Performing Cultural Tourism

While experiential staging is well documented in tourism studies, not enough has been
written about the diverse types of experiences and expectations that visitors bring to
the tourist space and how communities respond to, or indeed challenge, these expec-
tations. This book brings together new ideas about cultural experiences and how
communities, creative producers, and visitors can productively engage with competing
interests and notions of experience and authenticity in the tourist environment.
Part I considers the experiences of communities in meeting the needs of cultural
tourists in an international context. Part II analyses the relationships between indivi-
dual cultural tourists, the community, and digital technology. Finally, Part III responds
to new methodologies in relation to interactions between government and regional
policy and community development.
Focusing on the way in which communities and visitors ‘perform’ new forms of
cultural tourism, Performing Cultural Tourism is aimed at undergraduate students,
researchers, academics, and a diverse range of professionals at both private and gov-
ernment levels that are seeking to develop policies and business plans that recognize
and respond to new interests in contemporary tourism.

Susan Carson, Associate Professor, teaches and researches in the Creative Industries
Faculty at Queensland University of Technology, Brisbane, Australia. She received her
PhD from the University of Queensland, Brisbane, and now publishes in the fields of
cultural tourism, Australian studies and postgraduate pedagogy. Susan’s most recent
publication in the tourism sector is ‘Literature, tourism and the city: Writing and cultural
change’ with Lesley Hawkes, Kari Gislason and Kate Cantrell in the Journal of Tourism
and Cultural Change (2016). She reviews submissions for international journals in the
tourism sector as well as for creative industries journals, and is the co-author of a national
Australian government Office of Learning and Teaching report into creative practice-led
research in Australian universities (2014).

Mark Pennings is a Senior Lecturer in Art History and Theory in Visual Arts in the
Creative Industries Faculty of the Queensland University of Technology, Brisbane,
Australia. Pennings’ research interests include visual arts, cultural tourism, the experi-
ence economy, cultural and political theory, social and sporting history and pedagogy in
international learning. He teaches postwar and contemporary art, and runs study tours
to New York City and Tokyo. Pennings has produced many art reviews, catalogue essays
and articles in journals such as Art Forum, Art Monthly, Art and Australia and Eyeline.
He has presented national and international conference papers in the field of cultural
tourism, and is interested in the impact of corporate culture on the infrastructures of
tourism in a global experience economy. He has studied art and art museums in
experiencescapes, and has examined the role of Museum of Old and New Art (Hobart)
and the Gallery of Modern Art (Brisbane) in Australian cultural tourism.
New Directions in Tourism Analysis
Series Editor: Dimitri Ioannides
E-TOUR, Mid Sweden University, Sweden

Although tourism is becoming increasingly popular both as a taught subject

and an area for empirical investigation, the theoretical underpinnings of many
approaches have tended to be eclectic and somewhat underdeveloped. However,
recent developments indicate that the field of tourism studies is beginning to
develop in a more theoretically informed manner, but this has not yet been
matched by current publications.
The aim of this series is to fill this gap with high quality monographs or
edited collections that seek to develop tourism analysis at both theoretical and
substantive levels using approaches which are broadly derived from allied social
science disciplines such as Sociology, Social Anthropology, Human and Social
Geography, and Cultural Studies. As tourism studies covers a wide range of
activities and sub fields, certain areas such as Hospitality Management and
Business, which are already well provided for, would be excluded. The series will
therefore fill a gap in the current overall pattern of publication.
Suggested themes to be covered by the series, either singly or in combination,
include: consumption; cultural change; development; gender; globalisation;
political economy; social theory; and sustainability.

For a full list of titles in this series, please visit www.routledge.com/New-

Directions-in-Tourism-Analysis/book-series/ASHSER1207

39. Tourism Destination Evolution

Edited Patrick Brouder, Salvador Anton Clavé, Alison Gill and
Dimitri Ioannides

40. Tourism, Travel, and Blogging

A Discursive Analysis of Online Travel Narratives
Deepti Ruth Azariah

41. Metropolitan Commuter Belt Tourism

Edited by Michał Jacenty Sznajder

42. Performing Cultural Tourism

Communities, Tourists and Creative Practices
Edited by Susan Carson and Mark Pennings
Performing Cultural Tourism
Communities, Tourists and
Creative Practices

Edited by
Susan Carson and Mark Pennings
First published 2017
by Routledge
2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN
and by Routledge
711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017
Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business
© 2017 selection and editorial matter, Susan Carson and Mark Pennings;
individual chapters, the contributors
The right of Susan Carson and Mark Pennings to be identified as the
authors of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual
chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or
utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now
known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in
any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing
from the publishers.
Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or
registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation
without intent to infringe.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
A catalog record for this book has been requested

ISBN: 978-1-138-04142-4 (hbk)

ISBN: 978-1-315-17446-4 (ebk)

Typeset in Times New Roman

by Taylor & Francis Books
This book is dedicated to our colleagues, at home and abroad,
who make cultural tourism research so rewarding.
This page intentionally left blank
Contents

List of figures ix
List of tables x
List of contributors xi

Methodologies of touristic exchange: an introduction 1

SUSAN CARSON

PART I
Cooperation, exchange negotiation: the shared needs of
Indigenous communities and cultural tourists 11
1 ‘Temporary belonging’: Indigenous cultural tourism and
community art centres 13
SALLY BUTLER

2 Saving Sagada 29
PATRICIA MARIA SANTIAGO

3 Native American communities and community development:

the case of Navajo Nation 44
CHRISTINE N. BUZINDE, VANESSA VANDEVER AND GYAN NYAUPANE

PART II
The cultural tourist, social media and self-exploration 61
4 Investigating the role of virtual peer support in Asian youth
tourism 63
HILARY DU CROS

5 Doing literary tourism – an autoethnographic approach 81

TIM MIDDLETON
viii Contents
6 Creative cultural tourism development: a tourist perspective 99
YANG ZHANG AND PHILIP XIE

7 #travelselfie: a netnographic study of travel identity

communicated via Instagram 115
ULRIKE GRETZEL

PART III
Cultural precincts, events and managing tourist and community
expectations 129
8 The creative turn: cultural tourism at Australian convict
heritage sites 131
SUSAN CARSON AND JOANNA HARTMANN

9 Cultural tourism and the Olympic movement in Greece 147

EVANGELIA KASIMATI AND NIKOLAOS VAGIONIS

10 Local/global: David Walsh’s Museum of Old and New Art and

its impact on the local community and the Tasmanian tourist
industry 164
MARK PENNINGS

Conclusion 182
SUSAN CARSON AND MARK PENNINGS

Index 187
Figures

2.1 Tourism benefit distribution 31

2.2 Tourist arrivals in Sagada 31
3.1 GMP strategic planning meeting 49
3.2 Co-learning through site visitation 52
5.1 OS map (from Explorer sheet 358) showing the location of Bac
Chrom 91
6.1 Pic Albergue da Santa Casa da Misericórdia Macau 105
7.1 Groufie with grand vista taken at Praça do Papa in Belo
Horizonte, Brazil 123
8.1 Military guardhouse, convict precinct, Cockatoo Island 137
8.2 Cockatoo Island campground 140
9.1 Athens 2004 152
10.1 Exterior view of MONA (on the left) approaching the MONA
ferry terminal from the Derwent River, Hobart 165
10.2 Interior view of MONA showing Julius Popp’s Bit.Fall (2005) 170
Tables

4.1 Use of information sources before and during the trip 73

5.1 Common features in autoethnography and literary
tourism practice as exemplified in Edward Thomas’s
In Pursuit of Spring 89
6.1 Profile of sample respondents (N=412) 107
6.2 Tourists’ perception of creative tourism destination 108
6.3 The result of tourists’ perceptions 109
9.1 Post-Olympic use of the Greek Olympic venues 148
9.2 Competitiveness of cultural resources of selected countries,
according to the TTTCI Index (2013) 157
10.1 MONA visitor numbers 169
Contributors

Associate Professor Susan Carson (Australia) teaches and researches in the

Creative Industries Faculty at Queensland University of Technology, Bris-
bane. She received her PhD from the University of Queensland, Brisbane,
and now publishes in the fields of cultural tourism, Australian studies and
postgraduate pedagogy. Susan’s most recent publication in the tourism
sector is ‘Literature, tourism and the city: Writing and cultural change’
with Lesley Hawkes, Kari Gislason and Kate Cantrell in the Journal of
Tourism and Cultural Change (2016). She reviews submissions for interna-
tional journals in the tourism sector as well as for creative industries jour-
nals, and is the co-author of a national Australian government Office of
Learning and Teaching report into creative practice-led research in Aus-
tralian universities (2014).
Dr Mark Pennings (Australia) is a Senior Lecturer in Art History and Theory
in Visual Arts in the Creative Industries Faculty of the Queensland University
of Technology, Brisbane. Dr Pennings’s research interests include visual
arts, cultural tourism, the experience economy, cultural and political
theory, social and sporting history, and pedagogy in international learning.
He teaches postwar and contemporary art, and runs study tours to New
York City and Tokyo. Pennings has produced many art reviews, catalogue
essays and articles in journals such as Art Forum, Art Monthly, Art and
Australia and Eyeline. He has presented national and international con-
ference papers in the field of cultural tourism, and is interested in the impact
of corporate culture on the infrastructures of tourism in a global experience
economy. He has studied art and art museums in experiencescapes, and
has examined the role of Museum of Old and New Art (Hobart) and the
Gallery of Modern Art (Brisbane) in Australian cultural tourism.
Associate Professor Sally Butler (Australia) is Associate Professor in Art
History in the School of Communication and Arts, the University of
Queensland, Australia. Her research focuses on cross-cultural and inter-
disciplinary approaches to contemporary Indigenous art and culture, con-
temporary aesthetics, and visual politics. Sally is also a freelance curator
and arts writer and has organised cultural workshops and field schools in
xii Contributors
remote Australian Indigenous communities for the past 15 years. Recent
publications include ‘Radical dreaming: Cultural diplomacy and aboriginal
art’ (co-authored with Roland Bleiker) in International Political Sociology
(2016), the Torres Strait Island volume of Taba Naba – Australia, Oceania,
arts of the sea people exhibition catalogues for the Oceanographic Museum of
Monaco (2016), and a chapter on “Indigeneity” in the forthcoming Routledge
publication Visual global politics. Recent curated exhibitions include Brian
Robinson: Pacific crosscurrents (2016), and Cross pose, body language in
Australian Indigenous art (2015).
Ms Patricia Maria Santiago (Philippines) is an administrator and activist in
the area of community, heritage and tourism in the Philippines. She is the
Secretariat Head at ICOMOS, Philippines. She has acted as a research fellow
at the Korea Culture and Tourism Institute, and was a research fellow of their
Cultural Partnership Initiative Program in 2012. Patricia is also a member of
the Philippines National Commission for Culture and the Arts, and is a
facilitator for Cultural Mapping and Cultural Tourism, and Art and Cultural
Education, at the Cultural Center of the Philippines. Patricia presented the
paper ‘Viajeng Cusinang Matua: A journey through the old kitchens of
Pampanga’ at the 2014 Third International Congress UNITWIN UNESCO
Network, ‘Culture, tourism, development’ in Barcelona, Spain.
Dr Christine N. Buzinde (USA) is an Associate Professor in the School of
Community Resources and Development at the College of Public Service
and Community Solutions, Arizona State University, Phoenix, Arizona.
Christine Buzinde’s research focuses on two areas: community development
through tourism and the politics of tourism representations. Her work on
representations regards tourism texts as cultural repositories through which
inclusion/exclusion, North/South and core/periphery can be understood.
She examines texts as sites wherein entanglements of power and oppression as
well as depictions of agency and resistance can be unveiled. Dr Buzinde’s
work on development adopts a grassroots approach and it aims to understand
the relationship, or lack thereof, between community well-being and tourism
development within marginalized communities. She conducts research in
Tanzania, Mexico, India, Canada, and the US. She has published numerous
articles in tourism, geographical and cultural studies journals.
Ms Vanessa Vandever (USA) has a BA in Political Science from Stanford
University, USA. She is the Program Manager for the Grand Canyon Trust
Native America Program where she is responsible for assisting communities
with a variety of sustainable economic development projects. Ms Vandever
also coordinates the General Management Plan (GMP) project for the
Navajo Nation Parks and Recreation Department (NNPRD).
Dr Gyan Nyaupane (USA) is an Associate Professor in the School of
Community Resources and Development at the College of Public Service
and Community Solutions, Arizona State University, Phoenix, Arizona.
 Contributors xiii
Dr Nyaupane’s research focuses on two major areas: communities, public
lands and sustainable tourism; and tourist behaviours and attitudes. The
overarching theme of his research is to understand the complex relationships
humans have with natural and cultural environments, particularly how
tourism can transform those relationships. Dr Nyaupane’s research aims to
advance knowledge in the field of tourism, help managers in decision-making,
and more importantly, empower communities that are most vulnerable to
global environmental and economic changes. He conducts research in
South Asia, Southern Africa, South East Asia and North America. He has
published one co-edited book and more than 45 peer-reviewed papers and
book chapters.
Professor Hilary du Cros (Hong Kong) is Associate Professor at the Hong
Kong University of Education and teaches in the area of Cultural Tourism
in the Department of Cultural and Creative Arts. Her key publications
include: Cultural tourism: The partnership between tourism and cultural
heritage management (with Bob McKercher, 2002); Cultural heritage
management in China: Preserving the cities of the Pearl River Delta (with
Yok-shiu F. Lee, 2007); ‘World heritage-themed souvenirs for Asian tourists:
A case study from Macau, in Tourism and souvenirs: Global perspectives
from the margins (2013); The Arts and Events (with Lee Jolliffe, 2014); and
Cultural Tourism (with Bob McKercher, 2014).
Professor Tim Middleton (UK) is Vice-Chancellor of Writtle University
College, Chelmsford, Essex, UK. Professor Middleton has published
respected research on a wide variety of writers, including D.H. Lawrence,
Joseph Conrad, Iain Banks, Will Self, Patrick McCabe, Colm Toibin and
Joseph O’Connor. He is co-author (with Professor Judy Giles) of Study-
ing culture: A practical introduction (2007). His current research project is
exploring the role of literary places in contemporary British culture via
studies of real and imagined literary locations in cultural heritage
tourism.
Dr Yang Zhang (China) is Assistant Professor of Faculty of Hospitality and
Tourism Management at Macau University of Science and Technology,
Macau, China. Zhang’s specialization is cultural tourism and has pub-
lished articles in Annals of Tourism Research, Leisure Studies and Current
Issues in Tourism.
Dr Philip Feifan Xie (China) is Dean and Professor of Faculty of Hospitality
and Tourism Management at Macau University of Science and Technology,
Macau, China. His areas of specializations include heritage tourism, event
management and the morphology of tourism.
Professor Ulrike Gretzel (USA) is a Visiting Professor at the Annenberg
School for Communication and Journalism, University of Southern California.
Before joining USC, she was a professor in the Business School at the
xiv Contributors
University of Queensland, Brisbane. She also held appointments at the
University of Wollongong and Texas A&M University. She received her PhD
in Communications from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign.
Her research focuses on persuasion in human-technology interactions, infor-
mation search and processing, electronic decision aids, smart technologies,
social media users, online and social media marketing, adoption and use of
communication technologies, as well as non-adoption and digital detox.
Ms Joanna Hartmann (Australia) is a PhD candidate in the Creative Industries
Faculty at Queensland University of Technology, Brisbane. She teaches
communication subjects at QUT as a sessional academic. She is currently
completing her doctoral thesis ‘Arresting resistance: revealing cultures of
girlhood, discipline, and defiance on Cockatoo Island’, using a cultural
studies approach to investigate the island’s nineteenth-century institutions:
the Biloela Industrial School for Girls and the Biloela Reformatory for
Females. This research offers new approaches to examining historic sites and
the ways in which marginalised histories are managed at such sites today.
Dr Evangelia Kasimati (Greece) is an economist at the Central Bank of
Greece and head of the tourism research unit at the ATINER Institute in
Athens. Prior to this appointment, she was a research fellow in tourism eco-
nomics and applied econometrics at the Centre for Planning and Economic
Research, Athens, and was a visiting Research Fellow at the Department of
Economics at the University of Bath, UK. Her research and teaching interests
lie in the areas of financial economics, tourism and sports economics, and
macroeconomics. Dr Kasimati currently teaches a postgraduate course in the
Department of Tourism Management at the Hellenic Open University.
Dr Nikolaos G Vagionis (Greece) has a PhD in Economics from the London
School of Economics and his primary area of research is in planning and
economics. In 1995 Nikolaos began to work with the Centre of Planning
and Economic Research, KEPE, Greece, and is now a senior researcher at
that institution. He has worked with the Technological Educational Institute
of Athens, from 2001, lecturing on tourism economics, tourism policy and
research methodology. He has also lectured at the Hellenic Open University
and writes and presents papers and seminars on the subjects of regional and
sustainable development, tourism, ecology and technology transfer.
Methodologies of touristic exchange
An introduction
Susan Carson

The field of cultural tourism studies is ever expanding as tourists desire an

array of travel opportunities, and tourist providers and intermediaries provide
experiences that are informative, entertaining and seek to meet community
expectations. The term ‘experience’ is useful in tourism today but has almost
become a cliché as tourist providers market the language of experience in
their bid to attract tourist capital. At the same time, this term aptly describes
the tourist search for an increasingly diverse and profound engagement with
sites and events, while gaining access to expanded global and local transport
and tourism networks. As scholars have noted for some time, many tourism
sectors now promote co-production, that is an experience in which the visitor
takes an active role in producing artifacts or directly engaging with events, as
a means by which to access and enhance experiential knowledge. It is clear
that today’s tourists want to ‘make’ and ‘do’ as well as ‘watch’.
Such engagement constitutes the many relationships involved in a cultural
tourism experience: provider to consumer and vice versa; consumer to consumer.
There are also the communities that support and encourage various cultural
offerings. The goal of this book is to trace some of these emerging relation-
ships in physical and virtual contexts, arguing that the agency demanded by
tourists requires a greater sense of cooperation between various stakeholders
in tourism locations. We use the term ‘cooperation’ for proposing new meth-
odologies of cultural tourism because ‘co-production’ is quite a challenging
term in that it presumes a balance of interests, and, as some of the chapters in
this book indicate, that balance that does not always exist. A focus on coop-
eration recognizes the critical role that negotiation plays between consumer
and producer, and acknowledges that the nature of performance in tourist
activity is normally a temporary, and often transitory, agreement between
provider and user.
Here we emphasize as well the relationship of self-to-self, because many
travellers are seeking greater insights into self-knowledge by way of virtual,
social media or physical activities. In this context, we draw attention to the
notion of performativities, as discussed by Kevin Hannam (2006) and suggest
how those performative enactments work to extend or re-draw tourism rela-
tionships in diverse environments. This framework of linking cooperation and
2 Susan Carson
performativities connects a desire for personal creativity, that is to actively
‘do’; to participate in one’s tourist experience, and a need to ‘belong’ to a host
or peer group. In the process, we see new formations of tourist engagement
that play with traditional ‘mass’, ‘cultural’, ‘niche’, or ‘heritage’ labels. For
example, it is much more common today for group travellers to use online
environments to source ‘pre-trip’ information and plan their travels with peers
before leaving home. At the same time research indicates that tourists expect an
element of surprise from travel experience. Other tourists such as solo-adven-
turers use both virtual and physical aids to go ‘off the track’ and entirely
design their own itineraries. One of the interesting aspects of the changing
tempo of cultural tourism is that ‘cultural tourists’, who may include artists
or performers travelling for work or leisure, now recognize that at times they
are also ‘mass’ tourists as they selectively engage in tours and travel that is
aimed at large groups to major destinations, as Bill Aitchison’s (2016)
research into anti-tours has revealed.
In this, environment tourism providers, including community groups, are
expected to manage diverse expectations and complement conventional tours
with tailored events and specialized knowledge while seeking to protect familiar
and long-cherished customs. Many Indigenous communities are searching for a
way to present their locations and their cultural heritage to interested visitors
without incurring environmental or cultural damage. They are also attempting to
educate visitors about their culture, as Sally Butler identifies when proposing
the framework of ‘temporary belonging’ in relation to Australian Indigenous
tourism in her chapter. This desire for belonging is expressed in other
domains scrutinized in this book. For instance Hilary du Cros’s study of
young Asian tourists visiting Hong Kong records that one interviewee wanted
to be “a temporary resident” while there in Hong Kong, which suggests that
what was once considered the ‘backstage’ of the tourism venture is now at the
forefront of desirable experience for some visitors and providers. The concept
of backstage here refers to the discourse around staging that has been studied
by Erving Goffman, Dean MacCannell and others, noting in particular
MacCannell’s 2008 observation that ‘stages’ operate as a series of infinite
regressions, and that these processes complicate notions of authenticity. As
MacCannell cogently explained: “having a famous anthropologist as your tour
guide; having him explain your experience to you in terms that go beyond and
beneath the touristic representation is staged authenticity par excellence”
(MacCannell, 2008, p. 337). The search for greater engagement complements
the tourist’s desire for participating in an authentic experience that is often
individuated but can also be collectively expressed in virtual or physical
domains. Here we begin to see a democratic sharing of communal cultural
experience as well as a willingness to respect the privilege of admission to
‘backstage’ access sometimes provided by host communities.
This type of interaction flags new sites of exchange in which communities,
creative producers, cultural representatives and visitors seek cooperative
arrangements. We explore methodologies that prioritize how community
 Introduction 3
interests can intersect with the desires of tourists who may want to engage
more fully with the nuanced understanding of the backstage from the point of
view, in part, of the brokers in this ecology: from Indigenous representatives
in communities to the social media forums that host peer-to-peer interactions
as Hilary du Cros and Ulrike Gretzel reveal in their chapters. In examining the
notion of cooperative spheres, the term exchange becomes crucial as a way of
understanding a culture-led perspective of cultural tourism. This process takes
place between people (on an individual level, in relation to communication)
and concomitantly between cultures (watching cultural performances, listening
to stories, eating local food, education); between people and sites/environments
(getting there, airplane, car, bus, walking, the pilgrimage; seeing buildings of
significance) and economic exchange (why governments support large cultural
projects, and the way small towns and Indigenous communities prepare to
attract tourists). Many of the chapters in this book consider the sites of
exchange embedded in cultural tourism and the new methodologies associated
with such arrangements that bring culture into focus in new ways.
In this shifting ground of cultural tourism there may well be transitions
from co-production models that have been dominant in recent discourses on
such topics, towards informed cooperative agreements, a process that is exam-
ined by Patricia Santiago in her chapter. In this context, the term ‘commu-
nity’ can relate to a specific geography, social, or cultural practice, or a virtual
landscape, as all of these sites enable the sharing of experiences between
communities of producers and consumers in tourist cultures. There is the
opportunity to mix the staged offerings for tourists with the tourist’s desire for
a performative experience and to think about the ‘doing’ of tourism as fluid
and negotiable. The question of the interaction between a curated delivery of
tourism experience and the potential to open up space for self-guided or even
subversive activities (here we think of the anti-capitalist tour of London’s
banking district organized by Bill Aitchison) complicates and enlivens the
tourism sector (Aitchison, 2016).
Our term ‘performing cultural tourism’ therefore acknowledges cultural
studies’ understandings of performativity that seem to best describe the current
transition in tourist experience, and extends these notions to newly sought-after
spaces where visitors and communities participate in cultural exchanges, which
can function as cooperative spheres of interaction. Tourists are currently
expecting to participate in and seemingly co-create their experience while
accepting the transitory nature of this negotiation, and the ‘staged authenticity’
that often accompanies it, as MacCannell has identified. In this situation, new
methodologies need to be developed to understand and explain the dynamics
of community-to-tourist interactions. In this context, it is also timely to keep in
mind the postcolonial legacies that are present when investigating the tensions
between Eurocentric and other tourism traditions, and to recognize that the
communal links between culture, landscape and Indigenous knowledge systems
are critical in the types of interface that exist between local people and tourist
cultures. These will surely have greater influence in future tourism configurations.
4 Susan Carson
Given the growing importance of cultural tourism to many countries’
economies, and the potential of cultural erasure, as outlined by Tim Winter, it
seems opportune to investigate the ways in which distinct cultures are working to
accommodate (or not) touristic expectations. It is imperative to identify a range
of methodologies that are being developed or implemented to accommodate
the increasingly complex crossover between host cultures and touristic product.
The methodologies presented in this book are diverse. The connective tissue
of these chapters is cooperation, creativity and negotiation: between tourist
and provider, between different levels of government instrumentalities and
between tourism organizations and residents.
The heritage sector is one area that illustrates the increasing attention to
the processes of negotiation in tourism. Winter’s analysis of UNESCO heritage
applications (2016) concludes that forms of heritage tourism can become
expressions of global power in which heritage has “emerged as an important
form of spatial and social governance” (2016, p. 9). Winter also proposes that in
this new orientation the strategic allocation of capital “raises important
questions concerning new forms of cultural erasure and coloniality and the
political violence they deliver” (2016, p. 10). These observations offer an infor-
mative context to the local and regional battles around heritage announced in
the chapters by Santiago and Christine Buzinde, Vanessa Vandever and Gyan
Nyaupane. As Santiago and Buzinde et al. indicate, some communities are
attempting to protect and assert their historical cultural identity and practices
while negotiating government legislation, commercial opportunities and
tourist demands. The role of government is queried in a study by Evangelia
Kasimati and Nikolaos Vagionis who examine the legacy of the 2004 Olympic
Games in Greece. Their work draws attention to the local problems that
ensue from large-scale international events designed as a flagship for a mix of
sporting and heritage cultures.
This book concentrates on the way in which communities and visitors
negotiate new forms of cultural tourism, offering methodologies that explain
engagement in local and regional contexts. In this framework digital innovation
is acknowledged as one of several approaches that are transforming the field of
cultural tourism. No distribution channel has made a more significant impact
on contemporary experience than the digital realm. Hilary du Cros’s chapter
is a significant addition to the assessment of the impact of virtual technologies
in tourism given her aim to understand the ‘whys’ of such attitudes and the
perceptions that have been revealed in her research. According to Ana M.
Munar and Can-Seng Ooi (2012), there is a relatively small number of studies
that examine virtual worlds and their effect on heritage in the tourism sector,
therefore, the chapters by Ulrike Gretzel and du Cros add much needed
scholarship by drawing on qualitative research to enhance our knowledge of
this emerging field of study. Indeed, Gretzel extends this research in her
consideration of the aesthetic and artistic qualities of selfies on Instagram.
The acts of visual curation of the self for platforms such as Instagram, as
Gretzel reveals, point to the quest for the extraordinary fuelled by social
 Introduction 5
media. Gretzel analyses the content of selfies to identify how these images are
constructed to make them ‘share-worthy’.
Given the impact of the digital presence in tourism, Tim Middleton’s find-
ing that digital production, in this case for a literary trail, can limit rather
than expand the type of experience sought is a valuable insight. In modelling
an analytical autoethnographic approach Middleton reappraises and chal-
lenges prior assumptions about the self as researcher and consumer. Certainly,
there is an “enhanced personal creativity” in the digital coverage of tourist
adventures, but Middleton’s research also considers the challenges in planning
for an immersive literary trail that is delivered via a mobile phone app.
We find that each chapter, albeit in different ways, refers to the increasing
focus on tourism as a learning experience (for Buzinde et al. a ‘co-learning’
experience) for consumers and producers. Many tourism providers supply
accommodation, entertainment and tours, but some also wish to dispense
cultural knowledge. This educative aspect is a feature of the chapters by du
Cros, and Yang Zhang and Philip Xie. Zhang’s and Xie’s research describes
tourist motivation that is attuned to both learning and entertainment. Du
Cros documents the intense exchange of knowledge that is involved in the
preparation for travel to a destination. Certainly, there is an “enhanced per-
sonal creativity” in the digital coverage of tourist adventures, as Ana M.
Munar and Can-Seng Ooi proposed (2012, p. 257).

