Every year, travel fans and locals alike buzz about Fodor’s “No List”, an unconventional guide that doesn’t spark wanderlust so much as pause and reflection. The 2026 No List is no exception. It highlights places around the world that are under real strain from too many visitors, stirring debate about where and how we travel. Does being on a “No List” mean a destination is off-limits? Not exactly. Think of it as a gentle reality check, not a scolding. Fodor’s editors even call the No List “a reality check wrapped in responsible wanderlust”, a nudge to be mindful, not a ban.
In this guide, we’ll break down what the 2026 list actually says, why overtourism keeps flaring up across the globe, and how travelers can use this knowledge constructively. Rather than scare anyone away from their dream trip, the goal is to help you travel in 2026 with open eyes and smarter choices that benefit both you and the places you visit.
What Fodor’s No List 2026 actually means
Fodor’s No List for 2026 is a shortlist of eight destinations to reconsider visiting (for now). Importantly, it’s not calling for a boycott or forbidding travel. As Fodor’s editors clarify, the No List “is not a call for boycott” but highlights places where tourism is currently placing unsustainable pressures on the land and local communities.
In other words, these are spots that could use a breather. The list’s intention is to encourage travelers to be aware of those pressures and perhaps give those destinations a little rest – or at least approach them more thoughtfully – rather than dropping in as if all is well.
This year’s No List covers a strikingly diverse mix of locations, from a whole continent to a single neighborhood. It includes remote wilderness (Antarctica), entire regions and cities (the Canary Islands; Mexico City), natural treasures (Glacier National Park in Montana), and even urban districts like Montmartre in Paris, where just 30,000 residents are now facing some 11 million visitors a year at the famous Sacré-Cœur Basilica.
Each place was chosen for a reason. Antarctica, for instance, made the list due to its extreme fragility – it saw about 120,000 visitors in 2023-24 and doesn’t need tourists at all to sustain an economy. The Canary Islands are highlighted because record tourism has collided with resource shortages and local pushback (water scarcity and housing protests in the archipelago have reached a critical point).
In Mexico City, an influx of foreign tourists and remote workers has fueled gentrification fears – even sparking protests with slogans like “Mexico for Mexicans” as locals vent frustration over rising rents.
And in Paris’s quaint Montmartre, residents formed associations to protest what they call an “unlivable” influx of crowds, which has driven up real estate 35% in a year and displaced local institutions. These examples show the key themes the 2026 No List wants to draw attention to – overcrowded sites, fragile ecosystems, and communities struggling to stay afloat under tourism pressure.
Interestingly, Fodor’s deliberately left some famous problem spots off the 2026 list. Longtime overtourism poster children like Venice or Barcelona aren’t named this year. That’s not because their issues are solved – far from it. (Venice is still mired in cruise ship crowds; Barcelona is still grappling with housing costs and rallies against mass tourism.)
Rather, Fodor’s editors note that these “usual suspects” tend to dominate the conversation year after year, so in 2026 they stepped aside to shine light on less obvious hotspots in need of attention. The absence of Venice or Bali on this list doesn’t mean those places are “fine now” – it means others, perhaps less famous globally, also need consideration.
The No List is meant to broaden awareness, not just repeat the same checklist. In essence, any destination that puts tourism above all else can face these issues. The No List is a reminder that even if a place is beautiful or beloved, too much tourism can hurt it – and that thoughtful travel choices make a difference. It’s asking us to pause, not permanently avoid: as Fodor’s says, ease up on a spot for now – not forever , until it finds a better balance.
Why overtourism pressures keep rising
If many of these problems sound familiar, it’s because overtourism has been a hot topic for years – and lately, it’s only intensified. After the pandemic lull, global travel roared back in 2023. In fact, travel bookings climbed back near pre-COVID levels, “with many destinations struggling to manage the heightened influx”.
This surge – often dubbed “revenge travel” – meant that in 2024 and 2025, popular places were jam-packed again. Millions of people, grounded for years, all had the same idea to vacation and tick off bucket-list spots, resulting in crowded flights, fully booked hotels, and packed city centers. The sudden release of all that pent-up demand naturally led to crowding issues even in places that thought they had seen it all.
Another modern accelerant of overtourism is social media. Instagram, TikTok, and countless travel blogs can make a hidden corner of the world go viral practically overnight. A picturesque alleyway, a once-quiet waterfall, or a “secret” beach can suddenly find itself on every influencer’s feed – followed by throngs of visitors seeking the exact same photo op.
We’ve watched this happen again and again. The desire to recreate that perfect shot drives tourists to concentrate in the same handful of locations. Dr. Corinna Moebius, a cultural anthropologist who studied urban tourism, noted how in Mexico City people now flock to the top-rated restaurants and “50 Best” list spots, often missing the majority of the city’s authentic food culture.
