By only seeing the world through a white lens, we are all missing out

As debate rages around Britain’s imperial past, Ash Bhardwaj notes that everything we experience, from history to travel, is framed through the eyes of the writer. And by only seeing the world of travel through a white lens, we are all missing out.

What’s the worst travel experience you’ve ever had? Missing a flight? A hotel not living up to its billing? How about being spat at because of your skin colour?

That’s what happened to author Monisha Rajesh at a suburban railway station near Moscow.

“It was so unpleasant,” she says. “And I could feel, under my skin, this sense of foreboding, that we shouldn’t be there. I had never read about that experience of hostility in Russia. And that’s because I had never read about any black or brown person travelling in Russia, in any newspaper or book.”

People of colour experience travel differently. Have you ever googled, “How are white people treated in [insert country]?” Probably not, because you know that white people are treated well nearly everywhere in the world, and you regularly read about white people travelling there. But black and Asian people have to google their alternative.

Some experiences as a non-white traveller are awful. But others can be transcendent: on a group trip to Nepal, villagers chatted to me before any of the white guests, because they saw me as a “brother”; a Maori guide in New Zealand shared his ancestral stories with me, knowing that I would treat them with respect, because I also knew what it was like for my heritage to be commodified.

Sometimes it’s just helpful, like getting local prices at a market, and sometimes it’s enlightening, like the Belarusian who had no idea that there were black or brown people in Britain.

These experiences are broadly unknown because almost every travel writer is white – they cannot tell these stories because they never experienced them. It’s important to recognise that this is a product of ignorance, rather than malice: there are black and brown travel writers out there, but I can name them on two hands, which leaves a sad gap in understanding.

Before my first visit to India, I read books by Paul Theroux and Eric Newby. But I couldn’t connect with their experiences as middle-aged white men in India: observing the locals, rather than empathising with them. Remarkably, it wasn’t until this year that I found a travel book about India written by a British Indian – Monisha’s Around India in 80 Trains. It was published seven years ago. That it took me so long to find it is a lesson in itself.

Even today, travel articles on India contain the tired old clichés of cows and slums, followed by spas and indulgence. There’s a disparaging tone to these boring stereotypes, but read an article on India by a writer of colour, and you’ll discover a completely different side to the country.

Terms like “colonial charm” are particularly galling. They might evoke decadence and elegance to a white Brit, but to someone of African, Caribbean or Indian descent, imperial nostalgia represents tacit support of oppression and looting.

That’s not to say we should wipe away the past. The nuance of identity and history is important: I say this as a half-Indian officer in the British Army Reserve, who proudly wears the Rifles’ battle honours of the Indian Mutiny, even though my Indian ancestors fought on the other side. Those honours represent the sacrifice of my military forebears, and seeing them helps me to reflect on the complexity of Empire.

It’s scary to write about these matters, because they are sensitive, precious and make me feel vulnerable. It means admitting that I’m different to the white people who have commissioned me and the (probably) white people who will read my work. I fear that they will see it as evidence that I am not “really British”, or dismiss my experiences as irrelevant. But, in the last few weeks, I have spoken to friends of all ethnic backgrounds, who tell me that diverse voices make travel more interesting for everyone. Travel is supposed to be about broadening horizons and understanding different cultures, but all-too-often it comes down to repetitive clichés.

Now, more than ever, we must challenge dubious histories and narratives about the world. We’ve seen this with British Indians writing about India, but I want to hear more black voices in travel writing: what does a British-Jamaican feel when visiting South Africa; would a British-Nigerian have a different experience to me in Alabama?

There are opportunities in this, too. If we only hear from white travellers, we forget the needs and interests of travellers of colour. By sharing diverse voices, magazines and newspapers will find new audiences and inspire more people to travel, which is good for the whole travel industry. A start would be to see more representation in travel PR (traditionally dominated by blonde graduates of Bristol, Durham or Exeter).

I want to finish by thanking the Telegraph’s travel editors for asking me to write this piece. These are uncomfortable conversations that get right to the heart of how we view ourselves and the world, and it takes courage to publish them. The team have always been happy for me to write about the places I visit, through my lens as a half-Indian Brit.

All the same, there needs to be more diversity in their pages. This isn’t through malice on the part of the Telegraph’s travel editors. They get very few pitches from non-white travel writers. But travel doesn’t feel like a place for writers of colour – in ten years of travel writing, I’ve only been commissioned by one non-white editor.

You can’t be what you can’t see, and by seeing more travel writers that look like them, more people of colour will aspire to travel, and to write about it. Travel writers of all backgrounds should mentor and encourage them, give them opportunities and amplify their voices. Some of what they say might be uncomfortable. But their words will make travel richer, more complex and more inclusive for us all.

Read more of Ash’s writing for Telegraph Travel here. You can listen to Ash’s Telegraph Travel podcast, Edgelands here.