Leave nothing but footprints:

Take nothing but pictures.

I was reminded of this paraphrased quote this week after reading a recent question on Facebook. Alongside a photograph of a beautiful silk kaftan was a simple question asking whether the poster should buy it or not.

It was such a simple question, but one that really made me think about the souvenirs I’ve brought home from my travels over the years and their ethicality.

There was the huge African mask, carefully wrapped in newspaper, that I sent back from Zimbabwe in about 1991, only for it to break in transit!

The heavy wooden footstool I carried home in my luggage from the same trip, however, survived and still sits in my house today, covered with dust in a dark corner, of no use or visibility to man nor beast!

Then there were the hanging frames posted home from Borneo, they also broke, and another frame I optimistically tried to take as hand luggage before being stopped at the airport. It ended up wrapped with enough cling film to wrap the world, (much to my embarrassment!) and reluctantly placed in the hold.

More recently, there was the enormous wooden hippo that came back from Botswana complete with a family of ants hidden inside!

Over the years there have been many such purchases. These days, though, I find myself being a little more selective. Partly because space at home is no longer unlimited, and partly because I’ve realised that the things I treasure most from travelling are often not the physical objects themselves.

That’s not to say I don’t understand the temptation. Part of the joy of travelling is discovering beautiful things that remind you of a place, a moment or a feeling. I also like knowing that, where possible, my money is supporting local makers, artists and businesses and this is where the ethical side of souvenir buying comes in. I try, wherever possible, to buy anything from a local maker. From a market or small stand in the neighbourhood rather than from a hotel shop. I spoke about this here, when discussing how the development of tourism in Victoria Falls is not necessarily compensating the local artists and townsfolk that live there, instead tourists are spending their cash at the large out of town lodges, probably owned by foreigners!

Another point of concern was a comment on the original poster’s request, about being able to buy a similar garment “at home”, via one of the many well-known fast-fashion websites to avoid carrying it back. I found that rather disheartening. If you’re in the country and have the opportunity to buy directly from the maker, a cooperative, or a local seller, it feels far more meaningful to support them there rather than opting for a cheaper online alternative simply to save a few pounds. Often, that small saving can represent a significant difference to the people who made the item.

These days, however, the souvenirs we bring home most often are photographs. After each trip I put together a photo book from Photobox (not an affiliated mention, although if they’d like to send me a freebie, I certainly wouldn’t complain!). They regularly have offers on, so I usually end up spending my souvenir budget on preserving the memories instead. Sometimes, if I’ve managed to take a photograph I particularly love, I’ll even print and frame it.

We do still have a tradition while travelling: we always buy a magnet for our collection and, if we can, a christmas ornament for the tree. I try to buy from local artists or markets, although that’s not always possible.

And if we are going to spend money while we’re away, we’ll often choose to spend it on experiences instead, usually in the form of a really memorable local meal or activity. My stomach probably remembers those trips as clearly as I do.

I don’t regret the souvenirs I’ve bought over the years at all. Some still make me smile every time I see them as they remind me of a moment in time. Others perhaps made more sense in the sunshine of the country where they were bought than they did once they arrived back home. I remember a friend of a friend buying a djellaba at the age of 18, I suspect it saw rather less daylight once he returned to Newcastle!

That said, I still wear baggy trousers bought in Malaysia, Thailand and Indonesia every summer until the elastic eventually gives up. They’re lightweight, comfortable and brilliant for travelling.

Ultimately, souvenirs are incredibly personal. What feels meaningful to one person might not appeal to another, and that’s part of the charm. Some people love filling their homes with reminders of their adventures; others prefer to travel lightly and keep the memories elsewhere.

For me, photographs have become the souvenirs I value most. They capture moments, people and feelings in a way that doesn’t require extra shelf space, although my husband may argue that photo books still count and our wall space is declining! More importantly, they allow me to revisit those memories long after the journey ends, especially now that my memory occasionally needs a little helping hand.