In short, the internet tends to funnel everyone to the same places, putting a huge burden on those “must-see” attractions while other worthy areas remain quiet.
Economic and industry factors also play a big role. The cruise industry, for example, ramped up operations as travel resumed, bringing bigger ships and more passengers into fragile ports. In places like the Mediterranean and Caribbean, large cruise ships can unload thousands of day-trippers at once, overwhelming small city centers. Santorini, Dubrovnik, and Venice have all struggled with this issue in recent years.
Even new markets are seeing this pattern: Kenya, which is marketing itself as a tourism hub, saw a 164% rise in cruise ship traffic at its coastal ports in 2024 as it chases record visitor numbers. That’s great for business on paper, but without careful limits it strains local infrastructure.
A poignant case from the No List is Isola Sacra, Italy – a quiet coastal district near Rome where authorities approved a massive new cruise port project. Locals and environmentalists have been fighting it since 2010, worried that dredging and construction will wreck delicate wetlands and open the floodgates to yet more tourist traffic toward Rome. It illustrates how capacity is often an afterthought in the race for tourism dollars.
Then there’s the issue of short-term rentals and “digital nomads.” The rise of platforms like Airbnb contributed to overtourism by effectively increasing tourist accommodation in residential neighborhoods. In cities from Lisbon to New York, apartments that once housed locals have been flipped into lucrative vacation rentals, pushing rents up and residents out.
This dynamic has hit places like Mexico City especially hard. During the pandemic, many remote workers from higher-income countries moved in for the lifestyle and lower costs, accelerating a 35% jump in Airbnb listings. In July 2023, tensions boiled over: protesters there took to the streets, some even chanting hostile messages at foreigners, because they felt priced out of their own neighborhoods.
The city’s government belatedly responded with rules capping short-term rentals to 180 nights a year (though tellingly, this cap will only start after the 2026 World Cup tourism rush). A similar struggle is playing out in many popular cities – locals see their housing costs and daily life disrupted by waves of visitors or part-time residents, and they demand action.
From Amsterdam banning new holiday rentals in busy districts to New York clamping down on Airbnb, many policies now aim to curb this side effect of overtourism. Yet enforcement is often tricky, and tourism numbers keep rising, so the pressure remains.
Another reason overtourism persists is that many destinations actively court more visitors even as they suffer the consequences. The economic lure is strong: tourism brings jobs, business, and tax revenue. For instance, the Canary Islands depend on tourism for over one-third of their GDP , and places like Bali or the Maldives are similarly tourism-dependent.
Local authorities often find it hard to say “no” to growth. In fact, some governments subsidize marketing campaigns or sign deals (like Mexico City’s partnership with Airbnb in 2022 to promote remote work tourism ) to attract even more travelers. The result can be a contradictory scenario – on one hand residents protest overcrowding, on the other hand officials advertise to bring in more tourists.
And unless there’s careful planning, the infrastructure (water supply, roads, public transport, waste management, healthcare, etc.) doesn’t expand fast enough to handle the influx. Some places don’t even know their own carrying capacity – as of late 2025, Kenya admitted it lacks data on how many tourists its sites can handle without harm. Without such limits, it’s like hosting a party without knowing the maximum occupancy; things can easily get out of control.
All these factors – the post-lockdown boom, social media hype, cruises and cheap flights, the Airbnb effect, and economic eagerness – feed into a cycle where popular destinations get more popular. In many of the world’s top travel cities, the numbers are staggering.
A recent analysis ranked Orlando as the most “over-touristed” city by ratio, with 36 tourists per resident in a year. Historic European cities like Dubrovnik and Amsterdam followed close behind (30+ visitors per resident). Small wonder locals feel crowded out.
Another ranking looked at sheer crowding and found Macau had about 547,000 visitors per square kilometer, with central Paris at over 442,000 visitors/km² not far behind. These dense crowds put intense strain on housing, transit, and basic services. Even megacities that absorb tourism on a larger scale, like New York or Shanghai, see tens of millions of tourists a year, which can still overwhelm certain hotspots or transit lines.
Notably, seven of the ten highest-ranking cities on that overtourism index were in Europe – places with historic centers that simply weren’t built for modern mass tourism volume. So although overtourism is a global issue, it tends to hit hardest in places that have a perfect storm: famous attractions, limited space, and insufficient controls on visitor numbers. Unless both travelers and policymakers shift course, those pressures will keep rising in 2026 and beyond.
Destinations under strain
Which places are feeling the strain most right now? Various reports and the No List itself shine a spotlight on several. The Canary Islands are a prime example frequently cited by overtourism analysts. This Spanish archipelago welcomed a record 18 million visitors in 2024, surpassing pre-pandemic levels. Tourism is the lifeblood of the Canaries’ economy, contributing over 35% of GDP , yet the surge in people has led to serious local troubles.
