By Katrijn Geerts
In the travel journalism classes of travel narrative by David Farley, one principle kept coming back: finding an angle. It is the core of every strong travel story. The destination itself isn’t unique—we all share the same landscapes—but the way you look at it is. The creativity to find a meaningful angle, the research to make sure you’re adding something new, and the personal touch that makes a story believable: these are the foundations of travel journalism. And those insights have become the starting point of my thesis.
The power of an angle
What I take with me most is that an angle doesn’t appear magically. You have to dig. Search. Compare. You begin by asking what has already been written, and then what is still missing. You also need to know which people can carry your story: whose voices add depth? Whose experience opens a door that would otherwise stay closed?
It’s not only about creativity—it’s also about responsibility. Research isn’t just fact-checking, it’s questioning your own perspective.
Morocco: a country with two destinations
When I apply this journalistic lens to Morocco, I suddenly see how sharp the contrast is. Glossy magazines talk about “the world’s most unique bedrooms.” About sleeping under the stars, luxury Berber camps in the desert, promises of silence, authenticity, a kind of magical escape. Morocco as a dream destination.
But during an internship with unaccompanied minor refugees a few months ago, I met Amza. Amza escaped Morocco.
He was 17—or older; no one knew for sure. He had no official papers. In Belgium, you receive guidance until the day you turn eighteen. After that, you’re expected to fend for yourself. With no diploma. No family. No social network. Returning to Morocco was not an option. Not for him, not for his family, who had invested in his departure. He had to “make it” in Belgium.
And so I kept asking myself one lingering question: Where was Amza supposed to sleep the day he turned 18?
A different “unique bedroom”
While tourists are attracted by images of beautifully staged tents in the Sahara, Amza faced a very different reality. His “unique bedroom” was not an intentionally designed Instagram-perfect place under the stars. It was an uncertain night in an unfamiliar country, without guidance, without security, without future prospects. And that image—that stark contrast between two ways of looking at the same country—became my angle.
Suddenly I understood even better what those classes were about: you don’t find an angle in the tourist décor, but in the cracks between it. In the people you meet. In the stories that never make it into travel brochures.
How travel journalism shapes my final master proof
My final master proof begins with that contrast:
How can one country be a place to escape to and a place to escape from at the same time?
This tension is my angle.
And it is one I could only recognize because I learned to look like a travel journalist:
- by creatively searching for an angle that goes beyond clichés;
- by researching what is and isn’t being said about a destination;
- by understanding that authenticity only exists when you dare to include uncomfortable stories;
- and most importantly: by placing a human being at the center, not a destination.
Amza’s story isn’t a tourist story. But it is a travel story. It is the story of someone who crossed a border not to find himself, but to survive. And because of that, his story exposes the contrasts that travel journalism often glosses over.
Finding an angle is finding a truth
Perhaps that is the biggest insight I’ve taken with me: an angle must not only be original—it must be honest. It should reveal something that otherwise stays invisible. Something that lives between the lines of the tourist narrative.
In my case, it is the simple, confronting question:
Who has the luxury to see the country as a destination, and who is forced to leave it behind?
The answer doesn’t lie in brochures. It lies in stories like Amza’s—and in the responsibility to tell them.
This article is part of the practical work carried out by students on the Master’s Degree in Travel Journalism at the School of Travel Journalism.
