TOURISM is a terrible way for a society to make a living. It’s demeaning. It’s the pimping of one’s assets. It’s fuelled by lies, hype and exaggeration (“you will see whales, dolphins, perhaps even the great god Poseidon”).

On the other hand, it provides many people with a living or profit, so yay for that.

Unsurprisingly, therefore, consternation was caused this week when Malcolm Bell, outgoing chief executive of Visit Cornwall, said of visitors: “You have friends, then you have guests, then you have tourists, then you have bloody tourists, then you have f ***ing emmets. You can quote me on that.”

“Emmets”, an ancient term meaning “ants”, is how locals sometimes refer to visitors. Saying “you can quote me on that” indicates a speaker knows he’s being controversial or reckless and, in the ensuing furore, Mr Bell inevitably backtracked, saying “very, very few” visitors qualified as “emmets”.

He further defined them, particularly during Covid, as those who’d only come to Cornwall as a second choice. Fair to say, too, he’s previously criticised as “unforgivable” a banner at Bodmin telling visitors to “F*** off”.

Alas, this sort of reaction is growing. In Barcelona (where tourists outnumber residents 20 to one), Venice, Rome, Amsterdam, Florence, Berlin, Lisbon, protests have taken place. In Venice, they said people consumed their city “as though they were eating a sandwich”. In Florence, they said their city had become a set on which they were mere extras. In Barcelona, hooded men spray-painted “Tourism kills neighbourhoods” on a tourist bus and shouted abuse at passengers.

Not nice. Because the other side of the coin is that folk deserve a wee break and to gawp upon beautiful locales. Ain’t their fault that, en masse, overtourism leads to crowded public spaces; attractions impossible to see – because of all the tourists; jammed narrow roads; damage to fragile environments; and no long-term rentals available for locals as holiday lets are more profitable. In many Scottish communities there’s now literally nothing to rent long-term.

Ah, Scotia. It too is both beneficiary and victim of tourism. As someone living in a tourist-saturated area, I can offer impressions that are, well, impressionistic. As a journalist, I’ve always felt facts overrated, and prefer my prejudices to be based on that I see with my own eyes.

This, at any rate, is true: something happens to the brain when one becomes a tourist. In cities, walking becomes a forgotten art, as they saunter from side to side, stopping suddenly in the middle of crowds. In country areas, they drive at half the speed limit, self-evidently enjoying the frustrated tail of traffic behind them.

Tourists, particularly among those from countries with better weather, look down on everything. They do not know how to appreciate greyness and gloom, and how it forms the character, which is why we suck at welcoming people. “It’s five past two and you want lunch? Are you mad?”

In some ways, you can’t blame the tourists. Imagine coming here and finding it pishing doon and some local nutter tailgating you.

But, on the whole, tourists are a pain and, the truth is, the phenomenon needs controlling. It’s a grovelling way for a society to make a living. In the meantime, thank God summer is over.

Seasonal greet

CHRISTMAS is coming, unfortunately. Possibly, you have marked the date in your diary as a reminder. But it is easy to remember, as it is the birthday of the baby Jesus. Lucky wee sod must have got two sets of presents.

Once a wholesome celebration, associated with Odin and blood sacrifices, it is now open to abuse. And the abuse does not come any worst than the Xmas party. This is generally a work-related affair and consequently is fraught with politicking, extra-marital indecency, gluttony, crawling and insincerity.

It’s fair to say that nobody likes Xmas parties but everybody goes (except the present writer, natch). However, it’s reported that bookings are a fifth-lower than pre-pandemic levels.

Reasons adduced include working from home, the cost of living (not least the increasingly mental price of a pint) and even “changing attitudes to alcohol”, possibly meaning you can get a better swallie in the privacy of your ain hoose without anyone trying to touch your private parts.

Oddly enough, or perhaps not, the one venue that appeared set to buck the trend was yonder Hoose of Commons, where the Independent Parliamentary Standards Authority has for the first time authorised Xmas parties.

In pursuit of these, MPs can claim for refreshments, decorations and cards, but not alcohol, making the events pretty much pointless except on a BYOB basis.

At a time of enforced frugality for many families – and, more importantly, individuals – outrage was bound to ensue, fuelling the growing perception of parliamentarians as welfare dependent.

Sadly, yon Sunak stepped in, saying he would certainly not be holding any such do and urging MPs to caw canny with temptation. Pious backbenchers backed him, describing the new dispensation as “bonkers”, and so it looks like Christmas will be ruined for many members this year. If only others would follow our Prime Minister’s example, so that Christmas was ruined for everybody.

*****

Cheap champers is best bubbly

Happens all the time. Experts blind-tasting champagne found that supermarket brands beat Moet and the usual big names. Tesco topped for champers, and Aldi for sparkling wine. Indeed, the Moet “did not particularly impress”, said experts at consumer champion Which? It’s just the way of it: you rarely get what you pay for.

Feathered fiends

This column deplores killer whales and the “naturalist” dumbos who worship them. Here’s another black and white monster: the magpie. In Stoke-on-Trent, the “psychotic” birds are attacking cats and squirrels. I’ve seen them take fledglings plenty of times. If it weren’t for pandas, I’d say there was something inherently evil about black and white beasts.

Brass turtleneck

Government officials in Tokyo are being urged to wear turtleneck jumpers to reduce energy consumption over winter. President Macaroon in yonder France has issued a similar edict. It’s getting ridiculous. They’ll be instructing us to wear woolly hats next. Is this how civilisation is to end? With us all shivering in shaggy garments?

Lunar loons

Who wants to live on the Moon? I see a small show of hands. Ya loons. There’s nothing there. It’s worse than Fort William. Still, Nasa said folk could be living lunar by 2030. Fortunately, you have to be right good at science to apply. So that lets us out.

Living death

Soon, there could be no escape from the boss – even after they die. American scientists are working on “digital immortality” for CEOs, using Artificial Intelligence by which avatars make plausible decisions in the manner of the deceased. It could mean the likes of Donald Trump living for ever. The future is starting to look bigly bad.