By 2025 the islands were suffering their worst drought in over 60 years – water supplies are stretched to the brink when millions of tourists (and their resorts, golf courses, and cruise ships) consume resources on inherently dry islands. Meanwhile, housing and rental prices soared as more homes turned into holiday accommodations, prompting young locals to protest that they can’t afford to live in their own towns.
In April 2025, some 57,000 residents marched in protest across the Canaries, chanting “Canarias tiene un límite” (“the Canary Islands have a limit”). This unprecedented demonstration shows how fed up locals have become with an economy tilted too far toward visitors. The regional government got the message – they’ve since talked about pivoting from “sustainable” tourism to “regenerative” tourism practices.
Plans include new tourist taxes in popular spots and stricter regulation of vacation rentals. The Canaries want to welcome travelers, but on terms that don’t exhaust the islands’ land and community. Whether these measures can turn the tide remains to be seen, but the Canary Islands are clearly at a crossroads between record tourism success and sustainability concerns.
Another destination under acute pressure is Mexico City. This metropolis might not fit the classic image of a quaint tourist town overrun by foreigners – it’s a huge capital with over 20 million people in the metro area. Yet certain central neighborhoods (like Condesa, Roma, and Polanco) have effectively become hotspots for international visitors and long-term tourists, drawn by the city’s vibrant culture and affordable living. Tourism to Mexico City jumped significantly in the past few years, especially as North American travelers embraced it for workcations.
The consequence? A housing crunch and cultural tensions. By mid-2023, residents had organized rallies against what they call the “Airbnb-ification” of their city. During one large protest on July 4, 2023, some demonstrators vandalized tourist-oriented businesses and carried signs saying “gringos out” – a startling display of local anger directed mostly at American visitors.
Protesters blamed short-term rentals for driving up rents and displacing locals, and indeed data showed over 25,000 Airbnbs in the city, a number that had shot up 35% since the pandemic started. Even the President of Mexico (Claudia Sheinbaum, formerly Mexico City’s mayor) weighed in to condemn any xenophobic tone, but acknowledged the underlying discontent.
City authorities responded with new rules to cap short-term rental nights per year and are studying further steps, but they scheduled the enforcement only after the upcoming international events. It’s a delicate balance – Mexico City thrives on being an open, global city, and tourism is important for local businesses, yet unchecked it was altering the fabric of historic neighborhoods and pricing locals out. The turmoil there is a cautionary tale for other popular cities: if tourism growth isn’t managed, it can spark a community backlash.
In Europe, Barcelona has been a poster child of overtourism woes for much of the past decade. This hugely popular Spanish city offers sunny beaches, famed architecture, and nightlife – and has been inundated with visitors accordingly. By the numbers, Barcelona’s medieval center has one of the highest tourist densities in Europe (about 152,000 visitors per square kilometer, as of recent counts).
Residents in areas like the Gothic Quarter and Barceloneta have long complained that their streets feel more like amusement parks than neighborhoods. Anti-tourism graffiti (“Tourist go home!”) and marches have made global headlines. The city government, pressed by locals, took steps: it banned new hotels in the center, heavily restricted short-term rental licenses, and even considered limits on cruise ship arrivals.
These measures have had some effect – the number of illegal Airbnbs, for example, reportedly decreased after crackdowns. But Barcelona still receives around 30 million tourists a year, and in peak summer the crowds have hardly abated. In 2023, the city introduced a tourism sustainability plan and a campaign encouraging more respectful behavior from visitors, rather than simply trying to attract ever more people.
The fact that Barcelona, along with places like Majorca, Venice, and Lisbon, repeatedly shows up in “places to avoid” lists underscores how persistent its issues are. Progress in such cities is slow and hard-won.
Similarly, Amsterdam has struggled with rowdy mass tourism (particularly party tourism), and has responded by limiting alcohol and cannabis sales in parts of the center, banning new tourist shops, and launching a “Stay Away” ad campaign targeting misbehaving visitors. Despite these actions, Amsterdam remains extremely popular and congested in peak season – illustrating that demand often outstrips the speed of reforms.
Beyond cities, natural and cultural heritage sites are under strain too. In 2022 and 2023 we saw multiple examples of iconic attractions crying “enough.” Italy’s famed Cinque Terre hiking trails started requiring reservations to prevent dangerous overcrowding on narrow cliffside paths.
Peru’s Machu Picchu reinstated daily visitor caps and timed entry slots to protect the ancient ruins from wear and tear. Even Mount Everest’s Base Camp was listed by Fodor’s (for 2025) as a place to reconsider, given the environmental degradation and safety issues caused by too many amateur climbers and trekking groups on the mountain.
In the United States, several wildly popular national parks – Glacier National Park (which appears on the 2026 No List) and others like Zion and Arches – have begun implementing ticketed entry systems during peak periods to control traffic jams and trail erosion. Glacier National Park in Montana faces a dual challenge: it’s seeing record visitation in the summertime, even while its namesake glaciers are rapidly melting due to climate change.
