2 days ago
Lonely Planet just published its first LGBTQ guide. Why now?
In the half-century since its first travel guide, 'Across Asia on the Cheap,' Lonely Planet has grown into a global behemoth, having sold 150 million printed guides advising budget travellers on where to go, stay and eat in destinations ranging from Scandinavia to South Africa. But until now the company had never published a stand-alone guide for LGBTQ travellers.
'The LGBTQ+ Travel Guide,' by Alicia Valenski, features more than 50 queer-friendly destinations in a coffee-table-size book, a departure from the company's usual packable paperbacks. Also unlike the usual guides, this one explores destinations such as Brooklyn, Berlin and Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, entirely through local voices.
Lonely Planet, which has been including a section on LGBTQ travel in its guidebooks for decades, is a strong player in digital guides through its website and app.
Why was this the moment to debut a glossy guidebook that would barely fit into most backpacks?
I spoke to Valenski, 32, in late April in New York.
Why publish an LGBTQ travel guide now?
Lonely Planet was poised to publish a book about queer travel in 2019 or 2020. And then the world stopped. And, so, once they were ready to pick it back up, it was like 2022 or 2023.
And the biggest thing that keeps coming up with people is, this is such a unique format for a book. It's either a guidebook or a coffee-table book. Having a book that is by the queer community, for the queer community, in this moment, feels so empowering.
Why publish in this format?
I wanted to strike that balance between 'This will plan your trip for you,' versus if you texted a friend that you knew lived in the city: 'Hey, I'm coming to New York. I'm coming to Amsterdam or Madrid. Where should I go while I'm there?'
You could skim this and just look at the bold points of interest, look at the map, look at the need-to-know info. Or you can read the story of the people who are giving you these recommendations, why they live there. So it's kind of a Choose Your Own Adventure book.
Who is your audience?
I was writing it as though it was to a friend. We are giving you recommendations so you can feel happy, safe and comfortable going to these places.
I really want it to be a resource for allies as well — I wonder how that will sit with people, because it does say LGBTQ in giant letters on the front. I want them to read and say, 'Wow! I had no idea that queer people had to think about that when they travel.'
Online, it can be really hard to deduce what is an ad and what is not. Oftentimes, what you're seeing on your phone may be special treatment an influencer is getting. Somebody who lives there knows this is a tourist trap, and this is an authentic place where the community actually gathers and enjoys themselves.
What makes you an expert on LGBTQ travel?
I don't know that I'm an expert. I mean, I am bi. But my expertise, I think, is in the interviewing.
How did you select the people in the book?
I would follow their blogs. So thinking of Two Bad Tourists in Madrid and Spain, I just loved their story: 'We dated, but then we broke up, and now we still run a tour company together.'
And then, it was kind of word-of-mouth.
I did speak to (many) trans folks in the book very intentionally as well, to make sure that their perspectives were represented. One person told me that, in Malta, even if you have top surgery, you can't be topless, necessarily, at the beach. There are laws against that.
How did you handle the evolving landscape of LGBTQ rights?
Anything you write in print is almost immediately out of date, so part of that is, is it safe to include businesses or not?
If we reached out and they were like, 'We don't want to be included or we fear for our safety,' any of that immediately would have been taken out. But most businesses were thrilled to be included.
I would have liked to include more recommendations in Africa and Asia. Unfortunately, I was not able to find people who were comfortable with — if not the actual legality of homosexuality in different places — the local attitudes or treatment of queer folks.
Did you leave out any places?
Honestly, there were no destinations where anybody said, 'That can't be in here.' I think if I were writing it now, I would have done a little less U.S., but, at the time, it felt safe.
This article originally appeared in
The New York Times
.
