The Cruise Tourism Myth (7 November)

By way of a coincidence, a couple of mentions of cruise tourism over the past few days had worked themselves into my consciousness. I referred to one of them yesterday; the other had simply lodged in my memory banks.

The reference I made was to Leo Hickman who has lumped cruise ships in with all-inclusive hotels in branding them one of the worst forms of tourism in that they generate little by way of benefit to local economies. The one I hadn’t referred to, but now do, was to Puerto Alcúdia and a question asked by the restaurant association as to why its new commercial port was not receiving cruise ships.

In Alcúdia there was talk of it becoming a port of call. It was one reason why so much was invested in developing the new terminal and in deepening the waters. To date, it has not become a port of call and it may never become so. The restaurant association would wish otherwise, as it would hope to reap the benefits from stopover passengers.

The benefits. Ah yes, the benefits of cruise tourism to local economies. These are the benefits that Palma (though not exclusively Palma) derives from cruise tourism and which the city anticipates more of as the volume of cruise traffic increases.

But, as we are reminded not infrequently, passengers disembark, wallets bulging, ready to spend wildly, only to find shops closed. At least, this is one of the sticks which are used to beat Palma shopowners into opening submission and which is used to criticise an inert local tourism-related industry that spurns the opportunities from cruise tourists.

Alcúdia’s restaurants presumably believe that they, along with other local businesses, would enjoy untold riches from passengers taking a bit of shore leave. Would they, though?

One of the most important pieces of research into the economic impact of cruise tourism was undertaken by the Policy Research Corporation on behalf of the European Commission. Based on data from October 2008 to September 2009, it looked at, among other things, expenditure by passengers. Of the top 15 ports in Europe, Palma was ranked sixth with around 53 million euros, a figure that rose to 70 million when crew and ship expenditures were added.

The report calculated specific expenditures dependent upon whether passengers disembarked during a stopover (and not all do) and whether they were joining or leaving the ship. The average spend was, respectively, 60 and 95 euros per passenger (the figure being the same whether joining or leaving).

In themselves, the figures seem healthy enough, but you need to dig down into them to understand what they represent. Mostly all the spend by a passenger joining or leaving a ship is on hotel accommodation; the spend of the passenger who disembarks for the day goes primarily towards an excursion of some sort.

The cruise ship functions in its own way. Because stopovers are short, it organises well in advance, as in booking excursions with a select few attractions/activities for which the cruise ship typically extracts a significant commission; and it is said that this can be as high as 50%, which immediately slashes that expenditure which gets into the local economy.

The ship has its arrangements with hotels, with a handful of chosen excursions and perhaps with certain shops or others, and a commission will operate in almost every instance. The benefit, in other words, tends to be spread very thinly. And where the passenger has some “free” time, what can he actually contribute over and above what has pretty much been pre-determined? P&O, for example, lists Pollensa and Formentor as one of its nine shore excursions. In Pollensa there are 30 minutes “to do as you choose … it is the perfect place to have a morning coffee”.

And so that’s about it. A coffee. Very little, and the restaurants of Alcúdia might bear this in mind, is actually spent on food. It’s the same issue as with all-inclusives, as the passenger has generally already paid for his food on the ship. At most he might buy a small snack and the odd drink while on shore, and that’s it.

There is plenty more that could be said about cruise ships and cruise tourism; about the environmental damage caused by ships, and which is greatly understated, or about the fact that little or no direct employment is generated. A benefit does come from cruises, but it is not as great as might be thought, a point made by Professor Paul Wilkinson of Canada’s York University, and a leading researcher into cruise tourism, who has said that “cruise visitors have little potential economic impact”.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

A Free Bag Of Crisps: Spanish pensionistas

It’s the moment that bars dread. They see them coming. Should they put the shutters down swiftly? Should they flee? Take to the hills? They come ever closer. A huge gaggle of them. An invading army commandeering a bar. A court like that of the Catholic Kings which would turn up wherever it would on its itinerant and peripatetic caravanning around Spain and take over a hostelry or several. British bars generally are spared, because they are British. It is the Spanish, the Mallorcan bar which bears the brunt. Who or what is this unstoppable force? It is that of the Spanish pensioner. The pensionista excursionistas.

Maybe bars should join together and arrange for lookouts at all access points into a town or resort. These lookouts could warn of a sighting of a coach that isn’t loaded to the gunwales with nice, friendly, grateful, money-loaded tourists from foreign lands. Beacons should be lit. Rockets fired. The pensionista charabanc has hit town.

The noise alone is bad enough. An elderly Maria, having secured a corner table, shouts across the room to another elderly Maria, and so it reverberates, back and forth, the pensionista vocal ping-pong. If it’s Spanish, it is not quite so decibel-shattering. If it’s Mallorquín, it breaks the sound barrier. A Concord boom of wailing. Cats on hot tin seats, screeching.

A bar in Alcúdia town was once deceptively Spanish. It was run by two British chaps. The pensionistas used to be blissfully unaware. They would enter, take over every available seat, place orders for a cortado or a caña and then … . Then they would issue their demands. Demands which were greeted, not by the resigned acceptance of a Spanish bar owner buckling, as though some protection-racket extortion were being performed, but by a curt four-letter word accompanied by a three-letter one (or their Spanish equivalents).