That dynamic of “last-chance tourism” (visitors rushing to see something before it’s gone) actually brings more people and impact to an already vulnerable environment. As one park official put it, never in the park’s history have so many threats intersected at once – ecosystem changes, infrastructure strain, and crowds.
When tour buses and cars clog the Going-to-the-Sun Road in Glacier, or when hundreds of hikers line up for an Instagram-famous viewpoint, it detracts from the very wilderness experience people come for. Park authorities are trying to strike a balance by requiring reservations for certain roads or popular trails during high season, encouraging shuttle use, and promoting lesser-known areas of the park to spread out visitor impact. These are positive moves, but they rely on public cooperation to work.
We should also mention emerging hotspots that risk becoming the “next” overtourism story. A report from Time Out in late 2025 flagged places like Albania (with tourism tripling in less than a decade) and Kotor, Montenegro (a small walled town now flooded by cruise ship tourists) as destinations at a tipping point. In Albania’s case, 10 million visitors in 2023 up from 3 million in 2015 means remote beaches and towns are suddenly dealing with masses of people and development pressure.
Kotor, a beautiful medieval bay town, has seen such a cruise boom that UNESCO warned it could endanger the site’s heritage status, much as it did with Venice. Sri Lanka’s southern beaches and Raja Ampat in Indonesia were also cited as once-pristine areas now coping with rapid tourism growth and lacking infrastructure.
The common thread: these places became popular very quickly (often due to geopolitical changes, new flight routes, or social media fame), and they could face the same fate as overcrowded “old favorites” if tourism isn’t managed responsibly from the start. The hope is that by learning from the struggles of Barcelona or Bali, these emerging destinations can chart a more sustainable path before things get out of hand.
How to read “No Lists” without alarm or guilt
When you see headlines about a “No List” or overtourism warnings for your bucket-list destination, it’s easy to feel alarmed – or even guilty about your travel plans. But it’s important to approach these lists calmly and thoughtfully. The point of Fodor’s No List (and others like it) is not to shame travelers, nor to blacklist places forever. It’s to prompt reflection.
If a place you love (or were dreaming of visiting) shows up on such a list, the goal isn’t to make you cancel your trip in shame. Instead, it’s an invitation to inform yourself about what’s happening there and consider how you might visit more conscientiously.
First, don’t panic or take it as an absolute “do not go.” Remember, even Fodor’s emphasizes it’s not calling for boycotts. Locals in these destinations generally aren’t against all tourism – many depend on it. What they want is better tourism, not zero tourism. So rather than feeling guilty for wanting to go, use the No List as a chance to learn more. Why was that place included? Is it facing a specific crisis (drought, overcrowded old town, endangered coral reefs)?
Understanding the context can actually enrich your trip: you’ll be more aware of your surroundings and your impact. For example, knowing that Venice struggles with excessive day-trippers and cruise crowds might encourage you to spend a couple of nights there instead of a hectic day tour – rewarding you with a more peaceful experience and benefiting the local economy in a small way.
It’s also helpful not to take the “No List” too literally. It’s not saying these destinations are horrible or that you personally are bad for going. It’s saying if we keep going the way we have, there will be lasting damage – so maybe we should pause or adjust. Use it as a guide for timing and attitude, rather than a strict ban. Perhaps you visit in the off-season, or choose less busy locations in the same country, or simply arrive informed and respectful of local concerns.
Lists like these can sometimes be sensationalized by the media, but at heart they’re about sustainability. Many of the places flagged (like Antarctica or a small island) are places that can’t indefinitely support unlimited tourism growth without consequences. Taking a break or visiting differently is a way to give those destinations breathing room.
Another thing: avoid the trap of all-or-nothing thinking. It’s not a choice between “go blindly as a tourist” or “never go at all.” There’s a huge middle ground where mindful travel lives.
As one travel writer put it, the answer isn’t to completely avoid popular places, but to “think more wisely before booking an itinerary – after all, tourism remains a vital income stream” for many of them. In practical terms, thinking wisely might mean asking yourself: Will my trip overlap with a major local festival or peak cruise day that amplifies crowding?
Could I support a community-based lodge or tour instead of an international chain? Could I stay an extra day and see some lesser-known attractions, spreading my presence out a bit? These are small adjustments, not burdensome sacrifices, but they can make a meaningful difference.
Finally, reading a No List should inspire empathy, not guilt. Try to put yourself in the shoes of a local resident. If you lived in a town where every week thousands of strangers tromped through your main square, what would you want those visitors to know or do? You’d probably hope they treated your home with care. You might want them to venture beyond just the Instagram spot and appreciate the culture more deeply.
