Notes from my first (and probably last) ITB

I went to ITB Berlin, the world’s leading travel trade show, for the first time this week. First time in 20 years as an entrepreneur.

Interesting days. Especially from a sociological or anthropological perspective.
Still, I am pretty sure I will never go back.

The last few days I’ve seen a lot of wrap-ups from ITB. People have gained a lot of knowledge, new connections and are bursting with energy. My experience was also good, but a bit more nuanced.

I spent three days at ITB in Berlin. Tuesday afternoon to Thursday evening. And I took notes during the stay. As a first-time participant I thought I should try to wrap it up while impressions are still fresh. Here are my thoughts after having a weekend to rest and think:

First: I was not there to sell anything or buy anything. I never do. I had a workshop in Berlin and decided to join ITB while I was there. I reached out to my network on LinkedIn and had many meetings and coffees, but also made sure my schedule was not too tight. I was well prepared on things to see and added time and flexibility to join side events and drop by things.

I met a lot of lovely people. Everyone I spoke with was great. Truly. It was nice reconnecting with people I knew, even surprisingly meeting guides and operators from all around the world that I have worked with, even though I had not seen them for the last 15 years. I also got input and perspectives I probably wouldn’t have received if I had gone straight back home after my job in Berlin, or gone skiing in the Alps, as my plan A was. Nice to shake hands with people I had only met online before.

Two of the meetings was so genuinely good, that I think might actually lead somewhere. Meetings that will make a difference.

Staying a couple of days extra to attand ITB, was, kind of, worth it.

But still. Did it add any additional value to anything I do that I couldn't have achieved elsewhere? I don’t think so. And honestly, those good meetings could just as well have happened somewhere else.

The main thing I took away is this. ITB is yesterday’s way of showcasing yesterday’s solutions.

The problem is not the organisation.

The problem is the format.

It is a huge event, according to their stats.

170+ represented countries
5800+ exhibitors
24,000 convention participants

More than 100,000 attendees in total, which is roughly the population of the Norwegian cities of Trondheim or Stavanger. In other words: ITB is not necessarily very overwhelming when you think about it as a small town like those. And it was surprisingly easy to navigate. Very German. Structured. Efficient. Low-quality, effective food. Short walking distances. A few U-Bahn stops from Berlin city.

In that sense the organisation of all this is impressive. I never felt overwhelmed by the size. The noise in some halls was like hell, but I get that feeling after five minutes in any shopping mall I have ever visited too.

I attended somewhere between 12 and 15 speaking sessions. Tech, sustainability, future. Honestly, I expected more. Or, to be even more honest, I was disappointed.

I was attracted by the size and numbers of events. I imagined being able to jump from high quality tech talks to high quality sustainability talks. Instead I got a grey mass of sameness. As usual, trying to be everything for everyone makes you average.

Most talks were ok, but also strangely repetitive. The same stories. The same slides. The same talking points. Nothing truly new. Nothing that made me rethink something. Not a single session that really touched me or gave me something I will carry with me.

Known names. Great and knowledgeable people with interesting topics. Uninteresting talks. I did not follow any of them to the end. And I usually always pay much attention and stay to the bitter end.

Panel debates were worse. Too many speakers used the stage to sell their own company or product rather than sharing insight. Rather than giving the audience some sense of value. Moderators often struggled to steer the conversation somewhere useful. I had expected more. Some high-titled moderators came back in many sessions with their surface-scratching questions. Maybe that was what they were hired to do. Don’t dig deep. Talk in headlines. State the obvious.

Because something else was very visible. People were not present. In almost every session the majority of the audience were on their phones or laptops. Speakers talking. Audience scrolling. Skilled people delivering half hearted presentations to people who were not really watching.

Part of the problem might be the surrounding environment. Many stages were placed right in the middle of busy exhibition areas. Constant noise. People passing by. Conversations everywhere.

It is hard to create focus in that kind of setting.

The speakers would probably do much better in quieter surroundings. At ITB everything risks drowning in noise. I think they lost their focus. Live speaking is a cooperation between audience and speaker. It just didn't work.

There are exceptions.

In Hall 4.1 I saw some short films presented by Rob Holmes on the open stage. People were suddenly fully engaged. People walking by stopped. Got hooked. Got touched.

Real storytelling still works.

But of course those films were made beforehand. They were not created in the room. This format worked really well.

Meetings were typically scheduled in 30-minute slots. After 30 minutes people rush off to the next one. It is hard to build anything meaningful in that rhythm.

Halfway into the meeting people start checking their watch. Their mind starts preparing for what's next. I have pitched what I wanted. Next please.

