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Anti-tourism protests are not new. They happened in ancient Rome, 19th-century England and after World War II
Anti-tourism protests are not new. They happened in ancient Rome, 19th-century England and after World War II

Japan Today

time15-07-2025

  • Japan Today

Anti-tourism protests are not new. They happened in ancient Rome, 19th-century England and after World War II

The Rialto Bridge is crowded with tourists, in Venice, Italy, on June 27. By Freya Higgins-Desbiolles This hot European summer, anti-tourism protests have made headlines, from Barcelona to Venice, Mallorca and the Canary Islands. The unrest is not confined to Europe, though. In Mexico City on July 4, peaceful protests against overtourism and gentrification by foreign 'digital nomads' turned violent, with a small group of protesters smashing storefront windows and ransacking stores. Earlier this year, Japan's tourism board urged Australians to swap Tokyo and Kyoto (where tourists have been accused of harassing geishas) for less-travelled destinations. Tourists have been criticized for behaving badly in Antarctica and Bali (where tourism accounts for 60–70% of its gross domestic product), too. While unrest about overtourism in Europe dates to at least 2017, this year marks a milestone: protests have been coordinated by community campaigners across the continent for the first time. Locals have resorted to anti-tourism graffiti in Athens, water pistol attacks in Italy, Portugal and Spain, and a water parade against cruise ships in Venice. Security warnings for travellers to Europe have been issued this northern summer season. Common complaints are overcrowding, housing unaffordability, and damage to physical and natural environments. Elsewhere in the world, concerns also include unbalanced tourism policies, insensitive tourists and real estate speculation. But local protests against tourism are not new. They have a long history: from ancient Rome and 19th-century Brighton, to Hawaii and the Caribbean after the rise of mass tourism in the 1950s. Ancient Rome and 19th-century Brighton Disliking tourists goes back to as long as people have moved for 'getaways'. In 51 AD, philosopher Seneca the Younger wrote about tourists escaping Rome for the beach: Why must I look at drunks staggering along the shore or noisy boating parties […] Who wants to listen to the squabbles of nocturnal serenaders? This could have been written by a local suffering the drunken excesses of 'stag tourism' in today's Amsterdam. The clash of cultures between the lives of locals, focused on work and family, and the 'leave-it-all-behind' spirit of visitors is timeless. The modern foundations for today's tourism were laid in the 1800s, in the United Kingdom. They included the tourism agency developed by Thomas Cook, the transport technologies of the railway and steamships, and a culture of touring established by what was known as the European Grand Tour. Protests and anti-tourism sentiment developed apace. In the UK, for example, the wealthy began to take seaside holidays. Resorts were developed to cater to them – but the residents' lives were often impacted by these newcomers. The 1827 riots in Brighton marked an early anti-tourism confrontation. Fishing boats were removed from the beachfront after tourists complained about their fishing nets being spread on the beach, and the surly presence of the fishers. The protests were suppressed, the boats displaced from the town's main beach and the tourists' sensibilities placated. In the 1880s, concerted protests and activism aimed to keep the railways from bringing trainloads of tourists to the UK's picturesque Lake District. 