A recent trip to Vienna and Prague had me pondering overtourism, especially in relation to the impact tour groups have on cities. I don’t like big tour groups. I’ve been part of them myself in the distant past, and each time felt as though I had to hand over my individuality at the start of the tour, becoming a segment of an unthinking collective directed and controlled by a human sheepdog. While being herded through streets from attraction to attraction, I’d enviously eye independent travellers able to exert their free will who could grab a seat at whatever quirky bar or café caught their eye, pop into shops with alluring window displays, and veer off from the masses to wander up curious alleys leading to who knows what. In a tour group, experiences are pre-ordained. Spontaneity is not a word that features in a tour guide’s dictionary. Everyone gets more or less the same experience.
Additionally, perspectives of destinations are one-dimensional. So, when reading reports of overtourism in Venice, tour group veterans might nod their heads, thinking ‘Yup, walking through the hordes on Venice’s streets to get to Piazza San Marco was a mare.’ And they are right because, invariably, big tour groups follow the same well-trodden paths, not only adding to congestion, but often being the main cause of it. Witness the difference in the likes of Dubrovnik Old Town before the big tour groups arrive and what it’s like after they descend in their thousands. It’s manic.
In the most popular cities, not being part of a large group can feel like a swimmer battling a particularly strong current, thrashing against a tide of people all heading in the same direction, each tribe following its assigned travel guru. I get that it’s a convenient way for many people to experience a city. But it is suffocating. And it reveals only a tiny slice of any place. A skewed picture.
I’ve yet to find a city that’s been branded with the overtourism tag which doesn’t have multitudinous streets and neighbourhoods which are virtually devoid of tourists. I’m not talking shabby backs streets with no appealing qualities, I’m talking about picturesque and charming areas where, sometimes, there are jewels to be unearthed. These might not be of the magnitude of the ‘main attraction’ but in a way that makes them feel more valuable.
In Dubrovnik, once away from the Stradun it’s easy to forget there are thousands of other people sharing the old town. Barely a hundred metres from Praça do Comércio in Lisbon is another smaller praça with bags of interest but no crowds. Just off the main streets tread by Prague’s hedonistic visitors are shady porticoes with restaurants, bars, and coffee shops where there’s no worry about getting a seat. Cross the river in Florence and the vibe is one of charm, calm, and creativity in Oltrarno. Where Stephansplatz in Vienna bustles, Judenplatz with its evocative memorial is empty, save for the few people who make their way there, them and the armed guards who patrol outside the Jewish Museum, but not outside other museums. It is a sobering sign that times haven’t changed as much as we might have hoped or believed. Then there’s Venice, a city we avoided for years because of reports of it being ruined by overtourism. And yet it turned out to be the most surprising of all because, even in midsummer, it had just so many special and romantic areas where there were few tourists.
There’s no magic formula to finding a tranquil oasis in a mass tourism maelstrom. It simply involves walking away from the main drags, those routes great swathes of visitors follow religiously.