didn’t anticipate was that four years later, he’d learn that the Eastern Kuku Yalanji people perceive Manjal Jimalji as a sacred site, which should only be accessed with the permission of key elders.
The revelation came as a blow to Heffernan, who’d spent considerable time and money marketing and developing the tour. But Heffernan — who’d previously worked as a tour guide at Uluru; a site that closed access to its summit in 2019, after years of protests — knew what he had to do.
“Out of respect to the Eastern Yalanji people, I decided to bow out,” says Heffernan.
Uluru closed access to its summit in 2019, after years of protests. Photo / Getty Images
Pick up any guidebook from the 80s or 90s and you’ll find clear guidelines for how to behave in spiritually significant spaces, including temples, churches, and mosques. But it’s only more recently that government bodies have begun acknowledging sacred sites in natural environments, including lakes, caves, and mountain summits.
The guidelines for how to behave in tapu places also often have links to safety considerations; for example, it’s estimated that 80 people have perished climbing Mount Taranaki.
Yet, many of these culturally sensitive places remain fully accessible to the public, leaving tourists to determine what’s more important: Satiating their thirst for exploration and ticking off a bucket list item, or respecting the wishes of traditional landowners.
This is made more difficult by the lack of clear information. It’s been a year since Heffernan stopped running tours to the top of Devils Thumb, but Queensland Parks doesn’t make mention of the Eastern Kuku Yalanji’s request on its website.
And in Facebook groups, it’s not unusual to see trampers bragging about bagging peaks such as Mt. Ngāuruhoe, almost always out of ignorance.
Trampers brag about bagging peaks such as Mt. Ngāuruhoe, almost always out of ignorance. Photo / Getty Images
“It’s always a little footnote, like ‘The local indigenous group wishes you would respect this space and not do this hike, but here’s a map,’” says Heffernan, who admits he’s missed the fine print on his own travels.
But even for buildings that are clearly signposted as being spiritually significant—including churches, mosques, and temples—the rules of engagement are changing, as most were written in the days before mass tourism. It’s no longer enough to simply cover your shoulders and avoid eating. You may want to rethink whether you’re truly welcome or whether locals have been forced to open their sacred spaces to visitors out of economic necessity.
Alex Vizcaino, general manager of Authentic Mexico Tours, says overtourism is the reason his company doesn’t take guests to the popular Guadalupe Shrine in Mexico City.
“It is a sacred place of worship,” says Vizcaino. “The waves of tourists overload the shrine, sometimes interrupting masses and other ceremonies.”
That’s just the tip of the iceberg. The quest for all-important selfies abounds in these spaces. In 2017, the American couple behind the now-deleted Instagram account @travelling_butts was detained for mooning the camera at Bangkok’s Wat Arun (Temple of Dawn) in Thailand. In 2019, the Czech Republic’s “Church of Bones” was forced to implement stricter visitation rules, after tourists began manipulating and rearranging bones for photos. Inappropriate photography has also been well-documented at concentration camps, Holocaust memorials, and graveyards.
A couple was detained for mooning the camera at Bangkok’s Wat Arun (Temple of Dawn) in Thailand. Photo / Getty Images
Problems aren’t limited to tourists behaving badly. The very presence of foreigners—even those on their best behaviour—can alter how spiritual ceremonies or festivals are performed, as has been the case at Oaxaca’s Day of the Dead celebrations, which is often conflated with Halloween.
“The festivities in Mexico have become more performative in recent years, with pageants, face painting and parades that have come from more Western interpretations of what Day of the Dead means,” says Carmel Hendry, programme manager for tour company Explore Worldwide, noting that there’s now a parade in Mexico City that didn’t exist before the 2015 James Bond film, Spectre.
That’s not to say that tourists should avoid religious ceremonies or buildings altogether, as they often provide unique insight into a destination’s culture, history, and values systems.
“You can’t limit people who have a desire to visit a church or temple that comes from faith — nor it is fair to prohibit people from admiring the astonishing beauty of the art present at Saint Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican,” says Vizcaino.
Maybe then, it’s not about determining how you should behave in spiritually significant sites, but rather about your intentionality.
If you arrive with the right intentions, your behaviour should follow suit. But that also means reading the fine print and, when possible, seeking permission first—rather than relying on the actions of fellow tourists as your spiritual guide.
