16 April 2006 Blog Home : April 2006 : Permalink
From their vantage points in London or Brussels or Boston, they deplore what they say has happened to Provence. They know, from investigations carried out during their brief annual vacations, that Provence has changed. The markets are more crowded, the prices have gone up, the restaurants are full, the sunniest café tables are taken, bakers run out of bread, waiters run out of patience, there is nowhere to park and nobody—but nobody—can be found to fix a leaking pool.
In it Peter Mayle defends the average tourist:After many years of on-the-spot observation, I would like to put in a good word for this much-maligned species. Among them, Alpes-de-Haute-Provence, Vaucluse and Bouches-du-Rhone account for between 70 million and 80 million "tourist nights" per year. The overwhelming majority of these visitors are amiable and considerate people who want nothing more than quiet enjoyment. They have come to Provence for sunshine and spectacular scenery, for the food and the wine, for a pleasant break from real life. Of course there are crowds, particularly in July and August, but these tend to be confined to the towns and postcard villages. For those who want solitude, beautiful and empty countryside is only a short drive away.
Personally, I have never found the tourist season intolerable; indeed, there is reason to be grateful for some of its effects. If it weren't for the money that tourism brings, many of the châteaux and gardens open to the public would become derelict; monuments would be left to crumble; many restaurants could never survive on local custom alone; it wouldn't be worth putting on concerts or village fetes. Rural life would be the poorer.
I can only agree. We went on a drive today via Paymeinade to Fayence and Seillans then up to Mons and the Route Napoleon and back through Grasse. Even the latter, a city that I consider to be the smelly armpit of the Riviera, has spent money to try and make things look nice, and the smaller villages looked very pleasing in their Easter finery. There is no doubt in my mind that, along with the various events put on for the amusement of the visitors, we residents benefit in all sorts of minor ways to the tourist influx. Shops are open to sell essentials even on Easter, roads are (generally) well maintained, restaurants thrive, the countryside is maintained with well marked paths and so on. It is true that sometimes it is a bit irritating to hear others making loud comments in English, but on the other hand you also get numerous foreign artistic sorts to illustrate the place (hey any Japanese readers - my wife is having a photo exhibition in Kobe real soon) and in fact we met one in Mons. A certain Gunnar Zatestam, who charmed my wife and numerous local children, as he painted.