Some people I talked to had 20 or more meetings on a single day. 20 min slots. I should probably be careful throwing stones here. I had more than 10 pre-booked meetings and coffees myself over three days. That is more meetings than I normally have in a month.

In 20 years as an entrepreneur I have always had a no-more-than-three-meetings-a-week rule to make sure I get shit done. This week I broke it.

I have never experienced being invited to so many meetings and coffees before. It is nice. But it was of course impossible for me to do all. And it probably doesn’t make much sense for either them or me.

This is my impression. People often want something. A tip. An idea. A partnership. An introduction. Just like the people that invite you to a slot on LinkedIn.

Which is understandable. But also hard to deliver in a 30-minute slot inside a noisy hall, especially when you are supposed to meet someone else later.

In my world one really good conversation beats twenty nice ones. The quality that comes from staying longer with someone simply isn’t there.

People with calendars packed from morning to evening are rarely present. They are already thinking about the next meeting. If someone is rushing to the next appointment, the conversation almost becomes pointless.

The setup simply isn’t designed for deep connection. Nowhere does travel and tourism feel more like an industry than in such events.

I am an entrepreneur. I like creating things. You don’t create things at conferences and trade shows.

These events are much more the territory of middlemen, sales people, consultants, career people, middle managers and what you might call the industry’s chattering class. The people that are more concerned about talking than doing. People concerned about being concerned about sustainability. People concerned about being concerned about innovation.

People selling.
People networking.
People maintaining visibility.

There is also another layer to this. These events are in many ways a proxy for results. A substitute for the real thing. Middlemen and organisations often need something to show their bosses, boards or funders. Something measurable. Something that can go into a report. “We had 50 meetings” “Our stand was popular”

A bit like hiring someone to help you with online marketing. They show you how many people saw the ad. How many clicked the website. Lots of numbers.

But it does not necessarily mean anything.

It is also a bit like having followers on social media.

It looks good. But it does not necessarily create value.

As an entrepreneur I do not have that luxury.

I use my own money. And the money that others have invested in the company. I have to deliver. I cannot just show activity. I have to deliver results. If not, I don’t have a company.

I would also not spend my company [Re] treats money on going to ITB. I had a workshop in Berlin and used the money I earned from that to cover my participation and stay.

Still, it took time and focus away from more important things.

We have to create exceptional products that customers tell others about.

That is very different from organisations that live from grants or public funding, where the main task often becomes documenting activity through reports rather than delivering something that the market actually demands.

I’m not selling anything. And I’m definitely not buying anything. That changes the value of being there. For you it might be the best event of the year. For me it is not.

In the tech area there were many AI solutions. But surprisingly many platforms already looked quite outdated. Lots of top-layer AI added on top of existing systems. Pretended value. Travel tech is, as usual, a few steps behind general development. If you want tech inspiration, seek startup communities rather than ITB.

ITB is not a place for innovation or early adopters. That’s for sure. It is more for the masses.

Speaking of masses. ITB is a place for mass tourism. Tourism will not become more sustainable because of ITB. Yes, there is a sustainability hall. Yes, there were some stage discussions about it. But they felt more like an appendix to the main event.

I did not become optimistic for the future of tourism. Or the present. It was a bit saddening.

What ITB will absolutely contribute to is more volume in tourism. That much I am certain of.

New partnerships. New companies to the same destinations.

And btw, such fairs, is a parallel universe. Not connected to the world. Did you see the stands of Saudi Arabia or Egypt while wars are going on in their backyard?

Not surprisingly, but still interestingly, my best conversations happened outside the fair. In the park. On the train. Walking through the streets of the city. Standing in the sun.

That is usually how I build relationships.

Not across a small table inside a busy exhibition hall or in a meeting room. But walking somewhere together. Hiking. Travelling. Taking a train. Going on a short trip. Spending time without the clock running.

Real relationships rarely start at a booth.

They usually start somewhere else.

In a strange way ITB reminded me a bit of tourism itself. People rushing around ticking boxes. Seeing many things, but only scratching the surface. A bit like a bucket list trip.

Lots of activity. Not always much depth.

Friday morning, back in Norway, I sent the kids to school, walked the dog and took the morning slowly. I think I had more progressive thoughts during that walk, and during an afternoon gathering, than during three days inside the halls.

Still, I’m glad I went. I met good people and got a glimpse of where the industry is at right now. Sadly, the industry (accoriding to ITB) is not where I hoped.

But if you want to create something new, build deeper relationships or have conversations that actually matter, there are probably better ways to spend your time.

One long walk. One train journey. One proper conversation.

Sometimes that is enough.