Tourism has been in the news lately. Despite the fact that most of us are or have been tourists at one point, the worm appears to have turned in our culture. Residents of cities like Barcelona are actually using squirt guns on tourists in their city, angry that tourism has led to overcrowding and a rise in housing costs.
Amid this sweltering summer, squirting tourists may be seen as a good thing. I’d certainly welcome it when the mercury hits 30C or more (that’s 86F for those of you who never went metric).
But the problem of overtourism isn’t necessarily the tourists. There’s no question that Air B&B and VRBO have contributed to this situation, re-purposing what should be housing into wannabe tourist accommodation. That’s where the pressure lies. It’s their fellow locals that are appropriating housing stock to make money this way. Let’s keep in mind that while some locals are crying foul, others are happy to count their Euros.
Cruise ships don’t necessarily increase housing rents given those travellers have a place to stay, but the ports can decide to put limits on them too, including their size, as Venice has already done. With some of these towering cruise ships, you literally couldn’t see St. Mark’s from the water. Cities like Barcelona have huge port facilities for docking cruise ships. If you build it, they will come. But then again, maybe Field of Dreams was not big in Catalan Spain.
Emerald has introduced a fleet of smaller “yachts” to get into ports the larger cruises cannot gain entry into. When a ship docks with a hundred or so passengers on board, it barely makes a ripple on the local community. I saw this first-hand taking two Emerald river cruises. The second cruise up the Rhone River in France had fewer than a hundred people aboard. Sensitive to criticism of what they contribute to the localities they sail into, at one point they announced they would refund us a sum from our bills so we could have lunch in the community we were visiting rather than on the ship. It also meant we didn’t have to come rushing back to the ship for lunch. They also made a point of letting us know what provisions they were acquiring locally, including wine, food and entertainment.
I’ve always marvelled how tourists enjoy travelling, but not in the presence of other tourists. What traveller hasn’t experienced this? I once remember waiting in an ever expanding cafeteria line at the Barcelona airport as an Australian woman made a spectacle of herself, arguing that her ham and cheese sandwich wasn’t made of ham. The cashier patiently explained that ham looks different in Spain, reassuring her this was definitely a ham sandwich. “No it isn’t,” she ranted, impervious to logic. She again insisted she wanted a ham and cheese sandwich, and she wanted it now. It went on. I’m sure her fellow Aussies were cringing, as we all were, as our food got cold waiting in line. In Albafeira Portugal we avoided certain areas when the bars were showing football (soccer) games on their big screens. Literally you couldn’t hear yourself think over the lager louts, even at the next bar over. I marvelled at one point how a newly arrived group of young British men dramatically increased the overall volume on the patio we were seated (with no game on the screen), all of them speaking very loudly to one another, all at once. One had to wonder who was actually listening? Given we saw them at breakfast starting to pound back the beer, perhaps it was no surprise. I’m sure somebody has a story about obnoxious Canadian travellers too. We all have ’em.
Recently there have been a number of stories about European destinations levying fines on travellers for a lack of decorum, such as wearing your bathing suit in the town after a day at the beach, or wearing inappropriate footwear on some of the more dangerous walking paths, such as those along the shores of Cinque Terre in Italy. The Grand Canyon has put up warning signs prohibiting drones and warning of the dangers of getting too close to the edge. The stories of tourists tumbling over the edge making selfies were abundant. The guides spoke about the resources needed to rescue them.
Into this cauldron I decided that I wanted to make a painting about tourism.
When I was young and living in Halifax, whenever money got tight I realized I could go down to Peggy’s Cove and make a few drawings that literally sold before they came out of my pad.
Peggy’s Cove is one of those iconic destinations in Canadian tourism. There is a small village around a working harbour for fishers, and then up the hill there is a lighthouse amid some fairly spectacular granite rocks. While the population peaked at 300 (its smaller than that now) there are multiple places to eat and to purchase souvenirs, including the Sou’Wester, which is a massive operation across from the lighthouse. Marine painter William De Garthe lived and worked in Peggy’s Cove, his studio now a seasonal gallery celebrating his life’s work. Nearby is a 98 foot De Garther sculpture in the granite rock celebrating the fishery.
My association with Peggy’s Cove happened quite by accident. I was there drawing one day, and before it was complete, someone was willing to offer me money for it. And so it went. When times got lean, in the summer I could get on my bicycle, travel the roughly 40 kilometres from Halifax, sketch for a few hours, and come back and pay my bills. I remember by the end of one summer I was likely the fittest I had ever been in my life, cycling 80 km a day and spending so much time outdoors. I had the time of my life.
I remember the proprieter of the Sou’Wester running out of the restaurant when he saw me one day. A group of tourists were clustered around me. He looked at my drawing, paused a moment, then asked “How much?” He bought the piece and commissioned another drawing of his business.
I got a kick out of the tourists there. I genuinely enjoyed their company. Generally, they were respectful and polite and interested in what I was doing. I still remember one person narrating their home video as they walked around shooting their video. “Oh, and what do we have over here? It’s an artist. Let’s see what he’s doing.” Coming down on my bike, I did get offers from some RVers for a ride back to Halifax, who would offer me refreshments en route. It doesn’t get better than that.
I varied the drawings as much as possible. I may draw the lighthouse and rocks for an hour, then head over to the cove and draw the town. Both are iconic views. The Blue Jays used to celebrate their status as Canada’s national team, using a view of the Peggy’s Cove lighthouse as a stand-in for Eastern Canada, but many travellers are equally familiar with the view of the harbour.
At one point I got the idea that I would track where these tourists came from, putting up a world map on-line with dots to indicate where these drawings were travelling back to. I liked the idea that those who acquired the drawings could see themselves as part of a global experience from this tiny community on the east coast. Somebody from the UK was looking at a similar drawing by the same artist as someone in Japan.
While I have made many pencil drawings, I’ve only painted Peggy twice. The first time was in art school. My professor — Medrie McPhee — was surprised by my scene of the village, claiming that somehow I had found a different view that was “fresh.” I had made so many drawings of the village that I didn’t need to be there to do it. I did it entirely from memory.
Recently my spouse told me that there was a call-out for artists to converge on Peggy’s Cove for a weekend this summer. I live too far away for that, but decided maybe it was time to make a second painting after all these years.
While most people preferred my Peggy’s Cove drawings to edit out all the people, this time I wanted to celebrate them too. They were mostly just ordinary people from all over the world out having a great time. I think we all benefit by sharing our culture, and travel is one of the ways of doing that. I amused myself by wondering if any of the people I captured in the painting were actually named Peggy? Perhaps all the Peggys at Peggy’s Cove? (BTW… the village’s name likely comes from the fact that it borders on St. Margaret’s Bay. The short form for Margaret is Peggy.)
Working from a recent photo, I was reminded of the amazing clarity of light there. The exception would be the afternoon fog that often rolls in and used to signal the end of my working day. The last time we were in Nova Scotia we went back there. I still enjoy being next to the sea, to experience the light, the sound of the gulls, the magnifient rocks, and yes, even the other tourists.
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