'The stupid herds of modern tourists let themselves be emptied like coals from a sack at Windermere and Keswick,' wrote philosopher John Ruskin. The protesters achieved at least a temporary victory. Cruise ships, theme parks and 'marketing aloha' Since World War II, however, the catalyst for these protests was the 'massification' of tourism. This results from a globalized and commercialized tourism industry. It is symbolized by cruise ships, jumbo jets and big theme parks. Mass tourism was the result of growing middle classes, granted paid holiday leave. Mass transport systems made tourism cheaper, more accessible and more wide ranging. A tourism culture developed, where certain segments of the global population began to see frequent holidays as a right, rather than a rare privilege. The classic book The Golden Hordes includes a chapter titled 'Paradise Rejected'. It documents local anti-tourism sentiment from the Caribbean to Hawaii to Europe. Authors Louis Turner and John Ash recount violent anti-tourism incidents in the 1970s in places like Jamaica. Governments often launched national 'smile campaigns' to try to prevent tourists from deserting their countries as destinations. This happened while many of these countries were decolonising and charting paths to independence. Indigenous Kanaka Ma'oli of Hawaii have protested tourism for decades, as the mass tourism industry developed. Tourism to Hawaii was partly based on abused aspects of their cultures, especially marketing 'aloha': romanticizing culture in stereotyped ways to appeal to travellers' exotic fantasies. Many of Hawaii's protests happened on its beaches where locals informed tourists of their political context – and about the tourism-induced housing crisis. From 2004, some local activists began leading 'Detours' for tourists, to share locals' views and tell alternative histories. More recently, Hawaiian residents protested the reopening of tourism too soon after the 2023 Maui fires by staging a 'fish-in'. A coalition organized locals to fish in front of tourism resorts at Kaanapali Beach, to draw attention to residents' lack of permanent housing and the slow speed of post-disaster recovery. This is a clear example of touristification, where residents feel tourism success is prioritised over local wellbeing. This postwar era also saw governments competing to host sporting mega-events, in part for the tourism spinoffs. Brazil's cities were rocked by social movement protests against the enormous costs of hosting soccer's 2014 FIFA World Cup. Riot police were called to suppress the demonstrations. Protests may soon give way to more comprehensive community strategies. Social movements are organising against overtourism and touristification. For example, a Congress just held in Barcelona (from July 3-6) gathered participants from all around Europe to build learning coalitions to empower communities. It was convened by the global network Stay Grounded. Looking back, 'anti-tourism' might be the wrong term. Local communities are not necessarily against tourists and tourism. They are against disrespectful tourists, a growth-driven tourism industry and governments that fail to manage tourism effectively in the interest of their local residents. For a very long time now, it has been clear we need to do better – and fed-up local communities are taking matters into their own hands. Freya Higgins-Desbiolles is Adjunct professor and adjunct senior lecturer in tourism management, University of South Australia. The Conversation is an independent and nonprofit source of news, analysis and commentary from academic experts. External Link © The Conversation