***
Part I of this book focuses on the shared needs of Indigenous communities
and cultural tourists. In this context, Sally Butler’s participatory research
(Chapter 1) with Indigenous Australians is an important addition to the
discourse of international cultural tourism. Butler adapts the concept of
‘temporary belonging’ (that relates to tourists’ emotional attachment to place)
to the growth of Indigenous community art centres in Australia, and proposes
that the idea of temporary belonging provides an alternative model to
authenticity debates in cultural tourism. In this chapter Anke Tonnaer’s 2010
study of the concept of shared culture in Australian Indigenous tourism is
examined and connections made with the performative-based methodologies
that are a focus of this collection. A central feature of Butler’s work is her
inclusion of both virtual and physical sites: she shows how a digital site such
as Arnhemweavers can support community-based immersive tourism, and
also explains the processes involved in supporting student groups in a unique
learning experience at the remote location of Mäpuru in the Northern Territory,
Australia.
Patricia Santiago’s contribution (Chapter 2) is important to this collection
because it presents a study of an initiative in Sagada, Philippines, from the
‘ground-up’ in which communities argue for the development of a sustainable
practice in cultural tourism that values spiritual and religious beliefs and
practices. This tension between the secular and the sacred, as is evidenced in
6 Susan Carson
the negotiation between development and conservation, takes place in an
environment framed by the opportunism of previous local and regional
authorities. Santiago follows the efforts of some local leaders to develop effica-
cious systems of decision-making and communal and participatory processes,
as well as the proposal to revive a tripartite system of decision-making in the
face of local political tensions. In this instance, the way in which cultural
tourism can be harnessed in a spirit of cooperation for the common good is
an important factor for the community.
Similarly Christine Buzinde’s, Vanessa Vandever’s and Gyan Nyaupane’s
research (Chapter 3) focuses on socio-political conditions in the Navajo
Nation reservation in the United States. These authors track local efforts to
create multi-agency coalitions to devise a development plan that is inclusive
of all residents of the Navajo Nation and is respectful of Indigenous culture.
Using community-based participatory research (CBPR) the authors frame the
Nation’s desire for tourism products to alleviate the area’s long-term under-
development and abject poverty, while at the same time indicating that com-
munities are wary of being unfairly exploited by insensitive outside tourism
investors. At the heart of the work by Buzinde, Vandever and Nyaupane, and
by Santiago is a search for an equitable sharing of power in the context of
wider economic pressures and opposition at times from within Indigenous
community sectors.
In Part II, Hilary du Cros (Chapter 4) investigates the types of decision-
making made by a group of Asian youth who travelled to Hong Kong.
These decisions are informed by a particular sociability and by educational
aspirations as articulated in blog sites, and also refer to the potentially
exploitative nature of digital surveillance when information is analysed by
those who ‘lurk’ on social media sites, including commercial providers of
tourism and academics studying tourism. Like Middleton, du Cros notes the
importance of self-reflexivity on the part of the researcher. This chapter
discusses issues of narcissism, trust and self-censorship in the use of online
sites proposing that an emerging culture of narcissism in some social media
experiences can play a role in virtual peer support and travel decision-
making. The findings indicate the importance of self-awareness and self-
improvement in relation to travel, and how tourists can become more aware
of travel impacts by sharing information and notions about the most valu-
able kinds of travel experience.
The quest for understanding via ethnographic principles of research
immersion is taken up by Tim Middleton in Chapter 5. Here the author
compares two self-guided literary tourist journeys: the first following a ‘classic’
autoethnographic account (Edward Thomas’s literary tour of South West
England); and the second focusing on the challenges of developing an app to
follow in the footsteps of Scottish writer Iain Banks. Middleton finds a gap
between a tourist’s imaginative appreciation of a creative work and the iden-
tification of points of action in a creative work via an app. As an auto-
ethnographer, the author compares the benefits of using long-established
 Introduction 7
literary narrative techniques to deliver information about a novel’s location
with new technologies available for the enhancement of literary trails. In this
process the author confronts his own position as a member of a research
community and all that this entails for the performative engagement of cultural
tourism. As Middleton argues, the challenge for heritage custodians and
tourism agencies is to adequately translate personal experience into digital
platforms that can be confidently used by individual and group tourists.
Yang Zhang and Philip Xie in Chapter 6 ‘Creating cultural tourism devel-
opment: A tourist perspective’ study the potential of creative tourism in
Macau. This chapter provides new data on the ways local communities both
produce and benefit from creative tourism. The authors use Greg Richards’s
definition of creative tourism, stating that its common components are “partici-
pative, authentic experiences that allow tourists to develop their creative
potential and skills through contact with local people and their culture”
(Richards, 2011, p. 1237), which makes the point that the creative tourist is
essentially involved in a learning process. In their study of tourists to the
Albergue Art Space in Macau the authors are, like du Cros, interested in
understanding tourist perceptions and the concepts of creative tourism that are
taken to a location. Zhang’s and Xie’s study supports this book’s general thesis
that tourists want to actively combine a range of diverse activities when visiting
a location. In this enterprise tourists require greater access to culture and
history and are seeking educative outcomes. As the authors state, the creative
tourist is, in many respects, essentially involved in “a learning process”.
Social media change and the search for the extraordinary is a focus in
Chapter 7, in which Ulrike Gretzel explores selfies taken while travelling.
Given that one of the goals of this book is to propose new methodologies for
cultural tourism research, Gretzel’s argument for a deepening of netnography
(as a subset of ethnography) to allow for further immersion in the subject areas
is important. Gretzel acknowledges the process of ‘lurking’ on social media to
obtain public data captured via screenshots and argues that such photographs
communicate a sense of the subject’s travel identity. She also recognizes the
significance of the ‘selfie’ as a social phenomenon that can tell us much, not only
about tourist engagement with a visited site, but also about broader conceptions
of selfhood in the contemporary era.
Part III presents three case studies that discuss new frameworks for the
mixing of institutional cultural heritage and contemporary cultural produc-
tion. In Chapter 8, Susan Carson and Joanna Hartmann consider re-framing
issues around cultural tourism methodologies by thinking through a ‘creative
turn’ in cultural tourism that involves managers, tourists, hosts and resident
communities that re-work or fictionalize aspects of the past for contemporary
visitor consumption. The authors are interested in the shifting power balance
between stakeholders in today’s tourism enterprises. With a focus on overlapping,
and often layered, activities at Cockatoo Island (Sydney, New South Wales)
and the Port Arthur Historic Sites (Tasmania), the chapter analyses management
and visitor responses to cultural tourism programs as a way of revealing the
8 Susan Carson
nuances of visitor demands (including resident communities), and considers the
challenges faced in managing historic locations that are also premier tourist
attractions.
In their study of the 2004 Olympics, Evangelia Kasimati and Nikolaos
Vagionis (Chapter 9) provide an account of the infrastructure gains in Greece
that resulted from the Games, but also offer a critique of the role of the HOP
(Hellenic Olympic Properties) for failing to make the most of the infrastructure
that was built for the 2004 Games. Like many Olympic cities, Athens suffered
from a top-down development approach that provided a much-needed transport
system but failed to deliver sustainable sites for recreation, commerce and
culture. In this context, the authors argue that there has been little extended
cultural benefit for Greek society, and their assessment indicates the positive
and negative effects of a ‘top-down’ management model for tourism.
Mark Pennings in Chapter 10 provides an alternative approach to cultural
tourism development in his examination of a ‘ground-up’ model of museum
development in his study of David Walsh’s Museum of Old and New Art
(MONA) in Tasmania, Australia. This locally inspired institution is now glob-
ally renowned. Pennings situates his study in the global context of art-museum
led experiencescapes, such as Abu Dhabi’s Saadiyat Island and West Kowloon’s
M+ that integrate art museums into national agendas for capturing a share of
the global tourist market. Whereas global projects are often engineered via
top-down governmental processes MONA is an eccentric addition to this
process as it was inspired by the vision and funding of an individual, David
Walsh. In this approach the high art mantel gives way in the face of the
democratization of the museum experience. MONA appears to respect the
diverse and individuated needs of its audience, and allows more freedom and
agency in the way people want to perform their experiences. However, despite
the inclusion of community and a privileging of personal ‘performativity’
Walsh continues to search for novel ideas that will mix interdisciplinary and
international content in his museum structure. For example, MONA’s latest
exhibition, ‘On the origin of art’ described as “wunderkammer-esque experi-
ences” (Do Campo, 2016, p. 1) will, according to Walsh, with characteristic
tongue-in-cheek overstatement, “out-epic Ben-Hur and have more pathos
than the crucifixion” (Crawley, 2016).

References
Aitchison, W. (2016) The emancipated tourist. In: Inheriting the city: Advancing
understandings of urban heritage conference. Taipei, Taiwan. Ironbridge International
Institute for Cultural Heritage, University of Birmingham. 2 April.
Crawley, J. (2016). On the Origin of Art exhibition is bigger than Ben-Hur, says
MONA owner David Walsh. Herald Sun, [online]. Available at: www.news.com.au/
national/tasmania/on-the-origin-of-art-exhibition-is-bigger-than-benhur-says-mona-
owner-david-walsh/news-story/9dcaab0982dae2044c697dcb8ccb822f [Accessed 10
Nov 2016].
 Introduction 9
Do Campo, F. (2016). On the origin of art. Art Almanac, [online]. 31 October. Available
at: www.art-almanac.com.au/on-the-origin-of-art/ [Accessed 10 Nov 2016].
Hannam, K. (2006). Tourism and development III: Performances, performativities and
mobilities. Progress in Development Studies, 6(3), pp. 243–249. DOI: doi:10.1191/
1464993406ps141pr.
MacCannell, D. (2008). Why it never really was about authenticity. Society, 45, pp. 334.
DOI: doi:10.1007/s12115-008-9110-8.
Munar, A.M. and Ooi, C.-S. (2012). The truth of the crowds: Social media and the
heritage experience. In: Smith, L. and Watson, S., eds. The cultural moment in
tourism. London: Routledge, pp. 255–273.
Richards, G. (2011). Creativity and tourism: The state of the art. Annals of Tourism
Research, 38(4), pp. 1225–1253.
Winters, T. (2016). Heritage diplomacy along the One Belt One Road. The Newsletter,
74, pp. 8–10.
This page intentionally left blank
Part I
Cooperation, exchange
negotiation
The shared needs of Indigenous
communities and cultural tourists
This page intentionally left blank
1 ‘Temporary belonging’
Indigenous cultural tourism and
community art centres
Sally Butler

Introduction
Indigenous art centres located in remote communities in Australia are increasingly
engaging in cultural tourism initiatives to diversify their income streams and
advance the community’s economic and cultural sustainability (Jones, Booth
and Acker, 2016; Australian Government, 2016). This art centre momentum
goes against the grain of a perceived lack of interest in Indigenous cultural
tourism more generally. Early research into Indigenous cultural tourism in
Australia found that attractions based on Indigenous culture ranked low
relative to other activities (Ryan and Huyton, 2002). Surveys reflected that
Indigenous cultural tourism appealed to a minority socio-demographic band of
tourists. Furthermore, initiatives that promote Australian Indigenous culture as
a tourism product “question their effectiveness in generating desired returns to
Aboriginal communities” (Ryan and Huyton, p. 631). The data suggests a key
problem pertains to tourist perceptions that they “see little of what is a
developing Aboriginal cultural revival” (Ryan and Huyton, p. 631). ‘Show-
case’ cultural tourism is clearly not the future, but more participatory models
of community-embedded cultural tourism appear to have the potential to
counter this problem.
A great deal of current scholarship surrounds debates regarding the benefits
of Indigenous communities engaging in the tourism enterprise (Bunten, 2008;
Butler and Hinch, 2007; Jones, Booth and Acker, 2016; Ryan and Aicken,
2005; Zeppel, 2001). Even more scholarship engages with questions over what
constitutes an authentic tourist experience (Gmeich, 2004; MacLeod, 2006;
Skinner and Theodossopoulos, 2011). Cultural tourism sits firmly at the
intersection of these debates because it involves relationships between people
and places; different perspectives of history and traditions; and appreciating
the complexities of different lifestyles (Smith and Robinson, 2006). This
chapter does not specifically address the tortured territory of defining an
authentic tourism experience, nor does it attempt to weigh up the benefits and
disadvantages of immersive cultural tourism for Indigenous communities.
Instead it speculates on the idea of a tourism experience of ‘temporary
belonging’ to provide some insight into the encounter between communities
14 Sally Butler
and visitors in the context of participatory indigenous cultural tourism. It takes
an ‘in-between’ approach to a cross-cultural sense of community belonging in
the context of tourism.
I have adapted this concept of ‘temporary belonging’ regarding communities
from ongoing tourism discourse pertaining to tourists’ emotional attachment to
place (Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, 1998; Coleman and Crang, 2002b; Chambers,
2010). Indigenous communities represent a special case study of place in the
tourism context because their very being is intrinsically related to place.
Indigenous communities are people of a specific locality – they are the people
of places (Butler and Hinch, 2007). The very word ‘Indigenous’ means
belonging to a place. So there is an apparent corollary between tourists’
emotional attachment to place and their emotional attachment to Indigenous
communities. I want to explore this somewhat elusive emotional link through
a tourism experience of what I call ‘temporary belonging’.
The temporary aspect of this concept concerns the fact that people act
differently in different contexts. They perform certain roles depending on the
kind of event or activity they are participating in. We act respectfully at funerals,
attentively at lectures, and are socially responsive at parties. The nature of the
event in no small way determines how we act. This is crucial to tourism studies,
of course, where the nature of the tourism event determines the tourism experi-
ence (Coleman and Crang, 2002b). The place of the tourism event is not a static
element but a performer in its own right. Coleman and Crang’s edited volume
Tourism: Between place and performance is particularly relevant here in terms of
how it approaches concepts of place in tourism as an interstitial dualistic ‘per-
formance’ of tourism. Places and visitors perform tourism in this context, and
this text particularly engages with ideas that defeat the oft-lamented dichotomy
of place ‘as either authentically experienced by locals or simulated and staged for
visiting consumers’ (Coleman and Crang, 2002a, p. 4). People and place are
conflated within the terms ‘local’ and ‘visitor’, and thus place becomes animated
through the activities that occur between the people of its spaces. The book
attempts to hover around this local belonging and the tourism experience, and it
offers a reference point, or mindset, for the situation of temporary belonging.
The idea of performance helps observers appreciate that tourism is a parti-
cular context of the social condition where, as previously mentioned, people
‘act’ in a certain way. This does not mean that they are necessarily behaving
in a false or inauthentic manner, so much as responding to the conditions
offered by place-based tourism encounters. I would argue that the temporary
nature of our fundamental understanding of what cultural tourism is – a
temporary inhabitation, or a temporary time-travel – is a significant, if sub-
liminal, psychological aspect of tourists’ encounters with host communities.
Arguably the most successful cultural tourism experiences involve a sense that
one belongs to a host community, no matter how temporary. ‘Between’ is a
key term for Tourism: Between place and performance because the volume
advances a dualistic model where ‘cultures and belonging work in terms of
a/not-a, inside and outside categories’ (Coleman and Crang, 2002a, p. 5). This
 Belonging and Indigenous Australian tourism 15
refusal to categorize ‘performers’ as either inside or outside helps in under-
standing a concept of performed, or temporary, belonging. In this chapter I am
simply reconfiguring this performed oscillation between being inside and
outside place to that of indigenous communities, and arguing that it engenders
a tourism experience of ‘temporary belonging’.
Temporary belonging is perhaps intrinsic to the concept of tourism itself, but
it assumes greater significance in an age of global translocation (Smith and
Robinson, 2006; Burns and Novelli, 2006; Zakin, 2015; Burns and Novelli,
2008). Diaspora, displacement, and dislocation in contemporary global lifestyles
tend to diminish a sense of belonging to a community, or of being involved in a
community. Even if we ourselves remain within one community today, these
communities tend to change and move around us. We do not experience com-
munity belonging in similar ways to the more static global environment of the
past. Within this mindset the participatory cultural tourism experience poten-
tially offers a sense of community belonging that may be lacking at home. This
(latent) desire to belong flowers within the temporary inside/outside conditions
of the participatory cultural tourism experience.
Different kinds of tourism undoubtedly impact the condition of temporary
belonging. It is important to emphasize that the precise nature of the rela-
tionship between host communities and visitors is crucial in determining the
tourism experience. In this chapter I focus specifically on the growing trend of
Indigenous community art centres that offer participatory cultural tourism
initiatives. This aspect of the tourism industry is distinct to Indigenous cul-
tural tourism that operates guided cultural tours of traditional homelands or
culturally significant locations (Bunten, 2004; Aboriginal South Australia,
2016; Urban Indigenous, 2016). Whilst the latter are obviously participatory
in terms of involving tourists in walks and various cultural activities, they are
rarely embedded in communities for a period of time beyond one to three
days. The point of my argument is not to ascribe value to different degrees of
the immersive experience. Rather I aim to use the example of participatory
art and cultural tourism to examine how this effect of ‘temporary belonging’
helps in new thinking about the future of cultural tourism. The tourism con-
cept of temporary belonging also provides alternative models to the pre-
viously mentioned ‘authenticity’ debates surrounding cultural tourism.
The art centres discussed in this chapter offer more extended participatory
cultural experiences than other attempts to temporarily involve visitors in
community life. Before explaining the concept of Australian Indigenous art
centres and how they initiate participatory cultural tourism, we should
undertake a more detailed consideration of what temporary belonging might
mean in spaces shared by visitors and Australian Indigenous communities.

Temporary belonging in Indigenous cultural tourism

The condition of temporary belonging obviously refers to the tourist per-
spective as opposed to that of the host communities, however the concept of
16 Sally Butler
place, and belonging to a place as a stage for the performance of the tourism
encounter, intrinsically involves both perspectives. The ways in which these
cross-cultural perspectives of place interact, in Australia and elsewhere, is
very complex and difficult to articulate (McKenna, 2002). Coleman and
Crang argue that within relationships between hosts and visitors:

These multiple registers and framings may suggest we need to think not
simply of semiosis but also the poetics of how these are strung together
in the practices of visitors and performers – where neither side mono-
polises the right to define legitimate performances (Coleman and Crang,
2002a, p.15).

Coleman and Crang’s appeal to a poetics of place in the tourism encounter

reminds us that we are engaging with emotional, psychological, and thus elusive
concepts that often resist empirical understanding. We are instead dealing with
human sensibilities and sensitivities involving imagination, inspiration, motiva-
tion, reorientation, renewal, and pleasure. The authors argue that because the
tourism experience place is as much about the local people as it is about the
natural environment, it is perhaps best thought of through a poetics rather than
rational approach. Rational approaches to emotional attachments often seem to
dehydrate life’s luscious textures, so to speak.
Rational understanding is also challenged by temporary belonging’s obvious
paradox: belonging suggests a permanence that is in sharp contrast to the
temporary. Belonging itself is also an over-determined concept because it
inevitably involves political issues and debates related to sovereignty, citizenship,
nationalism and identity (Read, 2000). This is particularly the case with regards
to Indigenous populations around the world who have been disenfranchised
and disadvantaged by the political, social, and historical circumstances of
colonization (Read, 2000). But belonging is also a universal human condition
deriving from a sense of connection between various groups of human beings,
and between people and place. Belonging is such a complex and multi-
dimensional concept that it potentially overwhelms any effort to contextualize
it. This is felt keenly in Peter Read’s book titled Belonging – Australians, place
and aboriginal ownership. The book’s concluding statement in the Introduction
addresses the impossibility of defining different Australians’ sense of belong-
ing: “In truth, I have no idea how this book will end. I confess to being a
little apprehensive” (Read, 2000, p. 5). Read resorts repeatedly to cultural
expression – a poetics of belonging so to speak – to work through concepts of
belonging: art, poetry, film, and literature. He observes that Aboriginal art
has profoundly changed the way that many Australians understand their sense
of belonging:

Bernard Smith observed that, a hundred years ago, ‘To paint Australia
you had to be Australian … Unless you were born with “Australian” eyes
you could not hope to “see” the Australian landscape’. In the last
 Belonging and Indigenous Australian tourism 17
quarter-century many of us have substituted ‘Aboriginal’ for (Anglo-Celtic)
Australian (Read, 2000, p. 4).

This mindset of course returns us to the authentic/ inauthentic dichotomy articu-

lated in Tourism: Between place and performance, but it also demonstrates the
pivotal role played by Aboriginal art as expressing a significant consciousness of
belonging, and how art and other forms of cultural expression can prime visitors
to a mindset of belonging, or to participate in a mindset of temporary belonging.
Following Coleman and Crang’s appeal for a poetics of place in the tourism
experience we might consider the poetics of temporary belonging in the tourism
experience as expressed through cultural expression, rather than other types of
theoretical discourse. We are looking for a psychological or emotional in-
between-ness here that registers a global sense of alienation and an Indigen-
ous community sense of belonging. Instead of ontological theory as such, let
us consider two poems as a method of taking the measure of the in-between of
temporary belonging. We begin with the characterization of the visitor as part
of iconic alienated modernity (now globalism) in T.S. Eliot’s ‘The Hollow Men’
(2016, 1925). ‘The Hollow Men’ is a poem that is universally recognized as an
iconic expression of alienated modernity. Its imagery construes post-Industrial
life in terms of an isolated human experience that is rendered lifeless through
disconnection from the land and each other. The “dead land”, “cactus land”,
dwindle under the “twinkle of a fading star” (stanza 111). Humanity walks
alone and “Forms prayers to broken stone” (stanza 111). Globalization’s hyper-
modern diasporic mobility further reduces the sense of belonging and is argu-
ably the psychology that makes tourists flee towards temporary belonging. The
so-called authentic tourism experience is perhaps nothing more than a sense of
connectedness, even if the connection is inherently on borrowed time. Eliot’s is
an extreme condemnation of post-Industrial life, but the sense of not belonging
continues to resonate within advancing global mobilities.
Against the grain of this place of not belonging, we have a growing volume
of indigenous poetry that grounds itself not only in belonging, but with an
ontological identification with place. Twenty-first century indigenous poetry,
in particular, attends to its global contexts by attempting to articulate how
this belonging to place can be partially (and temporarily) shared with those
who care to listen and learn. The Australian Aboriginal poet, Nola Gregory,
creates the tenor of this shared belonging in a recent poem created for the
2016 National Aboriginal and Islander Day of Observance (called
NAIDOC). In this poem we can sense the tenor of ‘temporary belonging’ that
is potentially afforded to participatory cultural tourism initiatives:

‘Songlines’
Come with us on a journey
Through land and sea and time
Follow down our dreaming tracks
Listen carefully, look for signs.
18 Sally Butler
You will feel them in your spirit
As they weave into your soul
Songlines, our Ancestral story
Are alive and strong and bold.
They created for us the rivers
The trees and all their girth
Spreading out our storylines
As they walked upon the earth.
They are for us a legacy
Our connection to our land
They are seen through our existence
As we walk upon ochre and sand.
So listen very carefully now
As you walk upon our land
Let it seep into your spirit
As we take you by the hand.
We’ll lead you to our dreaming
And sing you songs of old
As through dance and art recorded
Our Ancestral story is told.
For 60,000 years it’s been
Our heart, our spirit, our song
Something for us to be proud of
It’s our existence, its where we belong.
We follow in the footsteps
Of our Ancestral beings
We follow along our Songlines
And our journey to our Dreaming
Gregory, 2016, www.creativespirits.info/
aboriginalculture/arts/songlines.

‘Songlines’ was written by Ms Nola Gregory a Yamaji woman who lives in

Geraldton, Western Australia, with her partner Grant Briggs and daughter
Rashaan Briggs.
Shared cultural encounters as in the subject of this poem are the very basis
of cultural tourism, and are often interpreted through an ontological perspective
where a concept of ‘being’ determines the encounter culture. But as I discuss
previously, this shared being is extremely difficult to understand. Scherrer
and Doohan (2013, pp. 158–70) consider attempts to understand this kind of
cultural exchange in the context of tourism in an article titled ‘ “It’s not about
believing”: Exploring the transformative potential of cultural acknowl-
edgement in an indigenous tourism context’. The authors arrive at a similar
 Belonging and Indigenous Australian tourism 19
mindset to the in-between inside and outside of the Tourism: Between place
and performance text, and argue for:

the possibility of tourism operating in a mutually satisfactory hybrid

space in which acknowledgement, tolerance and respect discharges the need
for understanding different ontologies that operate within that space but
provides the potential for learning (Scherrer and Doohan, 2013, p. 158).

Anke Tonnaer’s 2010 study of the concept of shared culture in Australian

Indigenous tourism modeled analysis along similar performative-based meth-
odologies to those used in this text, and claimed that ‘the tourist interaction
gives rise to an intercultural space that is manifested through certain perfor-
mative conventions that shape the meeting between tourists and Aborigines’
(Tonnaer, 2010, p. 21). This study further concludes that the value is not
about shared meaning so much as a shared performance or experience, “the
actual enactment in which self and other become and be defined through their
mutual entanglement” (Tonnaer, 2010, p. 21). I contend that this emphasis on
shared performance and becoming or being with a (temporary) specific context
of sharing, is precisely what is achieved as ‘temporary belonging’ in the partici-
patory cultural tourism in indigenous communities. But enough of theorizing
what ‘temporary belonging’ might mean – let us now turn to how it happens
in the Indigenous cultural tourism industry.

Remote art centres and Indigenous cultural tourism in Australia

Despite the diversity of Indigenous cultural tourism there are relatively few initia-
tives that offer a community-based immersive tourism experience that works
strategically against the showcase ‘tourism product’ mentioned previously. Parti-
cipatory Indigenous cultural tourism is still a fledgling industry, but my own
experience of engaging with existing and emerging initiatives over the past 15 years
indicates that there are already sound models for further development of Indigen-
ous tourism for both communities and visitor experiences. During this period I
have helped organize small groups of university students, art enthusiasts, and
international visitors, to participate in art and cultural tourism initiatives embed-
ded in remote Australian Indigenous communities. The nature and degree of par-
ticipation varies, but the key factor for determining a positive experience for both
hosts and visitors is directly related to how much the community art and cultural
centre, and through it the community members, control the tourism encounter.
As an art historian I am particularly interested in how participatory art
and culture workshops effectively operate as cultural tourism, but art is by no
means a discrete cultural activity for Australian Indigenous people. Art is
inscribed within an all-encompassing epistemological framework that Nola
Gregory describes in her poem through the concept of Songlines. Songlines
are an Aboriginal cultural metaphor for the connectedness of all things, and
the relationships between people and place (Rose, 1999). To participate in art
20 Sally Butler
making in an Aboriginal community, one must participate, and come to know,
the breadth of cultural activity. This includes participating in traditional
forms of harvesting art materials; hunting and food gathering; and performing
song, dance, and storytelling. Participants are given guided tours of community
homelands that often involve heritage-listed areas of pristine natural environment,
rock art sites, spiritually significant landmarks, flora, and fauna.
The nature of the participatory tourism activities is contingent to the specific
location of each community, and whether it has the means for organizing the
implementation and delivery of these activities. Indigenous communities in
Australia do not have the funds to run tourist information centres, but growing
numbers do have community art centres that act as a kind of community hub
(About Art Centres, 2016; Australian Government, 2016). In addition to
engaging with the established success of Australia’s Indigenous art market,
these art centres support artists and art production by providing studio spaces,
materials, and advice on art market requirements. The centres also manage the
sale of the art and are thus involved in cultural awareness campaigns that help
outsiders understand the cultural life that drives the art. Many of the centres
maintain their own art galleries and cultural museums (or what Aboriginal
people call ‘keeping places’) where both historical and contemporary cultural
items are on display for community members as well as visitors.
Modern Aboriginal art is an intrinsic part of a cultural revival, whether the
art is made from pre-contact materials such as ochre, wood, and bark, or
from introduced materials like acrylic paint on canvas. The medium is not the
message in this instance, so much as the desire to keep the Dreaming (stories
that pass on important knowledge, cultural values and belief systems) alive
after an era of assimilation attempted to extinguish it. The art movement of
modern Aboriginal art, as such, commenced in the Central Australian desert
in the early 1970s when the government policy of assimilation was overturned
for a new policy of self-determination (Johnson, 2010). Thereafter art become
a method for demonstrating rights to particular areas of land, differentiated
kinship identities, and for passing on knowledge to younger generations of the
Aboriginal population. Art centres actually predated the 1970s art movement as
such with Ernabella (in South Australia) being among the first to initiate an art
centre as early as 1948. These centres have blossomed to the extent that in
2004 the Australian government documented 94 Aboriginal art and craft
centres in Australia, across urban regional and remote areas. Today the figure is
estimated to be double that amount with most being owned by the Aboriginal
community or Aboriginal Land Council (Australian Government, 2016). Art
centres often play a pivotal role in small remote communities because they
provide one of the few opportunities for employment, cultural regeneration
and education, and also simply function as meeting places for communities.
Community art centres by definition are owned by Aboriginal communities,
and are largely not-for-profit organizations whose mandate is to promote
community employment, cultural sustainability, and a place for engaging with
visitors interested in learning more about the local cultures. They are thus the
 Belonging and Indigenous Australian tourism 21
prime site for implementing and controlling cultural tourism for the commu-
nity. Over the past decade almost all of the art centres I have visited have
expressed an explicit desire to diversify current income streams by offering
more formally structured cultural tourism initiatives. Community members
have expressed concerns about how to ‘perform’ cultural tourism in all of its
various guises (Scherrer and Doohan, 2013), but there are existing models that
have successfully serviced cultural tourism over many years. These initiatives
also help in understanding how a condition of ‘temporary belonging’ is
cultivated in the tourism experience.
Patrick Mung Mung, an internationally recognized artist and former Chair-
man of the Artists Council at Warmun, in north-western Australia, spoke of
the significance of art centres in 2000, and their intrinsic relationship to place:

the art centre is good to be a centre. It reminds the kids so they got to
learn from this. Then they got strong. Then they know the painting. But
the real thing. We should take them to the country
(Mung Mung, 2016).

In instances where tourists participate in community cultural practices, such

as art production, the community’s conceptual frameworks for seeing and
knowing their place in the world is shared temporarily with visitors who pay
for the privilege to listen and learn (Scherrer and Doohan, 2013).

