
“Maybe lists could come with a disclaimer and a statute of limitations… only go to XYZ if you keep it a well-guarded family secret for 10 years!”
So Ireland's Top 10 beaches have been named.
The country is "a beachgoer's paradise", Lonely Planet said this week, whittling thousands of coves and strands down to a list featuring classics like Achill Island's Keem Bay, debate-stokers like Killiney Bay and off-radar treats like Ardmore's Ballyquin.
The Top 10 was eye-catching, but what struck me even more when I shared it on Twitter was the people expressing relief that their beloved spots were not included.
"Delighted that none of my favourite beaches are on the list," as one put it.
"As a first-time tourist to Ireland I found those lists helpful for orientation," said another. "But now I use them as a list of what places to avoid."
So are lists like this good or bad?
Lonely Planet names Irelandâs top 10 beaches... what do you think of their picks? #LP #LoveIreland
— @poloconghaile (@poloconghaile) April 6, 2021
https://t.co/DmONncX6qX
It's a travel debate for our Internet-infused times. On the one hand, "good" lists are fun, provide inspiration and argument (be it Ireland's Top 10 gardens or the 50 best Irish rugby players of the Six Nations era). Lonely Planet's also brings positive coverage for Ireland's outdoors at a time when we've lost all overseas visitors.
On the other, our feeds are also swilling with trillions of "bad" lists, cobbled together as clickbait.
Take viral lists of any quality, pour on the petrol of social media, and the result can see hordes of people descending on places without the facilities to cope.
Quite aside from reducing travel to box-ticking, overtourism had become a genuine crisis in places like Venice, Santorini and Dubrovnik prior to the pandemic, and socially-influenced crowds were flooding to spots like Norway's Trolltunga (pictured above), Machu Picchu, the Mona Lisa and Co Fermanagh's Stairway to Heaven. A New Zealand tourism campaign has also poked at the perils of social media in travel, pointing out the queues behind clichéd pictures like the "hat-wearing woman in lavender field".
It's a pandemic problem, too. Last year saw uncomfortable traffic and crowding issues at beauty spots from Barleycove to the Bray to Greystones cliff walk. With no overseas holidays and millions taking to the roads again this July and August, hot-spot snarls are sure to flare up again in summer.
Despite all this, I still think lists have their place. As a travel editor, they're an occupational hazard, but lists can be hugely entertaining to read, share and argue over. We're naturally drawn to 'Top 10s' and 'Bucket Lists', and reflexively dissing them as clickbait seems snobby to me.
If time is spent researching, curating and commissioning a good list (our Alternative Irish Bucket List, for example, was designed to help people avoid crowds), they can play a role not only in providing inspiration, but in featuring off-radar destinations and making tourism more sustainable.
You may not agree with Lonely Planet's list, but writer Fionn Davenport (an occasional contributor to the Irish Independent) did not phone it in.
Nor is the dilemma limited to travel writers. US-based Memoir Tours runs writing retreats in North Mayo, and co-founder and host Craig Stewart has given the issue a lot of thought.
“As much as I would love to keep North Mayo one of the best-kept secrets on the planet, we've chosen it as a destination precisely because of the landscape, the people, the wildness,” he says.
"My more generous side wants to share places that have nourished my soul and sense of adventure… [but] the thought of Downpatrick Head turning into anything like the Cliffs of Moher turns my stomach.”
The company makes a point of keeping its footprint light, connecting with and supporting local communities, and encouraging guests to do the same, he adds.
“So, we actively promote Mayo – and, to be fair, all the West – knowing the uniqueness and wildness of the destinations may not be for everyone, and hoping that it will remain a place where people have to put in some effort to visit.
“Maybe lists could come with a disclaimer and a statute of limitations… only go to XYZ if you keep it a well-guarded family secret for 10 years!”
As we hibernate at home on lockdown, it seems the "bucket list" may also be evolving – away from trophy travel and towards creating more personal memories.
Personally, I feel I took travel for granted in the past and, when the time comes to take off again, plan to make a fresh effort to explore local communities and leave time to get lost. Does it really matter if you've seen those 1,000 things before you die, after all? Small moments matter, too.
I don't think I'm alone.
"Instead of thinking of travel dreams as bucket list items (lofty goals to finish before you die), people are making living lists to fulfil while they are very much alive," journalist Natalie B Compton wrote this week of an emerging post-pandemic travel trend. "It's the carpe diem approach to trip planning.
"Although we may still have to wait for more vaccinations and border openings before we can fully seize the day."
NB: This article was first sent as the ‘Travel Insider' newsletter. It's free, curated by Pól Ó Conghaile, and sent every Wednesday at 7.30pm. You can sign up here.
Online Editors