Tag Archives: Barcelona

Tourism: Boon, Bane, Both?

This spring, I traveled with my husband to two European cities—our first international trip since the start of the covid pandemic. Judging by the crowds we encountered at prime tourist sites, we were far from the world’s only “post-covid tourists.” We were lucky enough to be able to afford about a month each at small rental apartments in Barcelona and then Paris—a wonderful chance to get some different perspectives about how a more resilient human world might work. 

Both Barcelona and Paris get considerable income from tourism. According to official figures, almost 26 million visitors made an overnight stay in the Barcelona region in 2023, spending 12.75 billion euros ( or 13.8 billion dollars). About 100 million visitors come to France in non-covid years, making it the most visited country in the world, with Paris one of its most visited cities. In 2023, Parisian tourism generated revenues of 63 billion euros. Tourism in each city employs over ten percent of the work force—an important component of their overall economies.

The proprietors of our rental units were accommodating and helpful. Our lodgings contained useful tour guides with hints to optimize our access to both famous and lesser known sites. In both cities, there were many restaurants and food choices, including some at affordable prices. During our journey, we did not encounter any personal rudeness or threatening behavior. However, there were a few worrisome signs in our surroundings.  

One day in Barcelona, we visited its museum of contemporary art, tucked away along a side street an easy walk from our apartment. The building itself is a work of art, filled with adaptable exhibit spaces and easy access ramps. Outside is an extensive plaza where we watched young men and women practicing their skateboard moves. As we left the area, I noticed a large mural on an adjacent wall. The overall wording was beyond my elementary Spanish or my even more limited Catalan, but the message was clear. The accompanying graphic, a “welcome mat” inscribed in English with “Not Welcome,” told me what I needed to know.

tourist caution in Barcelona

Recently, some locals expressed similar sentiments by going to prime tourist venues and squirting patrons with water pistols. 

Protests in Barcelona are partly due to the way tourist lodging seems to distort available housing stocks. Though the rental income from our apartment helped sustain our proprietor’s family, it may also have helped drive up longer term rental prices for local residents. Not just in Europe, but in resort areas in the U.S. as well, we’ve heard laments by long-term residents about the hollowing out of local cultures and services when a town or region becomes too dependent on tourism. 

A ski resort, a summer retreat, a place to go to view autumn colors, a city with an abundance of museums and historic sites—none of these by themselves support local transportation infrastructure, schools, or other public services. Tax revenue can fall short of providing the level of services wanted. If too many non-tourism-related locals leave, the networks of volunteer groups that help make a community thrive can wither and die. Similarly, becoming too dependent on tourism can exacerbate income and wealth inequalities. Service workers crucial to successful tourism can find it impossible to afford housing near where they work. Long-distance commutes, sub-standard housing, and exhausted workers then can blemish even the poshest resort.

Tourism-driven economies can also generate excess trash and pollution. The streets of old town Barcelona were sometimes cramped, loud, and dirty. Traffic jams all over the area were getting more frequent and disruptive. In Paris, tourist taxis sped by our building nearly 24/7, along with police cruisers, sometimes with sirens blaring. They made it more difficult for visitors and locals alike to get needed rest.  

Finally, as covid so dramatically showed us, tourism is not a “core” industry. In a health crisis, millions of erstwhile tourists will stay home, leaving hotels and restaurants standing vacant, their staffs suddenly unemployed. 

An appropriate level of tourism will vary from place to place. Paris, for centuries a tourist magnet, may be more robust than most in its efforts to be a “host city” that works. In a week or so, it will become the site of the 2024 Olympic games, estimated to bring in about half again as many as its already abundant annual influx of tourists. 

While governments and economists continue to wrestle with how to “solve” the tourism conundrum, those of us who travel and/or host can help make tourism more mutually rewarding. As travelers, we can prepare with some basic education about the places we plan to visit, make responsible choices in itineraries and accommodations, use our best manners and be respectfully curious about habits and customs different from what we’re used to “back home.” As hosts, we can be more patient than we might be with fellow locals, do our best to assume positive intent by our visitors, and provide clear instructions about the use of available services. 

