Friction between visitors and locals has been around for centuries with pilgrims being the first tourists

The Trevi Fountain collects €1.5 million in coins annually for charity and is a tourist magnet. Photo / 123RF

In Rome, all roads seem to lead to the Trevi fountain.

On my last visit, every other time I asked Google Maps to figure out a route to sites in the historic centre of the city, the app coursed me through the tourist magnet commissioned by Pope Clement XII in the 18th century.

If I’d never seen the Trevi before, I’d be grateful. But three round trips on one day past the baroque aquatic fantasy made me rococo loco.

The standing room in front of the fountain was an intake pond for tourists streaming in from all over.

I was drowning in the tussle and drenched in summery sweat - not all my own. Ick and eek. And this was just the start of Rome’s high season.

Foreign tourists like to complain there are too many of themselves.

The locals do too - and have horror stories to tell.

A grainy CCTV video apparently shows a visitor to the crowded Uffizi Gallery in Florence awkwardly posing in front of an 18th portrait of a Medici heir only to buckle a bit and tear a hole in the painting with either his hand or elbow.

Last northern summer, the mayor of Rome declared that “there can certainly be no space for hooligans and idiots” after a visitor allegedly used a key to carve his name into a wall of the Colosseum.

The previous year, a visitor from Bristol had done the same and pleaded ignorance of the monument’s antiquity.

A month ago, there were news accounts of an American tourist who impaled himself on a metal fence while trying to take a selfie at the 1953-year-old ruin. The veracity of those reports, however, has been questioned.

For many Italians, however, it was the perfect fable of comeuppance: Foolish tourist gets punished by his own foolishness.

To be fair, tourists weren’t the impetus for Italy’s 2024 punitive law against defacing art, monuments and scenic sites - with fines as high as $70,000.

The targets of that legislation were so-called eco-vandals who’d gone after the Trevi and Milan’s La Scala opera house in the name of saving the planet. For that matter, it was a tourist who alerted the police to the person who keyed in his name on the Colosseum.

Still, real and imagined offences committed by tourists have fuelled local outrage from Portugal to Japan that verge on xenophobia.

In Tokyo, one celebrity called tourists and migrants “invasive species” and speculated that visitors could overstay and eventually dilute Japan’s unique culture.

A lot of the blame for the current flood of revenge travel can be fairly assigned to the Covid lockdowns, the end of which released pent-up demand.

Many countries at first welcomed the profusion of profit until visitor numbers and bad behaviour swirled out of control. But the roots of visitors-versus-locals go back much farther in history.

The nature of tourism - even before the English word was coined in the late 18th century - was always bedevilling.

When Dante sketched out his eighth circle of hell, he had horned demons whipping queues of sinners to keep them in line, comparing them to the crowds of pilgrims in Rome who were policed into one-way lanes as they crossed back and forth on the bridge of Castel Sant’Angelo (which led to St Peter’s Basilica).

Even back in the 14th century, the tourist hordes were problematic, despite being encouraged by the popes themselves, in part to juice local businesses.

Saint Peter's Basilica in the Vatican City. Pilgrims were the first tourists. Photo / Getty Images

Pilgrims were the first tourists - and they travelled not only to gawk at the holy sites but to buy blessings and souvenirs and, often, to fraternise with the locals (yes, they did have sexual relations).

The ex-mistress of Pope Alexander VI made a healthy living by running inns in Rome, one of which incorporated the pontiff’s family crest into its own coat of arms and still stands near the Campo de’ Fiori.

British aristocrats set off on their own elitist Grand Tours in the 18th century, eating, drinking and fornicating their way through the great cities of Europe.

It wasn’t until the middle of the 19th century that Thomas Cook scaled up and democratised travel with his familyfriendly, respectably middle-class excursions.

Cook’s tours pioneered what many today expect from tourism: cocooned experiences where people can remain comfortably and extraterritorially themselves in the middle of a foreign country, perhaps the root of some of today’s privileged behaviour among travellers.

The tours were also the genesis of an industry that now accounts for about 10% of global gross domestic product, including close to 8% of Japan’s and more than 10% of Italy’s.

So, our so-called crisis has age-old roots.

The alleged miscreants are an amalgam of clueless pilgrim, bougie sightseer and loutish scoundrel.

And the situation is also exacerbated by the super-sizing of expectations by airlines, hotel chains, the luxury business, the restaurant trade and a host of industries whose aim is to separate this mass movement of people from their disposable income.

You can blame go-for-growth commerce. It’s not ideal, of course. But everyone has derived some benefit along the route.

The point is to prevent local irritation over bad behaviour from going madly off track.

Misdeeds - even if committed by a fraction of a fraction - can inspire holier-than-thou ethnocentrism and exclusionary rules. It’s important to remember that domestic tourists can behave like yokels too.

So calm down.

Large countries like France, Italy, Japan and others will find it difficult to restrict tourism without making themselves less attractive - including to their own citizens.

The obvious case in point is the United States, where anecdote after anecdote of travellers being accosted or detained at the border has led to a decline in tourism.

New York City has revised its expectations for international visitors downward by 17%.

Spending by foreign tourists may come down as much as US$12.5 billion in the US in 2025, according to the World Travel and Tourism Council.

Before this round of strictures, travel and tourism made up close to 10% of the US$30.5 trillion GDP.

New York City has revised its expectations for international visitors downward by 17%. Photo / 123rf

Perhaps there is a kind of solution to be found in human guides, accredited to personalise tours and save the more hapless visitors from themselves.

It’s not new, of course.

An essay by the English polymath Francis Bacon in 1625 advised travellers to take along “one that hath the language and hath been in the country before; whereby he may be able to tell them what things are worthy to be seen”.

As for disputes and quarrels, he said, “they are with care and discretion to be avoided”. So behave.

Building a system of capable guides may just end up with more bureaucracy. We tourists should therefore be more conscious of why we are travelling.

It’s important to get out of one’s comfort zone, to experience a different existence.

As Bacon wrote, let the traveller “sequester himself from the company of his countrymen and diet in such places where there is good company of the nation where he travelleth”.

My corollary: Skip the generic bucket list and come up with an original one. Do the research.

Don’t go flowing downstream with the perspiring masses of humanity that know only to stare at the Trevi Fountain.

The bigger cities - as crowded as they are - almost always have quiet alternatives that allow you to absorb their ethos without suffocating in the equivalent of mosh pits.

In Rome, opt for the elegance of the Via Giulia over the coarseness of the Corso.

Being far from the maddening crowds could make all the difference.