đ From Selfies to Safaris: What Animal Tourism Says About Us
- Marianna KĆrösi
- Nov 5
- 3 min read
I often joke that Hana, my little Shiba Inu, is the real traveller in the family. Sheâs endlessly curious, fearless around new smells, and seems to understand the concept of adventure far better than I do. When we travel, she gets to explore on her own terms â whether itâs a mountain trail in Austria or a sunny terrace in Italy.

But the more we travel together, the more I notice how many animals donât get to make that choice.
While Hana sniffs around freely, others perform. They carry tourists, pose for selfies, or swim in circles for entertainment. Itâs a strange contrast â and maybe itâs because I live with an animal that Iâve become more aware of this silent part of tourism: the one that happens at the expense of animals.
đ What Animal Tourism Really Looks Like
The term animal tourism sounds innocent â who doesnât want to see wildlife while travelling? But the reality is more complex.
According to a World Animal Protection report, over 550,000 wild animals are being exploited in the global tourism industry today. From elephant rides in Asia to dolphin shows in resort pools, the same pattern repeats: animals are turned into attractions, often through stressful training or poor living conditions.
Even activities that seem harmless â taking a selfie with a tiger, visiting a âsloth cafĂ©,â or feeding monkeys â can have hidden consequences. Behind those cute photos are broken routines, lost habitats, and animals that have learned to survive by obeying.
And yet, itâs easy to understand why travellers are drawn to them. We love animals. They make us feel connected to something pure and wild, a side of nature that daily life often hides from us. But sometimes, that love becomes a form of possession â a âmust-see,â a âmust-capture,â or a bucket-list experience.
đŸ With Animals, Not For Them
I share photos of Hana online â sheâs part of my life and my travels. But Iâve become more conscious of the fine line between sharing and showcasing. She's not a brand, she's just our Hana.
Yes, she gets attention â people smile at her, they ask where weâve been. But I donât travel for her fame, and I donât make money from her image. Sheâs my companion, not my content.
That awareness matters, because the same principle applies to all animals in tourism. Whether itâs a camel ride in the desert, a parrot perched on a shoulder, or a staged wildlife photo â the question is the same: Who really benefits from this?
đż And how does it connect with Sustainable Tourism?
Sustainable tourism isnât just about plastic-free hotels or low-carbon transport. Itâs also about respecting every living being involved in our journeys.
When we choose ethical wildlife experiences â like observing animals in the wild, visiting reputable sanctuaries, or supporting conservation parks â we make a small but meaningful difference.
According to the World Travel & Tourism Council (WTTC) and Oxford Economics, nearly 80% of global tourists say they prefer to engage with wildlife in ethical, non-exploitative ways. Itâs a hopeful sign that the industry is slowly shifting, from spectacle to stewardship.
There are still grey zones, of course. Not every âsanctuaryâ is truly ethical, and not every safari is sustainable. But the direction we move in matters â and awareness is the first step.
đŹ A Reflection to Carry
What does animal tourism say about us? Maybe that weâre curious. That we crave connection with nature. But also that we often mistake admiration for ownership.
Travelling with Hana has taught me something subtle yet powerful: freedom is what makes an animal beautiful. Watching her run freely, untrained and unposed, is the purest reminder of what every creature deserves.
So next time we travel, maybe the most sustainable souvenir we can bring home is a story â one that celebrates life without capturing it.


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