Anti-tourism protests are not new. They happened in ancient Rome, 19th-century England and after World War II
Anti-tourism protests are not new. They happened in ancient Rome, 19th-century England and after World War II

The Advertiser

time09-07-2025

  • The Advertiser

Anti-tourism protests are not new. They happened in ancient Rome, 19th-century England and after World War II

Disliking tourists goes back to as long as people have moved for getaways. By Freya Higgins-Desbiolles, University of South Australia Picture: Mika Baumeister/Unsplash This hot European summer, anti-tourism protests have made headlines, from Barcelona to Venice, Mallorca and the Canary Islands. The unrest is not confined to Europe, though. Subscribe now for unlimited access. or signup to continue reading All articles from our website The digital version of Today's Paper All other in your area In Mexico City on Friday, peaceful protests against overtourism and gentrification by foreign "digital nomads" turned violent, with a small group of protesters smashing storefront windows and ransacking stores. Earlier this year, Japan's tourism board urged Australians to swap Tokyo and Kyoto (where tourists have been accused of harassing geishas) for less-travelled destinations. Tourists have been criticised for behaving badly in Antarctica and Bali (where tourism accounts for 60-70% of its gross domestic product), too. Common complaints are overcrowding, housing unaffordability, and damage to physical and natural environments. Elsewhere in the world, concerns also include unbalanced tourism policies, insensitive tourists and real estate speculation. But local protests against tourism are not new. They have a long history: from ancient Rome and 19th-century Brighton, to Hawaii and the Caribbean after the rise of mass tourism in the 1950s. Ancient Rome and 19th-century Brighton Disliking tourists goes back to as long as people have moved for "getaways". In 51 AD, philosopher Seneca the Younger wrote about tourists escaping Rome for the beach: Why must I look at drunks staggering along the shore or noisy boating parties [...] Who wants to listen to the squabbles of nocturnal serenaders? This could have been written by a local suffering the drunken excesses of "stag tourism" in today's Amsterdam. The clash of cultures between the lives of locals, focused on work and family, and the "leave-it-all-behind" spirit of visitors is timeless. The modern foundations for today's tourism were laid in the 1800s, in the United Kingdom. They included the tourism agency developed by Thomas Cook, the transport technologies of the railway and steamships, and a culture of touring established by what was known as the European Grand Tour. Protests and anti-tourism sentiment developed apace. Picture: Marcelo Rangel on Unsplash In the UK, for example, the wealthy began to take seaside holidays. Resorts were developed to cater to them - but the residents' lives were often impacted by these newcomers. The 1827 riots in Brighton marked an early anti-tourism confrontation. Fishing boats were removed from the beachfront after tourists complained about their fishing nets being spread on the beach, and the surly presence of the fishers. The protests were suppressed, the boats displaced from the town's main beach and the tourists' sensibilities placated. In the 1880s, concerted protests and activism aimed to keep the railways from bringing trainloads of tourists to the UK's picturesque Lake District. "The stupid herds of modern tourists let themselves be emptied like coals from a sack at Windermere and Keswick," wrote philosopher John Ruskin. The protesters achieved at least a temporary victory. Cruise ships, theme parks and 'marketing aloha' Since World War II, however, the catalyst for these protests was the "massification" of tourism. This results from a globalised and commercialised tourism industry. It is symbolised by cruise ships, jumbo jets and big theme parks. Mass tourism was the result of growing middle classes, granted paid holiday leave. Mass transport systems made tourism cheaper, more accessible and more wide ranging. A tourism culture developed, where certain segments of the global population began to see frequent holidays as a right, rather than a rare privilege. The classic book The Golden Hordes includes a chapter titled "Paradise Rejected". It documents local anti-tourism sentiment from the Caribbean to Hawaii to Europe. Authors Louis Turner and John Ash recount violent anti-tourism incidents in the 1970s in places like Jamaica. Governments often launched national "smile campaigns" to try to prevent tourists from deserting their countries as destinations. This happened while many of these countries were decolonising and charting paths to independence. Indigenous Kanaka Ma'oli of Hawaii have protested tourism for decades, as the mass tourism industry developed. Tourism to Hawaii was partly based on abused aspects of their cultures, especially marketing "aloha": romanticising culture in stereotyped ways to appeal to travellers' exotic fantasies. Many of Hawaii's protests happened on its beaches where locals informed tourists of their political context - and about the tourism-induced housing crisis. From 2004, some local activists began leading "Detours" for tourists, to share locals' views and tell alternative histories. More recently, Hawaiian residents protested the reopening of tourism too soon after the 2023 Maui fires by staging a "fish-in". A coalition organised locals to fish in front of tourism resorts at Kaanapali Beach, to draw attention to residents' lack of permanent housing and the slow speed of post-disaster recovery. This is a clear example of touristification, where residents feel tourism success is prioritised over local wellbeing. This postwar era also saw governments competing to host sporting mega-events, in part for the tourism spinoffs. Brazil's cities were rocked by social movement protests against the enormous costs of hosting soccer's 2014 FIFA World Cup. Riot police were called to suppress the demonstrations. Protests may soon give way to more comprehensive community strategies. Social movements are organising against overtourism and touristification. For example, a Congress just held in Barcelona (from July 3-6) gathered participants from all around Europe to build learning coalitions to empower communities. It was convened by the global network Stay Grounded. Looking back, "anti-tourism" might be the wrong term. Local communities are not necessarily against tourists and tourism. They are against disrespectful tourists, a growth-driven tourism industry and governments that fail to manage tourism effectively in the interest of their local residents. For a very long time now, it has been clear we need to do better - and fed-up local communities are taking matters into their own hands.

Volcano tourism is booming, but is it too risky?
Volcano tourism is booming, but is it too risky?