And you’d likely want your city officials to manage tourism so that locals aren’t driven out. By thinking this way, you transform a list of “don’ts” into a set of positive actions. You start to travel as a partner to the destination, not just a consumer of it. That mindset is the antidote to alarmism – instead of feeling unwelcome or defensive, you feel motivated to do right by the places you visit. In sum, use “No Lists” as a learning tool.
They’re not there to discourage travel, but to encourage better travel. With a clear-headed, open-hearted approach, you can still enjoy the places you’ve dreamed of – and your experience will likely be all the richer for being attuned to the local reality.
Choosing smarter alternatives for 2026
One practical way travelers are adapting to overtourism is by seeking smarter alternatives – whether that means visiting a destination at a different time, or picking a different but comparable destination altogether. This isn’t about settling for somewhere boring.
Often, the alternative can be just as delightful, with the added perk of fewer crowds and a more relaxed atmosphere. The key is to think creatively and remain flexible in your travel plans.
Start with timing. Simply shifting when you go can make a world of difference. Many over-visited places have well-defined high seasons when weather is best or holidays peak. If you can target the shoulder season or off-season, you’ll help spread the tourist load and probably enjoy a better experience yourself. Imagine strolling the streets of Florence in November instead of July – you’ll find it easier to chat with locals, get museum tickets, and savor the city without being shoulder-to-shoulder with tour groups.
Or consider a place like Bali: its tourism is highly concentrated in July-August and around Christmas. Coming in, say, February or late September can mean beaches and temples that feel almost serene by comparison, while still offering warm weather. Even popular cities like Paris or Tokyo have noticeably quieter periods (late winter in Paris, or early summer before the school vacations in Tokyo, for example).
By timing your visit thoughtfully, you’re not “avoiding” the destination – you’re enjoying it in a more sustainable way and taking pressure off those peak pinch points. The locals will thank you, and you might discover seasonal charms (festivals, seasonal foods, different landscapes) that high-season travelers miss.
Next, consider alternative destinations that offer similar appeal to the overcrowded hotspots. The world is wonderfully large and often a less famous place can scratch the same itch as the tourist magnet you’re wary of. Love the idea of Italy’s canals and old-world romance? You don’t have to only think of Venice.
Try going just a little further afield: Slovenia’s capital, Ljubljana, is a gem of a city with a river running through its heart, café-lined banks, and even a castle on a hill – all with a tiny fraction of Venice’s tourist volume. As a bonus, Slovenia’s wine country and Alps are at your doorstep, offering an experience that mixes Italian and Slavic culture in a unique way.
Another example: say you dream of a tropical island getaway but keep hearing about crowds damaging coral reefs in Thailand’s Phuket or Phi Phi Islands. You could look to alternative islands or coasts where tourism is developing more slowly. For instance, the island of Lombok next to Bali has gorgeous beaches and rich culture but far fewer visitors than Bali’s Kuta area.
Or if Southeast Asia feels too busy altogether, consider the Indian Ocean coast of Mozambique, where 1,500 miles of coastline offer “sun, sand, and silence” on pristine beaches – very similar bliss to a Thai beach, but on a continent many travelers overlook. National Geographic even suggests Mozambique’s islands as a serene stand-in for Thailand’s overtrodden sands.
Likewise, hikers who find the famous Pacific Crest Trail overcrowded have discovered the new Jordan Trail in the Middle East, which spans 400 miles of stunning landscapes with hardly another soul in sight. For nearly every “bucket-list” destination that’s hitting capacity, there is an alternative that is less discovered and often equally rewarding.
It’s important to note that alternatives aren’t meant as one-to-one “replacements” or secret spots to exploit. They are simply options to broaden your horizons. Sometimes travelers assume if they don’t see the most famous sight, their trip is second-rate. But the reality is, an off-beat itinerary can be just as memorable precisely because it’s different.
The goal here is twofold: to give the busy places a bit of relief, and to give you a chance at a more authentic, less hurried experience. Let’s say you were considering a trip to Dubrovnik, Croatia (famed for its walled old town, but heavily cruised and crowded). You might instead split your time between the lesser-known Dalmatian cities of Šibenik and Zadar, which have stunning historic centers and coastal vibes but far fewer tourists.
You’ll still get your fill of Adriatic views and Venetian-style architecture, with more personal space to boot. Or if everyone you know is flying to overcrowded Iceland these days, you could explore Norway’s Lofoten Islands or Scotland’s Outer Hebrides for similarly jaw-dropping natural beauty with a fraction of the tour buses. The alternatives often feel like how the famous places used to be 20 or 30 years ago – more laid-back, less commercialized, and full of little surprises because they aren’t on every influencer’s radar.
Another smart approach is to look at secondary cities or regions within the same country as the popular site. For example, France draws millions to Paris and the Riviera, but there are wonderful smaller cities like Lyon, Bordeaux, or Toulouse that offer incredible food, architecture, and culture without the Paris crowds.
