Tourism Australia
Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are advised that this story may contain names and depictions of Indigenous individuals who have since passed.
Beneath the towering canopy of basket ferns and leafy fronds of Hope’s Cycad in Mossman Gorge, just 80 minutes north of the city of Cairns/Gimuy, Kuku Yalanji man Juan Walker points out an emerald-chested wompoo fruit dove. Its song echoes through this patch of the Daintree Rainforest, part of the Wet Tropics World Heritage Area, bouncing off the same boulders and branches that have existed here since the area was but a small part of the ancient Gondwanan forest that once covered the Australian continent.
We’re on the final part of our journey, which commenced four hours ago in downtown Mossman. During Juan’s Walkabout Cultural Adventures tour, we’ve tread the sandy shores of Rocky Point to dig for pipies (clam-like bivalves with mossy-toned and stone-shaded shells that shine and sparkle), cracked open and ate sea almonds, and gathered—captivated—as Juan detailed the bush remedies found where the ocean meets the sea. We learned about ingenious fish traps—a tens-of-thousands-year-old system for catching native coral trout and barramundi between tidal shifts—that decorate the shoreline, how to best throw a spear, and why certain treacherous patches of Daintree National Park are fiercely avoided by members of Juan’s community. Juan is a passionate storyteller and historian who speaks gently yet boldly, with pride and intention. He points out bent limbs of trees and gorges in their trunks; the former are directional markers, he says, and the latter scars that indicate where his ancestors carved out boomerangs. “You and me: we’re the same as this tree,” Juan says. “This rock, this water, it’s all energy. Take what you need and always put something back.”
Juan designed his itineraries based on the things he did as a young person, “integrating learning about the Country and the Aboriginal lifestyles on Country.” (Country is a term used by First Nations peoples to describe one’s connection with the land and waterways to which they and their community belong.) On his half-day tours—fueled by papaya, passionfruit, and bananas from family-owned Scomazzon’s Farm Store, and his mother’s homemade damper, a rustic Australian style of bread—Juan shares the Dreamtime (stories of how the natural world was created by spiritual beings) legend of Kurriyala, the snake whose movements created the waterways of Mossman Gorge, and the skills passed down to him by family members. Juan’s tours are a conscious, careful presentation of sacred knowledge that reflects the Kuku Yalanji relationship with this land, and the living traditions that ensure its protection and care.
“[We] will celebrate and remember all the people who got Uluru handed back to Anangu. This is our land, our Country, and it is very sacred to us.”
Rene Kulitja, Aṉangu Elder and artist
Today, Australia’s Indigenous-led tourism experiences are a modern vessel for ancient storytelling. They reflect the vibrancy of diverse communities and their enduring connection to culture, community, and heritage. From guided walking tours to culinary classes to art installations, these experiences begin to tell the stories—in each person’s own words—that boldly, resiliently, and beautifully encapsulate First Nations Australia.
Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders, the First Peoples of the landmass now known as Australia, represent the oldest continuously living cultures on Earth, with a 60,000-year-plus connection to the land, waterways, and skies of the nearly five million square miles of the continent; over 250 Indigenous languages, including 800 dialects, were once spoken in Australia. The last 200 years of the country’s history have been marred by colonization and violence for many Aboriginal communities, with massacres, forcible land takeovers, children removed from their homes (who are now known as the Stolen Generation) and the creation of missions—parcels of land to which Aboriginal people were forcibly relocated and controlled. In many cases, First Nations peoples were punished for using their own languages, destroying links between communities and culture, eroding the conservation of generational knowledge, and erasing identity. In 1976, the Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Act was passed, formally recognizing land rights for those whose Country had been stewarded by their ancestors—and now Indigenous communities across Australia are embracing the opportunity to determine, on their own terms, how visitors connect with their homeland.
The brave, red heart: Uluru, Northern Territory
Aṉangu Elder and internationally recognized artist Rene Kulitja works with Ayers Rock Resort in the Northern Territory’s central desert under the watchful eye of 300-million-year-old Uluru. Ayers Rock Resort, which is owned by the Indigenous Land and Sea Corporation, contains six accommodation options and over 100 tourism activities. Next year marks the 40th celebration of the handback of this land to the Aṉangu. Rene says that, to mark the occasion, the community “will celebrate and remember all the people who got Uluṟu handed back to Aṉangu. This is our land, our Country, and it is very sacred to us.”
Rene’s sister, Selina Kulitja, is one of the artists behind Sunrise Journeys, an immersive, early-morning art show at the resort that brings artwork Ngura nganampa Wiru mulapa (“Our Country is truly beautiful” in local Pitjantjatjara language) to life with animation technology that projects the painting’s cockatoos, footprints, and bush plums onto the red-dirt landscape’s Spinifex and scrub. The show ends as the glowing red orb of sun blossoms into the sky, and coffee and bushfood-inspired snacks follow.