Case study: Arnhemweavers

One of the most successful art and cultural tourism initiatives run by a remote
Aboriginal community ironically does not have a physical art centre as such.
But this lack of a physical site only demonstrates how an online presence can
support the infrastructure of community delivery of cultural tourism initia-
tives. Arnhemweavers (Arnhem Weavers, 2016) is the commercial name for
an art and cultural tourism initiative that has operated in the very remote
location of Mäpuru in Australia’s central northern region of Aboriginal-owned
land, called Arnhem Land. It has been running cultural workshops since 2003
and today continues to do so on an expanded scale. Arnhemweavers markets
some of the finest weaving and other art forms produced in the region, but
does so largely through a virtual gallery located on their website Arnhem-
weavers (2016). This website provides background information about the
community, the artists, and the artwork, and it is also the platform for promoting
their participatory cultural workshop initiatives.
In 2006 I organized a group of art history university students and art
enthusiasts to participate in one of these cultural workshops. This community-
embedded cultural workshop event remains my principal inspiration for a
participatory cultural tourism experience of temporary belonging.
Our cultural tourism experience began with an acute understanding of
what ‘remote’ means in terms of daily existence. We embarked on a two-day
22 Sally Butler
drive from Darwin to the Mäpuru community located 600 kilometres to the
east. The drive takes in some of the most beautiful parts of the region, from
dramatic gorges to lush swampland. Air transport to Mäpuru is expensive
and infrequent. Due to its wetland location, there is no road access at all
during the monsoonal summer season (called the Wet). The establishment of
Mäpuru occurred as part of the Homeland movement principally in the 1970s
when small communities of Aboriginal people returned to their traditional
homelands, and often in very remote locations (Arnhem Weavers, 2016). The
desire for cultural revival was one of the many imperatives driving this
Homeland movement.
The idea to commence a weaving workshop originated from a desire by the
Mäpuru community to re-establish self-esteem after several unsuccessful edu-
cation initiatives (Arnhem Weavers, 2016). They wanted to create a situation
where Yolngu (the local Aboriginal people) train outsiders. Workshops that
could be provided by highly skilled local weavers were also seen as a method
of promoting the market for fibre art. Financial return for woven art is poor
relative to other art forms because the former requires more time and technical
expertise relative to the time to create a painting for the art market. Staff from
Charles Darwin University, led by academic John Greatorex, assisted the
community in issuing notices of the workshops to every institution in Australia
involved in textile production, and the first workshop was held in 2003.
Annual workshops have ensued, and increased in 2016 to the point that three
different workshops are offered at different times of the dry season.
The remote location and alien wetland environment of Mäpuru can give
visitors a profound sense of alienation and vulnerability. Nothing is familiar
and one relies almost entirely on someone else knowing where one should be,
and how to behave. Mäpuru consists of less than 100 people so outsiders’
presence is extremely obvious. The community provides accommodation by
building traditional bark shelters raised from the ground, and visitors bring
their own sleeping and cooking equipment. This visitor accommodation is
located adjacent to a very large open-walled shelter that is the community’s
principal gathering place. Visitors are welcomed by community leaders and
elders on arrival and then left to settle in.
Hands-on learning commences the following morning when the group is
introduced to the first part of the weaving process, which is to obtain the raw
materials. This involves excursions into dense mangrove habitats and wood-
lands to collect intensely coloured dyes from the roots of trees, and pandanus
leaves for the weaving. Knowledge and practices are shared on these excur-
sions about bush food, bush medicine, traditional practices of environmental
sustainability, and an introduction to the spiritual understanding of how
ancestors created the land. Visitors are also alerted to crocodile habitats and
their capacity to cover a short distance in lightning-quick time. Our group
learnt how mud mussels are found by walking with bare feet on the fibrous
ground of the dense mangrove forests. Mussels situate themselves vertically in
the fibres, and their sharp tip pushes into feet walking on the fibrous terrain.
 Belonging and Indigenous Australian tourism 23
Feasts of smoked mud mussels occur on the excursions and are an intrinsic
part of the whole creative process.
Over the following week, the group continually works with the artists and
community members, and learns about carving techniques, spiritual story-
telling, and spiritual sites in country. Visitors also experiment with all kinds of
bush tucker (food). These experiences take on an extremely hands-on dimension
when collecting and harvesting resources for the weaving. Particularly subtle
pandanus leaves are selected from the top of trees that are sometimes several
metres in height. A long, hooked metal rod is used to pull a bunch of leaves
over so that they can be cut away. This is not easy – the leaves have razor-sharp
edges and are quite stiff and resistant to the harvesting process. Tree roots
used for dyes are located well below ground level, and have an almost intractable
connectedness to the earth. The point here is that the laborious nature of this
process, and the requirement of expert direction from community members,
creates a thoroughly absorbing context for learning about and relating to the
local people and place.
Advice to be on the alert for stinging green ant nests in pandanus trees,
crocodile slides on riverbanks that look like a ‘path’, and the possibility of
hostile water buffalo, help develop deep respect for local knowledge. While the
harvesting process might be arduous, for many visitors the weaving process
itself is pure magic. Sitting alongside master weavers, participants watch in
silence as techniques are demonstrated, or become involved in conversations
on topics that range from everything from ancestral legends to favourite rock
bands. This is the cultural tradition of ‘yarning’ – sitting down and telling
stories – that is shared in a new cross-cultural context. Some visitors master
various techniques, and others come to learn that they are intrinsically non-
weavers, but for most there is little importance in such technical achievement
or failure. This is because actual participation is the most important activity
in the workshop: from chopping the mangrove trees to stripping the pandanus
and collecting bush tucker. Some participants develop excellent skills in
weaving techniques, but the workshop is really about a much broader cultural
appreciation and an opportunity to learn about Aboriginal community life in
general.
Cultural workshops developed over the years at Arnhemweavers cater for
the variety of specialized groups interested in this experience. In 2016 two
workshops were organized by the Centre for Education and Research in
Environmental Strategies (CERES), which is a not-for-profit entity located in
Melbourne. They organized a women-only and a mixed-gender group where
women focus on weaving skills and men focus on bush survival skills. A
former CERES Global Coordinator described the workshops as providing
insight into an Aboriginal (Yolngu) sense of belonging: “These trips always
leave people with far more than baskets, bark paintings and didgeridoos …
the gentle people of Mäpuru open our western eyes to a glimmer of the
knowledge and wisdom of Yolngu culture” (Centre for Education and
Research in Environmental Strategies, 2016). A 2012 participant is quoted on
24 Sally Butler
this website as saying: “I didn’t just learn how to weave a basket in Mäpuru, I
took a brief glimpse at my universe differently” (Centre for Education and
Research in Environmental Strategies, 2016). This latter quote touches on the
concept of temporary belonging as “a brief glimpse at my universe” that
embodies the inside/outside sensation of being absorbed briefly into an
Aboriginal worldview, and participating in cultural practices that allow one to
see the natural and human environment differently.
A 2016 specialized group visit was instigated by the Nature Philosophy
organization, an interest group focused on nature awareness, deep ecology,
survival skills, and learning from indigenous communities (Nature Philosophy,
2016). CERES and Nature Philosophy have organized numerous workshops in
Mäpuru (Nature Philosophy since 2008). Other cultural tourism initiatives in
Mäpuru involve arts and crafts groups, universities, schools, and arts organi-
zations. Most of these workshops are open to the general public and are
advertised on the websites of Arnhemweavers and other relevant organizations.
Arnhemweavers also advertises on their website that they will organize group
workshops based on any of the following themes:

 Pandanus weaving, including pandanus collection, preparation, dyeing,

and weaving.
 String making (using Banyan and Brachychiton barks) for bags and nets.
 Bush medicines.
 Harvesting of fruits and fish.
 Preparation of cycad bread (requires two weeks).
 House and shelter construction.
 Living on country.
 Trekking, following pre-contact paths across country.

The range of immersion in participatory Indigenous cultural tourism

Mäpuru is a very small, remote community in a location that resists any
spontaneous tourist visits. There is no permanent tourist accommodation or
all-weather roads, and only a very expensive, infrequent air service. These
conditions alone allow Mäpuru to control their engagement with the tourism
industry. The community controls the accommodation, programming, group
size, and costs. This is an ideal model for Mäpuru, but there are a range of
immersive cultural tourism initiatives offered by other Indigenous art centres
whose participatory framework and tourism services relate to the diverse
conditions of location, community size, accommodation and access, and most
importantly, community attitudes towards tourism. The tourist experience of
temporary belonging differs in each of these cases.
For example, Bula’bula Arts is an art centre located in the Aboriginal
community of Ramingining, approximately 80 kilometres west of Mäpuru
(Bula’bula Arts, 2016). I was involved in organizing annual participatory art
and culture workshops hosted by Bula’bula from 2007 until 2014. The last of
 Belonging and Indigenous Australian tourism 25
these trips transformed into a University of Queensland Art History course
for student academic credit, but prior to this, groups involved a diversity of
people including tertiary students from across the arts and sciences, artists, art
enthusiasts, school teachers, and international visitors.
Ramingining is the community where the Cannes Film Festival Award-
winning production of Ten Canoes was based, and many of the cast was
involved in its art and culture activities. Cultural awareness events involved
bush and boat trips on and around the heritage-listed Arafura Swamp wet-
land, learning about bush food, spiritual understanding of the country, and a
great deal of other ‘incidental’ knowledge. Yolngu and visitors would share
the four-wheel drive vehicles with children who often clambered over everyone.
Hunting trips, fishing, eating water lily stems, and stalking (and being stalked by)
crocodiles, all featured in the high-end participatory activities. Similarly to
Arnhemweavers, the entire weaving process took place with gathering and pre-
paring materials, and learning to weave over several days. This was accompanied
by lessons in creating bark painting and wooden implements.
It is impossible to put into words the degree to which participants regard
the visit as a life-changing experience for a full spectrum of reasons, and how
much they felt ‘at home’ within a very short time. I believe that this temporary
belonging is achieved principally because of the generosity, good will, and
aspiring entrepreneurship of the hosts, and the participatory community-
embedded nature of the visit.
Bula’bula Arts have embarked on a more formal cultural tourism enterprise
over the past few years, and have secured and renovated a house (Mona
Lodge) specifically for visitor/tourism accommodation. In 2016 I organized a
trip to Australia’s central desert based on art and culture workshops, which
were hosted by the Ikuntji Artists art centre in the Haasts Bluff community.
On this occasion the trip was offered as a University of Queensland Art History
course for student academic credit, but the art centre regarded the visit as an
experiment for their broader cultural tourism aspirations. Ikuntji Artists ran a
very successful artists’ festival in 2014 where tourists could stay in the
(otherwise inaccessible) community over several days for a small fee and parti-
cipate in the festival. Activities included a broad range of art and cultural
events, and our more extended engagement with Ikuntji Artists built on the
community’s sense of success with this first cultural tourism initiative.
There are numerous Indigenous art centres and art communities across
Australia (Maruku Arts, 2016,; Merrepen Arts, 2014) that involve art and
cultural trips such as Mäpuru, Bula’bula Arts, and Ikuntji Artists, although
they are not as embedded in the communities to the same extent as the three
discussed above. From my own perspective, the experience of temporary
belonging that I have witnessed in visitors is very much contingent on the
degree to which artists and community members are involved, and the extent
and nature of visitor participation. ‘Community’ in this sense of visitor
experience is not a place but a state of mind that connects people and transforms
them, even if only for a temporary duration.
26 Sally Butler
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2 Saving Sagada
Patricia Maria Santiago

Introduction
Sagada is known to many travelers as a beautiful paradise nestled in the
mountains of the Cordillera in the northern part of the Philippines. It is home to
indigenous peoples known as Kankanaey one of the largest groups in the
northern region, and still practices pre-colonial cultural traditions and
rituals.1 This small town is also known for its rich natural resources with
forests full of towering pine trees and spectacular views of rice terraces inter-
spersed with hiking trails that lead to majestic falls and natural springs. More
active travellers can do spelunking (caving) to explore Sagada’s popular caves.
Unfortunately, all these activities are now threatened because of the sudden
influx of greater numbers of tourists in recent times.
For example, from 2007–2008 Sagada experienced a three-fold increase in
tourist numbers, and by 2014 (see Figure 2.1 and Figure 2.2) about 65,000 tourists
were taking the nine-hour land route to Sagada from Manila, and passing
through the winding roads and ravines of Halsema highway (one of the most
dangerous highways in the Philippines).2 Despite these challenges, many tourists
visit Sagada to experience its cool climate and the natural beauty of its environ-
ment. This increase in the flow of tourists has placed considerable pressure on the
resources and cohesion of the local Sagada community. This chapter examines,
from the perspective of a participant in community activities, the strategies that
this community is putting in place to recover some control over their economic
and cultural destiny, and also documents the challenges confronting a participa-
tory approach to tourism development. Here we also reflect on spirituality and
religious practices as important motivations in community activism, and their
contribution to the harmonizing of the secular and the sacred, which is of interest
to those secular tourists who express a desire for a spiritual experience.

Methodology
Definitions of the term ‘cultural tourism’ are diverse but in the context of
Sagada the statement that cultural tourism “has crystallized as a concept
related to those who travel in search of culture, in its most general sense”
30 Patricia Maria Santiago
(Richards and Smith, 2013, p. 1) seems appropriate. The landscape surrounding
Sagada is known for its caving and outdoor tourism, but this geographical
draw is enhanced by the area’s remoteness and its unique indigenous com-
munities. Tourists coming to Sagada are often unaware of the fragility of the
environment and the depth of community respect for local traditions. In this
context tourism managers are faced with balancing tourist demands with
community expectations, some of which are pro-development while others
wish to see tourist activity regulated. In order to develop beneficial ways for
the community to move forward so that there is a benefit from tourism without
losing identity, the concepts of the PIC Model assist in framing this discus-
sion. The PIC (Participatory, Incremental, Collaborative/Cooperative) Model,
developed by Dallen J. Timothy and Cevat Tosun (2003) is one in which
“participation in tourism planning, implementation and monitoring of tourism
plans, and collaboration among stakeholders are the focus of the discussion”
(Hung, Sirakaya-Turk & Ingram, 2011, p. 277). This model offers an insight
into the type of tourism processes that are faced by a community such as Sagada.
According to Hung et al. “the model suggests that community members’ parti-
cipation in tourism planning depends not only on power relationships but also
on personal factors” (2011, p.277). Based on his adapation of the processes out-
lined in the 2003 model, Dallen J. Timothy writes that in many instances of
heritage tourism disputation there has been “public opposition to policies and
practices deemed unfair or inequitable, favouring elites and government agencies
over lay people and local businesses” (2011, p.264). Timothy argues in favour of
participatory development in communities that have heritage sites that are
attracting greater numbers of tourists because “participatory development
recognizes that destination residents, business people, local government and
advocacy groups are all interdependent stakeholders, who must have a voice in
the development process” (2011, p. 264). In this framework, ‘true empowerment’
occurs when community members and other stakeholders initiate their own
goals, programs and projects (p. 265). The theorizing undertaken by tourism
researchers draws attention to the complexity of planning with multiple levels of
stakeholders in locations that have historic, heritage, cultural, and religious
importance for diverse community sectors who must work with increasing num-
bers of tourists who want to access the area, often for a wide range of purposes.

The roads to tourism in Sagada

In 2007, 11,496 tourists visited Sagada. Twelve months later the figure had
reached 31,456, which was almost triple the previous year’s number of visitors.3
This increase in tourist visits was enabled by the upgrade of the Halsema
highway in 2008, which made Sagada more accessible.4 This road improve-
ment reduced the traveling time from Manila to Sagada from 12–14 hours to
nine hours. Thereafter, tourist arrivals increased as more people used their
own vehicles, or joined group tours with travel agencies in buses. As more
people gained access to Sagada, its beauty became more widely known and the
 Saving Sagada 31
floodgates for budget package tours from local and national travel agencies
soon opened, which brought income that assisted Sagada’s local businesses to
profit from the area’s popularity. However, the profits that were gleaned from
this newly popular tourism destination were not evenly distributed. According
to an investigative study undertake by students from St. Scholastica’s College
in Manila only 27 percent of the total profits from tourism were going to a
small number of local tourism stakeholders in the community, while 73 percent
went to travel agencies operating from Manila or other places.5
Some local people, especially those who are not in the tourism sector, feel
that this transition to greater tourism has occurred too fast for their small
town. The great inflow of tourists has exceeded the capacity of the town to
adequately cater for them in relation to accommodation, food and other ser-
vices, yet the local government has not moved to regulate this situation. Of
course, Sagada is not alone in facing this type of challenge. For example,
some Greek islands and other Mediterranean islands are struggling to cope
with tourists, especially those subject to cruise ship tourism.

27%
Local Tourism Stakeholders
73% Travel agencies

Figure 2.1 Tourism benefit distribution

Ctsy. Sagada Tourist Information Center

64,970

36,510
31,456
24,822 24,031 25,900 25,103

11,475

2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014

Series 1 Column2 Column1

Figure 2.2 Tourist arrivals in Sagada

Ctsy. Sagada Tourist Information Center
32 Patricia Maria Santiago
Impact of tourism in the community
The package tour boom associated with tourism has offered some benefits to
Sagada, for there have been dramatic increases in tourism fee collections and
boosts to tourism-oriented businesses; notably guesthouses, restaurants, souvenir
shops, and guides. All of these sectors and operators have experienced significant
increases in sales and revenue. The gains in income however have been offset by
negative impacts presented by increased package tour traffic, some of which
threatens Sagada’s continued viability as a tourist destination. Among these
impacts are a very heavy traffic load exacerbated by the tendency of tour groups
to use vehicle transportation for all trips, including short trips between hotels
and restaurants. Many of the tour groups that ply the Baguio-Sagada-Banaue
route usually only stay a day or two, and their tourist vehicles cause considerable
congestion to Sagada’s limited infrastructure and narrow roads. These roads
require smooth traffic flow, which can only be maintained if on-street parking is
strictly controlled, and this is a problem for many businesses that do not have
their own parking spaces. Several roads leading to popular tourist spots have
also been widened to accommodate visitors in the peak season, but this work is
destroying the local community’s natural resources, largely through the illegal
logging of century-old pine trees in the mountain forests. The native forests are a
major draw for tourists to Sagada who are attracted to the clean cool air of the
pine trees that surround the walking trails, but they won’t be there much longer if
infrastructure continues to be built to accommodate the mass influx of tourists.
There are a number of other problems that have been caused by the increase of
tourist visits to Sagada. For example, there are heavy visitation rates to key activity
destinations such as: Lumiang Burial Cave, Sumaguing Cave, Mt. Kiltepan, and
Bomod-ok Falls. This crowding not only has a detrimental effect on visitor satis-
faction, but also compromises safety standards (particularly in the caves). In the
long term, it is also having a negative impact on the environment. Local
people are very concerned about the gradual destruction of their highly revered
natural resources that are also sacred sites for the community, especially in
relation to the Lumiang Burial Cave and Sumaguing Cave. These caves were
formed thousands of years ago and many visitors entering them are touching
the stone, smoking, and even urinating inside the caves. These activities pre-
sent a grave threat to the sites and require protection. According to Joseph
Rasalan, cave expert and ecosystem management specialist at the Biodiversity
Management Bureau, people need to take into consideration that caves,
unlike other areas that are open for tourism, are particularly sensitive habitats
and ecosystems, and often have unique species inhabiting them. Once a
person enters a cave, they are already changing the sensitive conditions of the
area. Indeed, one person’s footprint is enough to change the energy of a cave,
or the introduction of oil from one’s hands when touching the interior of
caves can ruin the natural formation of stalactites and stalagmites that have
thrived in these stable environments for hundreds, thousands, and millions
of years.6
 Saving Sagada 33
Some tourists are also insensitive or disrespectful towards local customs.
For example, in 2015, a visiting couple held a pre-nuptial pictorial inside the
Lumiang Cave. This greatly angered the locals, especially community elders.
Jaime Dugao, one of Sagada’s elders explained that the Lumiang Cave is not
just any cave, it is a burial cave that has sacred value for the local community.
Dugao hoped that visitors would treat the cave with appropriate respect once
they understood how sacred the cave is to the local community and the
important role it plays as a site where the spirits of the community’s dead
ancestors remain.7 Tourists can also make unreasonable demands on local
inhabitants. For example, it has been reported that locals are beset with ques-
tions like, “Where are the Igorots?” There is also the expectation that Igorots
(Indigenous) community members in tribal garb will be ready and willing to
pose for pictures on demand.8 There is a trend toward the dilution of local
culture, as tourists are crowding in on rituals, and sometimes attempting to join
them, or are taking intrusive photographs at close range. According to Ezra
Arinduque, a concerned local inhabitant who owns Sagada Weaving, Sagada’s
treasured culture and traditions are slowly changing due to tourism. ‘Cultural
shows’ and other forms of cultural commercialization are becoming more
common, but these violate long-standing community policies. It is valuable
for visitors to watch and to learn about how the community dances and play
gongs during rituals, but Arinduque believes there should be limits to the
influence tourists have on local customs. For example, the very presence of
outside spectators has an effect on the performance of solemn and age-old
rituals, which at times are now only being performed for tourist entertainment
in exchange for payment. Elders see this as a bastardization of their culture.9
In Sagada today, large parts of the natural landscape are changing due to
the construction of new tourist amenities. Sagada was once surrounded by
green fields, mountains, and towering trees, but the large number of tourist
arrivals in recent times is beginning to threaten the beauty of this environ-
ment. Philippines Mines and Geosciences Bureau studies show that there is
limestone under Sagada in an area known for its sinkholes. The heavy infra-
structure built on the surface area, including roads and accompanying struc-
tures, will undoubtedly trigger ground subsidence. Several sinkholes in Sagada
are located at the town center where most inns and businesses are con-
centrated, so continuing development may eventually threaten the safety of
local inhabitants. The town and surrounding areas are also part of an irre-
gular terrain, which requires high standards for building codes to protect the
safety of tourists and local citizens. These are not currently in place and this
lack of oversight means that many current dwellings might collapse if a strong
earthquake were to occur. This lack of an enforced building code is another
element that puts the safety of Sagada at risk. As Timothy argues, planning
may work best when it is approached “bit by bit to achieve more specific
goals and objectives” (Timothy, 2011, p. 266).
Other negative consequences of development include the distortion of local
labor markets, as many businesses have been forced to bring in non-Sagadan
34 Patricia Maria Santiago
workers to staff hotels and restaurants. There have also been reports of
increasing numbers of students dropping out of school to make quick money
guiding tourists, and many of these former students do not have proper
training or accreditation. As well, local artisans have lost interest in creating
souvenirs that evoke the artistic and cultural traditions of Sagada. Some
continue to produce traditional objects that can instruct people about local
customs, but many others are now selling more commercialized souvenir
products that come from towns and cities like Banaue and Baguio City. It is
rare to purchase hand-painted shirts or beautifully handcrafted traditional
baskets made by local villages. Instead, most products in souvenir shops are
mass produced, and are poorly made to keep prices low.
At the level of infrastructure, there is of course a generation of more waste
that Sagada has no facilities to manage. According to former Municipal
Councilor Eduardo Umaming, a substantial increase in the volume of waste
has accompanied the boom in Sagada’s tourism. He said that tourists have
introduced a different attitude to the environment by bringing commercial
goods, such as junk food wrappers and plastic bottles. Since there is no waste
disposal system in the community, innkeepers and hostel owners burn garbage.
The practice of burning plastic and other non-biodegradable materials however
has produced so much pollution that it has been banned due to the heavy
damage it has caused to the environment.10 Further detrimental environmental
impacts include water shortages, particularly during the summer season when
tourism flow peaks. Tourists use so much water that there is often scarce supply
for the daily needs of the locals, especially the terraces where water for fields of
planted rice and vegetables is in high demand. Sigried Bangyay Rogers has
claimed that during the summer season, when tourism is at its peak, tourists do
not think about how much water they are consuming, as long as there is water
flowing from the showers and faucets. Locals who suffer from tourists’ exces-
sive use of water have begun walking long distances to mountain springs to
fetch the water they need and carry it back to their homes.11
There is a perception among many locals that today’s package-guided
tourists do not care and know little about Sagada’s history, culture, and people.
At the same time, independent tourists, who respect local customs and culture
have been largely crowded out. Yet, when these tourists do visit they tend to
stay longer and spend more money than package tourists. They are also often
repeat visitors. These independent travelers, who have been visiting Sagada
since the 1970s, now tend to steer away from Sagada as crowding becomes
more serious and package tour agencies book rooms months in advance.

The culture bearers of Sagada

Long before Americans came to Sagada to establish the Episcopal Church,
the Indigenous Kankanaeys or Igorots possessed a very rich culture that was
upheld by the community and its elders. They carved the mountains to build
majestic rice terraces. They created beautiful weavings for textiles and baskets.
 Saving Sagada 35
Their music, played with gongs and bamboo, is some of the most beautiful in
Southeast Asia. They have many rituals that celebrate life cycles, and have
deeply embedded spiritual beliefs. They have also developed a unique system
of government called the Dap-ay.
The Dap-ay refers to a group of elders who serve as the governing body
in the community, and this pre-exists any modern-day form of government.
In the Dap-ay rest legislative and judicial powers. As a socio-political unit,
the Dap-ay gathers to settle disputes, resolve conflicts, issue laws, and direct
customary conduct that binds the community, as well as making other decisions
that involve and affect the general lives of the people. The Dap-ay served as
the primary teacher of moral principles to citizens prior to the arrival of
Christian missionaries. As a cultural center, the Dap-ay is also the seat of
rituals like the Begnas or the rice harvesting ritual. This ritual symbolizes
prosperity and is the cause for community celebration and merrymaking.
When American Christian missionaries arrived, they did not impose a new
religion. Instead, both Christian and Indigenous beliefs co-existed in the
community with much mutual respect, tolerance, and generosity. The com-
munity gave portions of land to the Church, and in return, the Americans
built schools, a hospital, and other facilities that provide social services to the
community.
The Dap-ay elders are not paid to perform their function for the com-
munity. They are chosen because they have acted with courage and wisdom,
and have gained the trust and respect of the community. The elders make
decisions on behalf of, and in response to, the needs of the whole community.
Their teachings have always been about what is best for the community
rather than the individual. Unfortunately, in recent times, some of the elders’
decisions have become corrupted by the system and operations of the
national government. A national government agenda caused conflict among
the elders and the community when they were forced to follow national and
local government laws. This new system therefore undermined the roles and
functions of the elders’ social system. The erosion of the Indigenous social
system attests to current challenges in the community. Leaders of the Dap-ay,
the local government, and even the church have lost the sense of being able to
work together for the good of the community. This is because the priority
agenda of leaders has generally focused on tourism that promotes the com-
modification of culture and profit-raising enterprises, rather than a program
that protects Sagada’s culture and preserves the values of the Indigenous
community.

The shift to cultural tourism

Package tourism has generated considerable problems and challenges for the
Sagada community. Sagada needs to re-establish some control over the present
and future circumstances of the community and its environment. One way to
achieve this might be to develop measures that can reduce visits from large
36 Patricia Maria Santiago
numbers of tourists and seek instead to attract visitors like independent and
cultural tourists. However, the question then becomes: who will be responsible
for steering the direction of the community towards a preferred form of
tourism? Will it be the local government, the elders and the community, or
the tourists themselves? In my opinion, it should be all of the above. This is
indeed the perfect time to work collaboratively to enhance sustainability, the
protection of the environment, and the preservation of Sagada’s culture. In
recent years, many members of the local community have failed in their
responsibility to actively protect their culture and land. Moreover, it can be
argued that any new form of government support or action is meaningless if
the community does not cooperate in enforcing the implementation of laws
and tourism policies that can assist them to take some control over their own
destinies. Tourists should be encouraged to choose operators who run tours
that will benefit Sagada’s community, in more ways than simple economic
efficiencies. The community also needs to ensure that their activities will
educate visitors to be responsible travelers.

Declaration as a heritage town

A local ordinance declaring Sagada as a heritage site would be an initiative
that could boost a sense of pride of place, and would encourage the com-
munity to acknowledge the value of the town’s heritage value. This in turn
would have an impact on visitors whose knowledge of Sagada would
be informed by the values of heritage sites; this could positively shift the
cultural awareness and sense of responsibility for tourists when visiting the
destination.
A heritage declaration can also be used as the basis for implementing
new policies to protect the cultural rights of Indigenous communities and
their heritage, including their natural environment. Regulating tourist capa-
city and identifying important archaeological and heritage zones will
improve the day-to-day lives of the people. Such decisions give priority
considerations to the safety, peace, and order of the community. The best
approach would involve a three-fold system of governance. Timothy outlines
the importance of “collaborative, or cooperative planning” (2011, p.267) as an
important approach to sustainable development (2011, p. 267). This includes
collaboration between government agencies, different levels of administra-
tion, public and private organizations, and between private sector services
such as heritage tours, as well as between political boundaries. The labeling
of such a range of different stake-holders shows that the ‘heritage’ or ‘cul-
tural’ product itself is only one aspect of a much larger logistical chain,
although tourists are attracted to the location because of the cultural and
physical environment.
Prior to the inception of greater tourism in Sagada there were three com-
munity sectors that managed affairs in the area: elders, the local government,
and the church. This tripartite system of decision-making fostered positive
 Saving Sagada 37
communal and participatory processes. Municipal Councilor Dave Gulian
observed that when the new local government leaders came to power in 2007,
they proposed local policies that served their own rather than the community’s
interests. In this instance, tourism was used as a tool to convince people about
the economic benefits of the so-called ‘development’ needs of the community,
but this included the building of infrastructure that encroached on heritage
sites; road widening that sacrificed century-old pine trees, and commercialized
eco-tours led by unprofessional, divisive guides (Santiago and Gulian, 2016).
In this instance, the lack of co-operation between administrative levels, together
with intra-political dissent, resulted in local disputations. A new group of
leaders were elected to office in July, 2016, and this presented an opportunity
to return to the tripartite system, which may bring back a stronger sense of
community. Indeed, the community has already begun to re-assert itself by
creating a Tourism Council composed of a local government Tourism Officer,
a representative from the guides associations, hostel and restaurant owners,
church vestry members, environmental groups, and a community elder. This
council will prepare a cultural tourism management plan to mitigate the
negative impacts of tourism in Sagada. The council however must ensure that
qualitative and quantitative cultural indicators are monitored periodically to
verify the shift from mass or packaged tour tourism to independent and cultural
tourism.

