Picture waking up zipped into a canvas tent that has a feather duvet, a power outlet, even a mini fridge. That's glamping for you—nature, yes, but with the loftiest comforts. Now here’s the kicker: people say glamping is “greener” than traditional holidays, but is that actually true, or is it just great marketing? It’s a wild claim worth poking holes in. Glamping pitches itself as nature’s best friend, but the reality is tangled up in trendiness, luxury demands, and—let’s be real—Instagram.
What Is Glamping, and How Did It Start?
First, let’s break down what glamping actually means. You might picture treehouses in Byron Bay or domes in the Flinders Ranges with panoramic windows. The word itself is a mashup of “glamorous” and “camping.” The earliest version could be those luxury safari camps in Africa or royal hunting tents in history books. Fast forward to Australia in the 2020s: glamping means bell tents with high thread-count sheets, cabins with full-on bathrooms, and even “eco pods” promising both sustainability and style. It’s a booming market—IBISWorld reported that as of 2024, glamping in Australia was growing at nearly 12% a year, with over 220 operators nationwide. That’s a big leap compared to nearly flat traditional camping trends.
Unlike stripped-back bush camping—think sleeping bag, billy over the fire, and BYO insect repellent—glamping typically includes queen beds, wi-fi, built-in lighting, and meals prepped by pros. It’s designed for people who love the sound of the wind in the trees, not the thought of getting grubby. The goal? Satisfy wanderlust while keeping modern comforts. Here’s where it gets interesting: many glamping sites now promote green credentials. They brag about composting toilets, solar panels, or rainwater tanks. But beneath the surface, how do these places really stack up environmentally?
Comparing Glamping to Traditional Camping: Environmental Trade-Offs
Alright, time to get real about impact. Regular camping is as no-frills as it gets—pack it in, pack it out, and sometimes, if you’re careful, you leave no trace. Glamping, on the other hand, relies on semi-permanent or permanent setups. Canvas tents on wooden platforms, yurts with water hookups, or even tiny homes built in the bush. It might look eco, but everything has a footprint.
Let’s talk resources. Setting up a glamp site usually needs more materials—timber platforms, permanent fire pits, water systems, power sources. Construction disturbs soil, displaces habitat, and sometimes brings in invasive weeds (the WA Department of Biodiversity notes this on their parks FAQ). Glamping kitchens and bathrooms, even eco-ready ones, demand more water and energy than boiling a billy. Sites with air-con? Power-hungry. Even “eco glamps” offering hot tubs and microwaves suck up bites of the grid or big doses of solar power. Here’s some context from an EnviroScience study in 2023:
| Accommodation | Avg Energy Use (kWh/night) | Water Use (Litres/night) |
|---|---|---|
| Traditional camping | ~0.5 | ~15 |
| Glamping (basic) | 3.5 | 50 |
| Hotel (4-star, urban) | 20 | 180 |
Notice, glamping’s footprint lands between camping and hotels—but a serious jump from bushwalk-style camping. That’s not counting the delivery vans bringing in linen or artisan breakfast baskets, or the road building for car access.
What about waste? Traditional campers often haul out their garbage (or they should). Glamping guests, used to hotel life, are more likely to generate single-use plastic or leave waste for staff to sort. Even toiletries—mini shampoos and soap bars—add up on landfill. Some glamp sites now hand out biodegradable toothbrushes and ban single-use plastics. It’s a start, but far from universal. If you're picking a glamp spot, ask about their waste management before you book.
Eco Labels, Greenwashing & The Facts About Eco-Friendly Glamping
Right now, anyone can slap “eco” or “low-impact” on a website, and plenty do. The lack of regulation is the dirty secret of eco-tourism. Sure, Australia has certification schemes like ECO Certification by Ecotourism Australia, but only about 15% of providers are fully certified (as reported by Tourism Research Australia, 2024). The rest? They might have rainwater tanks, but also heated towel rails and private car parks.
Real eco-glamping goes way beyond solar fairy lights. Top-tier sustainable sites focus on built-from-local-materials, 100% off-grid power, low-flush or composting toilets, greywater recycling, and no trace left on the land. Some even use mobile tents that move between seasons, helping the habitat recover. But, these are outliers; most glamping isn't this green. To spot the real deal, look for sites that:
- Hold recognized eco-certifications such as Advanced Ecotourism, EarthCheck, or similar.
- List clear, measurable eco-policies—waste, water, habitat, community engagement.
- Share transparent environmental impact data, not just glossy photos.
- Invite guests to offset carbon or take part in bushcare/planting programs.
Another sign is location—are they in national parks with tight controls, or are they breaking fresh ground in pristine wilderness, risking extra damage? Even the road to the site matters: if everyone drives their own SUV up a new gravel track cut into scrub, it’s not exactly low-impact.
Tips for Greener Glamping & Making a Real Positive Impact
So you want that plush doona under the stars, but without treading too hard on the earth? Good on you. Here's what you can do to keep glamping as green as possible:
- Pick certified sites—search for those proudly holding ECO Certification or international equivalents.
- Ditch daily linen changes. Reuse towels and bed linen, just like you do at home.
- Minimise plastic—bring your own toiletries, reusable coffee cups, cutlery, and shopping bags.
- If the site lets you, walk in or carpool rather than driving solo.
- Choose activities with a purpose—bushcare, wildlife spot-and-record, or join volunteer days if the place offers them.
- Support nearby local producers—food, wine, even crafts. This cuts supply emissions and helps communities.
- Keep wildlife wild—don’t feed animals, close up food stores, and respect boundaries.
- Ask about fire policies. Is the firewood locally and legally sourced? Some imported woods bring in disease or pests.
- If the glamp tent has its own power supply, switch off lights, chargers, and gadgets when not needed.
- Respect noise guidelines. Nature’s quiet is a resource—don’t ruin it for the birds (or the next guests).
Something most people don't realise: the greenest glamping uses existing infrastructure whenever possible. Repurposed farm sheds, old shearer’s quarters, or even upcycled railway carriages are way better for the environment than clearing bushland for new construction. When you see glamp sites with “low impact” listed, check if they built on previously disturbed land instead of untouched habitats.
Australia is actually seeing a new wave of super-green glamping start-ups. A couple of standout operators use tents that disappear at the end of season, rehabilitate soil, and replant endemic species. Some crowd-fund their conservation efforts or donate part of guest fees to local landcare projects. These places show it’s possible to blend style with stewardship, but they’re still rare.
One more concrete tip: consider offsetting your travel emissions if driving or flying to the site. Plenty of reputable schemes online (Carbon Neutral Australia, for one) let you invest in native revegetation projects right here.
Glamping can be Earth-kind if you make smart choices and hold sites accountable. Ask tough questions, choose wisely, and leave both your glamp pod and campsite better than you found them. That’s the best way to kick back under the Southern stars—and actually feel good about it.
