The coastal town of Varkala in Kerala played host from October 17 to 19 to Yaanam 2025, the country’s first dedicated travel literary festival, organised by Kerala Tourism. The event brought together authors, travel vloggers, influencers, and filmmakers from India and abroad to celebrate “Words and Wanderlust” — but with a deeper emphasis on sustainable, inclusive and culturally respectful tourism.
At the inauguration, minister for general education and labour V Sivankutty described it as “a pioneering initiative … for bringing together travel writers, social media influencers and artists to share their experience” and showing “experiential tourism for which Kerala is renowned.”
Meanwhile, tourism minister PA Mohamed Riyas affirmed that Yaanam will become an annual feature of Kerala Tourism, adding that the festival will showcase the diverse offerings of Kerala to a global audience and strengthen destination management that “turns destination management into cultural stewardship.”
Several sessions at the festival tackled overtourism, ecological degradation, and the role of travel literature in giving voice to lesser-known stories.
In “Desert Crossings: Stories of Migration and Travel”, writer V Muzafer Ahamed challenged popular Western notions of deserts, saying, “Deserts are not all barren and dead. Their ecology and culture are as sustainable, inclusive and fascinating as that of Kerala.” He stressed that, like any ecosystem, deserts also face problems of degradation due to human encroachment, and the term “desertification” often misses the nuance. Ahamed lauded the festival’s cultural significance in creating a platform for travel writers to share deeper reflections.
Travel journalist and author Shehan Karunatilaka—winner of the Booker Prize—explored the broad possibilities of travel writing. “Travel writing can be anything, it can be political, subjective, and sometimes it reveals who the author really is rather than the destination.”
Such conversations underscored the power of narrative to influence how destinations are perceived — and how they respond to visitor pressures.
In a separate panel, Tibetan activist and writer Tenzin Tsundue sounded a strong caution about tourism’s impact on traditional communities: “Lives and traditional livelihoods of local communities in tourist destinations like the Himalayas and Uttarakhand are disrupted due to overflow of tourists. Big structures are being constructed in traditional farmlands without considering the ecological impacts.” He urged travellers to be conscious, thoughtful, and to travel with purpose rather than consumption.
Tsundue, known for his trademark red headband—a symbol of his lifelong commitment to Tibet’s freedom—spoke about identity, exile, and the urgent need for mindful travel in an exclusive conversation with Outlook Traveller.
“We Tibetans still have nowhere to call home. I was born in Manali,” he said, “but I still don’t have citizenship—neither of India nor of Tibet.” When Tibetans first came to India in the 1950s, they were allowed to stay as foreigners, under the assumption that they would return soon. “That’s how His Holiness the Dalai Lama and thousands of Tibetans were registered under the Foreigners Act. But now, three generations later, we are still here—without a country.”
Despite being born on Indian soil, Tsundue and other Tibetans remain stateless because they have applied for refugee status. “Our documents mention ‘place of origin: Tibet’. It’s a diplomatic verdict,” he said. “We are foreigners in the country we were born in.” Yet, the hope of returning to Tibet sustains them. “We continue our freedom struggle through the Tibetan government-in-exile in Dharamshala, through schools and NGOs across India.”
When he travels abroad, Tsundue carries an Identity Certificate—a grey-blue booklet issued by the Government of India to people without citizenship. “It’s not a passport,” he explained. “Many immigration officers don’t recognise it. They flip through it, ask who issued it. It’s awkward, sometimes humiliating. But wherever I go, when I say I’m Tibetan, people know something terrible happened to us. That truth is our real recognition.”
Tsundue’s words turn sharper when he speaks of Tibet today. “On the surface, China has built roads, schools, and hospitals. But beneath that, they are mining our mountains for lithium, gold, and rare earths. Nomads and farmers are being pushed off ancestral lands. The world benefits from those minerals—so in a way, everyone profits from our loss.”
Yet, he sees change brewing. “China’s dominance is now being questioned globally. The West has realised its dependency, and that gives us some hope. Tibet’s struggle isn’t just ours anymore—it’s part of the world’s fight for democracy and freedom.”
Closer home, Tsundue worries about the Himalayas. “Over-tourism is destroying the mountains,” he said. “People go to places like Manali or Dharamshala just to click selfies. It’s mindless consumerism. In some towns, there are more tourists than locals, and the pressure on water and roads is unbearable. We need conscious, eco-friendly travel—travel to learn, not to show off.”
Tsundue has spent his life voicing the story of a homeland erased from maps yet alive in memory. His latest book, Nowhere to Call Home, draws from this lifelong tension.
He paused before concluding, his voice low but resolute. “Whether it’s the Himalayas or Tibet, it’s the same fight—to protect what gives us life. Without that awareness, we’ll all be homeless.”
One of the standout sessions, titled “Grit, Gravel and Gear”, featured expeditionary cyclist and author Dhruv Bogra, who recounted his 400-day solo cycling odyssey from the Arctic to the Andes: 15,000 km across 10 countries, two continents and four time zones.
“There are a lot of things involved in dealing with your fears. You have to brave the weather conditions and face challenging landscapes confidently,” he remarked. Bogra detailed his prep: endurance training, wilderness survival lessons, Spanish lessons, and the harsh first day when the temperature dipped to –5 degrees Celsius on the Dalton Highway in Alaska, where he mentions, “There wasn’t any water to refill, replenish food and mobile network for almost ten days.”