Yahoo

time03-06-2025

  • Health
  • Yahoo

Volcano tourism is booming, but is it too risky?

On June 2, 2025, Italy's Mount Etna, one of Earth's most active volcanoes, erupted again, releasing what experts called a 'lava fountain' that sent tourists rushing downhill to safety. In late March 2021, thousands of people in Iceland hiked into the Geldingadalur valley to watch fiery lava splutter and spill from the crater of the Fagradalsfjall volcano after it erupted for the first time in nearly 800 years. As white ash clouds puffed above trails of glowing, molten rock inching through craggy black stones, some visitors took photos, others sat in quiet awe, and a few toasted marshmallows over the lava flows. Photographer Chris Burkard, who captured the eruption for National Geographic, was transfixed by the ominous-but-beautiful landscape too. 'It was mesmerizing,' he says. 'I never thought something as simple as molten rock would get me this excited.' The aftermath of eruptions has created famously fertile ground for tourism. Japanese tourists have bunked at onsen ryokans (hot springs inns) in villages near volcanoes since the 8th century. The ruins of the ancient Roman city of Pompeii, preserved by a blanket of ashes when Mount Vesuvius erupted in A.D. 79, lured countless sightseers on the European Grand Tour in the 17th and 18th centuries. But the steam, crackle, and pop of active volcanoes has an allure all its own. 'They're one of the most primeval forces of nature that we can observe,' says Benjamin Hayes, chief of interpretation and education for Hawaii Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island. 'You feel the power of Mother Earth near this lifeblood of the planet.' Traveling to an active volcano isn't without risks and ethical questions. It can be the thrill of lifetime—or a fatal attraction. Before you get fired up to see one, here's what you should know. In the last decade, volcano tourism has boomed, fueled in part by social media and so-called 'lava chasers.' They seek legendary, photogenic smoking spots like Mount Vesuvius (and the other two dozen-plus active volcanic sites on the UNESCO World Heritage List). In the United States, several national parks feature active volcanoes, including Mount Rainier in Washington State, Lassen Peak in California, and the Yellowstone Caldera in Wyoming. The day after the Island of Hawaii's Mount Kilauea erupted on December 20, 2020, Hawaii Volcanoes National Park saw a sharp spike in visitors. Many of the 8,000 guests were locals, but the park also saw a steady increase of out-of-state visitors as COVID-19 travel restrictions eased. Depending on the place, travelers can take lava boat tours, hop helicopter trips over calderas, surf down the slopes of a volcano, or even walk to the edge of the lava lake. But these endeavors come with risk. Eruptions often produce poisonous gasses (e.g., sulfur dioxide, present at Fagradalsfjall) that can damage your lungs. Between 2010 and 2020, at least 1,143 people have been killed in volcanic explosions, most recently near New Zealand's Whakaari/White Island volcano, which suddenly erupted December 9, 2019, killing 22 tourists and injuring 25 others. (Visiting a volcano? Here's how to stay safe.) Yet, these casualties seem to have fueled curiosity rather than deterred tourism. Instead of steering clear of erupting volcanoes, sensation seekers are drawn to disaster areas—a trend expected to continue after the pandemic. Volcanic eruptions happen when there's an increase in magma-static pressure or a shift in tectonic plates, which can also spur earthquakes. Sometimes, erosion or melting glaciers slowly move the earth and eventually spur eruptions; other times sudden landslides trigger them. Volcanic activities are monitored by scientific observatories around the world, so blow ups are rarely a surprise. (For a bit of armchair volcanology, use the Smithsonian Institution's online active eruption tracker.) 'If you know some of the basics, you can observe eruptions fairly safely,' says Rosaly M.C. Lopes, a volcanologist and planetary geologist at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, California. 