If you were eyeing the overrun temples of Angkor Wat in Cambodia, consider heading to the country’s south coast and hinterlands where you can visit equally fascinating Khmer temples at Sambor Prei Kuk or enjoy nature in Cardamom Mountains – supporting communities that don’t often see tourism.
If the goal was a party on a famous Spanish island like Ibiza (which has struggled with summer overcrowding), you might find an alternative scene on Menorca or one of the smaller Canary Islands like La Palma, where local culture is strong and visitor numbers are more manageable. In doing so, you’re also helping to spread tourism benefits more evenly.
Many countries have “honeypot” locations that get all the traffic while other areas languish economically. By choosing a less-visited locale, your tourist dollars can bolster those communities and take a little pressure off the oversaturated areas.
Lastly, keep an eye on destinations that actively welcome more tourists. Not every place is groaning under the weight of visitor numbers; some are actually eager for them. Certain countries in Central Asia, parts of Africa, or lesser-traveled regions of Europe and the Americas are investing in tourism and can accommodate growth.
For example, Uzbekistan has been promoting the Silk Road cities (Samarkand, Bukhara) as they improve tourist infrastructure – these places have rich history and, at least for now, far fewer tourists than equivalent sites in Western Europe. Or consider a country like Colombia: it has become safer and more popular in recent years, but outside a couple of hotspots, it’s not overrun.
Visiting places that genuinely want more visitors can be a rewarding experience as you’re often received warmly and you help support their nascent tourism economies. Just be mindful to travel sustainably from the get-go, so these rising destinations can learn from others’ mistakes and grow without losing what makes them special.
Meanwhile, the classic sights will still be there in the future – perhaps in better shape and less crowded if enough of us give them a break now. In 2026, challenge yourself to swap at least one overly popular destination on your list for a “smarter alternative.” You may end up with a more unique story to tell, and you’ll certainly be doing the travel world a small good deed by spreading out the love.
How to visit still-popular places responsibly
Avoiding crowds altogether isn’t always possible (or desirable). You might have your heart set on a very popular destination that you simply don’t want to miss – and that’s okay. The good news is, you can visit popular places and still be a responsible, respectful traveler. It just takes a bit more planning and awareness. Here are some tips to travel thoughtfully even in high-pressure destinations:
Choose your timing and pace carefully. If you can, steer clear of the absolute peak periods in a destination. That might mean going to a famous beach town on a weekday instead of the weekend, or visiting a city right after a big festival rather than during it.
If peak season is unavoidable, then plan your day strategically. For example, many cruise ship day-trippers swarm places between 10am and 4pm – so why not explore early in the morning or later in the evening? You’ll often experience a different, calmer side of the destination.
In places like Venice or Dubrovnik, evenings after the cruise crowds depart are magical and much emptier. Similarly, get up for that sunrise hike; not only will you beat the heat, you’ll share the trail with far fewer people. Slowing down your travel pace is another way to be responsible. Instead of blitzing through five cities in five days (which often means you’re just skimming the surface and contributing to crowds at the biggest tourist spots), consider spending longer in one region.
When you stay a few nights, you have time to see the marquee attractions during off-peak hours and spend the rest of your days discovering neighborhood parks, markets, and restaurants. You won’t be moving with the herds constantly. Plus, staying longer in one place means you’re not just a day-tripper who uses infrastructure without contributing much in return – you’ll be paying lodging taxes, eating at local cafes, using local transport, and generally putting money into the community. Locals notice and appreciate that.
In the Swiss Alps’ Jungfrau Region, for instance, business owners observed that the surge in day visitors (who come, take the cable car up, snap photos, and leave) brought wear and tear but little benefit to locals’ income. By contrast, guests who stay a night or two support small hotels, shops and guides, and are seen as part of the community, however briefly. So if you can, avoid being just part of the daily “in-and-out” tour bus crowd.
Support local initiatives and respect rules. Many popular destinations have introduced measures to manage tourism – these could be permit systems, visitor caps, fees, or simply guidelines for behavior. As a responsible visitor, make it a point to comply with these. If a city requires you to pre-book a time slot for a famous museum or a hiking trail requires a permit, do it gladly rather than trying to find a workaround.
These rules are usually put in place to prevent chaos and preserve the site, and by respecting them you’re helping the system work as intended. Also, consider using any sustainable tourism options provided. For example, some cities have set up park-and-ride schemes or free shuttle buses from outside parking lots to keep cars out of congested centers. Opt for those.
In many Alpine destinations, locals strongly encourage using public transport – the Swiss Alps famously have one of the world’s best railway networks, and local residents urge visitors to arrive by train or bus rather than clogging mountain roads with cars.