“When people come to Uluṟu, we want them to experience our culture,” says Rene. “Sunrise Journeys gives Aṉangu a voice to show our Country, our bushfoods, our animals and our way of life. We teach this to our children. Now, we want to show our Country to the world.”
Food, the connector: Boorloo (Perth), Western Australia
Australia’s difficult history is one that Dale Tilbrook explores in her experiences at Maalinup Aboriginal Gallery on the lush grounds of Mandoon Estate in the picturesque Swan Valley, a 30-minute drive from Perth/Boorloo in Western Australia. Dale, a Wardandi-Bibbulmun woman of the Noongar nation, has worked in tourism since the early 1990s. The community Elder—a term of endearment and respect conferred onto her by her community—hosts experiences centered on Aboriginal art and Dreamtime stories, local history and culture, as well as educational food talks. Guests dot-paint river rocks while learning about the history of Aboriginal art, or sip lemon myrtle tea while listening to Dale share the six Noongar seasons and the medicinal qualities of native herbs. The food-centric tours are popular, Dale says, but they’re not without a bigger impact.
“There’s also that opportunity to share the story of everything … and to introduce the impact of colonization on our people, how our food resources were destroyed, our access to them was restricted, land here was reclaimed,” she says. “It’s an opportunity for that truth-telling but also the opportunity to increase people’s understanding and that helps with Reconciliation, because when people understand where you’re coming from, they’re more likely to appreciate your point of view.”
Walking softly, together: Arakwal (Byron Hinterland), New South Wales
Reconciliation is the ongoing strengthening of relationships between Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples and non-Indigenous Australians to improve the quality of life for First Nations Australians and build a brighter Australia for all. Bundjalung chef Mindy Woods calls her latest venture “Reconciliation in action.” After closing Byron Bay restaurant Karkalla in April, Mindy focused on “reinvigorating culture within our own Mob,” partnering with non-Indigenous-owned farm Conscious Ground to host ongoing cultural experiences. (Mob is a term to identify a group that associates with a particular place or Country.) “To really get a First Nations experience, it has to be on Country,” she says.
This month, Mindy launches the first of her twice-monthly Karkalla On Country long lunches, conceived in consultation with aunties and Elders. The six-to-eight course menu will be preceded by a Welcome to Country smoking ceremony hosted by Mindy’s aunts and a walk through the “food forest” of native produce (including ooray, or Davidson plum; gumbar gumbar, or macadamia; and darghan, a native ginger), with a bushfood-inspired cocktail in hand, then followed by a Bundjalung dance performance. Visitors are encouraged to take off their shoes, feel the grass between their toes, learn about native foods, and sit with the Traditional Owners of northern New South Wales’ verdant food bowl. Mindy will also host long lunches for children from Cabbage Tree Island, a small First Nations community on the NSW north coast where her grandmother lived in a mission, and bring at-risk Indigenous youth to the property to plant native saplings.
Mindy’s hands move away from and towards her heart as she describes the menu, inspired by the goanna season (one of six seasons of the Bundjalung calendar), which might include a spanner crab tart with lemon myrtle and cured emu egg yolk or locally caught Ballina king prawns with a laksa made of native herbs and spices.
“Food is the center of culture, of community, of the family home,” she says. “When you experience the food from Country, you’re connecting directly with Country. You’re taking Country into your body. When you come on Bundjalung, you’re family. When you eat with me, I treat you as my Mob; you’re my family.”
Floating into the future: Garlambirla (Coffs Harbour), New South Wales
Some 140 miles south of Bundjalung, on the salty, scenic waterways of the Coffs Coast of New South Wales, Gumbaynggirr man Clark Webb paddles proudly. The owner of Wajaana Yaam Adventure Tours considers his business—which takes guests out on the Buluunggal (Coffs Creek), Muniim (Moonee Creek) and Ngaalgan (Red Rock) waterways on stand-up paddle boards—a (literal) vessel to support his broader mission of strengthening language and culture.
“On a [stand-up paddle board] tour, we’re doing a cultural activity, just on modern equipment,” Clark says. “There’s old historical images and accounts from our Elders of our old people cutting canoes from trees. You could stand up, lay down, you could paddle along in that canoe any way you’d like—and it’s the same with a stand-up paddle board.”
Clark’s school, the Gumbaynggirr Giingana Freedom School, is the first bilingual school in New South Wales, teaching in both English and the critically endangered Gumbaynggirr language. It educates 70 students, with 100 percent Aboriginal enrollment, and uses the teachings of Gumbaynggirr culture to underpin the education program. Clark estimates that there are only 30 highly-proficient speakers in the community currently, a number he hopes to change.
“Tourism gives us a little bit of an economic opportunity to reinvest profits in places like our school, so we’re bringing up our children to be cultural beings,” says Clark. “We’ve worked really hard to keep our language alive and bring our language back into everyday use.”
