Destination Tourism: More Than the Sea and Pretty Views

This summer, like many before, and like many others, we "wandered" between the coast and the inland. The sea, the sun, and the scent of pine trees – a classic we chose mostly because of the kids. But we also wanted to escape the classic, so we picked inland locations – provided they weren’t too far and reachable by car. We wanted to experience continental natural beauty, fewer crowds, and something different. Here’s what we experienced and learned along the way.

Already the first few days confirmed that a view of the sea, natural beauty, and the horizon alone are not enough. Today, a destination is defined by something deeper – the spirit of the place, its people, and authenticity.

On the coast, we were most drawn to unplanned moments – the kind we didn’t even think about beforehand. Like a local kids' water polo match, which filled even the neighboring village with laughter and cheering. It was clear the community lived for those kids and their sport. Or the local bocce championship, where every shot carried the weight of a Champions League final. That raw, honest energy – not “Instagram spots” or Michelin-starred restaurants – kept us there. We cheered like locals. Just for the record – the winners were the Black Mambas, a team of ladies aged 60+.

That’s when I realized – it’s the locals, those who breathe with the place, who create unforgettable experiences.

On the other hand, inland – we chose a neighboring, less touristy country – offered us a completely different face. It showed us what it looks like when not enough effort is put into a destination. Wild nature, endless greenery, a river, and silence… It sounds idyllic. We wanted to visit off-the-radar waterfalls and go on an adrenaline-filled rafting trip. And we did – a truly beautiful experience of nature, with few tourists around. But along with it, we also saw a lack of tourist facilities, restaurants, souvenirs; trash along the roads; and construction sites where forests should have been. There was hardly any order or infrastructure – and yet, again, it was the people who saved the destination.

Those who pick up trash even when they don’t have to. Who dive during work breaks to clean the river. Who greet you with genuine smiles and kind words, even if you're not their guest, nor of their faith or nationality. Deep down, they might even wish there were no tourists in their village. But despite that, they speak with heart, and you can tell from their words that they love nature and their homeland. And as a bonus, they send you off with a bottle of homemade plum brandy.

In one of our accommodations, we were welcomed with a basket of fresh fruit and a bottle of wine. That small gesture outweighed the lack of equipment – even the absence of hot water. For me, that was enough. Because the little things matter. Effort matters. Not just in the space, but in human connection. A smile, a kind conversation, a helping hand – those are the things that stay with you. And random encounters with people who open their hearts and share the story of a place. You learn about its history, and at the same time you’re reminded that people come before religion, nationality, or age. One beautiful example: in our rafting boat, we had people from nearly every part of the former Yugoslavia – and we got along perfectly and had a great time.

What can destinations learn from my experience?

• Authenticity is not a luxury – it's the greatest asset. A destination that lives for its guests, but even more for itself, attracts without marketing tricks or expensive ads.
• Locals are the best ambassadors of a place. If we support them, they’ll create stories no tourist board can buy.
• Nature is not a resource – it’s a partner. If we don’t protect it, we lose the very reason why people come in the first place.
• The greatest wealth of tourism isn’t hotels, restaurants, or attractions. It’s the people you meet along the way – those who live in the place and shape it through their actions. People are the key to everything. Without them, no destination has a soul – no matter how many stars it has, or how many influencer posts it appears in. That’s why we intentionally chose less hyped-up places this time. Smaller in every way.

I believe that in places like Dubrovnik or Bled, it may be a bit harder for locals to maintain this perspective – but I encourage them to look through the eyes of a tourist and remember that their kindness is what guests will remember most about their vacation.

The tourism of the future won’t advance because of better technology or digital tools. It will grow thanks to the courage to let a place remain what it truly is – and allow visitors to feel that. To be reminded of the past, and of how we once lived in harmony with nature. How health and a healthy environment are priceless.

The real innovation will lie in finding balance – where digital tools support but don’t replace human contact, where systems support sustainability but don’t erase a place’s identity. Open-hearted hosts, thriving communities, and landscapes that breathe deeply – I hope this will be the tourism of tomorrow.