Last night’s entertainment: The Room Next Door, a Spanish film (directed by Pedro Almodóvar, in his English-language film debut), starring Julianne Moore and Tilda Swinton, with a small supporting cast including John Turturro. In spite of a few questionable structural issues (and an errant European electric socket in a scene in a house supposedly near Woodstock, New York), I thought the film was well-done. Swinton plays a war correspondent journalist who has terminal cancer and Moore, a published author, plays Swinton’s close friend from their youth. The story is about how the two of them deal with Swinton’s decision to commit suicide, rather than let cancer run its course…and how they deal with Swinton’s request that Moore be in “the room next door” when it happens. The film was thought-provoking and, given my situation, quite relevant. Swinton’s character revealed emotional considerations about which I am just now beginning to be aware. I thought I had easily come to grips with what lies ahead; hmm, not entirely, I realize. It is the sort of film that is best watched when the viewer’s mood is on the somber side.
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Who is to blame for unrestrained tourism? Tourists, of course. But tourism promoters and cruise ship operators and many others profit from unbridled pleasure travel. They facilitate excessive numbers of tourist visits and otherwise exacerbate the problems “locals” face when money-laden visitors invade…and then leave and take their wealth with them. The physical and emotional damage tourists spread in their wake seems to be growing, judging from the increasing numbers of reports of “locals” fighting to maintain the beauty and serenity of their homes. During my second trip to Dubrovnik, Croatia, I learned that local residents were active and vocal in their opposition to the increase in cruise ships disgorging waves of passengers into the city’s streets. Seven years ago, the mayor implemented measures to limit the number of daily cruise ship dockings to two and the number of their passengers allowed into the “old city” to five thousand. The reason: to curb over-tourism and preserve the city’s UNESCO World Heritage status. The degree to which that solution—and others tried in the intervening years—worked may be measured by over-tourism protests across Europe in the past several weeks.
Residents of Barcelona, in recent days, expressed their displeasure with excessive tourism by spraying tourists with water guns, setting off smoke bombs, and blocking hotel entrances, among other measures. Just in the last day or two, similar protests have taken place in Italy and Portugal and France. The Louvre has shut its doors (presumably a temporary measure) in response to a staff strike called in protest of overwhelming crowds. My own non-business visits to other countries’ tourism sites were limited, but I saw the massive crowds flood those sites when cruise ship passengers arrived en masse. Even the “small group” tours in which I have participated contributed to crowding, thanks to the sheer number of such tours.
On one hand, I strongly support travel and the ways in which it can open travelers’ eyes to other cultures. On the other, though, a massive influx of visitors can ruin the quality of life for local residents and otherwise change the character and the appeal of the culture to which tourists are exposed. The obvious solution is to…I do not know, of course. I wish I did. Freedom to do as we desire can place shackles on others; an elixir comprised of self-control and compassion might melt the chains.
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Finally, after going months and months and months without a professional haircut, I got one yesterday. Granted, during several of those months I had no hair to cut, but even when my hair began growing back it grew slowly and haphazardly. I self-trimmed it on occasion, but in hindsight I think I probably made it look worse, rather than better. Now, though, for at least a moment, my head of hair looks reasonably well-groomed…ignoring the inconsistencies of texture, color, and coverage. I drove myself to the barber shop, thereby launching into a foray into automotive freedom. If I had a convertible, I could have driven with the top down, the wind in my grey stubble, after the haircut.
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Time is relevant only when it can be experienced by objects within its sphere. “When” is a component of time. Wrapping one’s mind around time, whether relevant or not, tends to lead to uncertainty and a secret fear that time is just a replication of itself…like an endless array of mirrors reflecting on another in which there is no beginning and no end.
First, a haircut is an opportunity for a pretty young lady to wash your hair, compliment you, and massage your scalp. Forget the haircut and just go for the luxury.
Second, tourism. I think most if the problems to which you allude come from local politicians. Shortsighted and seeking votes, they place tourist dollars above their voter’s needs. They could easily remedy their issues with improvements in infrastructure, additional fees, and limitations on tourism profiteers. There has never been a tool more useful than money in remedying inequalities like you describe.
Bev, your perspective on tourism…from both “sides”…is intriguing. My take, too, is influenced by the “good” and the “bad” of tourism and tourists. It seems to me that the growing problem of over-tourism must have an equitable solution that would work for both local people (and their economies) and for tourists. A reduction in tourist numbers (or, perhaps, a way of “metering” tourist traffic) could make both tourists and locals a lot happier, I think. It hadn’t occurred to me that you live in an area targeted by tourists…but now that I think of it and how much I’ve always wanted to return to Nova Scotia, it makes sense! 🙂
Having lived in Bisbee (a tourist mecca of sorts) and currently near Annapolis Royal, I do have an opinion on “tourist season”. Most of us put up with it — try to be tolerant — because it’s good for the local businesses – hospitality as well as artisans, those who sell food, produce, etc.. at the local farmers’ markets, and so on. However, it does get pretty tiresome at times as you can’t find a parking space anywhere near the bank, post office or other places you might want to go and, in such small towns as Bisbee and Annapolis Royal, you may not even be able to find a space at all, which can be frustrating. Then there are the gawkers who gawk at all the historic architecture and everyone’s gardens, even when people are sitting on their porch. We’re all sort of “on display” during tourist season. It’s a bit weird and creepy. A friend in Bisbee actually posted a sign above their sunken patio saying something like, “These are our homes. Please don’t stand gawking at us and taking our photos when we are sitting in our garden!”
Traffic gets very bad, especially on Saturdays when the farmers’ market is on.. hoo boy.. talk about crazy. Then there are the bicycle tours using our “scenic, narrow, winding and hilly highway” as their main route – this is the highway that goes by in front of my house. Ever try to pass 30 cyclists strung out along a mile of highway, many of whom are pretty mediocre and are weaving back and forth across a whole lane as they try to peddle up and down the hills. It’s futile? The 10 minute drive to town can easily become more like 25 minutes, especially when you add in the tractors and farm equipment moving from one vegetable field or orchard to the next along the same little backroads highway. Then there are the “chopper runs” of motorcyclists going out touring or on their way to rallies and gatherings (one of the favourite gathering spots is just down the road – where “old bikers” like to get together on weekends. I guess the plus side of things is that the local grocery store stocks some items for the “summer people” that it doesn’t stock for we local “winter denizens”. The bakeries are all in full swing from May 1st to late autumn, so you can get great bread and pastries for that part of the year. There are a lot of live music events and festivals if you’re into that kind of thing. It makes jobs for young people who work at docents and other jobs at the several historic sites and museums in the area, or who aspire to learn to be bakers, or chefs, or gallery sitters. My brother who came to live here 2 summers ago just commented on how the town is getting busy and touristy. It’s actually not as touristy as it was before covid, but I have a feeling we’re going to have a very busy summer here this year — I’m seeing *a lot* of U.S. license plates — no doubt, people who are fleeing the states to try to have a somewhat relaxing summer in a foreign country without having to fly across an ocean. 🙂