TOURIST TRAP

Barcelona is now a mag­net for mil­lions of tourists. With its stun­ning ar­chi­tec­ture, lovely beaches and a gas­tron­omy that makes you weep with joy, it’s no won­der my adopted home has be­come a must-see des­ti­na­tion. But is that what we want?

Let’s start with an ob­vi­ous perk of tourist ac­tiv­ity: money. Barcelona’s econ­omy thrives on tourism, which pumps mil­lions into local busi­nesses. Not mine though. Ho­tels are fully booked, restau­rants can barely keep up and gift shops sell­ing Gaudí-themed mugs are mak­ing a killing. From Les Ram­bles to the Gothic Quar­ter, the cash reg­is­ters are singing songs of joy (though more to the tune of An­dalu­sian fla­menco than Cata­lan sar­danes).

For lo­cals who rent out rooms on Airbnb, the boom­ing de­mand is a gold mine. Not for me though. Some have dis­cov­ered that they can charge more for their spare bed­room dur­ing peak sea­son than for an en­tire apart­ment in other parts of Spain. It’s a win-win – un­less you’re a local renter, like me, but we’ll get to that.

An­other un­de­ni­able pro of hav­ing a gazil­lion tourists in your city is the cul­tural ex­change. In Barcelona, you can meet peo­ple from every cor­ner of the world, which means ex­po­sure to di­verse lan­guages, foods and cus­toms. You might be sip­ping ver­mouth in a tapas bar next to a Brazil­ian cou­ple, while an Aus­tralian back­packer strikes up a con­ver­sa­tion about fla­menco. Again.

And while the econ­omy may be boom­ing (for some), get­ting from point A to point B in cen­tral Barcelona is now akin to play­ing human bumper cars. Want to take a peace­ful stroll down Les Ram­bles? That will never again be pos­si­ble. It’s now a con­tact sport, where you have to dodge selfie sticks, over­sized suit­cases and tourists walk­ing at a snail’s pace while gaz­ing at maps or Google-trans­lat­ing menus.

Ah, Gaudí, Barcelona’s beloved ar­chi­tec­tural ge­nius. His mas­ter­pieces, from the Sagrada Família to Park Güell, are the main rea­sons so many peo­ple flock here. They’re no longer avail­able to me, though. For lo­cals, vis­it­ing these land­marks has be­come some­thing of an Olympic event. For­get get­ting a peace­ful glimpse of La Sagrada Família on a Sat­ur­day; it’s like wad­ing through a sea of back­packs and floppy hats, with zero chance of tak­ing in the (grad­ual) on­go­ing ar­chi­tec­tural changes.

But let’s try and be pos­i­tive: Barcelona has an in­fec­tious en­ergy thanks to the con­stant in­flux of trav­ellers. The nightlife is buzzing, and even in the off-sea­son, there’s al­ways some­thing hap­pen­ing. In the sum­mer, the city be­comes one mas­sive beach party, with fes­ti­vals like Pri­mav­era Sound draw­ing music lovers from around the globe. If you thrive on ex­cite­ment, which I haven’t done for a long time now, then Barcelona’s tourist sea­son feels like a never-end­ing cel­e­bra­tion.

Un­for­tu­nately, the down­side to being a tourist hub is that many of us feel like we’re being squeezed out of our own neigh­bour­hood, thanks to sky­rock­et­ing rents and the con­ver­sion of flats into hol­i­day rentals. The charm of Barcelona’s old town areas, like El Born and Barceloneta, is fad­ing under the weight of high-end sou­venir shops and restau­rants cater­ing ex­clu­sively to tourists. And even in my neck of the woods, the very Cata­lan res­i­den­tial Sant Ger­vasi, rude young Airbnb tourists can make life a mis­ery.

As a re­sult of all the above, there’s been a rise in anti-tourist sen­ti­ment, with graf­fiti read­ing “Tourists go home” and water pis­tols being squirted at be­mused for­eign din­ers.

So, is Barcelona bet­ter or worse be­cause of the tourists? The truth is, it’s a bit of both. The city is alive with a vi­brant, mul­ti­cul­tural spirit, and the eco­nomic ben­e­fits are un­de­ni­able. But for lo­cals, the sheer vol­ume of vis­i­tors can make every­day life a chal­lenge. The trick, as al­ways, is to find a bal­ance… it won’t be me doing that though.

Opin­ion