Cultural mapping
There are any number of initiatives the community can undertake to take
back and protect their culture. Locally based teachers and community leaders
can work together in documenting and re-assessing Sagada’s cultural assets.
They can then make information about local culture available to a wider
audience via digital media and other means to promote awareness and
appreciation of the natural and cultural heritage possessed by Sagada’s commu-
nity. It is clear that establishing a unique cultural profile provides an important
means to understand a sense of place and identity for local peoples. For the
most part, such profiles can substantiate and fortify existing knowledge as
well as announcing new information about a culture that can be promoted on
a global stage. Cultural information captures the uniqueness of a locale: its
colors and shapes, textures and contours, sounds, smell and taste, beliefs,
values, traditions, and a host of other tangible and intangible cultural treas-
ures. Culture profiles can also provide valuable information to local govern-
ments, civil society organizations, the private sector, academe and other
institutions. It is also evident that relevant and validated information is
important for development planning, program and project implementation,
monitoring and evaluation. Most importantly, culture profiles can be used as
the basis for crafting local culture and arts development plans, tourism master
plans, as well as providing inputs to Comprehensive Land Use Plans (CLUPs)
and Local Development Plans (Antonio, 2014).
38 Patricia Maria Santiago
Developing creative industries
The development of sustainable creative industries can provide an important
source of income while simultaneously improving the self-confidence of local
artisans. Souvenirs and other local crafts are cultural expressions that are an
excellent means by which to promote one’s culture. Local artists can be
encouraged to create and express their sense of spirituality through art works,
often via contemporary patterns and designs specific to their culture, or by
preserving the traditional crafts and styles of the community. Local creative
products evoke the distinctive artistic and cultural traditions of a community.
Therefore, a communication plan needs to be developed to clearly describe the
specific message the community wishes to send to target groups of tourists. The
type of message should be positive, and should cater to tourists who may
be willing to pay more for unique, high quality, and authentic products that
tell a story about a people’s culture and Sagada’s place as a heritage destina-
tion, rather than mass-produced, souvenir-objects that are not connected to
its traditions. The establishment of a well-crafted design and entrepreneurial
workshop would also be very useful and beneficial for local artisans, and
could provide more sustainable employment opportunities for the community.
Experts from various government institutions and organizations have already
begun to support these new endeavors. They are willing to share their expertise in
cultural research and destination management to help prepare the community to
move towards a more responsible and sustainable perspective in managing tour-
ism. The National Commission for Culture and the Arts has approved a project
grant to the local government for a workshop seminar to empower community
leaders about the value of Heritage Conservation. The International Council on
Monuments and Sites or ICOMOS Philippines has been providing consultations
and free workshops on establishing a Cultural Tourism Management Plan for
several tourism sectors in the community. Architectural Heritage Conservation
graduate students from the University of the Philippines College of Architecture
have undertaken studies for a possible conservation plan of the Mission Com-
pound of the Episcopal Church. Establishing solid partnerships in tourism
management will support the healthy development of the community’s cultural
tourism programs, and at the same time create a visibility platform for organi-
zations, institutions, and corporations to be involved in the advocacy.
In the 1970s, elders created a set of guidelines for visitors, which they con-
sidered to be the ‘ten commandments’ for visiting Sagada. These were posted on
the walls of hostels and homestays until the early 1990s, but were disregarded
when tourism numbers grew substantially. In 2015, I collaborated with Steve
Rogers, a long-time American resident of Sagada (and who is married to a
local person), to write a new set of guidelines for visitors. This was necessary
because of mass tourism’s ongoing adverse impacts on the community, especially
during holidays and long weekends. These guidelines were based on the earlier
1970s set written by the elders, and it is hoped that they will help alleviate the
current problems being experienced by the community.
 Saving Sagada 39

General guidelines for visitors to Sagada

1 Please respect the culture. Keep a distance from rituals or any sites
you are told are sacred. Do not touch or disturb coffins or burial sites.
Do not attempt to join or film any ritual without direct permission from
the presiding elders. Do not disturb mass in the church or shoot videos/
photos in or around the church during mass.
2 Please respect the people. Sagadans are not exhibits in a museum or
zoo. Ask permission before taking pictures or video of people, especially
elders. Please don’t ask us “where are the Igorots”. We are the Igorots.
We do dress in traditional clothing for special occasions, but please
don’t expect any of us to pose in traditional clothing for pictures,
because we don’t do that.
3 Please secure necessary permits. If you need to do field research,
interviews in the community, conduct pictorials, or film anyone and any
place in Sagada, please go to the Office of the Mayor and make sure
you secure a permit and pay any necessary fees. This permit will deter-
mine if your activity is allowed or not in the community. Guides are not
allowed to secure any permit for such activities.
4 Please manage your expectations. Sagada is a community, not a
museum. If you want to see the way we lived a century ago, there’s an
excellent museum in Bontoc; please visit it. Don’t think, or say, that we
have “lost our culture” because we no longer live in traditional houses or
dress daily in wanes and tapis. We are indigenous people and we are
deeply attached to our traditions and culture. We are also modern, well-
educated people who are comfortable in any living or professional
environment the world offers.
5 Please walk whenever possible. Walking is an essential part of the
Sagada experience. The air here is cool and clean; you won’t get all
sweaty. The views are spectacular, and you’ll enjoy them more on foot
than crammed into a metal box. Sagada is a small town and places are
close together. If you are going out to browse the shops, walk. If you are
going from a hotel to a restaurant, walk. If your hotel is outside the town,
drive to the edge of town and walk. If you’re strong enough to walk
through the caves, you’re strong enough to walk to the caves. Walk. It’s
good for you, you’ll see and enjoy more, and you’ll help reduce our
traffic problem.
6 Please conserve water. Sagada suffers from water shortages, espe-
cially during dry season and periods of peak tourist flow. This can lead
to diversion of water from our farms and rice terraces, where it is des-
perately needed, to support tourism. If you are going hiking or caving,
bathe after, not before. Please bathe quickly and with as little water as
you can.
7 Please manage your garbage. Littering and tossing garbage outdoors
is unacceptable and disgraceful: just don’t do it. Sagada has no municipal
40 Patricia Maria Santiago
waste disposal system; every household and business has to manage its
own waste output. Try to minimize the garbage you generate. As much as
possible, what comes here with you should leave with you.
8 Please be kind to the people in our kitchens. Our restaurants are
small kitchens that can only handle a few meals. When we say, we don’t
have food anymore, it means the stock we bought during the market day
have already run out. We don’t serve food frozen from weeks or months
ago. To get better service, order your food at least 3 or 4 hours before
your meal. That way, we have more time to prepare your food and serve
it as soon as you arrive in the restaurant.
9 Please use your vehicle responsibly. Our streets are narrow, and on-
street parking creates a serious traffic problem. Parking on the street is
prohibited by local ordinance. Please follow the law, even when others
don’t or if someone tells you it’s ok to park on the street. If you’re asked
to back up or pull to the side of the road to allow passage of a bus or
other oncoming vehicles, please cooperate. If you are parked in a way
that obstructs traffic, move. Do not load/unload in the middle of a road.
Pull to the side so that other vehicles can pass.
10 Please help us keep you safe. Sagada is a mountain town filled with
caves, cliffs, canyons, streams and forests. They are beautiful but people
can and do get hurt or lost. We do our best to keep you safe, but we
need your help. Guides are required in the caves for your safety, not for
our profit. Please hire accredited guides and respect the prescribed
guide to guest ratio. We do not allow children to guide, for their safety
and yours, so please do not hire children as guides. We strongly
recommend guides for hiking or exploring. If you choose to hike without
a guide, please be responsible and tell your guest house where you plan
to go and what time you plan to be back. Bring a mobile phone and
make note of emergency phone numbers. If you go missing we will look
for you, at any time of the day or night and in any weather. Knowing
where to start is a huge help. If you plan to sleep somewhere other than
your guest house, get in touch and let them know, because they will
report you missing and we will go out looking for you.
11 Please be modest. This is a small, conservative town, and we like it that
way. Please save the revealing clothing for the beach, and save the
displays of affection for your private space. We are not known for
nightlife: business in Sagada closes at 10PM. If you like to party all night
that’s fine, but you’ll have to do it somewhere else. There is no
commercial sex here, so please don’t waste your time looking for it.
12 Please give your share to help us preserve our environment. All
visitors (tourists, non-Sagada residents) must register at the Municipal
Tourist Information Center and pay Php35.00 for the Environmental Fee.
Your receipt will be checked upon entering caves and other tourist
areas.
 Saving Sagada 41
Conclusion
Cultural tourism has provided people all over the world with a better view
of different cultures, access to stories about unique people, art objects, and
landscapes that help define cultural identity. The people of Sagada hope
that in the future cultural tourists in the Philippines will help us create
more culturally sensitive approaches to local communities that safeguard
both tangible and intangible heritage. Looking at tangible heritage in the
context of the community will not only make us understand the function-
ality of things, but more so, its value in our everyday lives. Rituals, tradi-
tions, and artifacts must be viewed as part of a living heritage that
protects, preserves, and promotes the values of people and their ways
of life.
Mapping heritage to make conservation more tangible must be one of the
goals of communities that wish to manage cultural tourism. While the value
of tangible heritage is clearly manifested through conservation and restoration
efforts, intangible heritage involves different experiential processes, which are
often amenable to tangible forms such as recorded documentation and pub-
lications to preserve this type of heritage. This data can be used not just as a
knowledge base from which to develop tourism policies, but can also be
utilized as a library of heritage that can be passed on to ensuing generations.
The most important players in safeguarding cultural heritage are the leaders
of the community: its elders, local government officials, and church leaders.
These are the people who have great influence in changing local culture for
better or worse. Properly prepared and implemented, cultural tourism policies
provide responsible guidelines for tourists and serve as important tools to
preserve heritage. While we try to seek different ways of preserving heritage
through tourism, it is inevitable that some heritage will be lost or destroyed
through time. Natural calamities or unmanaged tourism however only
exacerbates the loss of heritage.
Creative industries can be an important source of alternative income for the
community, especially creative local inhabitants who have an association with
traditional arts. These creative arts provide the message or branding of how
local people want tourists to understand and appreciate the community’s
sense of place. It is important to recognize the human skill and talent required
to produce such art to ensure that tradition and heritage will continue. Saving
Sagada from the harsh realities of package tourism and bringing it in line
with the more manageable platform of cultural tourism can be a long process,
not just in relation to the demands of policy making and new management
approaches, but also in the task of building a greater sense of pride and love
for one’s culture. When these goals are achieved, local communities will
develop the confidence to own their decisions and be clear about setting
directions for future generations. The broad principles of cultural tourism are
therefore important for revitalizating values that enhance a sense of self and
place for Sagada.
42 Patricia Maria Santiago
Notes
1 The Kankanaey people are a Filipino Indigenous group from the Northern
Philippines. They are part of the collective group of Indigenous people known as
the Igorot people. (Wikipedia.org)
2 This major highway was built by American Engineer E.J. Halsema in the 1920s. It
is a 150 km stretch of road that connects Baguio City to Bontoc, Mountain
Province.
3 Data provided by the Sagada Tourist Information Center.
4 Strength and Experience of Bridging People and Progress, 2008 Department of
Public Works and Highways Annual Report, pp 9–10.
5 Sagad na ang Sagada: A Call for Responsible Tourism in Sagada, Mountain Province,
Video Documentary, Mariah Karen Fulgosino, April 27, 2016.
6 Interview with Joseph Rasalan, Sagad na ang Sagada: A Call for Responsible
Tourism in Sagada, Mountain Province, Video Documentary, Mariah Karen
Fulgosino, April 27, 2016.
7 Interview with Jaime Dugao, Sagad na ang Sagada: A Call for Responsible Tourism
in Sagada, Mountain Province, Video Documentary, Mariah Karen Fulgosino, April
27, 2016.
8 Ibid.
9 Interview with Ezra Arinduque, Sagad na ang Sagada: A Call for Responsible
Tourism in Sagada, Mountain Province, Video Documentary, Mariah Karen
Fulgosino, April 27, 2016.
10 Interview with Eduardo Umaming, Sagad na ang Sagada: A Call for Responsible
Tourism in Sagada, Mountain Province, Video Documentary, Mariah Karen
Fulgosino, April 27, 2016.
11 Interview with Sigried Bangyay Rogers, Sagad na ang Sagada: A Call for Respon-
sible Tourism in Sagada, Mountain Province, Video Documentary, Mariah Karen
Fulgosino, April 27, 2016.

References
Antonio, J.Jr. (2014). Handouts for the profiling and mapping of towns and cities in the
Philippines. Manila: National Commission for Culture and the Arts.
Department of Public Works and Highways. (2008). Strength and experience of bridging
people and progress. Department of Public Works and Highways Annual Report,
pp. 9–10.
Fulgosino, M.K. (2016). Sagadna ang Sagada: A call for responsible tourism in
Sagada, Mountain Province. Video documentary, [online]. Available at: www.you
tube.com/watch?v=exbS5g9pJjU [Accessed 27 Apr 2016].
Hung, K., Sirakaya-Turk, E. and Ingram, L.J. (2011). Testing the efficacy of an integrative
model for community participation. Journal of Travel Research, 50(3), pp. 276–288.
DOI:doi:10.1177/0047287510362781.
Richards, G. and Smith, M., eds. (2013). The Routledge handbook of cultural tourism.
Oxford: Taylor and Francis.
Santiago, P. and Gulian, D. (2016). Personal communication. Municipal Councilor of
Sagada,State of Tourism Management in Sagada, 8 Jun 2016. Log Cabin Restaurant,
Sagada, Mountain Province.
Timothy, D.J. (2011). Cultural heritage and tourism: An introduction. Bristol, UK:
Channel View Publications.
 Saving Sagada 43
Timothy, D.J. and Tosun, C. (2003). Appropriate planning for tourism in destination
communities: Participation, incremental growth and collaboration. In: Singh, S.,
Timothy, D.J. and Dowling, R.K., eds., Tourism in destination communities.
Cambridge, MA: CABI, pp. 181–204.
Wikipedia.org. Kanakanaey people. In: Wikipedia the Free Encyclopedia, [online].
Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kankanaey_people [Accessed 5 Feb 2016].
3 Native American communities and
community development
The case of Navajo Nation
Christine N. Buzinde, Vanessa Vandever
and Gyan Nyaupane

Introduction
Communities worldwide are constantly imagining unique, innovative, culturally
relevant, economically equitable, and environmentally safe community devel-
opment ideas (see Buzinde and Mair, 2016; Timothy, 2002; Richards and
Hall, 2003). Numerous community development success stories abound, but
so do the failures. Arguably, the best practices are often characterized by well-
thought-out processes that harness the collaborative power and expertise of
local leaders and organizations, as well as external agencies such as universities
to accomplish goals of import to the community. If well-organized, the colla-
borative dynamics that characterize coalitions comprised of various community
representatives and outside experts can foster empowerment for members of the
partnership and contribute to capacity building. It is however important to note
that bottom-up approaches to community development that are led by various
local experts are likely to yield more sustaining outcomes in comparison to top-
down approaches to development that have little or no local involvement
(Buzinde, Kalavar and Melubo, 2014; Mair, Reid and George, 2005).
Scholars have highlighted ways in which Indigenous knowledge augurs well
for development studies and environmental conservation (see Brokensha,
Warren and Werner, 1980; Brush and Stabinsky, 1996). The focus of this
research has generally been on the value and relevance of Indigenous knowledge
(see Semali and Kincheloe, 2002); the development approaches that can be
beneficial for Indigenous communities (see Briggs, 2008); and the creation of
awareness about Indigenous issues particularly within policy-related contexts
(see Lalonde, 1991). Tourism scholars have also contributed to this body of
literature by addressing host and/or guest related issues (see Butler and Hinch,
2007; Dyer, Aberdeen and Schuler, 2003; Johnston, 2000; Smith, 1996).
According to Agrawal (2002), this recent research on Indigenous knowledge
has been paralleled by the “valorization of allied social and conceptual forma-
tions such as community, locality, and subalternity” (Agrawal, 2002, p. 287).
Such developments have opened forums within which to learn from the
traditionally silenced voices of the margins, particularly those of Indigenous
groups (Spivak, 1988).
 Navajo Nation’s community development 45
Scholars have also noted that the dominant perception of Indigenous culture
during the colonial era fostered the dismissal of Indigenous knowledge by
classifying (aspects of) it as inferior, static, simple, and primitive (Nakata,
2002). This ideological perspective has been successfully countered by burgeoning
studies that showcase “the complexity and sophistication of [for instance] many
Indigenous natural resources management systems” (Warren, 1996, p. 83). In
fact, over the last few decades, scholars have indicated that there is a strong
relationship between successful sustainable development projects and Indigenous
knowledge (Warren, 1996). This finding has provided support for community
approaches, such as community-based participatory research (CBPR). Such
approaches regard Indigenous knowledge as “the basis for grassroots decision-
making” processes that involve local agencies in problem identification and
solution generation (Warren, 1996, p. 84). Furthermore, the solution generation
“is based on Indigenous creativity leading to experimentation and innovations
as well as the appraisal of knowledge and technologies introduced from other
societies” (Warren, 1996, p. 84).
Warren (1996) implies that there are collaborative partnerships where
members work together with the goal of addressing community concerns by
utilizing various knowledge bases. This micro-level analysis highlights devel-
opment that is driven by local agencies that examine and solve structural
problems that might prevent or thwart community well-being. Grassroots-
based initiatives are vital to the growth of any community, and the narratives
that characterize their journey offer invaluable lessons for other communities.
In fact, interest in Indigenous narratives have become widespread as is evi-
denced by the existence of ubiquitous databases that document Indigenous
knowledge, and much of this knowledge is recorded so that it might be shared
amongst communities worldwide (Agrawal, 2002).
This chapter draws on the example of Navajo Nation, a Native American
Indigenous group that is actively working on reversing decades of abject poverty
through collaborative planning processes that inform sustainable development
plans that make a positive and respectful contribution to tourism development.
This chapter also discusses the socio-political structural conditions that have
thwarted community development for many decades. This discussion is followed
by an account of local efforts to assemble a multi-agency coalition to assist in the
creation of a development plan that accounts for various concerns articulated by
residents. These are plans that seek to both protect and nurture Navajo com-
munities while simultaneously providing the foundations upon which successful
tourism endeavours can be built. The efforts undertaken by the coalition are
discussed within the conceptual framework of collaborative planning and the
allied concept CBPR, which has been utilized extensively within tourism
contexts (see Koster, Baccar and Lemelin, 2012; Stewart and Draper, 2009). The
aforementioned accounts are complemented with discussions on the nexus
between collaborative planning and community empowerment. Although the
Navajo project is still in its early stages, it is hoped that the processes outlined
will be useful to communities that may want to pursue a similar trajectory.
46 Buzinde, Vandever and Nyaupane
Navajo Nation
Located in the southwest part of the United States in the state of Arizona,
Navajo Nation is home to the majority of the Navajo tribe. Navajo Nation tribal
lands are situated in the “northeast quarter of the state of Arizona, and spill over
into New Mexico and Utah” (NNPRD, 2016). Navajo Nation is the largest
tribe in the United States with approximately 300,000 people living on or off
the reservation (Discover Navajo, 2016). A large portion of the 17 million acres
of Navajo Nation land is under the protection of the Navajo Nation Parks and
Recreation Department (NNPRD), and contains beautiful natural red rock
formations in the park’s repertoire of sites to visit (Jett, 2009). The (NNPRD),
much like similar agencies elsewhere, is tasked with protecting and managing
the natural landscape (NNPRD, 2016). Within Native American culture,
complex conceptualizations of nature are intertwined with cultural and spiritual
dimensions that explain the tangible and intangible aspects of the environment.
Accordingly, parks and recreation agencies in such contexts adopt a holistic
approach that accounts for the connections between natural, cultural, and
spiritual elements in the management, economic development, and creation
of tourism agendas for the parks system. This is not an easy task as the
spiritual aspects of Indigenous landscapes can either enhance or thwart park
agency management plans.
Navajo Nation land abuts the world-renowned Grand Canyon National
Park. A key distinction as one compares the two parklands is that the former
is inhabited whereas the latter is dedicated to preservation that does not value
the coexistence of humans within natural habitats. Navajo Nation is certainly
not unique in this aspect because Native peoples inhabit many parks and
protected areas around the globe. Poignantly, experiences of residing within
parks and protected areas are often coupled with experiences of struggles with
land ownership and protection of intangible sacred sites. Like most Indigen-
ous groups, the Navajos have a tumultuous history connected to their land. In
1864, the Navajos were forcibly removed and imprisoned in Bosque Redondo,
New Mexico for four years (Discover Navajo, 2016; National Public Radio,
2005):

8,500 men, women, and children were forced to leave their homes …
Along the way … Navajos died of starvation and exposure to the elements.
Navajos signed the historic U.S. Navajo Treaty of 1868 [that] allowed
[them] to return [home] (Crow Canyon Archeological Center, 2016).

The Navajos attribute their release and return to the land they currently
inhabit to the staunch spiritual belief that their requests for freedom were
answered (Emmett Kerley, Navajo Medicine man, personal communication).
A sustained level of commitment and responsibility to protect the land has
characterized the Navajo habitation since their release. However, in 1966, a
land dispute between the Navajos and the Hopi, a Native American tribe
 Navajo Nation’s community development 47
whose land is surrounded by Navajo land, resulted in a federal moratorium
on development in the northeast part of the reservation. This had a severe
and detrimental impact on communities in the locale for the moratorium
(referred to as the Bennett Freeze) prevented Navajo communities from pursuing
any development in their homesteads, even basic improvements like running
water or electricity were prohibited. This led to a mass migration of people to
other parts of the reservation and an exodus off the reservation, but a select
few community members remained and persevered despite all the hardships
caused by the federal moratorium.
In 2007, under President Obama’s administration, the US government
lifted the development restrictions on the area; however, the reservation still
exhibits extremely low quality of life. The American Community Survey (ACS)
found that 36.76 percent of the Navajo population residing on the Navajo
reservation lives below the poverty level. Within the former Bennett Freeze
area the rates are even higher, making the former Bennett Freeze Navajos
some of the world’s poorest citizens. According to the 2009–2010 Navajo
Nation Comprehensive Economic Development Strategy, the unemployment
rate for this area increased over a seven-year period from 42.16 percent in
2001 to 50.52 percent in 2007 (NNCEDS, 2010). The results have been
devastating as not only do most homes lack electricity and running water, but
the Navajo also have limited access to infrastructure, schools, and economic
activities (Phelps, 2010).
The parklands on the former Bennett Freeze area were open to visitors
during the moratorium, but only the most basic amenities were provided due
to the constraints faced by the community. A number of tourists drive
through Navajo Nation on their way to the Grand Canyon National Park,
but the absence of established tourism products on the reservation means that
the community has not been able to capitalize on this traffic, particularly in
the (economically) underdeveloped parts of the reservation. According to the
economic study conducted by C.B. Richard Ellis, Navajo Nation attracted
2.5 million visitors in 2002, but due to a scarcity of available hotel rooms,
most visitors went elsewhere to spend money on accommodation, food, and
shopping.
The lifting of the moratorium by President Obama’s administration is to be
celebrated, but it has led to some unforeseen circumstances. The community
is currently facing an imminent threat from outside investors who want to
impose development plans for tourism that exclude community involvement,
and would have a negative impact on the cultural and spiritual landscape
(Morales, 2014). Notably, most of the development plans proposed by outside
investors require spiritually, culturally, and environmentally sensitive space and
resources that are under the jurisdiction of the NNPRD. The NNPRD’s goal is
to preserve and protect the parklands for present and future generations, but it
lacks the legal authority to prohibit the development that is perceived to be
harmful to the natural, cultural, social, and spiritual fabric of the land. In
decades past, the NNPRD had little need for legally binding jurisdictions,
48 Buzinde, Vandever and Nyaupane
particularly in the former Bennett Freeze area. This was in part because the
community was united against outsiders, whose previous contact had caused the
community decades of social dislocation and abuse, and with the moratorium
there was no imminent threat to local resources as any kind of infrastructure
development was prohibited. With time, the traumatic history experienced by
the community has partially faded in the minds of some members of the current
generation. This has allowed them to envisage perhaps a new relationship with
outsiders as visiting tourists, which may provide opportunities for the local
community to share and educate tourists about Navajo spiritual beliefs that
are associated with the natural landscape for which they are the custodians.
However, as the community is still experiencing abject poverty and is vulner-
able to outside tourism investors who, lured by the lifting of the moratorium and
the pristine natural and relatively underdeveloped environment, are pledging
to end poverty in the area. These types of pressures have forced the NNPRD to
begin work on creating a long-term culturally and ecologically sensitive devel-
opment plan that is legally binding. The NNPRD refers to this development
blueprint as the general management plan (GMP).
Other historical pressures on the community include memories associated
with the impacts of decades of discriminatory federal policies (that is relocation,
allotment, assimilation, termination, etc.) and the forceful enrollment of native
children into Christian boarding schools, which stripped generations of tribal
communities of their culture. The Navajo community is thus looking for heal-
ing through cultural sovereignty and decolonization. The GMP coalition and
similar projects are enabling the Navajo community to harness, with alacrity
and pride, the Indigenous knowledge that many members of earlier genera-
tions depended on for survival and community well-being. Furthermore,
through the involvement of locals, the coalition aims to document the shared
Indigenous knowledge, which will assist in empowering and educating the
local community. The subsequent section presents a summary of how the
NNPRD is approaching plans to create the GMP. The project is in motion, so
even though the final outcomes are not yet available, the process is indicative of
the many ways in which Indigenous communities are acting to instigate the
change necessary to enhance long-term well-being on the reservation.

Collaborative planning
According to Gunn (1988) all planning related to tourism and economic
development has to include collaboration with a variety of related organiza-
tions in order to be successful. Collaboration between various private, public,
and/or non-profit organizations is a challenging (in part due to competing
ideologies) but necessary step for all planners (Jamal and Getz, 1995; Hall,
1999). Within tourism, parks, and recreation contexts, collaborations between
private and public organizations are increasingly prevalent (see Dredge, 2006;
Gill and Williams, 1994; Ritchie, 1993). Similarly, in the case of Navajo
Nation, a group of community leaders and community agencies assembled by
 Navajo Nation’s community development 49
the NNPRD came together to discuss the GMP and the ways in which the
natural and cultural landscape could be protected and preserved for future
generations. They also discussed how the natural assets of the community and
its land could be managed to draw revenue from tourists while at the same
time enabling those tourists to contribute to the continuing protection of the
land. The group of convened leaders did not want the GMP to mirror plans
created by other communities. Rather they wanted to develop a plan that drew
on local Indigenous knowledge; respected local cultural beliefs; protected
tangible and intangible cultural and natural community assets; incorporated
an Indigenously informed approach to sustainability; and included the active
involvement of locals. Armed with this philosophy the group leaders collabo-
rated with the local state university (Arizona State University – School of
Community Resources and Development) to secure a neutral player with
expertise that was complementary to that of the community leaders. This
collaboration represents an important multi-agency partnership that harnesses
a broad range of expertise to aid in the creation and implementation of
community initiatives (see Wolff, 1992).
Studies about community development indicate that there are three key
functions enacted by community partnerships: creative collaborative capacity,
building community capacity, and fostering change at the local level. Creative
collaborative capacity is fostered amongst members of the partnership through
a collaboratively devised project that aims to address a common goal (Foster-
Fishman, et al. 2001). In the case of the NNPRD, the goal is to create a
GMP that will act as the blueprint for development. Building community

Figure 3.1 GMP strategic planning meeting

Photo by Vanessa Vandever
50 Buzinde, Vandever and Nyaupane
capacity is accomplished through multi-agency partnerships, which strengthen
the community’s ability to pool resources to more effectively respond to social
needs (Fawcett et al., 1995). For instance, the GMP coalition comprises a variety
of government entities and non-profit organizations, including DinéHózhó, and
various departments under the Navajo Nation Department of Natural Resources
(NNDNR) (including the Historic Preservation Department, Fish and Wildlife
Department, and the Parks and Recreation Department).
All partners who comprise the coalition (that is, a local institution of
higher education and the various Navajo agencies) share resources (that is
staff, funds, space) to facilitate the progression of the initiative. Given their
geographical scope, which specifically delimits the focus on a local community,
community coalitions are better poised, in comparison to external (to the
community) agencies, to foster change at the local level (Fawcett et al., 1995;
Wolff, 2001). Members of multi-agency partnerships are often local residents
representing the various strata of the community as well as professional and
grassroots agencies. In the GMP coalition, NNPRD and NNDNR are profes-
sional agencies, whereas DinéHózhó, a low-profit, limited liability company –
L3C, is a grassroots agency. Members of the aforementioned agencies share a
local lived experience that informs their understanding of community issues
and this motivates them to contribute to the collective cause. These commu-
nity coalitions are useful because they allow members to share tasks, respon-
sibility, risks, expenses, and knowledge while jointly crafting community
initiatives (Gunn, 1988; Fawcett et al., 1995).

Community-based participatory research

In order for the goals of the coalition to be accomplished according to the
philosophical principles of the group, various research endeavors have to be
undertaken to inform the social, legal, cultural, environmental, and economic
dimensions of the GMP. Community-based participatory research (CBPR) is
relevant to collaborative planning because of the premise that all research
pivots on the relationship between research partners and collectively identified
objectives for social transformation (Minkler and Wallerstein, 2003). The
research endeavors that have and will continue to be undertaken by the GMP
coalition are fashioned on the principles of CBPR, which is defined as a:

collaborative approach to research, [that] equitably involves all partners

in the research process and recognizes the unique strengths that each
brings. CBPR begins with a research topic of importance to the commu-
nity with the aim of combining knowledge and action for social change
to improve community [well-being] (Minkler and Wallerstein, 2003, p. 4).

The GMP coalition needs to develop a legally binding development plan for
the vast land managed by the NNPRD in order to inform future economic
development; preservation/conservation efforts; and protect sacred sites and
 Navajo Nation’s community development 51
local homesteads. A well-crafted and legally binding GMP devised through a
process that involves local residents is perceived as a necessary tool to
enhance quality of life, particularly in the former Bennett Freeze part of the
reservation. The involvement of local residents in the creation of plans for
tourism and economic development can contribute to the enhancement of
various community-related dimensions, especially if locals with sufficient
expertise, power, and resources are recruited for the planning process (Mair
and Reid, 2007; Scheyvens, 2003; Taylor, 1995).
There are a number of features in CBPR that have to be respected by members
of any coalition. Israel et al. (2003) describe four key CBPR conceptions:

(a) genuine partnership means co-learning (academic and community

partners), (b) research efforts include capacity building (conducting the
research … [and] a commitment to training community members in
research), (c) findings and knowledge should benefit all partners, and (d)
CBPR involves long-term commitments to effectively reduce disparities
(Israel et al., 2003 as cited by Wallerstein and Duran, 2006, p. 312).