'We're lucky that the most beautiful eruptions—in Hawaii, Iceland, and Stromboli, Italy—are also not the most explosive ones.' Author of the Volcano Adventure Guide, Lopes says it's important to know the type of volcanoes you're visiting. The volatility of a given site depends on its lava: thin and runny lava flows out of the volcano slowly, while thick and viscous lava makes it difficult for gas to escape, resulting in more explosive (and possibly, deadly) eruptions. Knowing which sort you are dealing with could potentially save your life. When Italy's Mount Etna erupted in 1987, two tourists were killed. Lopes was only a mile away on a research trip when it happened. 'If it's a volcano like Etna, and there is a sudden explosion, look up and see where these rock fragments are going to land,' she says. 'But you don't run; you dodge them. And after fragments land, you run.' On the opposite spectrum, during the sudden eruption of New Zealand's Whakaari/White Island volcano, Lopes says those who survived were likely the ones who sprinted the fastest. 'Some people stayed to take photos. I think some just got caught and couldn't run fast enough,' she says. 'But that is a dangerous volcano, and volcanologists knew it could have a sudden explosion.' There are more than 1,500 active volcanoes in 81 countries. For the hundreds of millions of people who reside near them, they're just a part of daily life, like bad traffic or frequent rain. One of Japan's most active volcanos, Sakurajima in Kagoshima Prefecture in Kyushu, erupts every four to 24 hours. 'The people of Kagoshima don't even bother looking up when Sakurajima erupts, it happens so often,' says Alex Bradshaw, director of Overseas Communications of Kagoshima Prefecture. (Learn what it's like to live beside a volcano.) The relationship between Sakurajima and the locals is reciprocal. Fertile soil near the volcano helps Kagoshima grow its famed daikon radishes and tiny komikan oranges. 'Without Sakurajima there would be no Kagoshima. It's the symbol of our city, and the people here view it as a protective god,' says Naoto Maesako, owner of Kagoshima City's Yogan Yaki restaurant, where vegetables, kurobuta pork, and wagyu beef are cooked on hot plates made from local lava. 'We feel that Sakurajima sees us through typhoons and other disasters safely. It's our history right in front of us, and we can see the same smoldering scene as our ancestors did.' In Hawaii, the connection between volcanoes and residents is a part of the islands' origin story. Ancient Hawaiian chants refer to Pele, goddess of volcanoes and fire, as 'she who shapes the sacred land.' 'The Hawaiian people have been here and have flourished for more than 1,000 years,' says Hayes. 'It's impossible not to be connected deeply with generations of cherished stories, ancestors, and family connection to the 'aina—the land.' Some volcano tourism veers close to disaster or dark tourism. In 2010, 353 people died and more than 400,000 people lost their homes when Indonesia's Mount Merapi erupted. Soon after, tour companies popped up specifically to offer excursions to the ash-buried villages. It is an echo of the human casts and imprints at Pompeii, which reveal a terrifying account of the final days of its residents. (Learn about 'dark tourism'' and why travelers are drawn to disasters.) In 2018, Mount Kīlauea's continued eruptions destroyed approximately 600 homes, as well as roads, farms, and ranches, on the Island of Hawaii. That May, while fires still raged in neighborhoods, tourist spending increased by 3.3. percent to $173.9 million. Hospitality companies had to balance meeting traveler's needs with sensitivity towards affected residents. Ross Birch, executive director of the Island of Hawaii Visitors Bureau, encourages tourists who are curious about volcanoes to stick to the national park. 'It's a great place to learn about the volcanoes,' Birch says. 'Anything outside of that, you might cross into private property and potentially end up in someone's backyard.' Hawaiian Volcano Observatory (HVO) geologist Frank Trusdell recalls that within 24 hours of the Mauna Loa eruption in 1984, plane tickets to the Island of Hawaii were sold out. 'Everybody wanted to come to see the eruption,' he says. Scientists like Trusdell understand why people are drawn to volcanoes, and they believe this helps raise aware and interest in volcanology. 'Every time you go somewhere that you see a geological process—even if it's fairly tame volcanos like Yellowstone geysers—it awakens your curiosity,' says Lopes. 'It gives you a much greater respect for our planet.' This story originally published on April 2, 2021. It has been updated.

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