The amazing honor bestowed upon our villages and downtowns by the World Travel & Tourism Council (WTTC) should cause everybody in Vermont to look around them with new appreciation.

And that especially applies to people in the White River Valley.

At its meeting in Lisbon, Portugal last week, the WTTC declared that the best tourist "destination" in the world is the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. Second best, this world organization said, is Vermont and its assortment of relatively unspoiled—but vital—villages and downtowns.

Granted, this was a competition directed toward environmentally friendly destinations—Manhattan and the Trump Tower need not apply. But all the same, it was a remarkable recognition of what most Vermonters only vaguely appreciate—that our traditional downtowns, unencumbered by huge box stores or strip development, many of them looking much as they did 100 years ago, are something special in the world.

"We’re incredibly proud," said Erica Housekeeper of Vermont’s Department of Tourism & Marketing. "There’s clearly a growing appreciation for the unique local businesses, historical buildings, rich cultural activities, and strong sense of community found in our downtowns."

They are destinations that tourists truly appreciate, but they also have an important function for the people who live here, acting as a sort of community glue. Shopping at a store where you know the salesperson or owner, or where you’re likely to meet a half-dozen friends in a single trip—that’s a different kind of experience altogether than a shopping center with huge stores 30 miles distant (not that those don’t have their place, too).

It was one of former Gov. Howard Dean’s smartest insights—looking backwards and forwards at the same time—that Vermont’s downtowns should be recognized, kept up, planned, protected, and promoted. To that end he created an innovative program for "designated downtowns," which can bring extra funding and recognition to towns which take care of their business centers. The program was such a success that the "Village Center" designation was created later for smaller places.

Now, Dean’s vision has been projected onto a worldwide stage, and it has proven to be a powerful one. With luck, Vermont’s tourism officials can take advantage of the honor to direct more visitors to these villages—many of which are a bit out-of-the-way and could use the business.

It’s worth pointing out that Vermont’s downtowns are notable partly because so many of them are thriving. Twice recently, acquaintances of ours have returned from trips to the nation’s mid-section, reporting that the small towns there are a wreck. In town after town—Mark Twain’s Hannibal, for instance—a large percentage of the shops are shuttered or falling down. Little of the past remains, and little is expected of the future. That’s not true in Vermont.

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If Vermont has great villages, what are we to say about the White River Valley?

Just this—we’ve got some of the best.

Only Randolph has an officially-designated downtown, but there are a dozen official "villages," all of them worth a visit. Some of them embody the New England ideal, nestled around a common green space, with church and stores staking their own claims on the visitor’s eye. One thinks in this regard of South Royalton, Royalton, Rochester, Strafford with its incomparable Meeting House, and Chelsea—which has the unusual distinction of two commons.

Then there are the downtowns which speak of a history of commerce—Randolph, clustered around its railroad, or Bethel, clinging to the banks of the Third Branch, that has delivered water power for more than a century, and also presenting a latter-day park where the school used to be. Even the White River Valley villages without important public buildings still have a defineable center, a place where it can be said, "Here we are, in the middle of town."

To find out how unusual that is, take a trip to almost anywhere. So let’s be proud of what we’ve got, and take advantage of this new worldwide interest.