Whatever our role of the moment, we can acknowledge both the value and the limitations of tourism.  

Culture Lag

renovated Sant Antoni Market, Barcelona, Catalonia, Spain

This past spring, I had the good fortune to embark on my first overseas trip since the covid-19 pandemic. I spent a month each in two different European cities, Barcelona and Paris. Their time zone is quite different from where I live in southern California. After my return, it took me a week to adjust my sleep and waking schedules to my home time zone—jet lag. It’s taking me even longer to readapt to the culture of my home city. I’m still suffering from a touch of “culture lag.”  

Getting readjusted to a car-dependent city like San Diego is taking some time. The volume of automotive traffic, both in my neighborhood and on area freeways, continues to amaze me—Barcelona and Paris, at least at their cores where I stayed, had proportionally much less vehicular traffic. Paris has been installing dedicated bicycle lanes at a great rate as part of an aggressive strategy to reduce air pollution and make the city more livable. There’s now even a bicycle rush hour; per a recent (2024) survey, in central Paris more people bicycle than drive. In the run-up to its hosting of the 1992 Olympic Games, Barcelona, the largest city of the Spanish region known as Catalonia, totally revamped its formerly shabby waterfront to create a 2-plus-mile-long stretch of walkable, easily accessible public beach. 

Both Barcelona and Paris have robust, easy to use, inexpensive public transportation systems that serve most of their metropolitan areas. Paris is upgrading its metro (subway) in anticipation of increased ridership during the Olympic Games it will host next month. I wish our city could become less dependent on “car culture,” especially as I continue to age and my driving skills continue to diminish.   

On the other hand, I’m relieved to experience my lower exposure to tobacco smoke here in San Diego. Outside our Barcelona rental apartment, the sidewalk was always full of cigarette butts. At all hours of the day or night, people sitting on some of the local public benches periodically lit up. Staying upwind of the secondhand smoke was an ongoing challenge. Paris has banned indoor smoking in public places, but nearly every restaurant or cafe has alluring sidewalk tables where non-smokers may try to “dodge the smoke.” 

Both European cities have ongoing recycling efforts, with large, labeled bins for different recyclables at every block or apartment building. The neighborhood market near our Barcelona apartment even had a staffed drop-off location for food waste. Recycling volumes were lower because less plastic or other packaging was used to begin with. In Barcelona, people wheeled small fabric-covered carts to carry their groceries from shop to home. In Paris, cloth shopping bags were more common. 

Living spaces were smaller than ours here, with each of our rental apartments measuring less than 500 square feet. Partly because of limited space, partly because of different cultural norms, appliances were more compact and less extensive than ours—“half size” refrigerators, no automatic dishwashers, limited clothes driers. Drying racks and sunny windows served nearly as well. People shopped several times each week, if not daily. Specialty shops could provide cheeses, meats, fruits and vegetables, or baked goods. There were no “big box” stores. Across the street from our Barcelona apartment was a recently renovated 19th century market with over a hundred stalls selling all sorts of food and clothing. American-style grocery stores were generally smallish, had no parking, and coexisted with living spaces. In both cities we could easily walk to groceries, bakeries, restaurants, book shops, and newsstands. Delivery services were more often by bicycle or covered tricycle than by motorized vehicle.  

My “culture lag” after this most recent trip has been less severe than on earlier occasions. During my work life, I’d spent longer periods of work and/or travel in areas more “exotic” than western Europe. Still, San Diego is different from what I’d become used to in Barcelona and Paris. I’m not yet sure how long this episode of “culture lag” will last. 

I’m very glad to have a San Diego home to return to. Perhaps some of the better parts of Catalan and Parisian cultures will outlast culture lag to work their way pemanently into my life here.