The collaboration with NNPRD entails sharing knowledge, and allowing for
co-learning to take place within a shared and safe space. The initial GMP
coalition meetings involved a lot of co-learning as well as several site visits or
reconnaissance trips (see Figure 3.2). First and foremost, members of the
coalition acquainted themselves with the charters of each partnering organi-
zation in order to understand points of convergence that could be capitalized
on. Other co-learning opportunities occurred during town hall meetings,
when key development issues were canvased and residents were informed
about the GMP coalition and its goals. A series of meetings were also held
with members of the coalition to devise a mission and vision for the GMP, as
well as to create an Indigenously informed definition of sustainability. A local
medicine man and DinéHózhó representative, Mr. Emmett Kerley (in colla-
boration with Vanessa Vandever, one of the authors of this chapter), cham-
pioned efforts towards this end, and he drew on cultural practices and local
language to devise what the team unanimously regarded as a culturally
appropriate and endogenously defined concept of sustainability. It is impor-
tant to note that an articulation of sustainability that draws on Indigenous
knowledge systems is an important process in decolonizing knowledge related
to conservation (Simpson, 2004). During this process, all members of the
coalition obtained new knowledge about aspects of the culture.
In many ways, the opportunities for knowledge exchange described
above contribute to capacity building. The concept of capacity building in the
NNPRD collaboration is encapsulated in the entire process of creating the
GMP. For instance, there are five key stages to the GMP and each entails
knowledge exchange between the NNPRD and various agencies. The four
stages include environmental, economic, social, legal, and cultural aspects.
Knowledge exchange at each stage will encourage the parties to broaden their
52 Buzinde, Vandever and Nyaupane

Figure 3.2 Co-learning through site visitation

Photo by Vanessa Vandever

respective areas of expertise as they collectively work on the GMP. Firstly, the
focus on the environmental aspects will involve collaboration between a team
comprised of Navajo Nation Natural Resources staff and NNPRD to obtain
information on the geological make-up, and to establish an inventory of the
plants and the wildlife within the region in question. Drawing on the data,
the team will create a GIS mapping system of the area, and will determine the
ecological carrying capacity of the land. A land use plan will also be created
to determine zoning for various purposes, including flight zone areas; road and
infrastructural development; trail development; protected areas; and tribal
sacred areas, to name a few. The group will also account for climate change
and address and implement a sustainable course of action.
Secondly, the focus on economic aspects will entail working with economists
to examine the financial impact of the parks system on the community. They
will seek to analyze and remedy any economic weaknesses, explore future
revenue opportunities, and document any threats (economic and otherwise)
that may affect the parks system. Thirdly, the social component will require
parks officials to examine different uses of the parks’ spaces and how the various
uses align with existing zoning regulations. There are uses of the parks that
will require zoning regulations, including ceremonial, agricultural, grazing,
revenue generation, residential, and park infrastructure. There will also be an
analysis of the function of existing zoning, and a needs-based assessment for
future zoning regulations. An assessment of the permit system used by
 Navajo Nation’s community development 53
NNPRD will be guided by best practices so that weaknesses can be rectified
and transformed into strengths. Additionally, the various concessionaires that
operate on parklands will be documented with the goal of aligning the spaces
within which they operate with existing or new zoning regulations.
Fourth is the crucial legal aspect that will grant the community the legal
authority to protect itself from outside threats, and will offer a legal blueprint
for any future development ideas. Existing policies and regulations will be
examined and updated, and criteria for allowing use or disuse of the land-
scape will be formulated. The long-term goal of this focus will be to ensure
that the GMP is legally binding and recognized on and off the reservation by
all national legal agencies. Equally important are designs for park protection
and enforcement, as well as the mapping of all zones (that is, places where
NNPRD will have full authority and places for co-management). All the
above inter-agency exchanges incorporate training of NNPRD staff for
capacity building purposes.
Last but not least, is the cultural dimension in which the goal is to document
the life stories, memories, personal histories, attitudes, and values of residents
residing in the former Bennett Freeze area. The process of collecting and
documenting narratives from community members about cultural and natural
resources will be undertaken via interviews and focus groups. The information
will be used to inform economic and social development decisions within the
framework of cultural mapping. Residents’ life stories will serve various purposes.
Understanding the cultural meanings residents associate with their natural
landscape will inform processes to zone the area in a culturally appropriate
manner. Residents’ narratives will help to identify tangible and intangible
sacred areas that should be protected; areas appropriate for foreign visitation
and tourism; areas for private residential use; and areas for environmental
conservation. Residents’ life stories will also enrich efforts to create a world
class Navajo Nation Parks system. With residents’ approval, some of the
documented narratives will be included in interpretive materials (signs, docent
narratives, fliers, and audio files for visitors) showcased in Navajo parks to
inform visitors about the land and local experiences related to resistance,
suffering, innovation, and triumph. Interpretive materials of this nature will
add a level of authenticity, which is generally valued by tourists, particularly
those who frequent Native American parks (see Budruk et al., 2008). Prior to
conducting interviews and focus groups, efforts will be undertaken to host
town hall meetings with the goal of creating community awareness about the
cultural mapping study as well as the larger GMP project.
The hope is that this activity will enable the community to become more
knowledgeable about the GMP, and enable them to be cognizant of their
collective responsibilities in contributing to its creation. In addition to town
hall meetings, a column will be written in the local newspaper, a promotional
piece will be featured on the local radio station, a link will be placed on the
NNPRD Facebook page, and posters will be strategically placed at various
locations on the reservation to raise further awareness. There is therefore a
54 Buzinde, Vandever and Nyaupane
level of capacity building that organically emerges from the collaborative
processes at the environmental, economic, social, legal, and cultural stages.
The findings and knowledge that emerge out of the process are of benefit to
the coalition because they apply directly to the objectives of the GMP, which
is to benefit the development process in the former Bennett Freeze area. One of
the biggest dangers on the Navajo reservation is that many projects are
initiated by outside investors with little or no involvement from locals, and are
later abandoned by the investors (Bidtah Becker, Director NNNRD, personal
correspondence). By contrast, the GMP coalition is led by Navajo agencies
that have a vested interest in creating a long-term commitment to a community
development plan that is sustainable, culturally appropriate, and economically
innovative. Hence, the coalition espouses the CBPR assumptions proposed by
Israel et al. (2003) to yield locally informed and use-inspired research direc-
tives that can be used in the creation of a sustainable development plan for
the NNPRD.

Empowerment and collaborative planning

As illustrated earlier in this chapter, the concept of community-based partici-
patory research (CBPR) is essential to discussions of empowerment and col-
laborative planning. This is because CBPR draws on community partnerships
to foster co-learning amongst members; build community capacity; create
mutually beneficial knowledge; and devise long-term plans that reduce dis-
parities within communities (Israel et al., 2003). All of these factors can cul-
tivate elements of empowerment (Laverack and Wallerstein, 2001).
Empowerment theory is in fact vital to discussions around community
coalitions that are aimed at enhancing well-being through community capacity
building. Empowerment theory explores the process of gaining influence over
the conditions that matter to people who share communities, experiences, and
concerns (Fawcett et al., 1995). According to Perkins and Zimmerman (1995),
at “the community level, empowerment refers to collective action to improve
the quality of life in a community and to the connections among community
organizations” (p. 571). In the context of tourism, community empowerment
allows for “a relatively equitable distribution of local benefits in terms of
revenues and employment” and results in “a relatively high degree of control
by local residents for administering tourism services” (Mitchell and Reid,
2001, p. 115).
Community empowerment can be regarded as a process or an outcome
(Laverack and Wallerstein, 2001; Perkins and Zimmerman, 1995). When
defined as an outcome, community empowerment is regarded as “an interplay
between individuals and community change with a long time-frame, at least
in terms of significant social and political change, typically taking seven years
or longer” (Laverack and Wallerstein, 2001, p. 181). In the context of the
Navajo GMP project one outcome is the implementation of policies at the
Navajo Nation level and/or the federal level that support the emergent
 Navajo Nation’s community development 55
development plan. When defined as a process, community empowerment is
viewed as a dynamic course in which some coalition members may experience
empowerment during the planning process (Rappaport, 1987). Furthermore,
members of the coalition:

gain power as a result of a change in control over decisions in the inter-

personal relationships that influence their lives … [they] achieve these
outcomes by seizing or gaining power through a process of identifying
problems, finding solutions to these problems and then implementing
actions to solve them (Laverack and Wallerstein, 2001, p. 182).

Drawing on theories of community health and community development,

Fawcett et al. (1995) developed a framework that explores the nexus between
empowerment theories and community coalitions. The framework entails five
concurrent steps, is non-linear, and enables the flexibility required to meet
complex challenges that communities and partnerships encounter. The various
dimensions entailed in the model are interconnected and are part of the same
dynamic. The framework is premised on the idea that members are motivated
to join a coalition in direct response to pressing community issues. Accord-
ingly, partnership endeavors undertaken on behalf of the community foster a
sense of empowerment. The exchange of knowledge from various partner-
ships also leads to skill development and capacity building which directly and
indirectly contributes to individual and community empowerment. However, to
ensure sustained empowerment throughout the planning process, the follow-
ing five dimensions, (developed by Fawcett et al. (1995)) need to be accounted
for in the coalition process, namely: collaborative planning, community action,
community change, community capacity, and outcomes, adaptation, renewal and
institutionalization.
Collaborative planning is one of the functions mentioned earlier in this
chapter that coalitions engage in to create plans focused on enhancing commu-
nity well-being. Much like the GMP partnership, members of the partnership
represent diverse segments of the population and are thus able to advocate for
changes needed by different constituents. Collaborative planning entails the
use of various assessment tools that aid in obtaining information about com-
munity concerns (Fawcett et al., 1995). In the case of the GMP partnership,
town hall meetings were held in various communities to discern what devel-
opment issues, tourism related and otherwise, were of concern to various
constituents. Expert panels were also hosted to gain insight at the manage-
ment level of development concerns. This information then informed the tasks
that the partnership decided to pursue. Some emergent issues were related to
vendors requiring more space and updated facilities; responses to trespassing
by tourists onto private areas; the need for a local museum and other ame-
nities to draw tourist dollars; and the need for locally managed development.
All of these issues are relevant to the GMP and its development plans. Efforts
were also undertaken to identify the mission and vision that governs the
56 Buzinde, Vandever and Nyaupane
group’s efforts, as well as identifying the resources needed to help bring the
project to fruition. Although not as yet empirically explored, one can say that
the opportunities for co-learning during the collaborative planning process
cultivated a sense of empowerment amongst members of the coalition.
Community action refers to the various activities engaged in by members of
the partnership in pursuit of the collectively defined goals identified by the
coalition (Fawcett et al., 1995). With regard to this dimension, the GMP
partnership will document all efforts and accomplishments brought about as
a result of the collaborative actions. This documentation will allow for the
identification of best practices that can be applied to other parts of the reser-
vation. One of the key community actions proposed by the GMP coalition is
the erection of interpretive signs strategically placed on trails within the park
to tell the story of the land according to local residents. It can be argued that
such a process will foster a sense of empowerment amongst locals because it
will demonstrate how their lived experiences are vital to the understanding of
the land. It also cultivates a sense of empowerment amongst members of the
research team who gain unique insights into the diverse narratives associated
with the land.
Community change refers to the outcomes generated by members of the
partnerships (Fawcett et al., 1995). Some desirable community changes that
will be welcomed by the GMP coalition after sharing the results of the project
with the community might include: increased local awareness of the park’s
boundaries, mission, and charter; increased visitation to the park by tourists;
increased commitment by locals to protecting the land; and, increased sub-
mission of competitive, culturally appropriate, and sustainability-influenced
development proposals. The coalition will have to monitor changes and where
they occurred, and whether they were a direct or indirect result of the actions
of the group (see Fawcett et al., 1995). Such findings, if favorable, are bound
to embolden members of the coalition an inspire them to continue working
on the collective goals.
Community capacity and outcomes focuses on the long-term and highlights
the community’s ability to realize its own goals (Fawcett et al., 1995). The
GMP coalition can address this dimension by evaluating whether actions
undertaken to enhance the community’s capacity to create a development
plan were effective. If the intended actions were not effective, an alternative
course of action needs to be identified and pursued. Recognition that community
issues are complex and that they require flexible and amendable plans will
allow the coalition to deal with any unfavorable outcomes that may arise. It
can be argued that working together through the successes and the failures
also adds an enabling facet to the collaborative process. The last dimension,
adaptation, renewal and institutionalization refers to the partnership’s ability
to redefine its goals in the wake of new community related concerns while
mediating negative effects (Fawcett et al., 1995). In the case of the GMP
partnership this will be realized by ascertaining whether the group was suc-
cessful in bringing the initiative to fruition. This also requires the group to
 Navajo Nation’s community development 57
disseminate information to the community relaying the results of the initia-
tive. The community will thus be able to see how its input is connected to the
actions and outcomes of the coalition, which will hopefully benefit the
community at large.
Hence, this framework will allow for the emergence of what Fawcett et al.
(1995) referred to as enabling circumstances resulting from collaborative
planning processes that aim to enhance community well-being.

Conclusion
Community development initiatives are important endeavors that can enhance
community well-being. To accomplish such goals requires a strategic task force
that can work through a collaborative agenda that addresses local issues,
involves local residents, and draws on shared resources through a multi-agency
coalition. Research is utilized to aid the multi-agency coalition in making
informed decisions. In the case study described in this chapter, research activities
were governed by a community-based participatory research (CBPR) approach
because its philosophical foundations resonate with the values of the coalition.
Furthermore, the collaborative process engaged in by the GMP coalition
provides enabling circumstances that encourage members to take ownership
of the process and to continue devising innovative, culturally appropriate,
locally informed, and sustainable approaches for community development.
The GMP coalition is still navigating the early stages of planning, but the
hope is that the plans collaboratively devised by the coalition will be infor-
mative for other communities that are contemplating similar tourism and
economic development-related trajectories.

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Part II
The cultural tourist, social media
and self-exploration
This page intentionally left blank
4 Investigating the role of virtual peer
support in Asian youth tourism
Hilary du Cros

Introduction
This current investigation grew out of an interest in how social media platforms,
such as travel forums and Facebook, influence the travel decision-making of
young independent travellers in Asia. It is part of a larger study where research
looks at how travel influences greater self-awareness and self-improvement and
how tourists can become more aware of these travel impacts. This chapter,
however, is principally concerned with how this knowledge is shared virtually,
and the nature of virtual peer support that enhances the experience of novice
travel for Asian youth tourists to Hong Kong. It will explore relevant theo-
retical and methodological avenues before outlining the study and its results
in regard to travel decision-making and virtual communities.

Literature review

Decision-making theory
A review of tourism decision-making theory is useful in order to shed light on
how tourists make decisions and what role peer virtual support is likely to
have in the process. At its most basic level, a decision is the selection of an action
from two or more alternatives. That presumes that two or more alternatives
must be available.
It is important for this study to situate decision-making theories in relation
to self-awareness and self-interest (sometimes even to the point of narcissism).
This is becoming increasingly vital for tourism studies as tourists are becoming
co-producers of some experiences (Sigala, Christou and Gretzel, 2012), particu-
larly as we are increasingly living in an experience economy (Pine and Gilmore,
1999). Tourism services are seen as high-risk purchases, because they are a type
of intangible experiential product (Kotler, Bowen and Makens, 2010), and they
cannot be evaluated before their consumption. Costs involved in consumption
and the perceived risk of dissatisfaction have meant that some tourists have
become more aware of their needs and invest in their capacity to co-produce
the experience they desire.
64 Hilary du Cros
Meanwhile, two models of likely decision-making behaviour for tourism
experiences are outlined here: Sirakaya and Woodside (2005) and Chen, Hsu
and Chou (2003). Both studies have been questioned in relation to their
efficacy for understanding peer virtual support in decision-making. The logical
seven-step process envisaged by Sirakaya and Woodside (2005) is based on
the presumption that a decision will be made in an orderly fashion, and is
mainly based on the cognitive aspects of personal psychological perspectives.
It avoids choice set-modeling used by some researchers because of its tendency
to become inflexible and monolithic once initial choice-sets have been pro-
cessed. Alternatively, Chen et al.’s (2003) work discovered four mutually
exclusive tourist market segments in relation to how decision-making was
undertaken:

 Pundit tourists – mostly free and independent travellers who are likely to
recommend their decisions to others and will use the Internet for future
trip planning
 Individualistic tourists, who are similar to pundits, except they do not use
the Internet for planning
 Negative/neutral recommenders, who do not offer a positive report of
their trip experiences (Internet or e-WOM)
 Those that have visited a ‘must see’ destination, but state they were
dissatisfied with the experience

The first and the third segments may have the most relevance to this study
given they are likely to be the highest users of the Internet as a medium of
communication. What also needs to be ascertained is whether additional
segments have developed since Chen et al.’s work in 2003, and what influence
more acknowledged forms of e-WOM (e-Word of Mouth) are having on
group decision-making and virtual peer support. The theories listed above
have tended to focus on an individual unaffected by interaction with other
individuals, before, during and after decisions. This is particularly problematic
for studies of youth tourism where decision-making is likely to have a greater
social context with both real world and virtual aspects.

e-WOM and virtual peer support studies

One of the earliest tourism studies that comprehensively examines inter-
personal influence and e-WOM is that by Litvin, Goldsmith and Pan (2006).
This provides a conceptual model including sources, mediating variables, and
motivations for contributing and seeking e-WOM. Litvin et al. (2006) define
e-WOM as “all informal communications directed at consumers through
Internet-based technology related to the usage or characteristics of particular
good and services, or their sellers” (p. 461). It has become an important issue
for digital marketers who are seeking more understanding of the new
dynamics of consumer-to-consumer (C2C) and business-to-consumer (B2C)
 Virtual peers in Asian youth tourism 65
practices (Kotler et al., 2010). Hence, the definition provided by Litvin et al.
includes communication between producers and consumers (B2C), as well as
those between consumers (C2C), as both integral parts of the e-WOM flow.
They also encouraged future researchers to measure the dynamics created by
e-WOM, and its implications for the cognitive, affective behaviour of tra-
vellers. When following this trend, this book chapter is principally concerned
with C2C.
Studies have also been carried out that demonstrate that tourists’ main
concerns are initially the functional and practical aspects of employing
e-WOM (e.g. De Bruyn and Lilien, 2008). That is, there is an interest in what
information e-consumers can access and how easily they can access it via the
Internet and websites, which is integral to how much e-WOM is utilized.
Researchers have also deeply analysed factors that influence travel decisions
and what were the most trusted e-WOM sources. Trust in other peer com-
munity members has been found to be a significant mediator for recipients of
e-WOM (Xiang and Gretzel, 2010; Yoo and Gretzel, 2010; Yeh and Choi,
2011). Leung et al. (2013) found that consumers generally used social media
during the research phase of their travel planning process; and trustworthiness
is a key aspect in forming their decisions when using information from social
media. The two main methodologies that have been used in the past for
understanding e-WOM are either quantitative (Sotiriadis and van Zyl, 2013;
Leung et al., 2013) or qualitative (Jimura, 2011; Martin and Woodside, 2011).
The main aim of Sotiriadis and van Zyl’s (2013) study was to investigate
the way users of one kind of social media (Twitter) employ e-WOM to make
decisions about what tourism services to purchase, as well as the factors
influencing the use of information retrieved from this social media (SM). The
study combined two challenging issues: (i) the need to explore tourism ser-
vices with a high degree of involvement for the purchase decision-making
process within a digital environment; and (ii) the increasing popularity and
expansion of Twitter indicating that it could be a form of SM that will provide
an ongoing influence.
Sotiriadis and van Zyl’s (2013) generated a series of hypotheses based on the
key findings of available tourism literature and applied a quantitative metho-
dology to test whether the hypotheses were valid or not. Their rationale was that
a quantitative research methodology would allow for greater accuracy of results,
and could summarize vast sources of information that assist in facilitating com-
parisons across categories and over time. The categories comprised: trust, mes-
sages’ attitude (positive/negative), participation, intention to use e-WOM in
decision-making, motivation, opportunity, ability, customer-to-customer know-
how exchange, overall consumer value, loyalty and interpersonal/person-group
connectivity. Findings once again confirmed that source reliability, expertise and
trust were key factors. Trust appeared to roughly correlate with how often a
person tweeted, though this required further testing for validation.
Hence, from a viral marketing perspective, Sotiriadis and van Zyl (2013)
judged that source reliability and source expertise and knowledge were critical
66 Hilary du Cros
factors. They acknowledged that there were some limitations to their study,
because it focused entirely on reader/recipient perspectives. Further research
was required to explore the narrator/sender perspective in terms of motivations
for engaging in review and recommendation activities, as well as the mediating
factors of perceived source reliability and source expertise/displayed knowl-
edge. Another problem for both kinds of study involve assessing the impact of
social media feedback loops. It has been an ongoing concern in the discipline
of public relations that the accuracy of study findings about social media
interactivity can be affected by feedback loops that may distort the usefulness
of information for later recipients (Smith, 2010; Xifra and Grau, 2010).
Despite these questions, Sotiriadis (2016) has further developed his quanti-
tative work on Twitter. His article argues that further studies of SM could
make a contribution to enabling new ways to enhance service experience for
tourists. According to the findings of the 2016 study, tourist experience and
innovation are important phenomena to take into consideration when tourism
businesses and destinations use Twitter as a channel of interactive commu-
nication and constructive dialogue with tourist consumers. The providers of
tourism services, however, need to adopt new approaches in the field of com-
munications; such as, developing a multi-channel approach to communica-
tions with customers; embracing rather than resisting the influence of SM;
and engaging customers in a mutually beneficial dialogue that builds awareness,
increases web traffic and attracts new potential customers.
Meanwhile, there is an alternative qualitative methodology that has been
deployed to study tourist interaction with SM. As Dennis, Merrilees and Jaya-
wardhena (2009) outlined in their key study, the significance of opportunities
for social interaction and provision of recreational motives in e-shopping can
be revealed by virtual ethnography (webnography). This line of study is also
known as ‘netnography’ (for example Kozinets, 2002; Martin and Woodside,
2011) and researches online blogs, social networking sites (for example,
Facebook) and e-word of mouth (e-WOM) at websites such as TripAdvisor.
In Asia, one of the first studies by Jimura (2011) to examine e-WOM adopted
netnography to explore guests’ expectations as developed by ryokan (small
Japanese inns) websites. It closely examined how e-WOM, and guests’ actual
experiences at a ryokan met their expectations.
Jimura (2011) confronted difficulties understanding the role of product
intangibility when conducting his research. He was concerned about how
comprehensive tourists’ views of a product were before purchase after using
information from various sources, such as the product’s website and e-WOM.
Apart from displaying photographs, videos and souvenirs from their vacations,
contributors to e-WOM also bring back memories, feelings and experiences.
All of the latter are intangible, at least until they are communicated in online
blogs, comments at social networking sites and/or tweets at Twitter.
The visual information that prospective guests of ryokan obtain before
purchase likely had a great impact on their buying and decision-making pro-
cesses. It also appeared that there was a risk that these impressions could be
 Virtual peers in Asian youth tourism 67
iterated through any number of feedback loops, before any of the ryokan
guests could have encountered them. Jimura employed netnography – as did
Martin and Woodside (2011) for a study of e-WOM for Tokyo hotels – to
assess a large amount of data within a limited time (to avoid too many feed-
back loops). This also allowed him to interpret the contexts for e-WOM more
clearly, which were available for a reasonable sample of ryokan guests.
Jimura (2011) found that global guests at the top three most popular
ryokan in Japan were extensively using e-WOM on e-travel agents’ websites,
and that this information was more influential on decision-making than pro-
motional information provided on websites by individual ryokan. Moreover,
the ryokan websites lost ground to the e-travel agents’ sites, because they
provided no space for their own guests’ e-WOM (Jimura 2011). In any event,
even if e-WOM is provided, e-consumers are more likely to trust each others’
views (C2C) on a seemingly independent website over that provided by a
hospitality business (B2C).

Cultural distance and youth travelling styles inside Asia

Research on the nature of independent travel in the region is at an early stage,
although the works of Ong (2005), Winter (2007) and Teo and Leong (2006)
have given birth to further enquiry; such as, studies on Chinese independent
youth tourists (Lim, 2009; Ong and du Cros, 2012; du Cros and Liu, 2013).
These later studies have uncovered the communal nature of decision-making;
intense use of Internet forums for socialization, and a stronger preference for
short over long trips than traditional backpackers. These research efforts have
coincided with increased scholarly interest in Chinese outbound tourism
(Arlt, 2006; Chan, 2009; Cheng, 2007; Arlt and Burns, 2013). In particular,
Arlt (2006) argues that Chinese outbound tourism in Europe shows that
China’s tourism industry has developed beyond its early heavily institutionalized
beginnings, and has arrived at a stage of increased diversification of tourism
motivations and practices. As such, this country’s industry has a prominent
role to play in regional Asian tourism.
Hong Kong is a city that has become a popular destination for tourists
from China and elsewhere in the region. In 2012, when this research was
largely undertaken, the city attracted 48,615,113 (representing an increase of
16 per cent over 2011). Of these arrivals, tourists who travelled to Hong Kong
from China comprised 34,911,395, which was 73 per cent of the total number
of arrivals (66 percent of this total arrived on independent visas, not as part
of a tour group). Tourists from within the region made up an additional
19 per cent. According to these figures less than 10 per cent arrived from
outside Asia. The key points of origin for Asian short-haul tourists to Hong
Kong are Taiwan, Japan, Singapore, South Korea, Malaysia, Philippines,
Indonesia and Thailand (in that order). The number of Asian visitors who
stayed overnight in 2012 was 579,244 or 63 per cent (an increase of 3 per cent
over 2011) (HKTB, 2016).
68 Hilary du Cros
Given the above scenario where massive numbers of short-haul regional
tourists are visiting Hong Kong, cultural distance was considered in the study
as possibly having some role to play in the choice of destination and the
responses of Asian youth tourists to the site once they had arrived. The
notion of cultural distance has appeared regularly in the literature in regard
to Western-centric studies of tourist-host relations, but rarely has the alter-
native been considered, probably under the erroneous assumption that it
would not be a major factor. Comparative studies of Asian and non-Asian
subjects illustrate that differences can be expected between these groups
(Heine, 2001; Ng, Lee and Soutar, 2007; Moufakkir, 2011).
Tourism academics have adopted a variety of approaches to cultural distance
in an attempt to understand more about the impact of contact between different
cultures during travel. Cultural distance (CD) is defined as the degree to
which the shared norms and values in one society differ from another society
(Hofstede 2001). Moufakkir (2011) married the Foucauldian ‘Tourist Gaze’
first popularized in tourism studies by Urry (2002) to the notion of cultural
distance. This brought to his study a more travel-orientated focus than that of
Heine (2001), and is more specific than the work of Hofstede (2001) and his
followers. In doing this, he wanted the gaze study to “go beyond the hows to
uncover the whys of attitudes and perceptions. In this sense, the host gaze
starts where perceptions’ surveys stop” (Moufakkir 2011, p.77). As such, studies
of the tourist gaze require more than speculative perceptions in order to move
beyond the conventional gaze that Urry (2002) originally theorized.
One such study investigated post-Mao gazes of Chinese budget youth
tourists to Macau (Ong and du Cros, 2012). Through attention to the virtual
ethnography of a leading Internet forum, it was discovered that the forum
members’ post-Mao gazes were appropriate for the postcolonial spaces of
Macau in a number of ways. The tourists (born and raised post-Mao) also
presented views in this context that both confirmed and contradicted their
pre-existing travel ideals when they reflected upon their experience of Macau’s
hybrid Portuguese/Asian landscape and community. The study also provided
a new perspective on a group of tourists that had been largely ignored in the
media and academic portrayals (Ong and du Cros, 2012).

Spontaneity and decision-making in Hong Kong

There have been expectations about the decision-making of Asian youth
where it is assumed that they respond in the same way to travel-related vari-
ables (time, budget, familiarity with destination) as non-Asian or non-youth
tourists. As a consequence, these tourists are often lumped together. For
instance, one study examined how much spontaneity is allowed for in a trip.
In relation to consuming the local culture of a city destination, McKercher,
Wong and Lau (2006) have identified three main groups of variables: time
budgets, personality and place knowledge in regard to how structured an
experience a visitor may seek from a destination. It is generally argued that
 Virtual peers in Asian youth tourism 69
for ‘time budgets’, backpackers (think Western-educated) have more time to
travel compared with conventional tourists who normally take shorter holidays.
It was also found that the common assumption that they also prefer
unstructured experiences was overturned when it was discovered that large
number of these ‘backpackers’ preferred to take day tours, as they only spent
a short time in the city. This would have been a good project to employ further
analysis of the sample to see what difference youth and origin/background
might have made to findings about spontaneity.

The culture of narcissism

Initially, common views about the culture of narcissism were derived from
Christopher Lasch in the 1980s, as well as politicized opinions dependent on
pre-social media discussions in the 1990s (Lasch, 1991). More recently, Scholz
(2008) has commented that the Web is empowering many social movements
in Western countries, and that social media is also extremely helpful in the
pursuit of individual self-interest. At the same time, it should not be forgotten
that, as Scholz argues, users are guests in the house of social media giants:

Standing on their shoulders, we are entering their rooms; we are banking

on the hospitality of their server farms, we are trusting that all the data
that we are sharing through our conversations and on our profiles are not
abused in scenarios of total control, barely imaginable today (Scholz
2008, n.p.).

Mascheroni (2007) has also posited that virtuality represents a site of media-
tion between relations and institutions. In the current capitalist system, social
relations as they are communicated in social media are reified to some extent,
and offer portals and possibilities for users to switch their emotions on and
off in a self-indulgent sense, depending on the nature of their desire for
interaction, or the conspicuous consumption of a particular experience in its
virtual form. Narcissism is likely to be a foundational element of conspicuous
consumption, because it is a form of deviant behaviour, which is often mani-
fested to repair damage to the ego. Therefore, narcissists do not always
understand the world as it is – narcissists see the world as they wish it to be.
This is the primary basis of narcissism (Lasch, 1991). Hence, it is possible to
see how an emerging culture of narcissism associated with some social media
experiences can play a role in virtual peer support and travel decision-making,
especially for the more escapist-minded research subjects who are following
and competing with each other in their consumption of travel experiences as
communicated in the digital realm.
Germann Molz (2012) and Germann Molz and Paris (2015) has long stu-
died the relationship between travel and social connection. Her current meth-
odology comprises a self-designed ‘mobile virtual ethnography’ that attempts
to adapt ethnographic techniques to the study of the mobile and virtual social
70 Hilary du Cros
phenomena called ‘flashpacking’. Her latest work also draws on social affor-
dance theory where the concepts of ‘assemblages’ and ‘affordances’ are outlined
in regard to several aspects of this new sociality: virtual mooring, following,
collaborating and (dis)connecting. Intriguingly, Germann Molz and Paris
(2015) discovered efforts amongst the non-Asian flashpacker sample to avoid
psychological manipulation by peers and others by managing how accessible
to their networks individuals were and to whom. It appears as if some indi-
viduals were resisting the teleology of technologically mediated togetherness.
She wondered whether future studies should be less about the technology and
more about the social desires and anxieties of being both mobile and con-
nected (especially given the darker side of SM hinted at by Scholz 2008). How
much anxiety Asian youth travellers have about the above is yet to be fully
investigated.
In the midst of Germann Molz and Paris’s (2015) investigation, however,
the culture of narcissism comes to the fore in SM activities such as ‘following’,
which include a sense of obligation to peers. For instance, if you visit some-
where first should others in your network automatically refer to your visit or
virtual comments from those who visit it afterwards, so as to enhance the self-
esteem of the first user? How effective or valuable are you as an opinion
leader amongst your chosen social network if this does or does not occur?
And what impacts does this have on perceptions of self-worth and social
status? These questions haunt Molz’s work, but unfortunately are not directly
addressed in relation to virtual peer support.

