In an oversized, wood-paneled boardroom with a view of Tokyo’s Imperial Palace, Tsubasa Yokote is trying to explain the city’s approach to sustainable tourism. And it’s not easy.
Kota Kinabalu is the kind of place that seems straight out of your imagination. Not far from the capital of the Malaysian state of Sabah, you can find proboscis monkeys swinging through ancient rainforests and giant clams the size of coffee tables lurking beneath turquoise waters.
The aroma in Trudy’s Tan’s kitchen in Kuching, Malaysia, is intoxicating. It’s a blend of the familiar and the utterly new: garlic and pepper with Terung Iban, the sour eggplant found in Borneo. It’s Gula Apong, also known as Nipah palm sugar, caramelized with fried potato wedges
Just after sunset on a ranch outside Alice Springs, Australia, the inky blackness of the night sky drapes across the Outback.
Margret Campbell stands at the edge of Sydney’s Harbor foreshore, her hand brushing the leaves of a seasonal wattle tree.
The City Museum in Gothenburg, Sweden, is one of several museums with an aggressive sustainability program.
The Biostadt Schmilka, a sustainable resort on the bank of the Elbe river near the Czech border, looks like every other German village. There’s a Gasthaus and homes with immaculate gardens and fruit trees, and the river with colorful kayaks floating downstream.
You can talk all you want about sustainability and tourism, but at the Lulu Guldsmeden Hotel in Berlin, you can do something about it.
