Daily insights for city builders, delivered every morning at 6 AM ET. I’m Brandon Donnelly — a Toronto-based real estate developer and founder of Globizen. I’ve been writing here since 2013.
It is often difficult to grasp. This is why when you look at an empty piece of land, it can sometimes be difficult to visualize actually fitting a building on it. And why when you look at an empty room, it’s common to think, “there’s no way that furniture will fit in here.” But in the end, it does fit.
It also tends to be relative. Here in North America, it is common to argue over things like parking space dimensions and drive aisle widths. We’ll say things like, “well, people like their big cars.” But then you travel to Europe and you find streets like this:
And this:
The first is only marginally bigger than the width of a parking space in Toronto (2.6 meters). And the latter is only marginally bigger than the width of a typical two-way drive aisle (6 meters). So are these too small? Well, it depends on your perspective.
If your basis of measurement is the size of cars, then these streets will seem too small. Cars also keep getting bigger, so you have this inflation factor to deal with. But if your basis of measurement is something else, such as walkability, then maybe they’re just right.
We are staying in our 6th hotel of this trip right now. And only 50% of these hotels have had air conditioning. This had led to a few restless sleeps where it was simply too hot. In one of our hotels, we had to ask them to bring a fan up to our room. But hey, this is Europe. I’m sure everyone thought we were spoiled North Americans. Interestingly enough, not having AC forces you to be more aware of the environment around you. Very quickly you learn that if you don’t shut the blinds or shutters when the afternoon sun is shining in, you are going to end up with a room that is too hot to sleep in. I try to be mindful of this back home in Toronto, where we do have AC, but there really isn’t the same imperative to both design and then operate around climate and local conditions. Active mechanical systems do much of this for us.
The street in front of our hotel is about 8.3m wide. (I actually measured it.) And this is generous for Palma’s Old Town. The building directly in front of us is also 6 storeys tall and has exactly zero setbacks and stepbacks. It is one straight elevation all the way up. In other words, it is an urban condition that does not follow any of today’s generally accepted rules of planning. The street should be wider. And the building should have a bunch of stepbacks, right? Maybe not. Lots of people seem to love this kind of dense, unplanned, and walkable built form in Europe. Eating outside on a narrow street is a feature. But for whatever reason, when people return home, many don’t seem to want it anymore, or worse, they actively oppose it. It’s an interesting dynamic that I don’t fully understand. Because personally, I enjoy visiting places that I could see myself living in. What about you?
Since the modern Olympic Games were revived in 1896, no city has ever hosted swimming events in an urban river. Too poopy. But Paris, as we talked about, hopes to be the first. Starting on July 30, the Seine is scheduled to host the swimming portion of the triathlon competitions.
Except, it will depend on water quality. Today’s training sessions (scheduled for Sunday, July 28) were cancelled because water tests showed that the Seine is currently below acceptable standards. This is due to heavy rain over the last few days, which I guess overloaded the city’s storm network.
So what is clear is that — 36 years after then-Mayor Jacques Chirac first promised to clean up the river — the city has only been able to successfully achieve this, sometimes. It’s not an easy task.
According to Bloomberg, the clean-up efforts have already cost €1.4 billion. This was spent on doing things like constructing a 50,000 m3 holding basin (about the size of 12 Olympic-sized pools) under the Gare D’Austerlitz. This now holds storm overflow during heavy rain events, in lieu of it going into the Seine.
But this doesn’t provide any guarantees as evidenced by today’s cancelled training sessions. Presumably, it just makes it less likely for overflow stormwater to get dumped into the Seine. So a cynic might ask: Why bother with all of this?
Well, for one thing, swimming in a river in the middle of a major global city is just plain cool. Look at how the Swiss do it. But another reason could be that you want to create one of the greenest cities on the planet. And if that’s the case, then seeing athletes swimming in the Seine is a pretty powerful image.
“If I’m an advocate for anything, it’s to move. As far as you can, as much as you can. Across the ocean, or simply across the river. The extent to which you can walk in someone else’s shoes or at least eat their food, it’s a plus for everybody. Open your mind, get up off the couch, move.”
–Anthony Bourdain
My general recipe for travel is as follows: I want to see cool architecture, I want to eat good food, and I want to get a local sense for the place. Meaning, I’d ideally like to hang out with locals and learn from them. What’s it really like, here?
Because of this, I’ve never been one to over schedule on trips. There will be things I absolutely want to see and do, but I always want to make sure that there’s time for the unknown.
I think you want to walk into places that you don’t have on your list, sit at the bar, and have a conversation with the person behind it. You will learn things, and maybe it’ll set you on a travel journey that you couldn’t have possibly planned back home.
That said, guides are still helpful for things like architecture and food. But I have never found general purpose guides — like the ones from Frommer’s — to be of any use. They have too much information that isn’t curated.