Methodology
The approach for understanding this topic involves using an interdisciplinary
focus and a multi-methods research methodology that has been piloted in the
most recent research by the author for the study of youth tourism and personal
growth in Asia. The methodology selected to study independent youth tourists
borrows from anthropology, cultural tourism, creative arts, Asian heritage,
geography, media studies, cultural studies and education. Asian youth tourists
were interviewed in Mandarin or English. English as a second language is
becoming more prevalent in an increasing number of Asian cities that contain
an emerging and mature middle-class population, which has disposable
income that can be spent on leisure travel and already possesses high standards
of education or aspires to them.
As stated, previous studies have been either quantitative or qualitative on
e-WOM and tourism decision-making. An innovative three-pronged multi-
method research approach however deploys both quantitative and qualitative
methods. The virtual ethnographic approach borrowed from anthropology
(see also Adams, 2015) is also appropriate to this research, because it can
bring the researchers closer to the individual consumption patterns and the
social, cultural and political context of non-Western communities than previous
approaches, such as structuralism (Saukko, 2003; Creswell, 2003; Crotty,
 Virtual peers in Asian youth tourism 71
2003). It can also utilize both qualitative and quantitative methods and
include a measure of empirical research of lived experience and decision-making
for those preparing for travel. It also takes into consideration educational back-
grounds, social and media influences and how these have shaped individual
social and cultural development. A study of chatrooms and blogs and
observed discussions of lived experiences in ‘lurker mode’ (Germann Molz
and Paris, 2015) was also employed over a long period, and was combined
with material from in-depth interviews and focus groups to supply qualitative
data. Quantitative data collected from a larger sample of 271 face-to-face
surveys provided additional evidence.

Virtual data collection and observation

Much has been written in the last ten years about the usefulness of tourism
forums and online diaries for travellers. Pan, MacLaurin and Crotts (2007),
for instance, have considered the usefulness and implications of travel blogs as
destination marketing tools. Other tourism researchers, in turn, have looked
to tourism blogs as research materials and spaces for understanding tourist
characteristics, motivations and preferences (Carson, 2008; Wenger, 2008),
tourists’ decision making (Litvin, Goldsmith and Pan, 2006) and the ways in
which destination images are framed (Pan, Maclaurin and Crotts, 2007).
Virtual ethnography in travel forums and web-blogs is meant to serve as a
less intrusive platform for understanding the nature of Asian youth tourists’
lived experiences. Internet forums are public domains so they are appropriate
sites to conduct ethical research. Furthermore, as current research on inde-
pendent Chinese tourists has shown, the Internet, through the development of
Web 2.0 that supports social media networking platforms, now provides
opportunities to form cybercommunities for these alternative travellers (Chan,
2009; Lim, 2009; Sparkes and Pan, 2009). In such forums it is hoped that
Asian youth tourists will reveal themselves anonymously in a relaxed way –
before, during and after travel.
This phenomenon led to the study of five cybercommunities (Douban.
com; Qyer.com; Wanzi.cc; Uuyoyo.com, Freegapper.com and Thorntree on
Lonelyplanet.com), as well as the individuals that contribute to them.
Research was conducted into these sites to determine how instructive a resource
they might be for understanding the nature of collectivity and spontaneity
underlying Asian youth tourist travel decisions. For instance, Douban.com is a
Chinese-language social media site that attracts mostly young Internet users
with interests in cultural sectors, such as, (intellectual or independent) books,
movies, independent music and travel. Except for major social media functions
that allow people to share online resources, the website also has sections that
allow users to participate in unique activities. These include, creating your
own video, music clip and book database. Contributors can also form and
join many groups based on users’ interests, and create and join events for the
same city. They can set up meetings while travelling; access an online radio
72 Hilary du Cros
service; read excerpts of cultural/lifestyle/IT/travel topics from diverse blogs;
and create their own cybercommunity that matches their interests.
Previous research has indicated that Chinese-speaking/ethnically dominated
chatrooms often exhibit very different characteristics to Anglo-American
ones, particularly in regard to policing shared community values (Ong and du
Cros, 2012). As such, this research is especially relevant to gauging youth
tourists’ sense of collective identity, and whether a pattern is as evident in
similar travel discourses in English-speaking chatrooms dominated by non-
Chinese speaking Asian participants.

In-depth interviews and focus groups

The study included 15 in-depth interview subjects (there were not the resources
for focus groups) and used a mixed approach to source subjects. Some were
interviewed at youth hostels, and others responded to an email request to travel
forum contributors who visited Hong Kong in 2012. The subjects were mostly
inexperienced and independent travellers, though a few more experienced ones
were included and there were questions asked about their early experiences.
The selection criteria for the group of interviewees was that they should be
Asian residents who are under 30 years old, have been largely educated in
Asia, and who have undertaken some form of independent travel to Hong
Kong (that is without the need of parental guidance or commercial tour
operators). The interviews were conducted in English or Chinese, as the cir-
cumstances required. Resources were not available to employ Asian languages
other than Chinese in the interviewing process. Eight males and seven females
were interviewed, and they were in paid work or were studying.

Short structured face-to-face surveys

A preliminary project indicated that filter questions were necessary to target
the right group that contained fully independent (of family and tour package)
youth tourists whose main growth and development occurred in Asia. A
sample of 150 subjects was tested with a preliminary questionnaire (a little
longer than ideal) in Chinese and English to see which questions received the
clearest responses.
The questionnaire was then revised and was aimed at elucidating and
grounding the initial findings from the in-depth interviews and the digital
ethnographic research. The study interviewed young Asian tourists to Hong
Kong. The survey applied the Likert scale and used a range of open-ended,
multiple choice questions to gather data about educational background, travel
decisions and lived experiences of creative arts, intangible heritage and regional
cultures. Initial analysis of the survey data was undertaken using Statistical
Package for the Social Sciences (SPSS) statistical program package for fre-
quencies, cross-tabs and means. Open-ended questions were analysed by using
a simple spreadsheet and thematic reduction analysis method.
 Virtual peers in Asian youth tourism 73
Types of decisions studied and results
The three main areas studied in relation to decision-making comprised: planning
ahead/during trip; collective/individual modes and information sources used.

Spontaneity: planning ahead/during trip

More detail on this theme was garnered from in-depth interviews rather than
semi-structured surveys. Respondent 7 from South Korea found posts from
the popular English chatroom ‘Thorntree’ stimulating, “I always like to read
people’s travel stories. It always inspires me as different people have different
experiences when they travel.” She also noted that these narratives prompted
her to try to explore Hong Kong more on her own after she arrived. However,
the greater sample responses in the semi-structured surveys showed concern
about leaving too much to chance in the pre-trip preparation (see Table 4.1).
A low level of spontaneity in trip planning was also evident in most of the
in-depth interviewees. For instance, for the trip undertaken by Respondent 4,
whose main purpose was relaxation, she did a lot of research through the
Internet and also contacted a friend in the city (who is a local culture expert)
for travelling tips. She travelled in a group with three friends, who came with
her from Fujian Province. They all went together to popular tourist attractions,
but for specific places only some of them were interested in, they went alone
or in pairs.
Even so, she felt a sense of disappointment because her travel companions’
frequent use of the MTR (Hong Kong’s fast and convenient subway transport)
meant that she missed the experience of walking around Hong Kong to absorb
its ambience. She observed, “I felt that my trip lacked a sense of surprise – as
in the concept of ‘Slow Travel’.” She is one of the few interviewees to directly
mention this kind of tourist experience. However, it is also present in the
Douban.com Chinese language chatroom group called ‘Slow Travel’ (started
in 2010). The introduction page to guide the theme of the thread, states:

(We should) become a temporary resident instead of a tourist. (We

should) give up the idea of ‘This is gonna be my only chance of trip in my
life’. (We should) think: ‘There are many opportunities for travel waiting
for me.’ Do not follow the traditional travel route, but live in a different
place (Douban.com, 2013).

Table 4.1 Use of information sources before and during the trip
Websites Family and Guidebooks Other Total
friends responses
Before 112 127 114 32 385
During 76 62 97 21 256
Source: Author
74 Hilary du Cros
The study found that there is some evidence of conflict in relation to views
amongst interviewees regarding the importance of travel and the need for
spontaneity and adventure. Respondent 11 from Taiwan was clear that he
wouldn’t be taking any more lengthy trips after the one to Hong Kong, because
of family and work obligations. However, it is likely that youth tourists visiting
a destination with a strong sense of purpose would have a different view about
how important slow travel is to depth of experience and sense of adventure.
For instance, Respondent 9 was visiting Hong Kong mostly for bicycling, and
was avid to see what the city and its country parks offered for a keen cyclist
given the destination is not known for its bike paths, unlike Taiwan (his home
country). Even so, this interviewee was able to gain a sense of personal challenge
by accessing places and experiences ‘off the beaten track’.
Respondent 12 (also from Taiwan) provided the interviewer with the sense that
he was very thoughtful about cultural issues and wanted to explore unique cultural
sites at destinations. He observed that his travel philosophy is about “authentic
travelling experience. It shapes my travel mode – more about making friends with
locals, visiting hidden spots rather than shopping district/tourist attractions”.
The more purposeful Respondent 6’s original plan was to stay in Hong
Kong for three days so as to watch the concert of a local stand-up comedian
Wong Tze-Wah. She liked the performance so much she extended her trip to
just within the visa limit for Chinese nationals. If she had stayed longer she
would, “walk around a lot and measure Hong Kong with my footsteps!” She
took the tram on Hong Kong Island a couple of times with an eventual desti-
nation in mind, but hopped on and off on the way. On one occasion, she
visited the North Point wet market (fruit, vegetables, cold meat and live
chickens) and enjoyed a spontaneous experience of local culture.

Collective/individual decision-making
In-depth interviews brought the most insight into modes ranging from highly
collective to highly independent, as described by respondents before and
during the trips. Some interviewees used chatrooms they were regular members
of to ask for comments on the feasibility of proposed itineraries. Others solicited
interest in gaining a travel companion or more by proposing to work together
on a travel itinerary. Also, the possibility for loose collectivity as a decision-
making mode was made possible through such chatroom discussions, even
when participants had never previously met face to face. This use of the
Internet for such collective decision-making was more prevalent in Chinese
chatrooms than English-speaking ones. For instance, Respondent 1 noted that
before arriving in Hong Kong:

My original plan was to travel by myself. Later, I posted threads on

Douban.com and found out several people who were also going to Hong
Kong. Most of the time, it was just four of us hanging out together. The
girl who came for shopping went back after shopping.
 Virtual peers in Asian youth tourism 75
Regarding what happened during the trip this respondent also observed:

The deal we made was: We share our own itinerary with others. If there
were things in common, we could go together. If some places one wanted
to go (and) could not match others, he/she could travel by himself/herself
to those places, and call others to meet up and move to the next stops
together, after he/she has finished visiting those places he/she wanted to
go.

In this way, Respondent 1’s travel companions could keep track of each other,
but still retained some flexibility to explore in advance of the group. However,
Respondent 15 uploaded an intensely detailed itinerary to one chatroom and
expected the kind of response a travel agent would make. Needless, to say this
approach was largely unsuccessful, as he had not visited the chatroom before
and had no history of helping others. This example reflects the common view
in the literature that trust is an important factor in social media relations.

Information sources used

All research subjects were asked about the types of information sources they
used before and during their trip to Hong Kong. Multiple sources were used
by most of those surveyed, and there was a strong response to the question
about pre-trip planning (see Table 4.1). Key information sources before the
trip included a combination of guidebooks, family and friends’ advice and
Internet websites (30 per cent Hong Kong-based; 70 per cent other). During
the trip, guidebooks and websites remained strong sources of information (see
Table 4.1). Therefore, personal sources such as friends and family and tradi-
tional guidebooks were clearly trusted and used by this group both before and
during their trip.
The in-depth interviews found that social media had a role to play in many
information sourcing and sharing experiences of subjects. For instance,
Respondent 9, a Taiwanese slow travel/bicycle enthusiast, found it useful in
this way:

You know Facebook: If you post a nice snapshot taken during a biking
trip, friends of your friends might see it and think this guy is cool. (Then)
people will try to bike together if things work out. I’ve met a lot of friends
in this biking circuit who share the similar value and vision. For example,
this time, my friend lent me some biking accessories and taught me a lot
of tips. (Respondent 9)

An examination of chatroom opinions on available apps and website infor-

mation found that youth tourists were more likely to copy local practices
(accessing local cultural and lifestyle websites) than seek advice from specific
Hong Kong tourism websites, such as the Hong Kong Tourism Board.
76 Hilary du Cros
Hopefully, local information availability has improved since the time Respon-
dent 3’s friend suffered an accident on Hong Kong’s outlying island Pui O and
had to use Weibo (mainland Chinese Twitter) to solicit rescue by helicopter.
In summary, most interviewees (semi-structured and in-depth) were not
accessing Internet information as freely during the trip as before, although it
is likely that many of these travellers use smartphones. There were a number
who were writing blogs as they went. Respondent 9 found that the evenings in
the hostel provided a good opportunity to write a trip blog and “contemplate
everything, not only random things but also important national issues”. The
hostel with free wifi was also where Respondent 10 caught up with friends
and family via WhatsApp and other means. It is likely that more hotspots
with free wifi for tourists would benefit this group.

Feedback loops evident in social media

While specific questions about feedback loops were not asked, there seems
to be some evidence that the virtual spaces that encourage these kinds of
phenomena are most likely to be found in travel forums than other forms of
social media. This is because people visit such websites specifically for travel
information and opinions. There may also be a sense of shared experience or
even history amongst members of forums who have repeatedly visited them to
discuss more than one trip.

Narcissism, trust and self-censorship

Scholz (2008) is ambivalent about the ‘freedom’ of social media given that it
is a technology that is part of a global marketplace that directly or indirectly
exploit users for financial gain. Academics that lurk in forums or analyse
social media may also be acting in an exploitative manner, and may face abuse,
and may be seen as ‘preying’ on young adults when studying them (who may
or may not be aware that they are exposed in this way). However, the Chinese
travel forums that were studied were based in the People’s Republic of China,
and therefore some forms of self-censorship or awareness that more than
fellow travellers could be viewing their comments led to some reluctance to be
absolutely open. Some were able to overcome such ambivalence to agree to be
interviewed by the author (self-interest or self-sacrifice?), however, it is advised
that the impact of government censorship and/or the commercially exploita-
tive nature of some platforms should be taken into account when designing
future studies of digital discourse and marketing.
Self-censorship in terms of showing more respect to living cultures visited is
unlikely to be found in conjunction with conspicuous consumption or narcis-
sistic impulses in the case of Hong Kong. There were no overt examples (like
those found elsewhere, particularly Myanmar) of respondents’ boasting to
others in travel forums of how they were able to get the better of local retai-
lers and hoteliers, despite being able to pay well in excess of what was asked.
 Virtual peers in Asian youth tourism 77
This kind of behaviour is more common in developing countries and is
creating much ill feeling there (du Cros, 2016).

Conclusion
The interviewees were all chosen with the view that they would not have an
intimate knowledge of local culture or language; that is, having lived in Hong
Kong or Southern China and possessing Cantonese speaking skills. This
would ensure some level of cultural distance even for ethnic Chinese from the
region. The research subjects were also looking for information on more than
just the best or cheapest hotels, flights and so on. They did not appear to be
competing with each other on the cost of their travel experiences, as is some-
times found in less developed destinations.
Novice or less experienced travellers were also a feature of the sample
interviewed. Accordingly, there was more reason for such a group to seek peer
support regarding travel decisions. All subjects were younger than 30 years
old and most had an understanding of the latest digital communication tech-
nology. Virtual peer support mostly occurred before the trip. However, this
might change as Hong Kong establishes free wifi spots in more tourist areas.
One of the limitations of this study was that it was still not entirely clear
from the face-to-face, semi-structured survey sample whether virtual peer
support was preferred over real-time support from friends, or a pre-existing
and superior knowledge of Hong Kong. Only Respondent 4 amongst the in-
depth interviewees, who travelled with a friend, was in this category. A few
others interviewed in depth also mentioned blogging and seeking information
during the trip. This is definitely an issue that requires greater clarification in
future studies of this kind. However, the results listed in Table 4.1 indicate
that there was more virtual information sought pre-trip than during the trip.
Free wifi/Internet access may have also been a factor in this result.
Despite these limitations, the methodology used in this study made it pos-
sible to discover that decision-making for Asian youth is largely semi-collec-
tive, as potential travellers needed to consult trusted information sources for
travel decisions. Again, these impressions could be explored with more spe-
cific research on virtual peer support by other researchers, particularly those
not primarily concerned with commercial gain in order for interviewees to
truly open up for research on this topic.

Acknowledgements
I would like to thank my virtual “Smart Mob” of Kathleen Adams, Max-
imiliano Korstanje, Takamitsu Jimura, Marios Sotiriadis and Wantanee Sun-
tikul for their invaluable comments on this study. The Hong Kong University
of Education provided an internal grant to undertake part of the work for this
study. Also, I would like to thank the University of New Brunswick, which
contributed institutional support.
78 Hilary du Cros
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5 Doing literary tourism – an
autoethnographic approach
Tim Middleton

This paper describes two instances of doing literary tourism, teasing out some
methodological reflections via an autoethnographic approach that explores
ways of performing acts of literary tourism. I begin with a concise account of
autoethnography as a valuable research tool in the study and practice of self-
guided literary tourism, and then move on to briefly discuss literary tourism
as an instance of cultural and heritage tourism. I then offer analysis of two
self-guided literary tourist journeys, drawing out implications for literary
tourist practice. I begin my analysis via a reading of Edward Thomas’s literary
tour of South West England as recounted in, In Pursuit of Spring, high-
lighting ways in which his study is something of a classic autoethnographic
account of doing literary tourism. I then offer some reflections of my own lit-
erary tourism activity whilst in pursuit of the Argyll locations of Iain Banks’s
novel, The crow road, in 2008. The essay draws out the context of literary and
heritage tourism activity in this region today and some of the lessons learned
in terms of the study and practice of literary tourism.

Methodology
Autoethnography is a methodology that has begun to have more prominence
in literary tourism studies (Grist, 2013, Brown, 2016). Coghlan and Filo
(2013) have highlighted its value in the wider field since it enables access to
the personal experience of tourists. Brown has argued that “it is also a highly
practicable method because the accessible nature of tourism as an activity lends
itself to autoethnography … using autoethnographic studies challenges a field
that is still dominated by positivist and postpositivist research” (Brown, 2016,
p. 138).
Autoethnography starts from an open acknowledgement of the contingent
nature of research practice. What often frustrates readers of autoethnography
is the apparent lack of critical distance between the author and subject –
when the evidence is one’s own experience how can something fleeting and
personal be the basis for a contribution to an academic field? Auto-
ethnography is, like other creative non-fiction, written from experience and as
such is contingent on a variety of factors, many of which mitigate any sense of
82 Tim Middleton
‘critical distance’ or ‘objectivity’ (Hemley, 2012). Autoethnography can be
criticised for being rooted in a kind of intellectual arrogance – begging the
question, what makes my views/experience any more or less interesting/valid/
insightful than yours? The short answer is – nothing: they are my experiences,
unique to me and who I am but, as Butler (1990) has suggested, who I perceive
myself to be informs what I do. As Adams et al. argue, an autoethnographic
approach provides researchers with ‘a method for articulating their personal
connections to – and their investment in – identities, experiences, relationships
and/ or cultures’ (Adams et al., 2015, pp. 15–16), and as Ellis et al remind us,
it is approach which rests on contingency because:

[M]emory is fallible, … it is impossible to recall or report on events in

language that exactly represents how those events were lived and felt; and
we recognize that people who have experienced the ‘same’ event often tell
different stories about what happened (Ellis et al., 2011, p. 7).

This doesn’t make it an exercise in self-promotion, or a case of ‘me, me, me’,

but it does require the writer to be open about who they are. I am a white,
British-educated, middle-aged, male professor of English and Cultural Studies.
I have written about, given papers, taught classes and examined PhDs on
diverse topics across the field of modern and contemporary British literature
and culture. As an educator, I have been trained to provide evidence for an
argument, to establish the ways in which my insights relate to and depend on
the work of others who have already written about the topic I am addressing.
I make these declarations in the spirit of autoethnographic disclosure since it
is “an approach to research and writing that seeks to describe and system-
atically analyze (graphy) personal experience (auto) in order to understand
cultural experience (ethno)” (Ellis, et al., 2011, p. 1).
For me, critical and cultural analysis has always started with my interest in
a writer or cultural phenomenon. As an educator, I understand things by
teaching them and writing about them: knowledge acquisition and develop-
ment for me is a dialogic process. As I came to study and teach about literary
locations, and then began to have a small input into tourism initiatives at a
regional level via work on an advisory group for the United Kingdom’s South
West Tourism agency, I carried over this sense that knowing and doing were
intimately connected. In developing work on literary tourist itineraries related
to the work of Thomas Hardy I set about linking my personal experience as a
reader and teacher of his work to that of my personal experience as a visitor
to locations associated with writing, and working with organisations that
sought to weave his legacy into their cultural tourism offerings such at the
National Trust (Middleton, 2013a). Throughout this essay I am deploying
what Adams et al. describe as ‘analytic autoenthnography’, “[i]n which a
researcher acknowledges membership in a research community [and assesses] …
the theoretical contributions of research in distinct and separate moments
of … [their] narrative” (Adams, et al. p. 85). In this paper I am writing about
 Autoethnography and literary tourism 83
and from my personal and professional experience of doing, teaching and
writing about literary tourism – not anyone else’s.

Literary tourism
Commentators such as Smith (2009) and Timothy (2011) locate literary
tourism as a specialised instance of cultural tourism. UK national data, based
on the International Passenger Survey 2006–2011, suggests that around 3 per
cent of the circa 11 million inbound visitors coming to the UK on a holiday
engage in visiting locations because of their literary or film and TV associations.
Visit Britain’s (2015) Valuing activities report, based on online interviews with
2,427 domestic tourists, notes that visiting a location associated with a TV
series, film or work of literature was an activity engaged in by 2 per cent of
day visitors and 4 per cent of overnight visitors. I write what follows from
personal experience of a cultural activity – self-guided literary tourism – that
a minority of tourists in the UK undertake.
Smith suggests that “visitors to literary places are … more purposeful and
have more specific reasons for making their visit … than the ‘general’ heritage
visitor” (Smith 1999, 64). Understanding the motives for instances of literary
tourism activity is a complex business (Middleton, 2013a). Squire’s study of
visitors to Beatrix Potter’s home at Hill Top in the English Lake District
found that “visitors were actively negotiating and transforming the meanings
of authenticity in attempts to fulfil expectations about what Potter’s home, the
setting for her books … should be like” (Squire, 1994, p. 115). Literary tourists
share with cultural and heritage tourists an interest in having an ‘authentic’
experience (Herbert, 2001). Debate continues about the relevance of this facet
of the visitor experience, and this discussion is well-worn, with its roots in the
argument between Boorstin (1961) and MacCannell (1973; 1976), and Urry’s
intervention correcting MacCannell’s account of the tourist as dupe with the
compelling argument that the “tourist finds pleasure in the multitude of
games that can be played and knows that there is no authentic tourist
experience” (Urry, 1995, p. 140). I adopt a constructivist view of the question
of the authenticity of literary tourist experiences – this assumes that literary
locations:

have different meanings for different people [and that the] level of
authenticity is negotiable between visitors, curators and service providers.
Therefore authenticity is not inherent in the properties or characteristics
of objects and places, but is simply based on judgements made about …
[literary tourism locations] by consumers (Timothy, 2011, p. 108).

Literary tourism is thus an activity in which “visitors make sense of their

encounters with literary places” through the interaction of “private mean-
ings … with public forms and images” (Squire, 1994, p. 107). From this per-
spective, I would argue that writing about the literary tourist experience using
84 Tim Middleton
more traditional qualitative methodologies, which tend to efface the
researcher from the process, is in itself inauthentic since it involves aggregat-
ing the varied experiences of participants who are unique individuals. As
such, I would suggest that literary tourism is an experience that can be very
effectively explored via an autoethnographic research practice.

Edward Thomas as literary tourist

My focus is on self-guided literary tourism, which starts from an interest in a
writer and their locales and then sets out to explore a region armed with
knowledge of the work and just a map. The model that most speaks to my
own experience and practice is Edward Thomas’s The South Country (1909)
in which he describes his approach as follows:

And so I travel, armed only with myself, an avaricious and often libertine
and fickle eye and ear, in pursuit, not of knowledge, not of wisdom, but
of one whom to pursue is never to capture (1909, p. 6).

This methodology underpins his In Pursuit of Spring (2016: first published

1914) – a cycling odyssey across southern Britain undertaken in 1913 that traces
his journey from Balham in SW London to the Quantock Hills on the Somerset
coast. Thomas’s journey is a literary one – his wide knowledge of the writing of
Southern England informs his reflection on the locales he visits en route to
Somerset, and his goal is to arrive in the Quantock Hills with the Spring, and to
be in the region that the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge inhabited:

I would see Nether Stowey, the native soil of ‘Kubla Khan’, ‘Christabel’,
and the ‘Ancient Mariner’, where Coleridge fed on honey dew and drank
the milk of paradise (Thomas, 2016, 37).

My choice of this text as a guide to doing literary tourism is not, of course,

random. My reading of Thomas is enriched for me because I have personal
knowledge of many of the locations he visits. I was born, lived and worked in
the South West for many years, and have visited, driven through, walked
across and cycled around many of the locations Thomas mentions. When he
describes the “dark trees of Grovely” wood near Salisbury, for example, I
know the view up to the wood from the road (Thomas, 2016, p. 111). This
means that as I read Thomas my own experience of these settings adds to my
experience of his work – it is this that lies at the core of my interest
in undertaking literary tourism: despite the gap in years one can still stand on
the beach at Kilve and see the rock formations that Thomas saw in 1913. In
fact, a recent Guardian essay on Thomas’s book illustrates the interest of this
‘then and now’ aspect of literary tourism by allowing readers to compare
photographs from his journey with contemporary images taken in the same
locations (Sherratt, 2016).
 Autoethnography and literary tourism 85
I believe that this sense of a search for a shared experience of place underpins
much literary tourism. As Smith has argued:

Identifying and visiting literary places adds to the understanding and

appreciation of literature … and, conversely, … a knowledge of literature
sharpens our enjoyment of place (Smith, 1999, p. 47).

The role of personal experience in ‘sense-making’ strongly connects literary

tourism as a practice and autoethnography as a method (Adams et al., 2015,
p. 27). A challenge for heritage custodians and tourism agencies is that a
personal experience tends not to be something that translates readily into the
segmented data which tend to focus on setting out the broad range of touristic
activity afforded by a literary location rather than the narrowly literary asso-
ciations of the property. Croquet may have been played by Hardy and his
guest as his Max Gate house, but one doubts that they indulged in Easter egg
hunts. Hardy Country – www.hardycountry.org – is a concoction of the
National Trust and regional partners, rather than the place that emerged from
his fiction and poetry. However, standing in the writer’s study at Max Gate on
Good Friday reading his poem ‘Unkept Good Fridays’ written in the very
room in 1927 creates an experience that is unique for the visitor, whether it is
the first or fifteenth time they have read the poem (Smith, 2003). This is also
an experience that has been curated by the National Trust property manager
who arranges for appropriate poems to be displayed in Hardy’s study.
Autoethnographic research is often structured around an epiphanic
moment, curated or otherwise, when the writer describes a significant experience
that changes the way they see the world (Adams et al., 2015). Less life-altering
but nonetheless significant ‘aesthetic moments’ are also a key element of many
autoethnographic studies (Adams et al. 2015, p. 48). I believe that it is this search
for the ‘aesthetic moment’ that inspires much self-guided literary tourism. This
hunch resonates with Urry’s suggestion that the romantic gaze – “involving vision,
awe, aura” – is a key element of this particular kind of touristic experience (1995,
p. 191). Tellingly, recent UK research noted that ‘emotional impact’ was a key
factor in visitors’ perceptions of successful cultural tourism experiences. Visitors
reported seeking this emotional engagement as part of what motivated them
to visit locations related to heritage and culture (Visit Britain, 2016).
Thomas’s journey is driven by a similar search for emotional impact. He
begins in London’s streets, oppressed by “the roar … of the inhuman masses”
(Thomas, 2016, p. 26) and the cold February weather, a place where glimpses
of beauty and bliss are quickly “drowned in the oceanic multitude”. He plans
his journey as an escape from the winter city and its crowds, nostalgically
imagining “travelling into one of the preludes to summer” (p. 33) such as the
Springs of “five years, twenty years ago” (p. 33). Nostalgia seems to me a
powerful catalyst for literary tourism, connected with complex motivations
participants may have for undertaking aspects of heritage and cultural tourism,
which is associated with the desire for a “temporary escape from a variety of
86 Tim Middleton
external pressures: everyday life, modernity, and urban industrialization”
(Squire, 1994, p. 113). In Thomas’s book this search is overlain with an added
religious symbolism since he begins his journey at Easter – on Good Friday –
and there is clearly an element of secular reparation and resurrection through
Nature in the work’s trajectory.
Setting off in heavy rain after a stormy night Thomas picks his way
through flooded streets. The rain becomes heavier and he seeks shelter in a
bird shop – “not a cheerful or a pretty place” (Thomas 2016, p. 45), watching
as another person sheltering from the rain buys a chaffinch “fluttering in a
paper bag” (p. 46) and then cycles off. Thomas follows and notices that:

Unable to bear the fluttering in the paper bag any longer; he got down,
and with an awkward air, as if he knew how many great men had done it
before, released the flutterer. A dingy cock chaffinch flew off amongst the
lilacs of a garden saying ‘Chink’ (p. 46).

