09:25 26-12-2025

Endangered resorts: how iconic destinations are fighting back

Discover seven iconic resorts threatened by climate change, erosion and overtourism. Learn the risks, what protection is underway, and how travelers can help.

Pierre André Leclercq, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Resorts around the globe lure millions with dramatic scenery, distinct character and one‑of‑a‑kind landmarks. Yet many of these postcard‑perfect places sit on a knife edge because of where they are on the map. Climate change, soil erosion, rising seas and human pressure combine to threaten destinations we once assumed were timeless.

This article looks at resorts whose fate worries scientists and environmentalists. We outline the pressures bearing down on them, how they are trying to adapt, and what travelers can realistically do to help keep them intact for the next generation. Losing such places would mean more than saying goodbye to natural wonders; it would chip away at cultural and historical heritage too — a prospect that already feels uncomfortably close.

Easter Island (Chile)

Rivi, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Easter Island (Rapa Nui), a Chilean territory set deep in the South Pacific, is one of the planet’s most remote — and most enigmatic — islands. Its monumental moai statues carved by an ancient civilization, together with stark volcanic vistas, pull in visitors year after year. That isolation, however, comes with a fragile ecosystem that leaves the island exposed.

Rapa Nui lies roughly 3,500 kilometers off Chile’s coast, ringed by the vast Pacific. Isolation shaped a unique web of life with rare plants and animals. The moai, hewn from volcanic tuff, are both a cultural emblem and part of humanity’s shared heritage.

The island faces a cluster of risks that could reshape it:

Coastal erosion and sea-level rise: Stronger waves and higher water levels are eating away at the shore, putting the statues and archaeological sites in harm’s way.

Climate change: More frequent storms and shifting weather patterns threaten both infrastructure and the natural environment.

Ocean pollution: Currents bring microplastics and debris that damage marine life around the island.

Population pressure and tourism: Limited resources strain under a growing population and visitor numbers, eroding the ecosystem.

Loss of cultural heritage: Constant natural and human impacts endanger the long‑term preservation of the moai.

Why protection matters. Easter Island is more than a bucket‑list destination; it is a testament to ancient ingenuity. Safeguarding it calls for measures such as regulating tourism through visitor limits and sustainable practices; shoring up coasts to curb erosion; restoring and conserving moai and other sites; and investing in environmental education for locals and travelers. The goal is simple but urgent: reduce pressure now so the island’s spirit endures.

Antarctica

US Embassy New Zealand, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Earth’s southernmost continent draws travelers with its austere beauty — towering ice, endless snowfields, and rich marine life. For adventure seekers and science‑minded visitors, this frozen realm encircled by the Southern Ocean is as rare as it gets. Global warming, however, puts this natural wonder on a precarious trajectory.

Antarctica straddles the South Pole and holds the world’s largest ice sheet, containing about 70% of the planet’s fresh water. Brutal cold, fierce winds and long polar nights forge conditions unlike anywhere else — thrilling to witness, yet incredibly delicate.

The continent’s vulnerabilities are stark:

Glacier melt: Rising global temperatures are accelerating ice‑sheet loss, pushing up sea levels and altering regional ecosystems.

Loss of sea ice: Shrinking sea‑ice extent disrupts habitats for penguins, seals and whales.

Ecosystem shifts: Warmer waters upend feeding and breeding patterns, with a real risk to biodiversity.

More tourism: Even with strict rules, growing visitor numbers add pressure and raise the chance of pollution in a fragile environment.

Resource exploitation: Any future extraction of oil, gas or minerals would irreversibly damage the region.

Why protection matters. Antarctica is both an extraordinary “resort” and a crucial climate regulator. Protecting it means cutting greenhouse‑gas emissions and moving toward clean energy; strengthening conservation and keeping resource extraction off the table; supporting scientific missions to decode rapid changes; and honoring the Antarctic Treaty’s cooperative safeguards. The continent’s fate is tied to our own — a connection that becomes clearer each year.

Grand Canyon National Park (USA)

Islander61, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

In Arizona, the Grand Canyon stands as one of nature’s most dazzling feats. Carved by the Colorado River over millions of years, it stretches about 446 kilometers and plunges more than 1,800 meters. Its layered geology and sweeping vistas draw millions annually. That same grandeur sits in a dry region, making the park especially vulnerable to both natural and human pressures.

The canyon’s ecosystem relies on a fine balance. The Colorado River, essential to the canyon’s formation, also supplies water to millions in the United States and Mexico. In a landscape of scarce water, every shift is amplified.

Key threats include:

Climate change: Hotter temperatures and fewer rains mean deeper drought, stressing ecosystems and lowering Colorado River flows.

Soil erosion: Altered water patterns and human activity accelerate erosion, reshaping natural features.

Pollution risks: Nearby mining, including uranium extraction, poses contamination hazards for water and soil.

Mass tourism: Heavy footfall strains infrastructure, generates more waste and wears down delicate sites.

Invasive species: Human‑introduced plants and animals disrupt the native ecological balance.

Why protection matters. The Grand Canyon is a symbol of raw beauty and a pillar of cultural and ecological heritage. Preservation hinges on sustainable water management for the Colorado; tighter visitor management and greener infrastructure; clear limits on mining near the park; and continued research to track ecosystem health and guide restoration. In a drying West, prudence is no longer optional.

Seychelles

dronepicr, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Set in the Indian Ocean east of Africa, the Seychelles archipelago of 115 islands is famed for powder‑white beaches, luminous water and singular ecosystems. Coral reefs, giant tortoises and rare plants make it a magnet for travelers — and a frontline for environmental change.