Heeding this advice reduces traffic and pollution. If a place like Maya Bay in Thailand has daily limits on how many snorkelers can enter the bay (to protect the coral), try to be one of the people who follows the rules and goes with a licensed, eco-aware tour operator, rather than an unofficial boat that sneaks you in. By aligning with the destination’s management efforts, you help amplify their positive impact.
Be culturally sensitive and courteous. This might sound like common sense, but it’s crucial in places feeling tourism fatigue. Small gestures can rebuild some goodwill. Learn a few words of the local language – a hello, please, and thank you go a long way, especially in places where tourists often act entitled. Dress appropriately for the culture (and for religious sites) so locals don’t feel their way of life is being disrespected.
In Bali, for example, authorities have been cracking down on tourists who disrespect temple dress codes or sacred sites. As a responsible traveler, you’d wear the sarong at the temple without being asked, and follow any local etiquette that’s expected. Also, be mindful of noise and behavior, especially if you’re staying in a residential area. The rise of tourist apartments in cities means more visitors are surrounded by locals who have to work and live there.
Partying loudly at midnight on a Tuesday in a quiet apartment block is a quick way to deepen resentment. Treat the neighborhood as you would your own back home. Essentially, don’t act like you own the place – act like you’re a guest in someone’s home, which in a sense you are. Ask before taking photos of people (many locals in tourist hotspots feel like exhibits in strangers’ social media feeds).
Dispose of your litter properly and recycle if facilities exist, since trash is a big issue in crowded spots. These small courtesies won’t solve overtourism, but they do make a difference in how locals perceive travelers day-to-day. It turns the interaction from a transactional one (tourist vs. service provider) to a human one (guest and host).
Spread out your spending and interactions. In heavily visited places, it’s easy to gravitate to the top-rated restaurants on TripAdvisor or the shops right next to the main attraction. But often those are big chains or tourist traps that don’t benefit local residents much. A responsible approach is to seek out some locally owned businesses a bit off the beaten path.
Maybe have dinner at a family-run trattoria on a side street in Rome rather than the overbooked spot by the Trevi Fountain. Or buy souvenirs directly from artisans if possible instead of the identical magnet shops that line the cruise port. This way, your presence has a more positive effect. In many overtouristed cities, locals complain that tourists fill up the sidewalks but hardly contribute to the real local economy because they stay in international hotels, eat at tourist restaurants, and leave by evening (or on cruise ships).
Buck that trend: stay in a guesthouse or B&B run by residents, take a walking tour led by a local guide who can share their perspective, purchase produce from a farmers’ market for a picnic. Not only will you get a more authentic taste of the place, you’ll be ensuring more of your money goes to the community that is hosting you. It’s a virtuous cycle – when locals see tangible benefits from tourism, they are more welcoming and invested in keeping their destination special.
Travel in smaller groups if you can. Large tour groups contribute heavily to the feeling of overtourism (30 people following a flag and blocking a street can aggravate anyone). If you have a choice, traveling with just a few companions or solo allows you to integrate more quietly. You can stay in smaller inns, slip into local eateries, and generally move without causing a big footprint.
Some experiences that are off-limits to big groups (like a small winery tour or a cooking class in someone’s home) become accessible when you’re not part of a massive contingent. There’s a trend now toward “micro-tourism” – smaller group, low-impact travel that emphasizes quality of experience over quantity of sights. Embracing that makes you a considerate visitor.
It doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the Eiffel Tower or the beaches of Phuket – it means you might enjoy them at dawn, or enjoy them and then venture to a lesser-known café in the 15th arrondissement, or simply enjoy them with the understanding that you’re one of many guests and thus tread a bit carefully. Responsible travel is not about perfection; it’s about improvement.
If each of us makes even modest adjustments – like one less car rental, one more local restaurant, one off-season trip – collectively it can alleviate some of the strain on overtouristed destinations. And you’ll likely find your travel experience is richer and more meaningful for it. After all, when you engage more deeply and respectfully with a place, it tends to reveal more of itself to you.
The Takeaway
Traveling thoughtfully isn’t about limiting your freedom – it’s about enriching your journey. What Fodor’s No List 2026 ultimately reminds us is that every destination we love is someone else’s home, or someone else’s sanctuary, or a one-of-a-kind treasure of nature. By being aware of tourism’s impact, we can make choices that ensure those homes and treasures remain welcoming and wonderful for generations to come. This isn’t a call to avoid travel; it’s a call to travel better. In 2026, the trend is shifting from simply visiting places to truly valuing places – their people, culture, and environment.
If a location is under pressure, you have options: maybe give it a rest this year and discover a new favorite elsewhere, or visit in a way that eases the load. By doing so, you not only help that destination recover its balance, but you also open yourself up to experiences you might have overlooked. The world is full of unsung marvels and off-peak delights waiting for curious travelers. And if you do visit a perennial hot spot, your mindfulness – whether it’s spending an extra day, venturing off the beaten path, or simply engaging with locals respectfully – can turn what would be a cookie-cutter trip into something far more meaningful.
