Jet-Settled

 Although we hate to be reminded, at some time we probably all studied a scientific experiment conducted in the late 1950s that proposed a model for societal collapse. Population growth in a 'rat utopia' of unlimited resources led to overcrowding and aggression.

That study gives me pause as I read the numerous articles about overcrowded tourist areas worldwide and the negative impact on local residents as well as the sites themselves. Historic and natural destinations - think Venice - are beginning to develop measures to respond to ridiculous overtourism.

When I visit the Cotswold district of Gloucestershire and Oxfordshire, I am in the bosom of a warm and loving family who make the area their home. They love their village and contribute to community life. 

 

I spend my time with jaw agape, awed at the stone cottages, ancient trees, mossy lanes. Aside from a snide remark about 'Chelsea tractors' I don't hear the kind of complaining that I would do, were I faced daily with overfilled parking lots, village centres and rural beauty spots, and degradation of country lanes by oversized vehicles.My family seems to take it all in stride - well perhaps not the commercialization of local pubs- welcoming newcomers of all types.

 

The Cotswolds have always been desireable for tourism and residency. But it seems that the recent pace of development and gentrification of charming places may be eroding not just quality of life for residents, but also for the very folk who have migrated here. 'Come for the character, stay to change it.' It's the same in the small Ontario town I call home.

It's not just me, here's a BBC report on Cotswolds overtourism with a particularly telling photo. 

Here is an  article by socialite and writer Plum Sykes and a piece in The Times that describe the situation with more authority than I. Getting very upmarket. Have to make sure you have the right label of wellies.

 

A pub, a green, a red phone box by the ford, an ancient church with an equally ancient churchyard beneath a century-old yew. Quintessential English village. Don't change a thing.