The demands are for free plates of crisps or olives or nibbles of other varieties. While a bar might commonly dish these out in any event, it is not the norm for them to be demanded, and demanded by entire busloads. But it is, and it is expected. The other norm is for the cortado to act as a lubricant to the packed lunch or boccadillo that pops out of many a handbag. Yet a further norm is the time. These are never swift cortados, these are never in-and-out jobs. The bar owner looks on forlornly, calculating the revenue from the cortados and balancing it against the loss from platos combinados that sit in the kitchen, waiting for their microwave. And waiting.

The bar is not the only potential target. Also in Alcúdia town, a friend explained how once there was a ring on the bell of her house. A pensionista was on the doorstep and asked if she might use the toilet. Being of a naturally altruistic disposition and being confronted by some Spanish antiquity in need of relief, she took pity. Pity which quickly turned to rejection when, as with male hitchhikers who hide behind a bush while their female companions flag down an unwary driver, the toilet-seeker called out to her compatriots. Household lavatories are ill-prepared for flushing on fifty occasions over a short period of time. Always assuming the period of time would have been short. And there was no guarantee of that.

Moving on from the pensionistas and, for once, a second, unrelated subject. Mallorca Rocks.

The confusion that surrounds the concerts at the hotel this season grows, the regional tourism ministry effectively turning down a request for a licence on the grounds that it doesn’t have the authority to grant one. Where are we at with all of this, if, as reports seem to suggest, the hotel cannot make the concerts open to the public (which presumably means an entrance-paying non-guest)?

The opposition to the concerts is, notwithstanding issues in respect of licences, unfortunate, to say the least.

Ask yourselves this. How can these concerts that would bring music acts of international renown to Magalluf and the island, that would positively enhance the reputation of resort and island, that would be a smack of originality among what is all too often a poverty of innovation, that would, moreover, finish before midnight on their once-weekly occurrence be anything other than a benefit, and one not just to Mallorca Rocks? I’ll say no more.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Market Forces: Inca and other markets

An item of news that probably slipped under your radar a few weeks ago was the seemingly non-earthshattering report that leading tour operators, e.g. TUI, were planning to put Inca market back on their excursions’ itineraries.

The market, for all that it boasts being one of the island’s most important, if not the most important, and for all that its best-known event is November’s “Dijous Bo”, has not been as good as the “bo” in “Dijous” might have us believe. Or indeed, have the tour operators believe.

Excursions to the market were dropped last year; some operators had done so before this. The reason was that the market, though huge, had lost much of its attraction. There was in fact too much of it, and much of this too much wasn’t much good.

Inca town hall, recognising full well that coach loads of tourists not turning up every week means less money in everyone’s pot, set about remedying the situation, and agreement with the tour operators was forged in early April. More local craft stuff, a bit of the old ball de bot traditional dancing and, perhaps most importantly, getting rid of some of the stallholders. A total of 49 have been told they will not be pitching up at their pitches any longer, and some of them have come onto others’ radars – those of the tax man and social security.

Seeking to maintain the standards of the market was fair enough. Complaints about its overall quality and ambience increased last year. The town hall was forced to act. But it had taken the tour operators to really shake up the market’s supervisors.

This goes to prove what should be a principle accepted by many involved in the island’s tourism business: that the tour operators can make or break an attraction, a hotel, or even a market.

Those in the front line of encounters with the tour operators do of course know this well enough. Recently, I happened to be at some apartments when the new owner was showing Thomas Cook’s representative around. Once Mr T.C. had gone, the owner, beaming and rubbing his fingers, said that they would be signing a contract for a third of the apartments.

Back at Inca market, the tour operators had a legitimate point about its standards. But the fact that they acted and thus threatened the enduring success of the market demonstrated that even Mallorca’s traditions can be influenced by companies from Germany or wherever. You do begin to wonder if there isn’t more of this influence around. The fiestas, for example.

Inca market is not, though, an isolated case. Friends of mine who had not been to Sineu’s market for many years went a couple of weeks ago. This market is one which also enjoys the reputation of “traditional” and of being one of the markets that should be on every good market-goer’s schedule. They were disappointed. It wasn’t as it once was. It could be just like any other market.

The importance of the markets, not just for tourism but also as aspects of the fabric of local communities, has been highlighted by the temporary relocation of the market in Puerto Pollensa. Though not a traditional market in the same way as Inca or Sineu or even Pollensa town, the Wednesday market in the church square is popular.

While the square was being dug up, the market was shifted to a car park. For reasons known only to themselves, the town hall suggested that this move might become permanent. A survey of stallholders was meant to have taken place, but they probably gave up after the first few replies.

Besides the fact that the new site meant an obvious loss of car-parking spaces in a town not blessed with easy parking, the notion of it becoming the permanent site was absurd. Puerto Pollensa’s market may not be traditional, but it is also not a car-boot sale.

The markets have become more ragtag affairs, and I think we all know why. It is important that they don’t end up becoming like car-boot sales or flea markets for the lookies clan to ply their trade. The tour operators’ influence may be vast, but where the markets are concerned, and for Inca market in particular, the influence is not unwelcome.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.