
Over the weekend, we spoke about using road pricing as a way to correct supply and demand imbalances on city roads and highways. Because it turns out that when roads, or anything else for that matter, are free, people tend to use them a lot more. It's why when you suddenly submeter utilities in an apartment building, consumption tends to drop off significantly. Now it's no longer "free".
It's for this exact reason that Venice -- a city that has been complaining about too many tourists for many years -- has decided to implement a new entrance fee. Starting spring 2024, day trippers will have to pay €5 to enter the "old city" of Venice.
If you own a home there, you're exempt because presumably you're already paying property taxes. And if you're staying overnight, you're also exempt, because presumably you're going to be paying whatever hotel taxes the city levies. But if you're just coming in for the day, you're going to need to pay.
Now, I don't know if €5, structured in this way, is going to fully address the city's overtourism concerns. Maybe it needs to be a lot more. But it is a step in the right direction. If you have too much demand for a certain amount of supply, you can generally lower demand by increasing the price. Perhaps the only exception is a Birkin bag. Apparently you can charge any price for these.
Photo by Martin Katler on Unsplash

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

Over the weekend, we spoke about using road pricing as a way to correct supply and demand imbalances on city roads and highways. Because it turns out that when roads, or anything else for that matter, are free, people tend to use them a lot more. It's why when you suddenly submeter utilities in an apartment building, consumption tends to drop off significantly. Now it's no longer "free".
It's for this exact reason that Venice -- a city that has been complaining about too many tourists for many years -- has decided to implement a new entrance fee. Starting spring 2024, day trippers will have to pay €5 to enter the "old city" of Venice.
If you own a home there, you're exempt because presumably you're already paying property taxes. And if you're staying overnight, you're also exempt, because presumably you're going to be paying whatever hotel taxes the city levies. But if you're just coming in for the day, you're going to need to pay.
Now, I don't know if €5, structured in this way, is going to fully address the city's overtourism concerns. Maybe it needs to be a lot more. But it is a step in the right direction. If you have too much demand for a certain amount of supply, you can generally lower demand by increasing the price. Perhaps the only exception is a Birkin bag. Apparently you can charge any price for these.
Photo by Martin Katler on Unsplash

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
We are on the train headed to Milan this morning, so as is customary on this blog, here are a few observations from the last few days in Venice:
Venice was a dominant republic for some 1,000 years. It was the fulcrum point of trade in Europe and, at one point, its wealthiest city. But that started to change in the 15th century, which is an important reminder that nothing is guaranteed. The world changes. Markets change. And maybe you won’t be as relevant tomorrow, unless you can find another economic reason for being.
If you’re an old city with lots of history, perhaps the easiest fallback plan is tourism. And it goes without saying that Venice gets a lot of tourists. I was, of course, one of them. After Italian, the most commonly overheard language on the streets seemed to be French. Maybe it was the time of year?
Besides my debilitating spring allergies, May feels like a reasonably optimal time to visit the city. I don’t think you want to visit Venice in peak summer. Too many meandering tourists taking photos (myself included). And too hot and humid. A high probability of “walking rage.”
Hotels in Venice are not cheap. But the city itself didn’t seem overly expensive, at least compared to many other top tourist destinations. Think €2.50 jugs of wine, €20-30 for very nice local leather goods, and €110 for a 7-course Michelin-starred meal.
Venice has some of the most compact streets I have ever walked in. I didn’t have my laser distance measurer on me, but in many cases, you can barely fit two people side-by-side. I certainly couldn’t extend my arms fully outward. (See above photo.)
Wonderful doorbells. Virtually every apartment in Venice, has an array of doorbells at its front door. They are beautiful, typically in metal, and almost always round. But in addition to looking nice, there is also something very personal and about seeing people’s names right on the street. This probably tells you something about how differently privacy and security are viewed in the city.
That said, Venice isn’t a place where I would want a pied-à-terre. (I like to think about this sort of thing when I travel because it speaks to impressions of a place.) I mean, I love it, but: Too many tourists and the whole “we are sinking and have regular floods” thing seems like a bit of a problem. For me, it’s a city that I’d like to regularly visit. We spent much of our 2 days at the Venice Biennale, and there’s obviously a lot more to see.
Finally, and this also goes without saying, but Venice is a city that is necessarily preoccupied with controlling water. Our hotel room had big rain boots in it, just in case. The base of every building is generally solid up to knee height. Interiors have tall tile baseboards. Front doors have removable flood dams. And there are markings across the city indicating some of its historic flood levels. As I understand it, this was always a problem for Venice; however, it is getting worse. I think it tells you just how economically valuable it was for Venice to be located where it is, in a shallow lagoon at the top of the Adriatic Sea.
We are on the train headed to Milan this morning, so as is customary on this blog, here are a few observations from the last few days in Venice:
Venice was a dominant republic for some 1,000 years. It was the fulcrum point of trade in Europe and, at one point, its wealthiest city. But that started to change in the 15th century, which is an important reminder that nothing is guaranteed. The world changes. Markets change. And maybe you won’t be as relevant tomorrow, unless you can find another economic reason for being.
If you’re an old city with lots of history, perhaps the easiest fallback plan is tourism. And it goes without saying that Venice gets a lot of tourists. I was, of course, one of them. After Italian, the most commonly overheard language on the streets seemed to be French. Maybe it was the time of year?
Besides my debilitating spring allergies, May feels like a reasonably optimal time to visit the city. I don’t think you want to visit Venice in peak summer. Too many meandering tourists taking photos (myself included). And too hot and humid. A high probability of “walking rage.”
Hotels in Venice are not cheap. But the city itself didn’t seem overly expensive, at least compared to many other top tourist destinations. Think €2.50 jugs of wine, €20-30 for very nice local leather goods, and €110 for a 7-course Michelin-starred meal.
Venice has some of the most compact streets I have ever walked in. I didn’t have my laser distance measurer on me, but in many cases, you can barely fit two people side-by-side. I certainly couldn’t extend my arms fully outward. (See above photo.)
Wonderful doorbells. Virtually every apartment in Venice, has an array of doorbells at its front door. They are beautiful, typically in metal, and almost always round. But in addition to looking nice, there is also something very personal and about seeing people’s names right on the street. This probably tells you something about how differently privacy and security are viewed in the city.
That said, Venice isn’t a place where I would want a pied-à-terre. (I like to think about this sort of thing when I travel because it speaks to impressions of a place.) I mean, I love it, but: Too many tourists and the whole “we are sinking and have regular floods” thing seems like a bit of a problem. For me, it’s a city that I’d like to regularly visit. We spent much of our 2 days at the Venice Biennale, and there’s obviously a lot more to see.
Finally, and this also goes without saying, but Venice is a city that is necessarily preoccupied with controlling water. Our hotel room had big rain boots in it, just in case. The base of every building is generally solid up to knee height. Interiors have tall tile baseboards. Front doors have removable flood dams. And there are markings across the city indicating some of its historic flood levels. As I understand it, this was always a problem for Venice; however, it is getting worse. I think it tells you just how economically valuable it was for Venice to be located where it is, in a shallow lagoon at the top of the Adriatic Sea.
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