In Norway, nature is something of a national obsession. Norwegian children are taught that “there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing”, and Norwegian babies are packed into thermals and overalls and taken on day trips to the woods. Cross-country skiing, hunting for wild mushrooms or cloudberries, or huffing and puffing up a mountain are standard weekend activities. The recent decision to scrap a campaign that aimed to attract more foreign tourists to the country’s rural landscapes was a stark reminder of this: rather than encouraging tourists and the income they provide, many Norwegians would prefer to protect their natural environment. Norway has some extremely beautiful landscapes, such as Lofoten, a stunning chain of islands that offers northern lights during the winter months and midnight sun during summer, and the countless breathtaking fjords. It is therefore no surprise that tourist numbers have surged in the last few years. Lofoten, for instance, has seen a 15% increase in tourism from 2022 to 2023. And this summer has seen a record number of vehicles on the road in the area, as many Europeans drive to Norway. Another contributing factor to the explosion in tourism is the newly started direct flights from cities in western Europe like London and Amsterdam to “the Paris of the north”: nearby Tromsø. Visiting Norway from the US and European countries has also become cheaper than it used to be as the currency rate has dropped. Norway has enough cool, rainy days to satisfy those who are growing sick of heatwaves, and enough remote and sparsely populated landscapes to escape the crowds in other parts of Europe. While other destinations have imposed measures on tourists once they arrive – such as Venice’s €5 “tourist tax” – Norway is highly unlikely to do any such thing. The Norwegian approach is to deter them from coming by slashing funding for tourism adverts, as the Western Norway tourist board has done, and quietly shelving campaigns. Nature and outdoor activities are needed to get our minds off the cold, harsh and unforgivingly dark winters, which last about six months a year, with just five to six hours of daylight in the south and polar nights in the north, meaning the sun doesn’t rise above the horizon for months. Slaloming down snowy slopes or skiing cross-country through the woods is far preferable to becoming a prisoner in one’s own home. But that will get harder with tourism. You only need to look at the Alps to see how tourism can cause overcrowded villages, traffic jams and worn-down hiking trails and skiing slopes. There’s an increasing fear that Norway’s natural landscapes might become overcrowded or misused, especially because large parts of the country are free to roam, thanks to centuries-old traditions and laws called allemannsretten (literally: “everyone has ownership”). What these mean is that anyone has the right to roam free in the wilderness, and set up camp, even if the land has an owner. As long as camp is set 150 metres from houses and cabins and for a maximum of two days, you can usually pitch your tent wherever you like. There is another unique tradition administered by the Norwegian Tourist Organisation, which gives its members access to hundreds of small cabins almost for free (about £20 a night). These are simple wood cabins placed in remote, picturesque areas, mostly with outdoor toilets, no heating and no water. They are well taken care of and loved, as the visitors have to “leave it as you found it” – meaning you keep it clean and fix it if you break it. Foreigners are allowed to apply for membership, allowing them to access these cabins, but the organisation tells me it has made a conscious decision not to advertise this fact internationally. Norway’s pain threshold for tourists is low – lower than it might be in other countries where tourism is a vital source of national income. Partly, that’s because Norway can afford to miss out on potential tourism income as it has the world’s largest sovereign wealth fund. One could also point out the irony of Norway being the world’s fifth largest oil exporter, and a prime contributor to global heating, while it obsesses about protecting its woods and mountains. In this sense, the recent scrapping of this campaign points to something deeper: Norway and Norwegians struggle with the dilemma of retaining their privileges, which flow largely from fossil fuels, while scrambling to save nature. You may think the strong sentiments to preserve Norwegian nature and heritage may have some undercurrents of racism and nationalism, but I would argue that it is not about where the tourists are from, but whether they respect nature and the local traditions. The love for the outdoors is almost as a religion to many Norwegians. So much so that even trying to adapt to the climate crisis cannot interfere with nature. The Norwegian authorities have for years been trying to put up onshore wind power plants across the country in an effort to produce more green energy, for instance. But these plans have faced resistance from locals, who object to the damage these structures do to the natural environment. In the long term, saying no to tourists may become more difficult. Norway has been struggling with high inflation, high interest rates, and tanking currency rates. Economic disparity and social injustice have seeped into one of the world’s most successful welfare states, affecting those less fortunate, the sick and the poor. One in 10 Norwegian children are growing up in poverty, many of whom belong to immigrant families. Arguably, a booming tourism industry could be a means of diversifying away from fossil fuels, and securing a much-needed source of income. However, there is still time to put in place measures that welcome the tourists, and at the same time safeguard our natural environment. Visitors need clearer signs, guidelines and guides telling them how to protect themselves and nature. There needs to be proper infrastructure put in place that doesn’t strain our wilderness, and there needs to be stricter regulations – such as the one in the west-coast city of Bergen, where a maximum of 8,000 cruise ship tourists are allowed to step ashore daily. To put a ticket on visits to places such as the spectacular Pulpit Rock might not be the Norwegian way, but to try to regulate the number of tourists to the country is. Shazia Majid is a columnist at Norwegian newspaper VG