Ultimately, lists like Fodor’s are not about telling you where not to go. They’re about inspiring a conversation on how we can all be better guests on this planet. The fact that more travelers are asking these questions – “Should I rethink this trip? How can I travel in a more positive way?” – is a good sign. It means we care about the impact of our adventures. And caring is the first step toward change.
So as you plan your 2026 travels, use the No List as one tool among many. Maybe it nudges you to swap one destination for another, or to tweak your itinerary for a beloved place. Maybe it simply makes you pause for a moment of gratitude and responsibility as you pack your bags. All of that adds up. Thoughtful travel choices, made by many, have a collective power: they can help preserve the magic of the places we adore, while also creating richer and more rewarding experiences for us as travelers. In the end, that’s a journey worth embarking on – one where we not only see the world, but also ensure our love for it doesn’t love it to death. Safe and happy travels!
FAQ
Q1. Does the “No List” mean I should cancel my trip?
No. The No List is not a call to cancel plans. It is a reminder to travel mindfully. You can still visit destinations on the list, but consider going at calmer times, staying longer, or supporting local initiatives. The goal is thoughtful travel, not avoidance.
Q2. Why do the same destinations appear again and again in overtourism discussions?
Because the root issues take years to fix. Cities like Barcelona, Venice, and Bali face long-term pressures such as housing shortages, overcrowded streets, and strained infrastructure. Even with new rules, growing global tourism keeps them in the spotlight. Until visitor numbers match local capacity, these places will continue to appear in overtourism debates.
Q3. How do I know if a place is becoming overcrowded?
Look for signs such as local protests, frequent news reports about strain, new tourist taxes, required reservations, or limits on rentals and hotels. High tourist-to-resident ratios or density figures also indicate stress. If the streets feel dominated by tours and souvenir stalls rather than everyday life, crowds may be too heavy.
Q4. Are alternatives always better than the famous spots?
Often yes. Alternatives can offer similar scenery or culture without the crowding. Many travelers prefer these quieter places. However, alternatives can also become overcrowded if too many people flock to them. Treat them responsibly and support local communities so they remain enjoyable.
Q5. Is overtourism the same everywhere, or do different places have different issues?
The core issue is too many visitors for local capacity, but the effects vary. Cities may face housing pressure, noise, and congestion. Islands may struggle with water shortages or coral damage. National parks may experience trail erosion or wildlife disruption. Each destination has unique vulnerabilities.
Q6. How can I minimize my impact while still enjoying my trip?
Travel in shoulder seasons, stay longer, use public transport, reduce waste, support local businesses, and respect cultural norms. Choose eco-friendly hotels, stick to marked trails, conserve water in fragile areas, and avoid being a quick “hit and run” visitor. These steps lower your footprint and often enhance your experience.
Q7. Does overtourism affect local residents more than tourists?
Yes. Residents experience rental inflation, crowded public spaces, noise, and pressure on services year-round. Tourists may feel inconvenience during peak times, but locals live with these stresses every day. Responsible travel helps reduce these impacts.
Q8. What is carrying capacity and why does it matter?
Carrying capacity refers to the number of visitors a place can sustain without harming its environment, culture, or community. If a destination exceeds that limit, the experience deteriorates for both locals and travelers. Many cities and parks are now studying their capacity to set limits and manage crowds.
Q9. Do new rules like tourist taxes and reservation systems actually help?
Yes, they can. Fees discourage hit-and-run visits and help fund local infrastructure. Reservation systems spread crowds across time. Limits on rentals protect housing for residents. These policies do not solve everything, but they help balance tourism with local needs.
Q10. What is the best mindset for visiting a popular place responsibly?
Go with awareness. Respect residents, choose off-peak times, spend money locally, take care of the environment, and slow down. Aim to leave the destination as beautiful and livable as you found it. Responsible travel leads to better experiences for everyone.
Research Notes
To explore how destinations are responding to overtourism and how travelers can make more thoughtful choices, I drew on a mix of reporting, data, and expert analysis. Fodor’s No List 2026, along with earlier insights from its 2025 edition, helped frame which places are facing the greatest pressure and why certain regions are encouraging visitors to look elsewhere. Time Out’s coverage offered additional context on the social and environmental impact of heavy tourism, as well as practical ways travelers can reduce strain on popular areas.
Tourism Analytics contributed valuable data through its 2025 Overtourism Index, which helped quantify crowding and infrastructure stress across different destinations. I also reviewed Reuters reporting on community-led protests in the Canary Islands, and National Geographic’s guidance on alternative destinations that spread travel more evenly.
Together, these sources provided a clearer view of how overtourism is evolving and what travelers can do to make better-informed, lower-impact choices.