Editorial. Overtourism: Summer scourge or problem of the rich?

In this society of chronic dissatisfaction, nothing escapes criticism. Vacations were previously spared from recriminations. But that's over. Since the invention of "overtourism," every posh city has taken on a jaded air, looking down its nose at visitors from elsewhere. Too numerous, too noisy, they prevent locals from enjoying the exclusive pleasures of their surroundings. A crisis of snobbery is hitting the south of France, some renowned sites in the West, and the Alps. For renowned destinations, these complaints are above all an opportunity to express their fed-upness with the common people who spend their paid vacation at the Flots Bleus campsite. This ill-mannered commoner, arriving from ordinary lands or formerly industrial regions, has the audacity to visit areas praised by glossy magazines. And there he is, strolling through the shady streets of Gordes, another taking a dip in the marvelous Lake Annecy, while the third wants to show the youngest the magnificence of Mont-Saint-Michel at rush hour. To make matters worse, this contemporary homo touristicus has limited purchasing power...

Make no mistake: this notion of "overflow" hides, in the background, the nostalgia of the chosen vacationer, with his easy tips and distinguished manners. Since then, mass tourism has arrived. Those who complain now have built housing by the thousands. They enticed the onlooker by promising him paradise, while he finds himself in the hell of canned sardines. They lobbied for highways that today they abhor. They obtained airports that, from now on, they disown. They blessed the tour operators, rolled out the red carpet for Airbnb and made eyes at the cruise lines. The only question that matters is: who really killed the goose that laid the golden eggs?