Many islands sit just a few meters above sea level, making them acutely exposed to rising seas. Tropical storms and warming waters add stress in a region where nature’s defenses must work overtime.

The main pressures are clear:

Sea‑level rise: Global warming is pushing water higher, threatening infrastructure and ecosystems on low‑lying islands.

Coral bleaching: Hotter seas kill reefs that buffer coasts and support rich biodiversity.

Coastal erosion: Persistent wave action and storms chew away at beaches and habitats.

Tourism pressure: Expanding facilities bring pollution and heavier impacts on nature.

Threats to rare species: Shifting habitats imperil emblematic wildlife, from giant tortoises to scarce birds.

Why protection matters. The Seychelles are both a coveted escape and a vital node of oceanic biodiversity. Priorities include defending shorelines with artificial barriers and restored mangroves; tackling climate change through emissions cuts; embedding sustainability across the tourism sector; rehabilitating and protecting reefs with new techniques; and raising local awareness. The payoff is practical as well as poetic: resilient coasts and communities.

Machu Picchu (Peru)

Diego Delso, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

High in Peru’s Andes, Machu Picchu remains one of the world’s most recognisable archaeological sites. Built in the 15th century by the Inca, its terraces, temples and mountain views are unforgettable. The same dramatic setting, though, leaves it open to natural and human‑driven risks.

Perched about 2,430 meters above sea level on steep slopes near the Urubamba River, the citadel blends into the terrain with uncanny finesse. That geography, however, comes with hazards.

The key concerns:

Landslides and erosion: Steep gradients and high humidity destabilize soils, threatening terraces and buildings.

Mass tourism: Hundreds of thousands visit annually, burdening infrastructure, accelerating wear and raising conservation risks.

Climate change: More extreme weather — heavy rains and storms — speeds erosion and endangers structures.

Seismic activity: In an earthquake‑prone zone, tremors could seriously damage the site.

Infrastructure pressure: New roads and rail bring added impacts to the landscape and the monument itself.

Why protection matters. Listed by UNESCO, Machu Picchu is central to Peru’s heritage. Safeguarding it means capping visitor numbers and leaning into low‑impact tourism; stabilizing slopes and restoring terraces; building early‑warning systems for quakes and landslides; supporting research to guide long‑term protection; and educating locals and visitors alike. The site’s endurance depends on careful limits — a trade‑off most visitors accept once they see the stakes.

Kilimanjaro (Tanzania)

Antony Trivet, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Africa’s highest mountain rises from Tanzania’s plains in a snow‑capped sweep that captivates trekkers and nature lovers worldwide. At 5,895 meters, Kilimanjaro’s glaciers are iconic — and increasingly at risk.

The mountain is a volcanic massif of three cones — Kibo, Mawenzi and Shira. Its ancient ice and snow feed surrounding regions with fresh water and symbolize the continent’s wild heart. From tropical forest to alpine desert, its ecosystems shift with altitude, each sensitive to change.

Major threats include:

Glacial retreat: Global warming is rapidly shrinking Kilimanjaro’s ice. Scientists warn the snow cover could vanish within the next few decades.

Ecosystem changes: Rising temperatures imperil biodiversity, including endemic plants and animals.

Forest loss: Clearing for agriculture around the mountain disrupts water cycles and speeds soil erosion.

Tourism pressure: High visitor numbers and new facilities add strain to a delicate environment.

Declining water resources: As glaciers fade, vital water supplies for communities and nature dwindle.

Why protection matters. Kilimanjaro is a natural marvel and a crucial ecological and economic asset for Tanzania and beyond. Priorities include cutting greenhouse‑gas emissions; restoring and protecting forests; tightening sustainability rules for tourism to limit resource pressure; funding research on glacier and ecosystem health; and expanding education for residents and visitors. The mountain’s white crown has become a barometer — what happens here is a clear signal to the rest of us.

Tuvalu (Pacific Ocean)

INABA Tomoaki, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

This small island nation in the central Pacific consists of nine atolls and islands with postcard lagoons, white beaches and living traditions. It is also among the world’s lowest‑lying countries, making Tuvalu profoundly exposed to climate change.

Most of Tuvalu sits just 1–2 meters above sea level, fringed by coral reefs that shield shorelines and anchor the ecosystem. Isolation and a tropical climate draw eco‑minded visitors, but geography places the country squarely in nature’s line of fire.

The dangers are immediate:

Sea‑level rise: As oceans climb, the risk of inundation grows across all of Tuvalu.

Coastal erosion: Relentless waves are wearing islands down, shrinking their land area.

Ocean pollution: Debris and microplastics from far beyond the Pacific threaten reefs and marine life.

Loss of drinking water: Saltwater intrusion is contaminating ground sources and making them unfit to drink.

Climate shocks: More frequent storms and cyclones damage infrastructure and endanger lives.

Economic fragility: Limited resources and reliance on outside help make adaptation harder.

Why protection matters. Tuvalu has become a stark symbol of the climate emergency, a reminder that action cannot wait. What’s needed includes meeting emissions‑reduction commitments; rehabilitating and defending coral reefs; supporting communities with resilience and, where necessary, relocation programs; exploring protective engineering such as artificial islands and flood barriers; and promoting low‑impact tourism that helps fund conservation. For a nation measured in meters, every centimeter of sea level counts — and so does every decision we make far from its shores.