A natural connection: Minjerribah (North Stradbroke Island), Queensland
Using tourism to remain connected to culture and support the next generation is also essential to Elisha Kissick, the founder and owner of Yura Tours on North Stradbroke Island/Minjerribah, 40 minutes from Brisbane. Elisha, a Quandamooka woman, started Yura Tours in 2021 with one tour, and has expanded to four: two by foot and two by car. Travelers walk on warm sand towards sacred headlands, overlook the Coral Sea, and nibble on bushfood. In winter, Elisha offers yallingbilla (whale) watching tours and points out kangaroos as they bound across the landscape.
“It’s the most beautiful island in the world,” Elisha says with a grin, the island’s azure waters lapping in the background. “You’ve got every single animal you can think of that people want to see. I’ve done tours for three-and-a-half years and there’s only been three times that I haven’t been able to produce a koala, so that’s pretty good odds.”
Elisha happily traverses the lush, filter-free landscape in the small-group tours, covering the tea tree lake (“the oldest day spa in the world,” Elisha quips) and the island’s divine seafood. On her longest tour, she teaches people how to shuck Stradbroke Island rock oysters and serves them on a seafood platter alongside Moreton Bay bugs, a type of crustacean. She hopes her business will employ the island’s girls and young women, offering them an opportunity to stay on Country and develop a stronger pride for passed-down knowledge and culture.
“Being a Quandamooka person, a woman, it’s up to me to give opportunities to some of these young girls on the island,” she says. “I want to build my ‘little woman tour guide army’ because there’s not a lot of female First Nations tour guides out there and there’s not a lot of opportunities to work on the island, on Country, for these young girls.”
“A little piece of heaven”: Ewuny (Sunday Island), Western Australia
The love of the landscape and the earth runs fiercely through Rosanna Angus’ soul. The founder of Oolin Sunday Island Tours off the coast of the rugged Dampier Peninsula of Western Australia calls her Country “a little piece of heaven.” The Jawi woman runs boat trips to Sunday Island/Ewuny, through “the second-strongest tides in the world” to get to the beach that belongs to her grandfather: Goodngarngoon. She calls the waters “majestically blue”, and talks of the whales, dolphins, turtles, and sharks that punctuate the waves.
“I never used to take people to this part of the Country, because it was too special, but I realize now that my visitors who come on my tours want to embrace, listen, and hear the stories of our ancestors, that make us Jawi people strong.”
Rosanna’s tours run from April to October and center on the history of the Sunday Island Mission and its displacement of the Traditional Owners.
“My tours are about creating connections and relationships to each other and the land,” Rosanna says. “Just being on Country brings up these different emotions [for guests].”
Connecting, learning: Gubbi Gubbi Country (Sunshine Coast), Queensland
One such emotion is joy. That same kind of joy is felt on the Sunshine Coast/Gubbi Gubbi, which erupts with a celebration of First Nations culture during GATHAA, a Sunday market of First Nations stallholders. Dale Chapman, a Yuwaalaraay and Kooma woman who owns bushfood business My Dilly Bag, watches as food trucks, artists, weavers, purveyors, an espresso van and musicians park outside her storefront. She calls it “a really good taste of Aboriginal Australia” and a space for Indigenous and non-Indigenous people to connect.
“Australia is one of those places where you won’t hear the same thing twice. You may have that similar thread of things, but everyone has their own journey and everyone has their own story to tell,” she says. “First Nation peoples and culture is Australia’s best asset.”
Capitals of change: Narrm (Melbourne), Victoria; Warrane (Sydney), New South Wales
But for travelers who can’t make time to leave the cities, First Nations culture is just as accessible. At Nornie Bero’s Melbourne/Naarm restaurant Big Esso (which means “big thanks” in Meriam, Nornie’s first language), Torres Strait cuisine is showcased through zesty kangaroo tartare topped with green ants, succulent red-curry-tinted kodal (crocodile) tongue skewers, and a drinks menu featuring exclusively First Nations-owned businesses.
“You just have to embrace what modern Indigenous Australia really looks like now,” says Nornie, who is of the Komet tribe of the Meriam people. “We’re an ever-evolving and changing community but we hold culture really strong. If [travelers] come to me, they’re going to taste that on a plate.”
And in Sydney/Gadigal, stories await, too: Dunghutti-Jerrinjah woman Margret Campbell of Dreamtime Southern X tells some during her walking tours, which start on the shores of Sydney Harbour. If climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge is on your bucket list, then consider the Burrawa tour; the three-hour, 1332-step walk is hosted by a First Nations guide and reveals the city’s past. Tourism Australia’s Discover Aboriginal Experiences platform collates over 200 experiences, searchable by location, and Welcome to Country provides a resource to find Aboriginal-made products and Indigenous-led experiences. The conversation begins with curiosity, and continues with treading lightly on the land that contains tens of thousands of living history.
“We’re the natural storytellers,” says Elisha. “Doing this job, this is what we’ve always done. When people would come to your island, or our Country, the first thing you would do is welcome them in, give them a feed, then sit down and have a yarn. So it’s not new to us, and that’s why we do it so well.”
Originally Appeared on Condé Nast Traveler