Ten years ago, in an opinion article for the Los Angeles Times, Rick Steves advised readers to swallow their fears of terrorism and disease, “just get on the plane” and go see the world. And who am I to disagree with a beloved travel writer and fellow Norwegian American? But after returning from a three-week trip seeing family and sites in Norway and Italy, my advice is a little different: Maybe don’t get on that plane, especially if you, like me, are concerned that tourists are ruining the world. My advice has nothing to do with conflict or pestilence.
Or perhaps it does, because from what I saw, the hordes of humans who burn tons of jet fuel flying to faraway places so they can trample on sites known for their beauty and history might qualify as pests. The consequences of overtourism are well known, especially in the hapless places that are its targets: Cities built in a long-ago era or natural wonders become victims of their own charm, drawing far more people than they can handle. Pristine wildlife areas degrade, the markets and butcher shops that sustained locals give way to souvenir stores, and residents get crowded out as their homes are converted to short-term rentals.
Increasingly, there is no offseason : Since pandemic restrictions were lifted, October crowds in European hotspots are what July was like 10 or 20 years ago, and July today is ...
apocalyptic. Thankfully, overtourism can essentially fix itself. Being part of the problem, as I just was during a trip.
