If you're a regular reader of this blog, you'll know that I have a thing for narrow streets. Which is why when I travel I sometimes (okay, oftentimes) bring a laser distance measuring device with me. I like measuring things so that I have dimensions that I can feed back into our own development projects. But perhaps most importantly, it allows me to appear as nerdy as humanly possible while traveling. Walking around with just a camera in hand isn't enough. You need to try harder than that. And so far the narrowest street that I have come across was in Noto, Sicily at just over 1.3m wide.
If you also like to fawn over narrow European streets, you may enjoy this recent video by City Beautiful. In it, Dave Amos compares European cities, like Rome, to US cities, like Salt Lake City and Philadelphia, and then asks: Can the US build European-style street networks? His immediate answer is, "probably not." And this is something that we have talked about before on the blog. Street networks tend to be really sticky. They're hard to change. However, there is another possible solution: create new smaller mid-block streets. And that's the focus of Dave's video:
https://youtu.be/iv9fWEekFUM
But if you think about it, this condition already exists in a number of cities. Here in Toronto, we have somewhere around 300 kilometers of laneways, which tend to range in width from 4 to 6m. These are European-scaled streets and amazingly they're already in place! The only difference is that, today, they mostly serve a back-of-house function. They provide access to garages. However, that is quickly changing with the introduction of laneway suites. And so over a long enough time horizon, our laneways are going to inevitably flip from back-of-house to primarily residential.
Though maybe there's even more we could do with this asset. European cities manage to fit retail, restaurants, patios, and more within 6m. Why not do the same with some of our narrowest streets?

Cities are complicated. And we have spoken before about how it can sometimes feel like they never really reach homeostasis. In extreme cases, it might seem like they're either decaying and losing people, or they're too successful.
I was reminded of this again this morning while reading an article about how Rome's historic city center is being overrun with Airbnbs and tourists, and how it is pushing out the locals. It has, arguably, become too successful as a tourist destination.

Of course, this problem isn't unique to Rome. Venice has the same thing going on, though probably to a greater extent. And Amsterdam is currently working to attract more highbrow tourists and to move their red light district out of the city center.
But the question I have is: What's the right amount of tourism? If 25,000 listings is too many for Rome, what's the right number? And do cities ever really achieve homeostasis, where, you know, things feel just right? Here's an excerpt from the above article that describes what parts of Rome were like before the tourism boom:
Ms. Rapaccini remembers when Monti was a quiet, authentic haven for arty types and locals. She and her late partner, the film director Mario Monicelli, who received six Oscar nominations, moved to Monti in 1988. The area was unfashionable, dirty and full of prostitutes, but beautiful in its gritty way, “like a little village” even though it was in the heart of a big, bustling city, she recalls. The apartments were cheap and the area began to attract film types, journalists and artisans – none of them rich – who mixed easily with local workers and shop owners.
It's a romantic description of what sounds like a pretty gritty area. Unfashionable, dirty, and full of prostitutes is apparently better than full of annoying American tourists. And perhaps it is. But then what was the area like before it was unfashionable, dirty, and full of prostitutes? Was that also better?
I have no idea. But cities are constantly changing and evolving, and they were doing it long before any of us arrived, especially in the case of an ancient city like Rome. Maybe that's what makes it so difficult to hang onto that exact moment in time when everything was just right.
Chart: Globe and Mail
https://twitter.com/donnelly_b/status/1492693964880846850?s=20&t=mUTKDVuP7TG_wRC_ZndiLQ
I tweeted this out last night while watching old reruns of Anthony Bourdain's Parts Unknown series. This was a great show. If I were to give everything up and become a YouTuber, this is the kind of travel and food channel I would want to make, except that I would naturally have to add in some equal parts around architecture, planning, and real estate.
The responses to my tweet were of course mixed. Some people agreed and some people didn't. And a few people provided examples of great cities that aren't particularly known for their openness to new entrants -- places like Tokyo. This kind of response is not at all surprising given how divisive this topic has always been throughout history.
But here's what I was thinking:
1/ There are some obvious current case studies. Consider places like Toronto and Miami, where foreign born residents now make up the majority of the population. These are two fast growing and dynamic cities that wouldn't be anywhere near as interesting without their immigrant populations. Certainly the food wouldn't be as good.
2/ Many of the most beautiful cultures in the world are the result of different cultures coming together. Brazil is one example that comes to mind. Throughout history they have been one of the largest recipients of immigrants in the western hemisphere. Sadly, Brazil was also the last country in the western world to abolish slavery.
3/ Rome and Tokyo were cited (in the comments) as two great cities that frankly aren't all that diverse. According to Wikipedia, less than 10% of Rome's population is non-Italian. But Rome, while nice, is provincial these days. And Tokyo, while awesome, has a bit of a demographic problem.
4/ Even if you think a place doesn't have a lot of immigrants and maybe isn't all that diverse, it is still probably the result of diverse cultures coming together at multiple points throughout history. Maybe because of immigration. Or maybe because of something bad like war. Think of the Moors from northern Africa who crossed the Strait of Gibraltar and conquered the Iberian Peninsula.
5/ An openness to new people could signal and probably does signal an openness to other things. And since we are living in a world that thrives on innovation and new ideas, being open strikes me as being a fairly good and useful characteristic to have.
6/ Lastly, I come from a family of immigrants. I self-identify as being entirely Canadian. But I had to come from somewhere (multiple places, in fact). And so it strikes me as being odd and entirely selfish to want to block the flow of people now that I'm here and established.
What are your thoughts?
