Jeniffer Patricia Loaiza Arrieta
The unexpected tourist reappears: The venezuelan migrant as a tourist in their homeland
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Jeniffer Patricia Loaiza Arrieta
The unexpected tourist reappears: The venezuelan migrant as a tourist in their homeland
This phenomenon, driven by nostalgia and a newly emerging economic openness, has led a large number of Venezuelans living abroad to plan their vacations in their home country—as tourists with greater purchasing power and a deep need for reconnection.
This resurgence not only revitalizes the Venezuelan economy by generating tourism revenue and local employment, but also sends a message: Venezuela is once again attractive to its returning sons and daughters, and to those eager to discover it for the first time.
This tourism is not a passing trend; it represents a genuine movement of emotional and economic reinvestment. Rebuilding the bond with their homeland through tourism can foster community, employment, and pride. Moreover, it offers unique opportunities for the curious visitor to discover that Venezuela is a mosaic of cultures, climates, and landscapes, with a narrative of resilience that inspires.
Venezuelan tourists returning to their country are injecting new energy into the national tourism sector, while also confronting a complex and often bittersweet reality—their deep need to reconnect with their roots and visit places that were once out of reach due to economic hardship.
Tourism analysts in Venezuela report that between 60% and 70% of arrivals to the country are Venezuelans who have lived abroad for years. Between January 2023 and May 2025, hundreds of Venezuelans living overseas have visited their homeland. These visits typically occur during peak seasons such as December, Easter, Carnival, and summer vacations in the northern hemisphere.
Although there are no consolidated official statistics that capture diaspora tourism, estimates can be made based on general arrival flows and insights from industry actors such as travel agents. Considering the Venezuelan diaspora, which exceeds 7.7 million people according to the Inter-Agency Coordination Platform for Refugees and Migrants (R4V), it is inferred that a significant percentage of international arrivals belong to this segment.
The Ministry of Popular Power for Tourism (MINTUR) provides aggregate arrival figures, but official statistics do not offer a breakdown that allows for precise quantification of how many of these visitors are Venezuelans residing abroad. This limitation is acknowledged by industry associations. Leudo González, president of the Venezuelan Tourism Council (Conseturismo), has pointed out the difficulty of distinguishing in official figures between a traditional foreign tourist and a Venezuelan with a foreign passport or residence abroad who comes as a tourist to visit family and share the experience with relatives.
One of the main drivers for these tourists is nostalgia—healing the wounds of years of separation. Being with family, celebrating them, and sharing these tourism experiences together is the principal reason for their return.
Unlike the traditional tourist, the Venezuelan living abroad travels with an emotional weight and a purpose that transcends leisure. The primary motivation is, without a doubt, family reunion. After years of separation forced by the migration crisis, the possibility of embracing parents, siblings, and children becomes the main reason for the trip.
Nostalgia is another powerful draw. The desire to walk once again through childhood streets, savor traditional dishes, and relive traditions anchored in collective memory drives many to make the journey home. As one migrant, Ana María, says: “I wanted my children to see where I grew up, to have ice cream at the same place I did.” This Venezuelan engineer living in Colombia visited Caracas in December 2024—a story that could be echoed by countless Venezuelans living not only in Colombia but also in Spain, Mexico, the United States, Ecuador, and many other countries.
In addition, an emerging sense of economic improvement and security in certain urban “bubbles” such as Caracas, Valencia, and Margarita Island has encouraged some Venezuelans abroad to see the trip as more feasible and safer than in past years. Access to foreign currency allows them to afford goods and services that are out of reach for the average Venezuelan. Restaurants, hotels, and leisure activities that have flourished in the informal dollarized economy form part of the itinerary of these visitors, enabling them to share these experiences with family members who otherwise could not afford them. This spending provides a direct injection of capital into a sector that has been severely affected by the crisis.
The journey of Venezuelans returning as tourists to their homeland is marked by duality: the joy of reunion and reconnection on the one hand, and the stark reality of a country that has changed dramatically on the other.
Yet these tourists also face the structural problems that persist in the country—precarious public services, gasoline and electricity shortages, and hyperinflation which, though slowed, continues to erode the value of the bolívar.
“It’s a bittersweet experience,” says Rubén, a designer living in Spain who visited his family in Mérida in 2024. “You enjoy the food, the people, but when you step outside the restaurant bubble, you encounter the reality of people struggling every day.”
These trips by Venezuelans are deeply personal. They not only provide much-needed economic relief to a struggling sector, but also build a bridge of reconnection between the Venezuela that left and the one fighting to reinvent itself. The future of this tourism flow will largely depend on the evolution of the country’s economic and social conditions and the sector’s ability to adapt to the needs and expectations of this very particular type of tourist.
Ultimately, the temporary return of the diaspora is more than an arrival statistic. It is a complex phenomenon that reflects the indestructible bonds to the homeland and serves as an unexpected source of economic resilience. While the Venezuelan government presents macro figures of tourism recovery, it is the thousands of reunions at Simón Bolívar International Airport in Maiquetía that truly tell the story of a country that, through its families abroad, finds new ways to stay afloat and connected to the world.
Venezuela is a country rich in natural and cultural landscapes: towering waterfalls, Caribbean beaches, mountain ranges, dunes, and indigenous paradises. A multifaceted destination that could become a benchmark for renewed tourism.
The country boasts an enviable tourism offering: snowy peaks in Mérida, the enigmatic Médanos de Coro—shifting dunes that transport you to a desert in the middle of the Caribbean in Falcón—paradisiacal islands like Los Roques, an archipelago of cays and islands with turquoise waters and white sands, Mochima, La Tortuga Island, Margarita Island—the pearl of the Caribbean—and more. Venezuela is home to Angel Falls, the world’s tallest waterfall, considered one of the wonders of the world, located in Bolívar state within Canaima National Park. Adventure lovers can explore the Gran Sabana with its impressive waterfalls and unique rock formations like Mount Roraima. Unique cities with colonial architecture and rich history, such as Caracas, Valencia, and La Guaira, also await.
The true invitation is this: come and see not only what we have lost, but what we have preserved, reactivated, and what we can build together. Now is the time to fall in love with Venezuela again—and to inspire the world to do the same.
The Venezuelan migrant returning as a tourist reminds us of something essential: Venezuela is not just a territory. It is a shared emotion, a living memory, a promise yet to be fulfilled, a hope. And if those who left with little now return with the will to reconnect, it is because they still believe—and see the opportunity to believe—that it is possible to create new experiences or share them with family, friends, and anyone in the countries where they now live, inviting them to discover Venezuela. And if they believe, perhaps we all can believe again.
Tourism in Venezuela opens the door to something inexplicable, something many may not understand. But surviving, being resilient, and adapting to a harsh reality that has left deep marks on the hearts of every Venezuelan migrant is a way of showing that hope is the last thing to be lost—and that anything is possible. Leaving the country is not in vain, but a leap of faith in one day returning, no longer as a tourist.
Author: Jeniffer Patricia Loaiza Arrieta
Specialty/Role: Bachelor’s degree in Tourism and Director of the travel and tourism agency Entravel Tours in Colombia.
The authors are responsible for the choice and presentation of the facts contained in this document and for the opinions expressed therein, which are not necessarily those of Tourism and Society Think Tank and do not commit the Organization, and should not be attributed to TSTT or its members.
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