On the island of Menorca, a group of people went a step further and declared that they didn't want any tourists at all. Their aspiration seems to be to return the island to a more serene sort of environment. A place where locals can sit around all morning strumming guitars whilst sipping fresh coffee and picking churros from their teeth. After that, they’ll probably just head off back to their hammocks and sleep away the long, sunny afternoons. A weird aspiration, to create some kind of solitary existence filled with naught but blissful fecklessness?

Meanwhile, all the industrious local hoteliers, Airbnb hosts, bar and club owners are having kittens. These business owners are wondering what sort of impact attitudes like this might have on their various enterprises. At the end of the day, all businesses have to pay their way. They're extremely worried that the future of the island will be shaped by an idle bunch of naysayers.

Over-tourism

I'm no stranger to the idea of over-tourism. Living in North Wales, I've grown to understand how concerned some locals get about it. Many people feel that their lives are being negatively impacted by large numbers of tourists pouring into the region for months on end. Sheer numbers do overwhelm infrastructure and narrow lanes do get clogged up with caravans and huge motor-bungalows. Even supermarkets often struggle to keep up with the extra demand. There are even reports of litter problems emerging because picnicking tourists are known to leave behind mounds of rubbish at the very beauty spots they've travelled hundreds of miles to enjoy.

But, tourists also leave behind even bigger mounds of their hard-earned cash. A commodity on which local economies largely depend. People with burgeoning tills and “no vacancies” signs pinned up on their accommodation premises are seldom the ones doing the complaining.

Some of us still remember the tumbleweed scenes during the Covid lockdowns. Busy streets suddenly became totally abandoned. Even our beaches fell silent, utterly devoid of the sound of speedboats, jet skis and giggling kids. There were no barking dogs splashing in the surf because all the laughter, merriment and mirth simply vanished.

Happy memories

To me, the sound of a busy beach is one of the most beautiful and evocative sounds in the world. It's a happy childhood memory that fills my soul with all the joys that rare hot summer days bring to our glorious Welsh coastline. There really is nothing else quite like it.

Recently, Spanish protesters and naysayers were delivered a shocking reminder of the old adage “be careful what you wish for” as a massive thunderstorm ravaged through parts of the Valencia region. Even the Balearic Islands weren't spared as torrential downpours turned entire town centres into lakes filled with putrid water. Pristine beaches became apocalyptic scenes of pure devastation with huge stretches of golden sand being covered by thousands of fragments of mangled yachts and shattered dreams.

Meanwhile hunkered away in high-rise apartment blocks, dressed in Premier League football tops and nylon shorts, hid the much-maligned British tourists. Already taken aback by the level of negativity they’d experienced at the hands of protesting yokals, they were suddenly terrified by the ravages of the local weather as well. Many vowed that they’ll never again return.

So where might all these displaced tourists end up? Portugal perhaps? All of us who are familiar with Portugal already know that there’s much to see and do in this blessed corner of the Iberian peninsula. But could the potential extra headcount prove to be beneficial or might places such as the Algarve suffer should it inherit Spain’s sulked and rejected tourists?

Of course, we all know that Portugal is a marvellous destination but for Spanish holiday stalwarts, the local diet might take a bit of getting used to. Unsurprisingly, Portuguese food is done very well whilst other types of epicurean delights may not always benefit from quite the same level of expert care and attention as the purely local fayre enjoys. Even tapas here in Portugal is quite far removed from the genuine Spanish tapas that's routinely served in nearby Ayamonte. It's chalk and cheese.

Happy place

As I write, I’m literally back from spending a few days on the Algarve. Vilamoura and Quarteira are amidst my happy places. I just love being around this part of the Algarve; from Loulé, Alportel, Olhão to the magical and naturally golden vistas of Ria Formosa. I just keep on returning to all these lovely places.

I've been going over for years, to the point that I can probably suggest which beach bars shake the best piña coladas. Perhaps I can even advise which restaurants might be best avoided too. Of course, I’ve only just scratched the culinary surface of the Algarve, a place that seems to have a restaurant around every corner. I've probably only carved for myself a well trodden pathway that simply keeps me well drunk and agreeably fed up.

The truth is, the Algarve is going from strength to strength and, in general, it attracts a broadly different genre of clientele than the Costas. Maybe this is how come the Portuguese aren't inclined to shoo-away their customers?

Going on holiday abroad is a privilege for most. People look at what's good value for money and, quite often, a week on the Costas or the Riviera trumps spending a week holed up in an over-priced cottage in Wales. Whilst your Welsh cottage might have a huge gallery window and an indoor swimming pool, all you’re ever going to see is fog and bored and soggy looking sheep for your £4,500 per week.

Despite all of the annoyances that go hand in hand with a foreign holiday such as occasionally hostile yocals, some once in a century flooding or the specter of having your genitals examined for drugs or explosives at the airport it's still somehow well worth it.

Staycation

Being on the continent is so vastly different to any staycation. It's why Brexit happened. Britain is just nothing whatsoever like anywhere or anything in Europe. It just isn't. Let's face it.

On the continent we get to drink fabulous wines. Wines that we’ve never even heard of before, let alone drank. Plus, we get to drink it outside in the warm sunshine every single day. Wine drinking probably explains the sudden and extreme craving we have to eat cheese when we’re out on our Euro-jollies?

Even the light is different on the continent; it makes all the cascading floral displays look alive, glowing and radiant. Beautiful ladies dress in gloriously colourful and very feminine dresses which make them look fabulously classy - not a grey pair of jogging pants or a miserable hoodie in sight.

At night, the sound of crickets fills my heart with joy. Gin clear starlit evenings are worth a few mozzie bites or even the transient wrath of a handful of grumpy locals.

Britain does many things very well but when it comes to holidays, the weather simply lets us down. Sadly, Burnham-on-Sea is no match for Cascais.

Author

Douglas Hughes is a UK-based writer producing general interest articles ranging from travel pieces to classic motoring. 

Douglas Hughes