When I was in my early 20s, I used to use the Wallpaper* City Guides. They were small. I would mark them up as I went. And they gave me the list of must-see architecture. More recently, I’ve been relying on Monocle’s Travel Guides. They’re great too.
But I am now also a fan of Toronto-based ÅVONTUURA and the architecture guides that they produce. They are simple and beautiful pamphlets that give you a map of each city; a breakdown of contemporary, modern, and historic architecture; a recommended route through the city; and a full list of the important buildings, including their architects.
The founder of Avontuura, Karl van Es, was kind enough to send me their entire set, which as of this month includes new guides for Amsterdam, Berlin, Singapore, and Toronto. Thank you, Karl.
I’m now looking forward to trying one of these out on a future trip. I’m going to use it to decide what architecture I want to visit and, for the rest, I’ll just do what I normally like to do — wing it.
P.S. It took me multiple attempts of tossing these guides onto my kitchen counter in order to arrive at the above photo. I hope you like it.
This evening in French class we discussed a Parisian apartment type called the chambre de bonne. The direct translation is “maid’s room”, and it’s exactly what it sounds like. A small one-room apartment that is found on the top floor of bourgeoisie apartment buildings. Indeed, nearly one-third of Paris’ entire supply of chambres de bonne are in the wealthy 16th arrondissement.
Their original function was to house servants. The reason they were on the penthouse floor is because, when they emerged in Paris in the 1830s, the elevator hadn’t yet been invented. And so this was the least desirable floor. The people staying in these rooms typically worked for the people living on the lowest floors in the same building. That’s where you wanted to be. Fewer stairs.
Fast forward to today, and it is estimated that Paris has somewhere around 114,000 chambres be bonne (also known as chambres de service). They are also occupied by a broad cross section of different people:
But it means living small. The smallest allowable size for an apartment in Paris is 9 m2 (area) or 20 m3 (volume). Meaning, even if the surface area is under the 9 m2 threshold, it might still be able to pass as livable if the ceilings are tall enough. But under these figures, and the place can’t be rented. And supposedly, about half of Paris’ chambres de bonne do not meet these minimum thresholds.
These requirements are immediately interesting to me — not only because they’re much smaller than what we allow in Toronto — but because most people don’t think of real estate in terms of volumes. Ceiling heights, yes. But when have you ever seen or measured the volume of an apartment? It’s clearly appropriate in this instance given that many of these apartments sit under sloping rooflines.
But the most interesting question, I think, is whether this housing type is functionally obsolete. On the one hand, Paris is an expensive city, and these apartments represent what is likely the most affordable housing option. Go on YouTube and you’ll find lots of students giving tours of their compact room-apartments. On the other hand, census data shows that occupancy within his housing type has been steadily declining since at least the 1960s:
Based on these figures from 2011, only about 17,300 chambres de bonne are occupied as a principal residence. This doesn’t seem like a lot for a big city like Paris. (It’s around 1.25% of its entire housing supply based on my rough math.) The rest of these apartments appear to be vacant, ineligible for renting, or serving as a secondary space for owners in the same building.
This represents an ~85% vacancy rate, which begs the question: Is there something more productive that Paris could be doing with all of this under-utilized penthouse space? Though perhaps it’s helpful to start with: would you live in 9 square meters or 97 square feet? This is smaller than the minimum size of a parking space in Toronto.
In 2023, there were 379,000 babies born in Italy. This is down from 393,000 babies in the prior year and represents a new record low. Already in 2022, the number of births was noted as being the fewest since Italy’s unification in 1861. The result is a “demographic winter.” Of course, this challenge is not unique to Italy. It is happening in most developed countries. Korea, for example, has a fertility rate somewhere around 0.72 babies per woman. Because of this, there are a lot of people in the world trying to figure out how to encourage more births.
Meloni, herself a mother of a single child, has said it is a priority for her government to increase the birth rate and encourage women to have more babies “for the simple reason that we want Italy to have a future again”.
So what’s causing this?
One seemingly logical explanation could be that the employment rates for women and men are basically the same now. Fewer women are staying at home and so there’s less time to have and raise children. In fact, the opposite is true. If you look at fertility rates across Europe, high birth rates tend to correlate with high employment rates for women. I guess families need to be able to afford children. Here’s an excerpt from a Guardian article (c. 2015) on the topic of fertility:
The map of the fertility rate in European countries more or less overlaps with that of women in work. In countries with relatively buoyant populations, such as France and Scandinavia, women play an important part in the labour market. According to data for 2010 published by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, the employment rate for women aged 24 to 54 in work was 83.8% in France, 84.4% in Finland, 85.6% in Denmark and 87.5% in Sweden, barely lower than the equivalent figures for men. In contrast, in southern Europe and Japan the share of women in work was much lower: only 64.4% of them had a job in Italy, 71.6% in Japan, 72.2% in Greece and 78.3% in Spain.
