On a recent backpacking trip through the Himalayas, my bruises became the truest souvenirs. Three months later, many of the contusions remain – stubborn scars with no intention of fading. More personal than anything I could have bought, they carry a backstory only I can tell, and I know exactly where they came from, with no hidden costs to the planet or people. Perhaps that’s why, over time, my desire for typical souvenirs has faded. I now value experiences over objects – looking for meaning in what I bring back rather than just another trinket.

Souvenir From Their Travels

But maybe that’s just me. Two out of three Americans bring back a souvenir from their travels, with US sales topping $21bn (£16.7bn) in 2022. The souvenir industry has drawn criticism for its reliance Digital Agency Jakarta on mass production and cultural appropriation. Still, it remains to be an often-overlooked side of tourism’s impact. Frequent flyers face scrutiny, but trinket collectors rarely do. Innovative ways to preserve memories remain largely unrealised. And when a friend hands me a fridge magnet stamped with their latest destination, I cringe. What does it really mean to take home a piece of a place, and at what cost?

Humans have always Chat Bot AI had a penchant for collecting things. The Romans brought home spices, animal skins and rare artefacts to commemorate their travels and conquests. In the 18th Century, iconic locations like the Rome’s Colosseum and Stonehenge in England were plundered by souvenir-seekers.

With the rise of industralisation and capitalism, a lot changed: the world became more connected, tourism boomed and profits took centre stage. But the human need to remember stayed. “Looking at a souvenir can bring back happy emotions as the brain links it to positive experiences,” said Vaishnavi Madarkal, a psychologist and therapist based in India. “This connection can happen with anything an object, music or a smell.”