This is not presented as an epiphanic moment but is clearly a symbolic gesture

of reparation and hoped for freedom. This other cyclist is a key aspect to
Thomas’s representation of his literary tour and as such functions as an
interesting autoethnographic device. The other man is perhaps an amalgam of
Thomas’s actual travelling companions, but equally functions as “an inner
voice externalised”, which has exaggerated traits we know to be Thomas’s
(Harris, 2016, p. 18). It is the notion of watching and reflecting in experience
as a means of developing self-awareness and deeper personal understanding that
makes Thomas an autoethnographer. His use of ‘the other man’ as foil is a way
of acknowledging and accommodating “subjectivity, emotionality, and the
researcher’s influence on research, rather than hiding from these matters or
assuming they don’t exist” (Ellis et al., 2011, p. 2). The formal structure of
Thomas’s narrative – its digressions, dialogues with the other man, acute obser-
vations of people and places encountered – are in and of themselves a means of
doing his research and are illustrative of how he undertakes his literary journey.
Writing from notes made and photographs taken on what were a series of
journeys (Harris, 2016, p. 17), Thomas crafts a narrative that presents the trip
as one continuous experience. He punctuates it with a mix of the quotidian and
the humdrum set alongside moments of emotional impact: a mixture that may
be part of many literary tourist’s ‘active negotiation’ of the gaps between their
preconceptions and what is actually before their eyes (Squire, 1994, p. 115).
As a case study in doing autoethnography Thomas has much to offer since
his work foregrounds the ways in which literary technique is part and parcel
of this method of inquiry (Adams et al., 2015). The other male figure enables
him to “describe moments that are felt too difficult to claim” (Ellis et al., 2011,
p. 4), or give voice to views that he cannot utter, which he articulates as “From
Parents, Schoolmasters, and Parsons, from Sundays and Bibles … from
Shame and Conscience … Good Lord, or whatever Gods there be, deliver us”
(Thomas, 2016, p. 110). Whilst present throughout much of the narrative
 Autoethnography and literary tourism 87
there are long sequences when he is absent (for example, pp. 49–94 then again
between pp. 99–109, and pp. 110–168). When the two meet it is usually pre-
sents an occasion for a digression (for example, re clay pipes – pp. 94–99), or a
means of allowing Thomas to take stock of the journey – “he reminded me …
of what I was engaged in forgetting” (p. 99). Later it is revealed that the other
man is a writer and we hear him rant about the use of notebooks to record his
observations. The notes become what is recalled, he laments, whereas:

if he had taken none, then only the important, what he truly cared for,
would have survived in his memory, arranged not perhaps as they were in
Nature, but at least according to the tendencies is of his own spirit (p. 169).

With this self-conscious turn we see Thomas deploying another of the auto-
ethnographer’s devices: “using facets of storytelling (for example character
and plot development), showing and telling, and alterations of authorial
voice” (Ellis, et al, 2011, p. 4) to explain his experience.
In Pursuit of Spring deploys the tools of autoethnography in relating a lit-
erary tourist journey through Southern England in pursuit of Coleridge and a
vision of Spring. The book ends as Thomas rides down from the Quantocks:
pausing to look at the view “across the flat valley of the Mendips and Brent
Knoll, and to Steep Holm and Flat Holm … [and] the blueness of the hills of
South Wales” (p. 227). He closes his account with a personal epiphany after
spotting a discarded bunch of bluebells and cowslips left by the roadside:

They were beginning to wilt, but they lay upon the grave of Winter, I was
quite sure of that … I had found Winter’s grave, I had found Spring, and
I was confident I could ride home again and find Spring all along the
road … Thus I leapt over April and into May, as I sat in the sun on the
north side of Cothelstone Hill on that 28th day of March, the last day of
my journey westward to find Spring (Thomas, 2016, p. 228).

He has told a story of his travels where personal memory and opinion are
presented as being as valuable as hard facts. He mixes the mundane and
quotidian with passages where he tries, by reference to the work of writers
inspired by or writing from the places he is visiting, to evoke a deeper meaning
to his experience without once suggesting that his experience is one his reader
should be aiming to emulate. He doesn’t attempt to offer a guidebook but
rather presents a series of impressions based on his experience and illuminated
by his wider reading and knowledge. The Observer newspaper favourably noted
this impressionistic quality:

[H]e thinks of other poets and writers, as he passes the places where they
lived … his thoughts on them are just and sincere as are his thoughts on
the weather and the inns and the beauty of the country and the character
of the people he meets (Sheratt, 2016).
88 Tim Middleton
By producing ‘artful and evocative’ thick descriptions of personal and inter-
personal experience Thomas exemplifies good autoethnographic practice
(Ellis, et al., 2011, p. 4) (see Table 5.1).

In pursuit of Iain Banks – reflections on doing literary tourism

Thomas’s study had a clear goal – to follow the signs of Spring to the heartland
of one of his favourite writers. I had begun to read the work of the popular
Scottish novelist Iain Banks in my leisure time, but found that he dealt with
themes and issues that I was covering in my classes and my writing. As a
teacher, I spent some time in the 1990s leading seminars on national identity
and contemporary literature. This work spilled over into critical essays and
conference papers about Banks’s work that began to take a focus on refuting
the notion that he was one of Scotland’s least ‘place sensitive’ writers
(Patterson, 2002, p. 28). As part of a teaching related project in 2008 I created
an opportunity to test this notion ‘on the ground’ when I undertook fieldwork
in the Scottish region of Argyll with colleagues and a team of students to
develop a literary tourism app based on the novelist’s 1992 novel The Crow
Road. My colleague Professor Martin Reiser has written about the technical
aspects of this work (Reiser, 2012), and I have set out details of the way
Banks uses the locales we visited for literary ends (Middleton, 2013b). In this
paper, I offer an autoethnographic account of doing literary tourism high-
lighting issues relating to authenticity and authorial intervention encountered
during the fieldwork for our project. It is the lessons to be learned from
attempting to do literary tourism in a technologically driven or overly
rationalist fashion that I want to tease out in this paper, and it was by
applying an autoethnographic lens that I perceived flaws in my approach to
this field work. I have distilled my thinking into an account of two key aspects
that shape my understanding of the experience.

Authenticity
The Crow Road isn’t a guide to the region of Argyll between the village of
Lochgair and the port of Crinan where much of the novel’s action takes place.
This region’s significance in the history of Scotland however means that, in
this novel, Scottish settings are far more than a mere backdrop to its action.
The region is “in what had been the very epicentre of the ancient Scots
kingdom of Dalriada” (Banks, 1992, p. 57). This is of particular significance
for what Banks’s novel does with that history by placing his villain Fergus
Urvill’s castle close to the Dark Age fort of Dunadd. The settings of key
scenes are placed in the wider terrain of Kilmartin Glen, for it is in this area
that the Scots as a race first arrived from Ireland in 503 AD under the lea-
dership of one Fergus mac Erc. In a novel that plays out family history
against the backdrop of world events the special significance of this region for
the history of the Scottish nation is playfully interwoven (Middleton, 2013b).
Table 5.1 Common features in autoethnography and literary tourism practice as exemplified in Edward Thomas’s In Pursuit of Spring
Autoethnographic facets Thomas – Autoethnographer and literary tourist Literary tourism facets
Epiphanies or ‘aesthetic moments’ “I had found Winter’s grave, I had found Spring, Visitors seek ‘emotional impact’ when visiting
and I was confident I could ride home again and sites associated with books they have enjoyed
find Spring all along the road….” (Thomas,
2016, p. 228).
“Articulating … personal connections “And so I travel, armed only with myself, an Identifying and visiting literary places adds to
to – and …investment in – identities, avaricious and often libertine and fickle eye and the understanding and appreciation of
experiences, relationships and/ or ear, in pursuit, not of knowledge, not of wisdom, literature … and, conversely, ‘a knowledge of
cultures” (Adams, 2015, pp. 15–16). but of one whom to pursue is never to capture.” literature sharpens our enjoyment of place.’
(Thomas, 1909, p. 6). (Smith, 1999, p. 47).
The “tourist finds pleasure in the multitude
of games that can be played and knows that
there is no authentic tourist experience” (Urry,
1995, p. 140).
Written from experience I travelled fast, in hopes I should These places are ‘consumed in terms of
Outrun that other. What to do participants’ prior knowledge, expectations,
When caught, I planned not. I pursued fantasies and mythologies generated in the
To prove the likeness, and, if true, tourist’s origin culture rather than by the
To watch until myself I knew. (Thomas, 1918). cultural offerings of the destination’. (Middleton
2013a, citing Craik, p. 118).
“subjectivity, emotionality, and the “if he had taken [no notes] … then only the Literary tourism is thus an activity in which
researcher's influence on research, important, what he truly cared for, would have “visitors make sense of their encounters with
rather than hiding from these matters survived in his memory, arranged not perhaps as literary places’ through the interaction of
or assuming they don't exist” (Ellis they were in Nature, but at least according to the ‘private meanings …with public forms and
et al., 2011). tendencies is of his own spirit” (Thomas, 2016, images” (Squire, 1994, p. 107).
p. 169).
(Continued)
Table 5.1 continued
Autoethnographic facets Thomas – Autoethnographer and literary tourist Literary tourism facets
Multiple perspectives - identities, The Other Man – an alternative voice. Also Literary locations, “have different meanings
experiences, relationships and/ or citations from the authors who write about the for different people [and that the] level of
cultures’ (Adams et al. 2015, locations he visits create additional voices and authenticity is negotiable between visitors,
pp. 15-16). viewpoints. curators and service providers. Therefore
authenticity is not inherent in the properties or
characteristics of objects and places but is
simply based on judgements made about …
[literary tourism locations] by consumers”
(Timothy, 2011, p. 108).
“Fleeting, fallible and feeling based Plans his journey as an escape from the winter A “temporary escape from a variety of external
accounts which accept that memories city and its crowds, nostalgically imagining pressures: everyday life, modernity, and urban
and histories ‘are connected and ‘travelling into one of the preludes to Summer’ industrialization” (Squire, 1994, p. 113).
differentiated, familiar and (p. 33) such as the springs of ‘five years, twenty
misrecognised” (Adams et al., 2015, years ago’ (p. 33).
p. 53).
Dialogic – “talking…sharing and The other man figure enables Thomas to: “Visitors were actively negotiating and
learning about …everyday practices… transforming the meanings of authenticity in
beyond the ‘rarefied atmosphere of the give voice to views that he cannot utter attempts to fulfil expectations about what … the
interview’” (Adams et al., 2015, provide the occasion for a digression setting for her books … should be like” (Squire,
pp. 52–53). take stock of the journey 1994, p. 115).
reflect on method and process – self reflexive
Source: Tim Middleton
 Autoethnography and literary tourism 91
We took what with hindsight was an overly literal or rationalist approach
towards planning the itinerary by plotting the ‘real’ locations that feature in
the fiction onto the map. In several cases this led to some dull treks to lochs
where there was nothing to see but water surrounded by trees, but also up to
Loch Glashen to film the scene where the hero’s parents are spotted making
love in a dinghy at the centre of the lake, or through the woods to Loch Coille
Bharr to film the setting where – in a key part of the plot – a motor bike and
body are dumped. The most telling lessons were not learned from the locations
that worked – Carnasserie Castle as a double for the ruin Fergus’s castle, run-
ning off the road in a rather too realistic recreation of the crash scene
at Achnaba; filming at Connel airfield and catching a plane at take-off that
perfectly matched a scene in the novel – but in fact the one that didn’t work at
all. Towards the end of the novel there is an atmospheric and emotional scene
where Prentice (the novel’s hero) looks down onto Kilmartin Glen while
brooding on the landscape and its histories and his recent experience of loss.
The novel tells us the exact spot we needed to film from, a dun or ancient fort
site on the hill named Bac Chrom above the village of Slockavullin (Banks,
1992, p. 324). The marked-up map for our trip is shown in Figure 5.1.

Figure 5.1 OS map (from Explorer sheet 358) showing the location of Bac Chrom
Reproduced with permission from Ordnance Survey Limited – account number
10058299/ invoice number 92619077
92 Tim Middleton
We parked in the hamlet of Trevenek on the edge of Slockavullin and I led
the party along a track through the hamlet of Raslie. We followed the track
uphill as it ran along the edge of the burn and through the strip of woodland
at the Mulach Mor. Our goal was the hill called Bac Chrom. The students
were lugging camera equipment, tripods and sound recording gear. The
technician was checking the GPS against the map and our location and was
looking puzzled. I was ‘the expert’ on Banks and I’d planned the trip and our
itinerary. My role here was ‘leading’ by deciding the route and taking a few
still photographs to document our progress. Midges were bothering us as we
passed through the woodland and came off the track onto the open hill. As
we climbed it became apparent that the summit of the hill of Bac Chrom was
so wooded that filming from it would really only present a view of trees and
not the Glen below. It was also clear that the site of the dun (a hill fort) lay
beyond the summit, and was in fact on the wrong side to offer a view down
into the valley. Indeed, there were three duns – two on the wrong side of Bac
Chrom and one half a mile below the hill’s summit, and not in sight of the
track to the village. Hot and tired we agreed that we had a good enough view
from where Banks said the dun was, rather than its actual location, and
filmed the scene from a point some 100 metres below the summit.
We had set out on this journey with a plan to capture images and video
that would enable future visitors to explore the locations that inspired Banks,
teasing out textual clues on the ground. We placed a premium on accuracy so
brought GPS equipment to allow us to tag the locations we filmed. What we
continually came up against was the gap between the text and ‘the ground’.
Inspired by the novel’s rich evocation of the ‘lived experience’ of the region, I
had overlooked the fact that the map represented the landscape whereas
Bank’s novel re-imagined it for creative ends.

Authorial intervention
As Ousby wisely reminds us, writers:

frustrate the literal-minded researcher by moving real places across the

county in obedience to imaginative requirements, by conflating several
into one composite fictional entity, or simply by inventing a single place
to epitomise the character of a whole terrain (Ousby, 1990, p. 9).

In his non-fiction travel book, Raw Spirit, Banks makes plain the ways that his
literary imagination played fast and loose with Argyll’s geography, writing that he
had to cut the island of Jura in half to make The Crow Road’s imaginary west
coast of Scotland work (Banks, 2004, p. 69). In attempting to follow the novel’s
locations using a map it quickly became apparent that what was more interesting
were the ways in which this landscape’s history was woven into the novel.
In attempting to follow the novel’s locations using a map it quickly became
apparent that what was more interesting were the ways in which this
 Autoethnography and literary tourism 93
landscape’s history was woven into the novel. This was something that was
touched on in the book, but only by visiting the region and its museums did
we gain an awareness of the ways that Banks’s narrative playfully explores
ancient Scots history alongside the McHoan’s convoluted family history and
the wider world events of its epoch. Visiting the region and learning more
about its ancient sites sharpened my sense of the way Banks deals with a
distinctively Scottish history to make this novel a potent description of the
“imaginative possibilities of the idea of Scotland, or Scotlands, a matrix of
myths, attitudes, possibilities, histories” (Gifford et al., 2002, p. 733). It is
ironic that I only discovered this by leading a project that sought to pin down
and frame something as fleeting, multi-faceted and subjective as a sense of
place. By trying to film an epiphanic moment from the novel on the hill
of Bac Chrom, and realising I couldn’t, I gained insight into Banks’s use of
place, and about the role of unstructured and unexpected experiences as a key
aspect in self-guided literary tourism.

Literary tourism in Scotland

Banks’s use of the Kilmartin Glen locations in his novel directs readers to
exactly the kind of cultural heritage tourism sites that Scotland’s national
tourism agency suggest should be central to the country’s offer. It argues that
tourism businesses “[m]arketing messages should showcase [the nation’s] core
assets – landscape, history, culture” (Visit Scotland, 2014a). Visit Scotland’s
2015 Scotland visitor survey found that ‘History and Culture’ was the second
most highly cited reason for a tourist visit (32 per cent of 5,497 respondents).
The survey included the question: ‘Thinking broadly about your decision to
choose Scotland for your holiday or short break, what first prompted you
to consider Scotland for this trip?’ Seven per cent of survey participants
directly cited books set in or about Scotland as the reason for their visit. The
most mentioned text was Outlander, and other books and writers cited were
Walter Scott, Harry Potter, the Lewis Trilogy, Blackhouse, Ian Rankin, and
Kidnapped. It is notable that this figure appears to be higher for the UK as a
whole, where 4 per cent of overnight visitors cited this as a reason for their
visit as a whole, but further research is needed to produce a secure estimate
(Visit Britain 2015).
It may be telling that Banks is absent from this list, but I don’t believe the
idea of our literary tourism app was misplaced, for linking up a writer with a
location could be an effective tourism growth strategy given the scale of
visitor numbers with an interest in literary tourism. In fact, the current Visit
Scotland site has a section on literary tourism which offers an e-book on
Scottish Literature and brief details about 27 authors including Iain Banks
(http://ebooks.visitscotland.com/scottish-literature/39/ accessed 14 Mar 2016).
His presence in the Visit Scotland eBook implies that he is a writer whom the
tourist agencies feel is worth citing when framing the country’s offer. When
we planned our field work we had in mind the way that a popular author can
94 Tim Middleton
drive visitor behaviour, as is currently the case with Outlander tourism. It was
also clear following our field trip that Banks’s novel made particular use of a
region of Argyll with very strong heritage tourism assets.
Argyll’s economy has a reliance on tourism, which generated £92.3 million
GVA (gross value added) to the regional economy in 2012 (Visit Scotland
2014). The most recent analysis of visitors to the Argyll region dates from
2011 and recorded 1.8 million tourists visiting Argyll, the Isles, and sur-
rounding regions in 2010 (Visit Scotland, 2011). Within the region of Argyll
where Banks’s novel is set there are significant heritage tourism attractions
managed by Historic Scotland: the ancient sites of Kilmartin Glen (including
Carnasserie Castle), the Dunadd, and the Kilmartin stone circle. These are
unstaffed sites and they are free to visit, and have estimated visitor figures for
the year 2014–15 of 48,166:

This is the total number for Kilmartin Glen – we do not have counters at
the specific sites within it. We have previously simply divided this figure
by the 15 sites within Kilmartin Glen in order to get an estimate at
the visitors to each area but that is a very unreliable method. (Historic
Scotland, 2016).

We simply do not know how many tourists have visited Dunadd, Carnasserie
or the Stone Circle, but we do know that around 48,000 visitors are counted
into Kilmartin Glen annually.
In designing the app we created a technologically mediated approach to
this region via the locations cited in the novel.
It would be fair to say that prior to visiting the region we had not researched
the ancient sites beyond the main hill fort of the Dunadd. Our approach to the
region was to visit and log details of all the sites we could trace from the
novel onto the Ordinance Survey (OS) map. At the time, we planned our
project we were aware of the Dalriada Project, a heritage tourism initiative
focusing on the same region that planned to use podcast walking guides, and
we hoped that once we had developed our prototype we could connect the two.
The Dalriada Project was just getting underway when we undertook our
fieldwork. It covered many of the sites and locations that feature in Banks’s
novel including North Knapdale, Kilmartin Glen, Carnassarie Castle and the
Crinan Canal. The project aim was to “enhance people’s access and under-
standing of the outstanding natural and cultural heritage of mid-Argyll
through a unique network of routes, sites and interpretation posts” (www.
thedalriadaproject.org). Our app exists only in journal articles, but the Dal-
riada Project final report details a highly successful collaboration that is
operating at scale and successfully engages a local community:

3,560 people participated in our events, 150 school children participated

in our community history programme and 90 local businesses got
involved in our marketing initiative. In total, 5,187 people participated in
 Autoethnography and literary tourism 95
the project. This is significant from a small rural population of around
18,000 (Dalriada Project, 2011, p. 4).

The project was successful because it was open to being linked with other
initiatives, and engaged people and communities via schools and conservation
and heritage volunteer groups. It enabled local people to tell the story of their
engagement with the area’s heritage and landscape via oral histories, or creative
projects such as making a stained glass window for a local hospital. It also
tapped into an extant market for heritage tourism in the area.

Conclusion
In looking back on the literary tourism journey that shaped our fieldwork I’m
struck by the sense of missed opportunity, but also by the fact that my failure to
make a formal connection with the Dalriada Project was part and parcel of
the rather simplistic basis for the field trip. In undertaking a literary journey
through this region of Scotland in pursuit of Iain Banks’s The Crow Road
locations I had wrongly assumed that identifying the points on the map where
the action took place would be a good basis for a tourist guide. This approach
meant I had not thought deeply enough about the ways in which place is
overlain with meanings (Agnew, 1993), and I failed to think through the way
that associations between place and action that a novel deploys for its aesthetic
purposes will not necessarily apply when a reader of that novel is trying to
follow in the protagonist’s footsteps. This is because the novel happens in your
head, whereas your journey has to navigate the actual terrain itself as part of
a process of doing. I had read the region through Banks’s novel, but was
forced to re-read it when the assumptions that informed the planned fieldwork
were caught out by the inaccessibility of a location.
Looking back on this project in the light of subsequent work I can see that
a stronger role model – such as Thomas – might’ve helped prepare me to
manage a more nuanced and ‘open’ project. Literary tourism of the kind I
have been examining in this essay yokes together the tourist’s knowledge and
curiosity with an active process of imaginative exploration. What the auto-
ethnographic approach of a writer like Thomas has helped me to understand
is that knowing and being are intimately connected – researching literary
tourism means doing literary tourism and doing is an immensely complex
business.

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6 Creative cultural tourism development
A tourist perspective
Yang Zhang and Philip Xie

Introduction
Creative tourism is considered to be a new generation in tourism. It refers to
an opportunity for tourists to “develop their creative potential through active
participation in courses and learning experiences” (Richards and Raymond,
2000, p. 18). ‘Courses’ in this context refer to activities that tourists can learn
to inspire their creativity. Creative tourism has been viewed as an extension of
cultural tourism, and provides experiences for both host and tourists for the
purpose of collective creation (Buchmann, Moore and Fisher, 2010; Richards,
2005). Creative tourism facilitates greater educational, emotional, and parti-
cipatory interaction with the special character of a place, its living culture and
heritage, and its community (UNESCO, 2006).
However, creativity is a loaded word. It is arguably not just an end in itself,
but can be rather a means through which to develop distinctiveness, financial
success, and authenticity (Zukin, 2010). In theory, creative tourism allows
tourists to learn more about local skills, expertise, tradition and the uniqueness
of the destinations they visit (Richards and Wilson, 2006). Thus, generating a
social mix between visitor and local is crucial so that the lure of creative
tourism produces valuable ‘experiencescapes’ (O’Dell, 2005), and stylish and
aesthetically suitable consumption modes.
The creative tourist is often associated with the values of the “new cultural
class” (Ley, 1994, p. 56) that has emerged in many destinations marked by
gentrification. Many in this class represent an alternative cultural movement
that is attracted to creative destinations that are accessible, have up-to-date
amenities, contain a certain social diversity, and hold performance events and
festivals that are experientially enriching. Creative industries have been built to
accommodate these performative events, such as the “Pink Night” festival a co-
performing tourism place in the Italian Romagna Riviera (Coleman and
Crang, 2002; Giovanardi, Lucarelli and Decosta, 2014). These consumers
(tourists, visitors, workers, residents) also “simultaneously consume and con-
struct the place, co-creating the value that can be derived from the experience
of these areas” (Pappalepore, Maitland and Smith, 2014, p. 237). Therefore,
tourists’ perceptions about creative tourism and the quality of the experiential
100 Yang Zhang and Philip Xie
products that stimulate their creativity through participation becomes a key
factor in determining the sustainability of creative tourism in various
destinations.
Mixed-use spaces in economic developments that encompass entertain-
ment, retailing, food, and dining form a cluster of creative industries that
establish experiencescapes for creative tourists. This transformation of verna-
cular architecture and local heritage into upscale tourism precincts demon-
strates a complex interplay between adaptive reuse, gentrification, and
creative destruction when catering to the new global tourist. For example, the
establishment of Huashan 1914 Creative Park in Taiwan was built on a
former distillery and rice wine brewery, and serves to reflect upon the slow
and simple lifestyle that was part of the traditional culture of Taipei. The
neighboring Songshan Cultural and Creative Park, which is a former tobacco
factory located in a Japanese colonial era industrial complex, is used to house
boutiques, cinemas, and restaurants. Despite the investments in these experi-
encescapes and the transformation of districts to attract tourist revenue, little
research has been conducted about the perceptions of the actual tourists who
visit these destinations, and what impacts they have on local communities
(Xie, 2015). There is a particularly urgent need to understand creative tour-
ists’ profiles and preferences. For example, those who have expressed an
interest in diversity and a gentrified experience, rather than an experience that
is characterized by the kind of standardization prevalent in packaged tours
and other forms of mass tourist entertainment.
This chapter ascertains tourists’ perception of creative tourism in Macau, a
former Portuguese colony located near the South China Sea. With the trans-
fer of Macau’s sovereignty to the People’s Republic of China in 1999, this
small enclave on the Pearl River Delta has become a gaming destination
(Yeung, Lee and Kee, 2008). In recent years, creative tourism has been advo-
cated by the Macau government’s tourism bureau, which is seeking to diversify
tourism options beyond the gaming industry. It is also providing more
opportunities for locals to participate in tourism planning, and, as other global
cities have done, to promote culture and heritage for public consumption
within a ‘creative industries’ context (Lazzeretti, 2012). This includes sites in
Macau such as the Ox Warehouse, which is an atmospheric former slaugh-
terhouse that is run by a nonprofit organization that hosts contemporary
exhibitions, workshops and performances by local and visiting artists. Several
old districts, such as St. Lazarus, which once housed nursing homes for
seniors, now contain restaurants, galleries, and art events.
The primary purpose of this book chapter is to investigate tourists’ perception
of ‘product’ in creative tourism destinations. This study surveyed tourists who
visited the Albergue Art Space in Macau, a former Portuguese district located
in St. Lazarus. This chapter begins with an extensive literature review in
creative tourism. The research setting is then introduced and the methodology
is detailed. The findings reveal diverse perceptions of creative tourism that
includes the transformation of cultural heritage into intangible experience by
 Creative cultural tourism in Macau 101
way of material infrastructure for creative tourism production, and the con-
cept of service quality as a potential factor which could influence tourists’
experience and tourists’ participation in creative production and consumption
industries. A summary of findings is provided in the conclusion.

Creative tourism and experience

Many creative tourists want more than passive sightseeing, and wish to
actively combine sport, theater, art, and lifestyle services, as well as having the
opportunity to co-produce new products and services (Richards, 2011). The
concept of creative tourism was first proposed in 1993 by tourism researchers
Pearce and Butler, and has been gradually developed by a number of scholars
and institutions (Raymond, 2007; Richards, 2011; UNESCO, 2006). The fea-
tures of creative tourism include more access to culture and history involving
more experience-centric activities, and offering an authentic engagement in
the real cultural life of a destination. Therefore, the common components of
creative tourism are “participative, authentic experiences that allow tourists to
develop their creative potential and skills through contact with local people
and their culture” (Richards, 2011, p.1237). In many respects the creative
tourist is essentially involved in a learning process.
According to Richards and Wilson (2006, pp. 1217–1219), there are three
basic types of creative tourist experiences: (1) creative spectacles, in which
tourism sites produce creative experiences intended for passive consumption
by tourists; (2) creative spaces, in which spatial changes occur to entice tourists
to engage in active interaction; and (3) creative tourism, a convergence of
creative spectacles and creative spaces that encourage active participation by
tourists. All of the activities related to creative tourism allow tourists to learn
more about local skills, expertise, traditions, and the unique qualities of
the places they visit (Richards and Wilson, 2006). Alvin Toffler (1980) coined the
term “prosumer” (professional consumer) to replace traditional consumers in the
postindustrial era, and the essence of being a prosumer involves producing one’s
own goods and services. This is associated with the growth in prosumption – a
process in which the consumer becomes a producer of the products and
experiences they consume. This practice coincides with the emergence of a
new breed of tourists aligned with skilled and creative consumption (Richards,
2014; Richards and Wilson, 2006), including postmodern travelers (Jelinčić and
Žuvela, 2012; O’Dell, 2007), and creative tourists (Raymond, 2003).
Despite the growing popularity of creative tourism, Maitland (2008) suggests
that there has been very limited research that explores what tourists want and
enjoy, and these needs must be understood for those wishing to properly cater
for this sector of the market. Raymond (2003, p. 3) segments creative tourists
in New Zealand into three distinct groups: “the baby-boomers and newly
retired”, “those under 30, often students, backpackers, perhaps visiting New
Zealand on a ‘gap year’”, and “New Zealanders themselves of all ages who
are interested to learn more about different aspects of their country’s culture”.
102 Yang Zhang and Philip Xie
These categories however were based on general demographic profiles and so
remain too broad to be used effectively. Lindroth et al. (2007) in their study of
Porvoo, Finland, argue that due to a mismatch between the perceptions of
local communities and the needs of tourists, it has increasingly become difficult
to delineate the profiles of creative tourists. Further, Gordin and Matetskaya
(2012) suggest that a lack of adaptation to the needs of creative tourists
causes a disconnection between public and private sectors, based upon a
study in St Petersburg, Russia.
Many destinations have developed terms to refer to creative tourism,
including ‘Creative Tourism New Zealand’, ‘DIY Santa Fe’ in New Mexico,
‘Creative Paris’, and ‘Creative Life Industry (CLI)’ in Taiwan. Examples of
creative tourism include traditional craft making, porcelain painting, and dan-
cing (Richards and Wilson, 2006). Destinations also have their own under-
standing of what activities appeal to creative tourists. For example, ‘Creative
Paris’ categorizes the creative activities into “art, music, culinary, design, etc.”
(Creative France, 2013), ‘Barcelona Creative Tourism’ offers creative activities
such as “performing art, theatre-related art, gastronomy, music, literature,
etc.” (Barcelona Creative, 2010), and the ‘Creative Life Industries’ of Taiwan
uses six experience-types: food culture, life education, natural ecology, interior
decoration, historic arts, and handicraft culture (Creative Life, 2008). However,
all of these categorizations are supply-led (Tan et al., 2013), and it is important
to ask questions such as: What does the creative tourist think of these creative
activities? What factors influence the tourist’s choice of activities during a
vacation? What kind of experiential learning do these tourists want? At this
time, these questions remain largely unanswered because research has not
sufficiently identified what they want. This study therefore mainly focuses on
the demand side of creative tourism and analyzes tourists who visited creative
tourism destinations in order to explore their motivations and perceptions
about creative tourism products.