From desert stretches in Baja to high‐altitude Peru (3,000 metres and above), his journey is a metaphor for how travel can intimately connect with ecology, terrain, and human resilience.
Another session about destinations featured filmmaker Priya Ganapathy, writer Anurag Mallick and food expert Karen Anand, all echoing the need to go beyond the mainstream. According to Ganapathy, Kerala has “successfully balanced both luxury and budget segments,” while Mallick pointed to untapped richness in North Kerala’s cultural traditions like Theyyam.
Not merely visiting, but engaging with people, places and heritage was stressed by actress-vlogger Anumol. “Travel is not just about visiting places but also about meeting people, understanding their lives, and immersing oneself in those experiences,” she said.
This echoed the festival’s broader message: that travel must mean connection, not consumption.
Veteran wildlife conservation photographer Balan Madhavan spoke to Outlook Traveller with the calm intensity of someone who has seen Kerala transform through his lens. A former associate of the Royal Photographic Society and senior fellow of the International League of Conservation Photographers (ILCP), Madhavan began his journey in 1987 — a time when photography in Kerala was still tethered to film rolls and patience. As the son of a forest officer, his fascination with the wild was almost inevitable.
“I started photographing nature because that’s what I knew best,” he says. “From 1992 to 2001, I shot thousands of images for Kerala Tourism. Almost 95 per cent of the pictures used in the early ‘God’s Own Country’ campaigns were mine.” His images helped define the state’s global identity — the misty tea gardens of Munnar, the quiet backwaters, the houseboats. Yet, today, he admits that success carries a shadow. “I feel guilty for what happened to Munnar. Back then, it was a sleepy, pristine town. Now it’s overrun. We never imagined our work could trigger uncontrolled tourism.”
Over the years, Madhavan has seen Kerala’s forests retain much of their green cover — though he’s quick to clarify that much of it includes rubber plantations, not natural forests. “Our forest department is strong. But the problem is the pressure to open up protected areas for tourism. Every waterfall has become an eco-tourism point just to generate money.”
He believes this comes at a cost. “You can’t have real conservation without limits. We must conduct carrying capacity studies — how many visitors a park can sustain without damaging it. Otherwise, you end up with habituated animals that no longer behave naturally.”
Madhavan’s voice sharpens when the conversation turns to Kerala’s elephants. “There are about 500 captive elephants here, and many are suffering. It’s a huge business. It’s cruelty masked as culture.”
These hard truths shaped his evolution from nature photographer to conservationist. “A tribal watcher once asked me, ‘Balan sir, you got fame from our Periyar. What have you given back?’ That hit me hard. Since then, my photography has had a purpose — to give back to nature.”
He now spends much of his time mentoring young photographers and addressing schools. “We cannot still make oxygen or fresh water,” he reminds them. “So it’s your turn to care for the planet. Mine is almost over. But you still have time to make things right.”
Yaanam 2025 emerged as more than a gathering of travel enthusiasts—it positioned travel-writing and travel culture as catalysts for sustainable tourism and environmental awareness. The event encouraged reflecting on how destinations like Kerala (with its rich biodiversity, 44 rivers and dual-monsoon climate) can be models for conscious travel.
The festival bridged adventure, culture, and activism — reminding that travel and conservation are deeply interconnected. Overtourism, environmental impact and the compromise of local livelihoods were not sidelined; instead, they were placed centre-stage in conversations about the future of travel.
For Kerala Tourism, the festival acts as a timely signal: to move from tourism as mere attraction to tourism as stewardship. As minister Riyas put it, the initiative aims to introduce the state “before passionate travellers… besides depicting Kerala through their writings and captivating visuals.”
1. What is Yaanam 2025 in Kerala?
Yaanam 2025 is India’s first travel-literary festival, held in Varkala, Kerala, from October 17–19, 2025. Organised by Kerala Tourism, it celebrates the intersection of travel, storytelling, and sustainability — bringing together writers, photographers, vloggers, and environmentalists.
2. Who participated in Yaanam 2025?
The festival featured Booker Prize winner Shehan Karunatilaka, Malayalam author K.R. Meera, Tibetan activist Tenzin Tsundue, wildlife photographer Balan Madhavan, and several travel writers and influencers including Priya Ganapathy, Anurag Mallick, and Karen Anand.
3. What were the key themes discussed at Yaanam 2025?
Key sessions explored sustainable tourism, overtourism, wildlife conservation, community-based travel, and mindful journeys. Speakers highlighted the need to balance economic growth with ecological preservation and cultural respect.
4. Why is Yaanam 2025 important for Kerala Tourism?
Yaanam 2025 reflects Kerala’s shift from mass tourism to mindful tourism, aligning travel with ecological awareness, community engagement, and cultural storytelling. It positions Kerala as a global model for sustainable tourism and literary dialogue.
5. Will Yaanam become an annual festival?
Yes. Tourism Minister P.A. Mohamed Riyas announced that Yaanam will be an annual event, making it a recurring platform to promote eco-conscious travel writing and showcase Kerala’s diverse heritage to the world.
