Suddenly tourism has become a dirty word and tourists feel more and more guilty about spending their hard-earned money and traveling to all corners of the world.
This is grossly unfair, and especially a shame because we Brits are the best (and yes, sometimes not the best) tourists in the world, with an insatiable appetite for discovering new places and returning to beloved old spots.
Of course the weather helps, but we are also attached to what Trollope called ‘the compelling duty of foreign travel’.
But it is not so much the overtourism that I struggle with, but the blatant shortsightedness of those who look down on the mass exodus that occurs at this time of year. That unerring need to be somewhere else.
We Brits are the best (and yes, sometimes not the best) tourists in the world, with an insatiable appetite for discovering new places and returning to beloved old spots.
The people who shoot water pistols at holidaymakers in Barcelona or occupy beaches in Mallorca should direct their fire at local politicians who have allowed free rein
Protesters wave banners calling for a reduction in tourism during a demonstration in Barcelona
Rarely a week goes by without someone getting on their high horse and complaining about the “inhumane” airport security checks, the crowds in the departure lounges and a delay or two.
The good news is that the whiners have a choice. They can stay put and never have to leave the doors of an airport again, so the rest of us can enjoy the freedom that travel in all its various forms offers.
My colleague Peter Hitchens — whose opinions I do not take lightly — wrote on these pages last week that he is “secretly ashamed” to be a tourist and prefers to call himself, with some bombast, a “traveller.”
“Remember that the place you are visiting … is not a Disneyland set up especially for you to inspect and enjoy,” he wrote. “Do not attempt to destroy the very thing you came to see.”
But if we were to avoid mass tourism and instead go to the places that capture Peter’s imagination, such as North Korea’s Pyongyang or Kazakhstan’s capital, Astana, it would really put a black hole in Britain’s finances.
Outbound tourism is worth around £80 billion a year to our national exchequer, a figure that includes revenue generated by airlines, tour operators and travel agents, and supports almost three million jobs.
Amid all the talk about economic growth, we should be encouraging the tourism industry, not questioning it.
That £80 billion is a tidy sum, but listen up, Rachel Reeves.
Research by the Advantage Travel Partnership, a coalition of independent travel agents, shows that beyond the basic costs of a holiday, we spend an average of £200 or more on related goods and services, including clothing, taxis, airport parking and the like.
The UK tourism industry — inbound and outbound — is expected to be worth more than £257 billion in all its forms next year, around 10 per cent of our GDP. It’s not all about money these days, as it was in the distant and not-so-distant past.
In Victorian times, the Grand Tour of Europe was the domain of a privileged minority, mostly men. Its purpose was to exercise the mind, provide heirlooms bought at far-flung flea markets, and serve as a means for sons of the aristocracy to have premarital sex without causing scandal.
Fortunately, Thomas Cook offered the first package holiday in 1851 (a trip to the World Exhibition in London, including train, hotel and tickets), but even in Britain after the Second World War it was only the wealthy who could afford to board a BOAC state plane and be served a three-course meal before landing on the Côte d’Azur, Barbados or Kenya.
And let’s not forget that the idea of getting paid for a day off, let alone a week or two, is a relatively new phenomenon. It wasn’t until the Holidays With Pay Act of 1938 that a week’s paid holiday a year was recommended – but not enforced – for full-time workers. Good old Sir Freddie Laker did his best to shake things up by launching the first ‘low cost/no frills’ airline in 1966, and although he crash-landed in 1982, the skies opened up for the likes of Ryanair, EasyJet, Tui and Jet2. It’s hard to think of a better example of levelling up.
Nearly 3,000 flights are due to depart from the UK tomorrow, according to aviation data analysts Cirium. Logistically, that’s a major feat – and we’ll no doubt hear about any shortcomings in the system.
But what about the successes? I fly in and out of Gatwick Airport regularly — and have developed a fondness for the place. It may not have the architectural kudos of Singapore Airport or Abu Dhabi’s £2.4bn terminal, which has become a tourist attraction in its own right, but on the whole it works.
Nearly 41 million passengers travelled through Gatwick last year and that number is expected to rise significantly by 2024.
Contrary to what the grumblers would have us believe, passing through security at the recently upgraded North Terminal is almost always a smooth ride. The mood is filled with anticipation of the carefree days ahead.
I even enjoy the meandering walk through the Duty Free, lined with neatly dressed and groomed beauticians who offer me a little cologne or something else.
Even at 6am they’ve freshened up, as if they’re ready for a night out. And that’s just the men.
No, I am not ashamed of being a tourist. There is actually nothing I like more. It is a chance to be a different person for a week or two, a chance not so much to find yourself as to lose yourself.
It may all be for nothing when you return home and throw your old junk in the same bins. But vacations don’t just literally get you from A to B; they can also transport you from one familiar reality to a world of new possibilities.
There is both a philosophical and a geographical answer to the question you get when you return from a holiday: ‘Where have you been?’
That’s why vacations can sometimes be unsettling. They raise questions about ourselves that are hard to answer. The old adage “wherever you go, there you are” is inevitable, just like the person looking back at me in the mirror every day is, alas, myself.
Of course there are concerns about tourism. But it is hardly the fault of tourists.
Those who shoot water pistols at holidaymakers in Barcelona or occupy beaches in Mallorca should be targeting local politicians who have allowed a free rein to buy up houses with the sole purpose of renting them out unregulated at exorbitant prices, making them unaffordable for locals.
But let us not forget that tourism has lifted many countries out of poverty, developed solid infrastructure and contributed to better health care and education.
It is estimated that tourism contributes 10 percent of global gross domestic product.
My older brother and I rarely went abroad as children. I think our parents — who got married in 1950 — thought it was a bit vulgar, extravagant, even decadent. My grandparents certainly did.
They lived in the Scottish Borders but never got further than Bournemouth, which my grandmother said was not a holiday but just a ‘different breath’.
The furthest my brother and I went was the Isle of Wight, but at the time it felt like we were in another country because of the ferry ride.
If my parents were alive today I am sure they would be queuing for speedy boarding at Gatwick. They might be annoyed at having to pay £90 for a suitcase in the hold.
Modern life has become so hard that getting away from it all has become untouchable.
When people were asked during and after the pandemic what they planned to cut back on as the cost of living continued to rise, few mentioned vacations.
All sorts of studies suggest the same thing: vacations are what many people live for. They have become central to our existence, a form of self-expression, an affirmation of family and friendship. A natural right.
What the hell is wrong with that?
