Friday, August 16, 2024

The Tourist in Me

July

Like a pasha in the Ottoman Empire, on the sofa, pillows on my back, a soft breeze from a cooler fan, and a “hubby servant” bringing me ice popsicles to soothe my sore mouth, I watched the world gearing up for the summer break. Friends and family texted me when they go, where they go, and when they’re going to be back. The first photos appeared on social media: food on a plate, wildlife, sunsets, castles, beaches, theme parks, museums and selfies taken at the swimming pool. 


Having had two chemo treatments scheduled for July (one in the first week and one in the fourth week), it all felt somewhat unfair. Within 3 or 4 months, this part of the world would be covered in snow again. I would have loved to rejuvenate my body and mind in one of Finland’s lakes or pick cloudberries in the peatlands.

 

But that is as far as my travel ambitions go. Say tourists and I see crowded airports, packed cruise ships or people queuing up for yet another “attraction”. Not exactly the group I want to belong to. Read Grand Hotel Europe (2018) from Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer about the devastating decline of cities caused by tourism and you’ll get my sentiment. 


Also, Finland is beautiful in summer. Why would we drive for hours, pay a lot of money to wait in queues, or sleep in hotels? I once saw a documentary about filthy hotel rooms. “Check the mattresses for bed bugs and check the cover for stains” the makers recommended. They used a UV light detector to reveal what kinds of filth shower curtains, bedlinen and toilets could hide from the naked eye. The images made me cringe.

 
The Netherlands

It wasn’t always like that. Being born and raised in a country with a huge tourism industry, I naively thought it was normal to go on holiday every year. Already in the seventies, my parents took the tent and off we went to destinations as far as Locarno, Luxemburg and Bordeaux. Every other year abroad, every other in the Netherlands, was the deal in our family. However, when I ask my sister about her favourite holiday, she says “windsurfing”. These surfing adventures on the Belter and Beulakker lakes have also become the pinnacle of my childhood holiday memories – not the basking on a French beach, hiking in the Swiss Alps or eating pasta at an Italian market.

My perspective on vacations changed since we moved abroad. Since 1992, we have been constantly exposed to different cultures, landscapes and people. Furthermore, living in other countries has made me understand that the idea that you need to go on holiday every year is psychologically, culturally and economically determined.

For instance, still today, I know of no other country that so frantically advertises (in prime time) for all-inclusive holidays as the Netherlands. According to the Central Statistical Office (CBS), Dutch people over 15 went on holiday on average 2,5 times last year. That means 37,6 million holidays per year in total. For those who travel, the number of holidays per year is often even higher, since 20% of Dutch people don’t travel at all for financial, safety or health reasons.

I wish that everyone gets a break from their everyday lives but there is something ironic about people showing off about their “authentic” experiences while staying in all-inclusive hotels with Western luxuries. I decided to survey the world of tourism and learned a few things about the role of social media along the way.


Social Media

I started with Paige McClanahan’s book The New Tourist (2024). McClanahan recognizes the damaging impact of tourism but also sums up the positives: “tourism accounts for about one in ten jobs and generates revenue”. McClanahan divides tourists in two groups. The old tourist consumes, possesses and crosses off a bucket list. The new tourist, on the other hand, tries to comprehend what impact his behaviour has on the holiday destination. In a recent article, McClanahan explains how 86% of travellers are influenced by social media. Obviously, Instagram, Facebook, TikTok create a self-perpetuation loop. For example, a video of Justin Bieber shot in Iceland in 2015 made the number of visitors grow from around 3,000 per year to 300,000 in a few years’ time.

Moreover, McClanahan reminds the reader of the environmental aspect of tourism. According to the workers of Iceland’s environmental agency, it’ll take “fifty to hundred years for the Icelandic landscape to recover”.

In his article “Instagram abroad: performance, consumption and colonial narrative in tourism”, Sean Smith explains how not only holiday photos and texts consistently posted on social media provide a model of ideologies that supports modern tourism but also that many of our social media posts perpetuate colonial stereotypes. The 3 motifs he identifies are: “the tropical exotic” (me checking social media – friend standing alone in front of the Trevi fountain in Rome), “the promontory gaze” (friend standing on a rock overviewing Sallantunturi) and “fantasised assimilation” (me in a photo taken in 2000, together with two Sámi women in Inari).

Smith concludes that social media followers get the idea that tourist destinations are available for possession and consumption and thereby they fail to recognise the needs of locals and the environment.

The article reminded me of an anecdote of a German couple who came to see (read: photograph) the brown bear in Lapland. They found a guide, signed up for a night and paid the fee. They shared beautiful pictures of bears roaming near a river on social media. When the couple later found out that the bears were attracted by food put there earlier by the guides, they felt misled. By that time, the photos were already circulating their way into the world, most likely attracting more bear “hunters” to Northern Finland.

Why are tourists privileged over locals, the environment and the wildlife? This applies as much to the inhabitants of the red-light district (2.5 million visitors annually) in Amsterdam, the archaeological city of Pompei (2.5 million visitors annually), the glaciers in Jasper National Park (2.5 million visitors annually) or the bears in one of Finland's 41 national parks (2.3 million visitors in 2023).

 

Without travelers, there is no tourism!

We can be glamorous about travelling, but in the end, the tourist industry seems shaped by our consumption behavior. Influenced by social media, we purchase goods or services to fulfill a desire, often without questioning whether this is necessary.

I ask friends why they go on holiday. “To take a break, explore new places and see other cultures,” they say. In The Psychology of Travel (2023) Andrew Stevenson talks about “wayfinding” and explains how travelling to a new place “elicits feelings of excitement, expectation, curiosity and even trepidation.”

The downside is that feeling excited in a new place can reinforce the need for more. Amiah Taylor (2024) talks about escapism and the addictive aspects of travelling. I indeed know people who plan their next vacation as soon as they’re back home from a previous one.
 
Lastly, I came across an article titled, The Case Against Travel, (2023) from Agnes Callard.   Callard wonders why we should see travel as an achievement and explains why tourism is notable for its “locomotive character”:



What life would be like if we never travelled again? (And Holiday Greetings from Lewis!) 

 
Having heard that the last 6 chemos have had no effect, it’s unlikely I will travel again. To some this might sound like a nightmare but it doesn’t feel that way. I enjoy the nature in my neighbourhood, appreciate discussions with my international and Finnish friends and feel relaxed at home. I have no interest in following the herd when it comes to tourism. Also, being blessed with a great imagination and a love for reading, I’ve discovered that I can travel as far and as long as I want.

While Oulu was blazing hot, Peter May, the author of The Chess Men (2012), took me to Lewis, a Scottish island in the Outer Hebrides. Starting on a rainy day at the foothills of the mountains of southwest Lewis, the detective showed me ancient stone dwellings, explained to me what peat cutting is and introduced me to the Gaelic speaking population. I had a wonderful trip and no, I had no trouble with delays, accommodation or crowdedness.


 

 


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