When the City Comes to the Mountains and Leaves More Than Trash

Even after two months of living in Bir, Himachal Pradesh, I never realised that there were children and there were elders. But their youth was nowhere to be seen.

Until someone who works with the local community brought it up. In a reflex, I thought they must’ve left for college or jobs — a common story across small Indian towns. Turns out, it’s something deeper. Something that deserves our attention.

The youth weren’t just leaving for opportunities. They were leaving because they no longer saw value in the lives their families had lived for generations.

Farming. Building. Staying rooted.

A shinier dream is slowly replacing that life, one they see in us: MacBooks, city-style cafés, and loaded paychecks.

How ironic? We escape to the mountains in search of simplicity and grounding, while those who live here are stepping away from it.

And what’s more unsettling is this: somewhere in the process of romanticising mountain life, we unknowingly make the life they’ve lived — one of simplicity, resilience, and deep-rooted knowledge — seem “less than.”

By bringing in our flashy lifestyles and comfort-driven expectations, we shift something far more delicate than the landscape. This is the invisible footprint we often don’t talk about and it’s high time we do.

Also read: Why I was spending months in Bir

Conscious Travel in the Mountains: What We Don’t See

Most conversations around conscious travel focus on waste, plastic, and pollution — the tangible, visible aftermath of tourism. But what I recently learned is that there’s something more subtle: the aspirational impact.

We don’t just leave behind trash. We leave behind ideas. Dreams. Comparison.

We ask for WiFi. Expect “work-friendly” cafés. Praise fancy and modern properties. And unknowingly, we reward those who cater to these city-bred comforts.

The result? Locals begin leasing their land to build boutique stays rather than farming it. Youth start associating success with what visitors bring — not what their land has taught them for centuries. We arrive in search of slow living and authenticity, and end up altering the very culture that makes this place magical.

How Can We Make a Positive Impact?

If we truly care about conscious travel in the mountains, we need to go beyond waste segregation and Instagrammable homestays. Here are a few gentle shifts we can make:

• Choose local over luxury: Stay in homestays that are truly the home of a local, eat at family-run dhabas, and avoid demanding city-style services that strain local resources.
• Talk to people, not just take pictures of them: Understand their stories, both the good and the difficult parts.
• Resist comparing lifestyles: We use terms like ‘accessibility’ and ‘remote-work-friendly’, and they feel so harmless. We don’t have to take development to them without even understanding that their “basic” is often full of wisdom and self-sufficiency.
• Support local skills: When collecting souvenirs, go beyond those mass-produced fridge magnets and keychains. Buy from local artists, choose handmade items, and attend local workshops.

This is not a guilt trip or a blame game. I’m as much a part of the problem, considering I also spent a good chunk of time and money in modern cafes that were comfortable to work from.

It’s a reflection.

If we’re privileged enough to travel, we can also choose to travel with care.

Because conscious travel in the mountains isn’t just about what we carry in, but what we leave behind. And if we’re not careful, we might take away more than we give — including the very spirit of the mountains we so deeply admire.