Five years ago, during the summer of 2018, I traveled to Venice, Dubrovnik and the Isle of Skye to present a series of videos about a bass word that seemed to be swirling around, relentlessly, like one of those plucked toys which European falconers throw aloft i. the air to entertain our children. “Overtourism.”
The issues in these three destinations were diverse, but there were shared themes. Environmental damage. The prices out from the locals. Pollution. Crowding at bottleneck locations. It seemed that tourism was not working properly.
But across all these destinations, the tourist was universally respected. I remember talking to a man named Tommaso on the Venetian island of Sacca Fisola. His mission was to save Venice from over-tourism, and yet he had nothing bad to say about the tourists themselves.
“It’s not a respectable problem if a young person doesn’t have much money and eats a sandwich on the steps. This,” he said, pointing to a huge cruise ship coming in, “this is disrespect for the city.” It was their problem, not the tourists’, to solve.
But in 2023, in certain destinations, the finger of blame has turned away from tourism and towards tourism. And he is not targeting any old tourist, he is pointing bang smack into the freckled nose of the British holiday.
In Amsterdam, the “Fan Away” campaign, launched earlier this year, sent videos onto the screens of British ladies as they browsed for trips to the beleaguered city. They showed young, inebriated men getting arrested and fined. It was a blunt, transparent message from a blunt, transparent nation. Stay out. A two-word teaching that felt like a slightly less polite two-word teaching. Recent figures suggest that it has not worked as well as planned.
Meanwhile, Lanzarote’s president, María Dolores Corujo, said in March that the island needs to reduce its dependence on the British market and “look for higher quality holidaymakers who spend more when they are here “. Germans, for example. The new right-wing Balearic government has also revealed plans to fine holidaymakers €36,000 (£31,000) if found guilty of the highly dangerous act of balcony jumping (balcony jumping into a swimming pool), and throw them out and maybe even banned. British tourists if they misbehave next summer.
Are these targeted messages justified? I suppose if a guest came to my house and jumped through the window before urinating on my front door, I would probably ask them to “stay away” too. Or if my fake dinner guests systematically ruined my home with their football chants, their demands for full English and their fondness for blue cocktails, I too might consider inviting a continental genius for tea mint, instead.
But the point is I don’t have a sex worker dancing around in my front window (Lewes wouldn’t approve), and I don’t have a big sign outside my front door offering a free shot of absinthe with every part of baked beans you order.
I know that the British tourist is not always the best class, or the best behaved, but he feels that the scrutiny of the product should fall as much as the customer. Amsterdam is one of the only places in Europe where you can casually and easily buy sex or cannabis. You can also pay €300 to “catch” your friend on his stag, if you wish. Despite efforts to water it down, the party industry continues to thrive in the Red Light District.
And Lanzarote may be turning its attention to a better type of holidaymaker, but there are still whole strips (Avenida de las Playas, for example) that cater to the British tourist they now seem to be after to keep away. I just went on Street View and within five seconds I found a bar offering buckets of beer and a Sunday roast.
British tourists aren’t the only ones causing their holidays to go haywire. According to our expert panel, Germans infuriate the Dutch when they insist they speak German, the French are very rude to Americans, and the Portuguese have few kind words to say about their Spanish neighbors. Anti-social behavior manifests itself in all sorts of ways.
And any conversation about Brits abroad is incomplete without a word on the seismic economic impact our holiday abroad will have. Last year, UK residents made 71 million trips abroad (about one per person) and spent more than £58 billion on their travels. We travel, especially to the Med, we spend, and we have a tiny but very loud minority who cause us trouble when we are away.
There have been plenty of examples of sensible, non-inflammatory tourism control measures in recent years. Last month, San Sebastian came out saying that it would limit the number of new hotels that could be opened in the city, to ensure that the city remains usable for the locals. In Maya Bay, Thailand, the authorities closed the beach for three years between 2019 and 2022 (admittedly easier due to the pandemic) to allow the coral reef to recover. Florence has banned Airbnb to reverse the city’s housing crisis. Seville made it mandatory for vacation rentals to install noise meters, to limit late-night disturbances. No one laid a finger on the tourist.
I have seen for myself the impact that mass tourism can have on destinations and I understand why some tourist boards are tempted to take the “stay off” line. But to do so misses the heart of the problem. It’s like planting a few cheap flowers in your garden, and getting so angry at the bees that come to pollinate them every year that you spray “buzz off” on your own fence and spend your days ask them to mobilize. If you want hummingbirds and butterflies, I’m afraid you’ll have to renovate the entire flower bed and plant the relevant seeds.