Staying on the theme of being able to afford kids, another possible explanation might be that kids are expensive and so you need strong family-friendly government policies to help support them. While this I’m sure helps, there’s data to suggest that the correlation between these policies and birth rates is actually fairly weak. That’s why, even though many developed countries have expanded such policies, birth rates continue to fall. Here’s a graphic by John Burn-Murdoch from FT:
So what the hell is it then? Well there is another possible explanation and it is that it’s more of a cultural thing. In the above article, John makes the argument that a number of other more important factors are leading to declining birth rates. Namely, more people are choosing to live alone, and not as a couple. Priorities have shifted, where family formation is no longer seen as central to a fulfilling life. And more young people are generally anxious. (He doesn’t get into why but I’m sure that it’s possible to blame TikTok.)
But what really stood out to me was this graphic:
Since the 1960s, parenting has gotten systematically more intense for parents. The average number of hours per day spent by mothers on “hands-on parenting activities” has grown significantly in most developed countries. However, there is one clear exception: France. It turns out that the French are, at least based on this data, less likely to be so-called helicopter parents. Parenting is less hands-on, kids get more freedom and — perhaps because of this — France has the highest fertility rate in Europe at over 1.8 babies per woman.
This is not to say that France’s family-friendly policies aren’t doing something as well. I would imagine they are. But the above makes intuitive sense to me. If you create an environment where the threshold to be considered a good parent is constantly becoming more duanting and more life-consuming, it’s no surprise to me that more and more people are simply saying, no thank you.
These are the current (well, 2019) and targeted (2028) mode share splits for Dublin city centre (sourced from here):
The biggest planned change is a ~41% reduction in cars, taxis & goods entering the city centre. More specifically though, the plan contemplates a reduction in the number of cars in the core. The number of taxis and goods being moved around are both expected to increase.
To achieve this, the city is targeting drivers that pass through rather than stop in the city centre. Supposedly, about two out of every three drivers are currently doing this, and so the goal will be to redirect them.
Though, to be clear, this is not a plan to stop people from driving into the city centre. It is rightly about reducing the amount of road space allocated to private vehicles, prioritizing other modes of transport, and creating more “traffic-free civic spaces” for Dubliners and visitors.
Of course, this is what many cities around the world are trying to do. So perhaps the most noteworthy aspect of this plan is that most Dubliners actually support it.
According to The Irish Times, the plan received more than 3,500 public submissions, and 81% supported “reducing road space for private vehicles to facilitate a more efficient public transport system.” Further, 82% said they wanted more pedestrianized public spaces.
There were, however, some concerns expressed. The carpark operators in the city centre are naturally worried about the impact to their businesses. This is expected and self-serving.
Guinness (owned by Diageo) is also asking about how its delivery trucks will get to and from their brewery. This is obviously a crucial consideration. But I’m confident in saying that, whatever gets implemented, I’m sure that nobody is going to mess with the operations of St. James’s Gate Brewery.
In fact, I’d be surprised if this weren’t written into the Constitution of Ireland somewhere.
Here is an interesting set of maps (from this study) showing density trends, population trends, and residential area trends (i.e. sprawl), across Europe between 2006-2012 and 2012-2018:
The key takeaway is that, broadly speaking, there is — or at least there was five years ago — a new density trend across most European cities. From 2006 to 2012, the prevailing trend was de-densification. That is, fewer people per hectare. However, from 2012 to 2018, that trend largely reversed. With the exception of the Iberian Peninsula and Eastern Europe, the majority of cities flipped to densification.
The study tells us that there are two main reasons for this switch. The first is that more cities started growing again. During the first period, about 60% of cities in the sample size of 300+ cities, were adding people. In the second period, this figure increased to 75%. It’s also worth noting that this growth is being largely driven by immigration, and increasingly so. The number of cities with positive natural growth diminished from 67% to 51% between the two study periods.
The second driver is a reduction in sprawl. Though almost every city in the study continued to expand outward, the rate of expansion was much lower between 2012 and 2018. So less land consumption, and more people. That’s how you increase your urban density. Of course, it would be interesting to see if any of this has changed or reversed (again) as a result of the pandemic. 2018 kind of feels like eons ago, doesn’t it?
Here is a neat tool (created by Benjamin Td) that allows you to quickly see how far you can travel in Europe by rail in 5 hours. The way it works is that you just hover over a train station and then the relevant isochrone will show up. Above is what that looks like for Paris’ Gare de Lyon, which has one of if not the largest catchment areas from what I can tell after playing around with the tool for a few minutes. The data being used to power this map is from Deutsche Bahn. And if there’s a transfer on any of the routes, the tool assumes you can make that happen within 20 minutes, which may or may not be realistic. Regardless, it’s fascinating to see just how connected (or disconnected) some cities are. It’s also a shameful reminder that a North American version wouldn’t be nearly as impressive.