Tourist perceptions
Perceptions or impressions of a destination held by tourists are directly related
to anticipated benefits and consumption values (Tapachai and Waryszak, 2000,
38). These include the totality of impressions, beliefs, ideas, expectations, and
feelings towards a place that accrue over time by an individual or group of
people (Kim and Richardson, 2003). For a given destination, Murphy,
Pritchard and Smith (2000) argue that the economic success of the tourism
marketplace depends on how tourists perceive this complex amalgam of elements
and experiences. By examining tourist perceptions and experiences, Cheang
(2011) argues that positive perceptions are linked to experiences that exceeded
expectations, and were based on cultural enrichment, host friendliness, and local
hospitality facilities. There is a sense of personal fulfillment that is derived from
such experiences, which was explained by Bowen (1998) as reflecting an
embrace of creative activities through which a sense of autonomous and
 Creative cultural tourism in Macau 103
authentic personal identity can be constructed. In the context of historical
and cultural destinations, many researchers (Garrod and Fyall, 2001; Poria,
Butler and Airey, 2001, 2003) argue that a place’s heritage and historical/cultural
characteristics are often qualities that emerge. While tourists visit historical/
cultural sites to observe historical landmarks and study the past, they also
look for participatory experience; such as a desire to pray there, and become
otherwise emotionally involved, and many feel a sense of obligation to
immerse themselves in learning about a visited culture’s past (Poria, Butler
and Airey, 2004).
Vargas-Sánchez, Porras-Bueno and de los Ángeles Plaza-Mejía (2013) have
analyzed these experiential qualities and conclude that tourists were influenced
by other tourists’ perceptions of the significance and value of that heritage.
For some sites, this influence means that the heritage artifacts are designed
and marketed to meet tourist expectations. Themes, products, and designs that
mix modernity with nostalgia (for example, souvenirs that mix modern design
with traditional patterns), are integrated into complementary local culture
services and landscapes that are the central determinants of tourist experience
of a certain destination (Cracolici and Nijkamp, 2009; Xie, Wu and Hsieh,
2012). In terms of tourist perceptions of creative tourism, a demand for
sophisticated tangible creative products and intangible service are motivated
by a desire for learning and entertainment that gives them significant emo-
tional motivation. In other words, tourists expect to immerse themselves in
“imagined, landscapes of experience” (O’Dell, 2005, p. 16).
The evaluative attributes of the present study draw compatible ideas from
literature in the fields mentioned above. A set of attributes, including themes,
programs, and designs (Xie, Wu and Hsieh, 2012) have been identified in
typical creative tourism sites, and are thus the primary categories through
which to gauge tourists’ perception of creative tourism in Macau, which are
further developed below.

Research setting
Macau has surpassed Las Vegas as “the largest gaming center in the world,
and is poised to overtake the entire state of Nevada in total gaming revenues”
(Culver, 2009, p. 1057). The development of casinos in Macau dates back to
1962, when the Sociedade de Turismo e Diversões de Macau (STDM) was
launched, however, there was a huge surge of new casinos after the territory
was transferred to Chinese administration in 1999 (McCartney, 2005) and it
became Macau’s pillar industry. Multiple cultures are also represented in
specifically themed environments throughout the territory, ranging from casinos
to smaller-scale shopping and entertainment precincts (Cheng, 2002). In
addition, Macau represents the integration of two cultures – Portuguese and
Chinese – and has been a cultural melting pot for East and West since the
sixteenth century (Li, 2005). This cultural heritage therefore has considerable
potential for creative tourism development.
104 Yang Zhang and Philip Xie
In some respects, creative tourism depends on the resilience of communities
(Ahern, 2011), and in Macau’s case, the resilience of a gaming city. Macau’s
reliance on gaming has made it prosperous, but it will need to diversify
its economy if it wants to avoid the adverse impact of a major financial crisis.
Creative tourism is seen as an important element in a diversified economy,
and can play a “crucial role in both China’s economic reforms and its utopian
desires” (Simpson, 2008, p. 1053). Creative tourism development in Macau
has gained attention from local government and communities, and in 2003
the Civic and Municipal Affairs Bureau established the Macau Center of
Creative Industry, and the Macau Creative Space to encourage the growth of
local creative industries.
Macau experienced a very compact development and contains many
organic and mixed-use neighborhoods, which are mainly centered on the
former Leal Senado Square. As Mai (2006) argues, Macau has great potential
for creative tourism although the current development of this industry is still
in its infancy. Firstly, the majority of its built heritage is old and rich in
patrimonial value, and has been accepted into the World Cultural Heritage
List, which has attracted international esteem. Secondly, Macau is a free
social environment that attracts many cultural creative talents, and already
has a sizeable local group of creative people that it can draw on as a resource.
It is also a member of CEPA, “9+2” Cooperation (Mainland and Hong Kong
Closer Economic Partnership Arrangement), and is a bridge between Chinese
and Portuguese speaking countries.
This study has chosen Albergue da Santa Casa da Misericórdia Macau as
the case study site. It is located in the typical S. Lázaro Neighborhood, and
was renovated and restored in 2003 under the supervision and vision of
Brother Carlos Marreiros, and the altruistic collaboration of engineers Gilberto
Gomes and José Silveirinha. According to the Macau Government Tourism
Administration, this precinct has served as a base for the development of
Macau’s cultural and creative industries in recent years. Albergue SCM features
a small courtyard with two 100-year-old, yellow-hued Portuguese buildings.
Two old camphor trees tower over this tranquil courtyard. Many of the local
poor and refugees lived here during World War II so it became known as the
‘Shelter of the Poor’. It was also known as the ‘Old Ladies House’ as it once
served as a refuge for elderly females. Nowadays, its galleries house various
local art and creative design exhibitions, and a nearby Portuguese restaurant
draws tourists from around the world. Albergue SCM also holds poetry-
reading sessions and art seminars to enhance local art, cultural and creative
development. These sites and activities imbue this historical monument with a
unique vitality.

Methodology
Since this study is context-specific in its examination of Macau, scales adop-
ted from literature have been slightly modified to suit a local situation. A 14-
 Creative cultural tourism in Macau 105

Figure 6.1 Pic Albergue da Santa Casa da Misericórdia Macau

item scale measured on a five-point Likert scale was generated from the
research (Baloglu and Mangaloglu, 2001; Chi and Qu, 2008) to measure the
destination perception construct. In addition, questions requiring demo-
graphic information were directed at creative cultural tourists at the end of
the questionnaire.
The measurement scales have been adopted and slightly modified from the
extant literature, and a pre-test of the measurement instrument was deemed
necessary to validate the items in the scale. This pre-test was conducted in two
stages: initially, the survey questionnaire was circulated to a pool of tourism
scholars, creative industry officials and the Macau tourist office requesting
feedback on the wording, the questionnaire layout, and their understanding of
the measurement items. Their feedback was recorded and taken into account
when the survey questionnaire was revised. The questionnaire was then pre-
tested using a sample of creative cultural tourists in Albergue da Santa Casa
da Misericórdia (N=50) to ascertain the reliability and validity of the mea-
surement items. Cronbach’s Alpha reliability scale of tourism perception is
0.860, which suggests that this questionnaire is suitable for an extended
survey of large sample sizes. The final version of the questionnaire survey was
administered in Chinese (Mandarin) as the majority of tourists in Macau are
from China. The survey was undertaken in various travel seasons in Macau
from January to April 2016. Tourists were approached on a next-to-pass basis
within and around the site, and researchers explained the purpose of the
study. A total of 412 valid questionnaires were collected. Frequency analysis
106 Yang Zhang and Philip Xie
of the respondents’ social demographic characteristics was conducted to
explore their assumptions and a mean value analysis of tourist perception was
used for obtaining tourists’ attitude within this variable. Finally, exploratory
factor analysis was employed to identify the dimensions of tourists’ perception
towards this creative tourism destination.

Findings

Social demographic characteristics of tourists

The demographic variables of respondents are listed in Table 6.1. Of the total
respondents, 63.3 percent were female and 36.7 percent male, which indicated
that females form a disproportionate number of visitors to this creative tourism
destination. The majority of respondents were between the ages of 21 and
30 (51 percent), and between 31 and 40 (23.2 percent). In terms of occupa-
tions, 43.2 percent identified themselves as white collar (often working in the
business sector), and 18.9 percent as students. With respect to educational
attainment, 68.5 percent of respondents claimed to have earned a college degree
and 16.4 percent reported completing a graduate degree. In terms of monthly
income, 46.1 percent of respondents are at the level of 10,000 Macau Pataca (US
$1,200) and above. The overwhelming number of visitors, 90.4 percent came
from the neighboring regions of Macau, such as Hong Kong (44.3 percent) and
Taiwan (46.1 percent), while Mainland tourists only comprised 7.8 percent of the
total. The data shows that 23.6 percent of respondents stated they visited
St. Lazaro after seeing information about it on the Internet. Receiving recom-
mendations from friends and relatives was more popular with 30.3 percent of
respondents claiming they went to Macau for that reason.
These characteristics reflect a viable sample and demographic pattern of
tourists who visit the creative tourism destination of Macau, and these match
typical cultural tourists (Orbasli, 2000; Richards, 2001; Richards and Wilson,
2006). More importantly, they match the characteristics of “Bobos” (“Bour-
geois Bohemian,” a term coined by David Brooks in 2000) that refers to a new
knowledge elite. “Bobos” are prevalent in globalized cities and adopt lifestyles
and political attitudes that stand in contrast to that of conventional tourists.
They tend to have a rewarding and well-paid occupation with high income, and
above average educational attainment. They exhibit enthusiasm for con-
temporary arts, alternative rock concerts, and so forth (Saint-Paul, 2015). From
a demand perspective, the many female tourist respondents demonstrate a new
form of creative tourism market where gender is an important consideration.
On the other hand, the relatively low number of Mainland Chinese tourists
suggests that traditional group tourists are not visiting sites like Macau.
Instead, it is more appealing to a generation connected to social media and
the Internet that plays a key role in disseminating information about creative
tourist destinations. Word-of-mouth recommendations from friends and rela-
tives are also crucial for decisions made by creative tourists.
 Creative cultural tourism in Macau 107
Table 6.1 Profile of sample respondents (N=412)
% of the sample % of the sample
Gender Education
Male 36.7 Less than high school 2.0
Female 63.3 High school 13.1
Age College graduation 27.3
<20 years 7.8 Bachelor’s degree 41.2
21-30 51.0 Graduate degree 16.4
31-40 23.2 Information source
41-50 8.6 Internet 23.6
51-60 7.0 TV program 5.9
>61 years 2.5 Relatives and friends 30.3
recommend
Occupation Tourism magazine 10.0
Students 18.9 Others 30.1
Business 7.8 Monthly income (MOP)
Civil servant 5.9 <2000 16.8
White collar 43.2 2001-4000 10.9
Teacher 4.7 4001-6000 8.2
Doctor 1.8 6001-8000 8.8
Blue collar 2.3 8000-10000 9.2
Attorney 0.6 >10001 46.1
Retired/others 14.8
Tourist source
Mainland China 7.8
Hong Kong 44.3
Taiwan 46.1
Others 1.8

Source: Authors.

Perception of creative tourist destination

Table 6.2 presents the mean ratings of tourists’ perceptions about the creative
tourism destination they visit. On a scale ranging from 1 (completely dis-
agree) to 5 (completely agree), tourists were asked to describe various aspects
of their attitude towards the destination. A total of ten description summaries
108 Yang Zhang and Philip Xie
Table 6.2 Tourists’ perception of creative tourism destination
Characteristics Mean S.D.
Old architecture is filled with local specialty 4.487 .587
Inner decoration has an exotic flavor 4.288 .663
Architectural painting represents local flavor 4.358 .638
Spatial planning is comfortable 4.084 .713
Whole ambience is artistic 4.116 .708
Signage is clear and convenient 3.557 .929
Service instruments are suitable and comfortable 3.784 .731
Overall environment is clean and tidy 4.073 .727
Creative product/performances are interesting 3.821 .787
Service is warm and friendly 4.065 .752
Service is timely 3.751 .714
Watch the process of creative products 3.314 .822
Experience the production of creative products 3.299 .841
Participate in creative performances 3.334 .844

Source: Authors.
Note: Features were rated on a Likert scale ranging from 1 (completely disagree) to 5 (completely
agree).

seemed to reflect positive perceptions of typically popular events and sites in a

creative tourism destination. The three most commonly cited viewings of their
visiting experience were old architecture representing a local specialty (4.487),
inner decoration with an exotic flavor (4.288), and architectural painting with
a local flavor (4.358). These results demonstrated that tourists gained strong
visual impressions from the interior and exterior design elements on display at
Albergue SCM.
Table 6.3 demonstrates the result of exploratory factor analysis that was
used to identify the latent factor structure. The Kaiser-Mayer-Olkin (KMO)
measure of sampling adequacy value was .874 and the BTS was 1829.832
(p < .001). This indicated that the sample was appropriate to conduct an
exploratory factor analysis. As a result of population attributable fraction
(PAF) with varimax rotation, three factors within the 14 items were identified,
explaining 61.67 percent of the variance, which are vernacular heritage (five
items), service quality (six items) and participatory experience (three items).
The findings suggest that vernacular heritage, service quality, and partici-
patory experience promoting authenticity and originality in creative tourist
destinations may be particularly successful in attracting tourists. The sig-
nificance of vernacular architecture (both interiors and exteriors) is due to
tourist perceptions that old architecture is exotic and represents a significant
departure from their everyday lives. In addition, they paid close attention to
 Creative cultural tourism in Macau 109
Table 6.3 The result of tourists’ perceptions
Factors Factor Explained Composite
loading variance mean
Vernacular heritage 22.076 3.091
Old architectures are rich in local specialty .611
Inner decoration has exotic flavor .843
Architecture color matching is full of local .834
flavor
Spatial planning is comfortable .696
Whole planning is artistic .694
Service quality 20.507 2.871
Signage is clear and convenient .556
Service instruments are suitable and .664
comfortable
Overall environment is clean and tidy .646
Creative products/performances are .698
interesting
Service is warm and friendly .776
Service is timely .547
Participatory experience 19.083 2.672
Watch the process of creative products .853
Experience the production of creative .875
products
Participate in creative performances .857

Source: Authors.

service quality in which a fun and comfortable atmosphere is perceived as

valuable. Participatory experience is also ranked, which demonstrates that
tourists have a desire to gain hands-on experience with creative products.
Those who seek learning experiences wish to participate in cultural perfor-
mances, arts shows, and food tasting. The findings resonate with Kao, Huang
and Wu’s (2008) study that categorized the quality of tourist experiences
according to immersion, surprise, participation, and fun.

Conclusion
This chapter describes tourists’ perceptions of creative tourism, and in parti-
cular, the roles that vernacular heritage, service quality, and participatory
110 Yang Zhang and Philip Xie
experience play in attracting tourists. The research consists of analysis from a
demand and consumer perspective, using quantitative data to collate tourist’s
creative perception through their interactions with the environment, people,
product, and service. The study suggests a number of valuable findings that
can assist in developing creative tourism, and highlights the importance of the
three major factors as core appeals in a creative tourist destination.
This research demonstrates that the sustainability and viability of creative
destinations should be considered during macro tourism planning. The success
of creative tourism relies on local endorsement and ownership of the sites,
including the involvement of communities to foster a sustainable cultural
heritage. The development, management, and communication of creative
tourism sites requires optimum modes of interpretation and service, whereby
tourists are encouraged to participate, interact, and engage with some aspects
of creative culture, such as drama performance and handicraft production. In
the interim, vernacular heritage still plays a key role in enhancing the creative
tourism experience.
From an academic perspective, this study contributes to the literature on
creative tourism systems, especially the demand side by exploring creative
experience from the tourists’ viewpoint. It is evident that in order to have
creative experiences, tourists care about more than a well-decorated or
restored architectural edifice. Rather, the key element that contributes to the
creative tourists’ perception of destination is the opportunity to learn and
participate in creative production. From a marketing perspective, this study
has implications for practitioners such as creative shop owners, tourism
planners, and policy makers who are seeking to further develop creative
tourism in Macau. For example, respondents in this study have high income,
good careers, and are well educated. This indicates that they are actively
involved with creative tourism, but by different standards in comparison to
the mass tourist. Indeed, the creative tourist may exemplify a trend towards a
more professional consumption capacity for creative products and services.
Moreover, although tourists from Mainland China are the largest group in
Macau, the percentage of Mainland Chinese tourists in Albergue da Santa
Casa da Misericórdia is relatively small. This suggests there is huge potential
to expand creative tourism in the Mainland Chinese market. Tourism officials
and destination marketing organizations should therefore pay more attention
to marketing efforts to promote visits from mainland Chinese tourist groups.
Regarding the promotion channel for Chinese tourist groups, building up
online marketing platforms in China could be a potential option for younger
clientele. Meanwhile, vernacular cultural heritage should be the core element
of Macau’s creative tourism products, which is distinct from the many crea-
tive tourism attractions in Chinese cities, such as Xintiandi in Shanghai, and
the 798 Art District in Beijing.
Importantly, creative tourism cannot be simply derived from mass tourism
without considering that it best serves experienced consumers who actively
pursue unique learning and participative experiences. For example, social
 Creative cultural tourism in Macau 111
media as a popular marketing tool has been widely used by destination mar-
keting organizations, especially online media which shared 23.6 percent of the
total proportion of respondents as the information source for visits according
to this study. However, with regards to the specific online media choice for
Mainland Chinese tourists, there is potential to promote Macau on Wechat,
which is now the most popular social media site in China.
While this exploratory study of tourists’ perceptions toward creative tourism
relates to Macau, results reinforce the need for tourism planners to deliver
positive, memorable experiences for any site wishing to attract those who have
an interest in creative tourism. The most appealing experiences are often
surprising in nature for they exceed tourists’ baseline expectations. Focusing
on participatory experience, such as cultural events or craft making helps
generate self-expressive creativity (Ivcevic and Mayer, 2009). It also has a
knock-on effect via travel blog writing or interpersonal communication on
social networks, especially the virtual social environment that creative tourists
produce after their visits. These attractions and the resultant use of social
media have a broad appeal for all who seek an indelible creative tourism
experience.

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7 #travelselfie
A netnographic study of travel identity
communicated via Instagram
Ulrike Gretzel

Introduction
Consuming modern tourist experiences has always been intricately linked
with photographic practices, and sharing travel photographs with others is an
important way of processing, remembering and prolonging these experiences
(Gretzel, Fesenmaier and O’Leary, 2006). For many, travelling without taking
photographs is unimaginable; indeed, the prototypical tourist is portrayed
with a camera around their neck. Shanks and Svabo (2014) further stress the
important role of travel photography by describing the making and sharing of
images as a way of experiencing and enacting a place. What tourists take
photographs of is shaped by the tourist gaze (Urry and Larsen, 2011), which
is driven by the need to delineate travel experiences from everyday life by
seeking out the exotic and extraordinary.
Travellers nowadays increasingly share their travel photographs on social
media (Lo et al., 2011), a phenomenon that is fuelled by smartphone ownership,
fast Internet connections and the prominence of social media in people’s lives.
Shanks and Svabo (2014) refer to this as a fluid, individualized connectivity and
illustrate how it has recast photographic practices by enabling constant photo-
taking and immediate sharing. Through this engagement with social media, and
as a result of the prominence of mobile digital photography, the tourist gaze is
transformed. The focus is increasingly on photographs as communicative
devices that are taken not only for oneself or a small social circle, but as
something that is instantaneously available for a potentially large and ever
expanding audience. This audience scrutinizes posted photographs for their
“social media share-worthiness”, and only rewards posters with likes and
positive comments if the photographs stand out. As a result, it is no longer
enough to distinguish travel photographs from ordinary life, but also from the
travel photographs of others, and even the photographs one has previously
shared. In addition, Dinhopl and Gretzel (2016) suggest that the tourist gaze
is increasingly directed away from destinations and attractions and toward the self
in the process of producing the ultimate social media image, namely the selfie.
In academic discourse Dinhopl and Gretzel (2016, p. 127) define selfies as
being “characterized by the desire to frame the self in a picture taken to be
116 Ulrike Gretzel
shared with an online audience”. They also acknowledge that selfie-taking
practice is constantly evolving (e.g. through the emergence of selfie sticks and
selfie drones) and does not necessarily have to be taken by oneself or show a
close-up of the self. Selfies taken in the travel context and shared on social
media are a significant reflection of one’s travel identity. The link between
tourism consumption and self-identity has been established in the literature as
direct and important (Desforges, 2000) and social media posts have been
identified as central ways in which travellers construct narratives of them-
selves (Bosangit, Hibbert and McCabe, 2015).
Photographs take on a crucial role in providing evidence, but are even more
important in relation to communicating the essence of one’s travel identity. Lo
and McKercher (2015) describe tourist photography as not only a performance
of tourism, but also a performance of the self and argue that tourist photo-
graphs are therefore an essential element of online self-presentation. Similarly,
Van House (2011) emphasizes the role of vernacular photography not only for
memory and social relations but also as vehicles for self-representation and
self-expression. While Lo and McKercher (2015) have examined specific
practices connected with posting travel photos on social media, including the
extent to which travellers engage in impression management online, very little
is currently known about the content of travel-related self-presentations.
Therefore, the goal of the research presented in this chapter is to investigate
how travellers represent and express their identities in social media posts, with
a specific focus on selfies.

Background
The travel selfie is a particular genre of the generic selfie and has to be
understood in the broader context of selfie-taking, technological affordances
and the creation and posting of user generated contents on social media. The
following sections provide a brief introduction to the backdrop against which
the research was conducted.

Selfies
Although historically grounded in self-portraiture and snapshot photography
(Iqani and Schroeder, 2015), selfies are a relatively recent social media
phenomenon, but have had a significant social impact as 2014 was named the
Year of the Selfie by Twitter (Ng, 2014). Dinhopl and Gretzel (2016) claim
the emergence of the front-facing camera represents the single most important
technological affordance that spurred selfie-taking, and this has com-
plemented the general need in social media to produce images of the self in
order to complete one’s profile. Indeed, as Wendt (2014) emphasizes, social
media encourages selfie-taking, and animates users to create infinite versions
of themselves. However, selfies have long graduated from being a functional
necessity and have been incorporated into a number of complex psychological
 #travelselfie: A netnographic study 117
and social practices. For example, Rettberg (2014) suggests that we use selfies
to see and shape our online and offline identities and Rokka (2015) has pro-
claimed that selfies do not just portray identities but are performances of the
self that regenerate and transform identities.
Selfies come in all forms and shapes. Miller et al. (2016) identify several
selfie genres. Groupies or groufies, for example, are selfies of more than one
person. The latter have been found to be rather prominent and defeat claims
that selfie-taking is a purely narcissistic pursuit. There are also selfies that
only feature part of the self, for instance, the so-called footies. Rokka and
Canniford (2016) have investigated another selfie type: the brand selfie, which
prominently features the self in relation to or consumption of a particular
brand. What selfie genres dominate within the travel context is currently not
known.
Despite their prominence, selfies have been largely ignored in the travel litera-
ture. The few papers specifically dedicated to studies of travel selfies that have
been produced include the conceptual paper on the selfie gaze by Dinhopl
and Gretzel (2016), a paper by Lyu (2016) that investigated travel selfie
manipulation for the purpose of impression management in Korea, a conference
paper by Paris and Pietschnig (2015) that tried to link personality traits and
travel selfie-taking, a conference paper by Magasic (2016) that more generally
looks at how traveling with an imaginary social media audience shapes
experiences and photo-taking as well as sharing, and, finally, a paper by
Flaherty and Choi (2016) that addresses the often hazardous nature of travel
selfie-taking. There is thus a great need for additional research into the
representational and non-representational aspects of travel selfies and the
social media practices surrounding them.

Instagram
Social media has recently experienced a visual turn (Gretzel, 2016), as visually
dominated platforms have grown in number and ever more users are flocking to
use them. This is especially so for younger users who are increasingly commu-
nicating, almost exclusively, in visual ways on social media. One of the most
prominent and successful platforms in the visual social media category is
Instagram. Instagram currently boasts 500 million active monthly users, an
increase of 100 million users over the previous year (Statista, 2016). Over 90 per
cent of Instagram users are younger than 35 and 32 per cent of US teenagers
indicate that it is their most important social media platform (Brandwatch,
2016). These users have, to date, shared 40 billion photos and post on average
95 million photos and videos to the platform every day (Hootsuite, 2016).
Engagement is very high on the platform, with 60 per cent of users logging in
daily and 3.5 billion likes being logged every day (Brandwatch, 2016).
Until very recently, Instagram only supported the posting of photos taken
on mobile phones, but it now provides programs that enable the alteration of
photographs and uploading of short videos. Instagram’s popular reputation is
118 Ulrike Gretzel
based on its provision of filter technology that allows its users to manipulate
photographs in semi-professional ways. As a result, Instagram posts are in
many ways more artistic and visually pleasing than photographs posted on
other platforms. In response to this trend, popular magazine Marie Claire
(2014, n.p.) has suggested: “in the world of Instagram, aesthetics matter”. The
platform also has a more ephemeral and self-focused flair than others; for
instance, it does not allow users to organize their photographs into albums,
and does not afford the tagging of others in photographs. The way users dis-
cover content on Instagram is through hashtags, and by following accounts.
At the time of writing, Instagram featured over 136 million posts tagged with
#travel and over 279 million posts with the hashtag #selfie.
Miller (2015) reports that on Instagram, photos are not posted to docu-
ment, but are rather deployed to elicit likes and comments. He further notes
that Instagram is the platform on which selfie-heavy profiles are the norm and
that Instagram users perceive creating and posting Instagram photographs as
a craft. It seems that Instagram users extensively engage in the types of editing
and curating described by Lo and McKercher (2015), which is central to the
impression management instigated by travellers. Through posting photo-
graphs on Instagram, users also craft their representation of self. This actually
includes the deletion of previous posts if they did not receive enough likes, or
do not fit within the current narrative to be portrayed (Business Insider,
2016). Scott Dadich, editor-in-chief of Wired magazine, has written about the
way he uses his travel photographs to chronicle his experiences and represent
himself. He has also noted how central curating is to Instagram use because,
“since I post so many of them to social media, they’re also a version of who I
am. I edit and design my Instagram feed … well, I’d say ‘carefully,’ but
‘obsessively’ might not be wrong” (Wired, 2016, p. 16). Miller (2015) suggests
that while Instagram celebrates the mundane and users often post pictures of
ordinary life, there is also a need to, “include something a bit special and
distinct” (p. 14). This is achieved through crafting, for instance the careful
composition of objects, the application of filters, the use of unexpected angles
or perspectives and the performance of interesting looks, expressions or poses.

Methodology
Understanding social media creation behaviours and conventions requires a
cultural understanding that is in-depth and holistic. It demands an approach
that is open to seeing not only what is there, but also what is not there: what
is obvious and what is implied. It calls for data collection and its analysis and
skills that can understand and interpret the socio-technical context in which
these behaviours occur. This includes the specific social media platform and
its technological affordances, as well as its particular interaction culture, and
the abilities of smartphone cameras and selfie-sticks to visualize and frame
experiences, etc. Social media are social, and posting on social media plat-
forms is a complex communicative act that addresses a variety of real and
 #travelselfie: A netnographic study 119
imagined audiences (Miller et al., 2016). At the same time, social media make
such social communication publicly visible in unprecedented ways and offers
rich field sites for exploring the representations of travel experiences (Kozinets,
2002).
Netnography is a research approach that was specifically designed to
address the above considerations (Kozinets, 2012). Building on the principles of
ethnographic research, it employs a mix of methods like observation, participant
observation, research websites and interviewing. It strives to collect a variety
of data that, together with field notes, are analysed in a qualitative way to
derive rich insights into a cultural phenomenon. However, it is not just digital
ethnography, i.e. ethnographic research done online. Kozinets (2015) explains
that netnographic research takes advantage of social media affordances in
accessing and archiving data (e.g. the ability to conduct searches on hashtags)
and therefore offers opportunities to observe much more broadly and system-
atically than conventional ethnographic research approaches. As a result, its
findings can capture wider perspectives and trends through a macroscopic
lens, while also allowing the researcher to zoom in on the individual level
when desired. This combination of observational levels is neither available
through quantitative content analyses nor traditional qualitative research.
Netnographic research also acknowledges the particular ethical concerns
involved in conducting this kind of research: the ease with which observations
can occur without participants’ knowledge; the means of extracting and
archiving large quantities of often very personal data; the level of intertwining
of a researcher’s personal and research-related social media personas; and the
role of platforms as gatekeepers that provide rules specific to interactions on the
platform as well as use of platform contents. Further, netnography is concerned
with the selection of the particular online sites on which the research is to be
conducted, suggesting that considerations regarding rich data and relevance
for the research at hand are particularly pertinent. While originally applied to
consumer culture research, netnography has been applied across many dis-
ciplines, including tourism (see for example: Shao, Scarpino, Lee and Gretzel,
2011; Wu and Pearce, 2014; Mkono and Markwell, 2014).
As stated, the research presented in this chapter used netnography as a
research methodology. Specifically, it focused on Instagram as the main
research site due to the increasing prominence of Instagram use and its parti-
cular focus on visual content. The study goal was to identify themes from the
representational end products of touristic photographic practice, and this was
difficult given the limited interactions on Instagram. The observational part
of the study was also restricted to lurking, which meant that interactions with
Instagram users were not initiated and the data collected was therefore com-
prised of photographs posted with the respective hashtags/descriptors added.
The data sampling encompassed searches for all posts with the hashtag #tra-
velselfie and up to a hundred of the most recent pictures were captured during
each engagement with the platform. Such a specific search was deemed
appropriate as Miller et al. (2016) had identified relatively low incidence rates
120 Ulrike Gretzel
of selfies within general streams of social media posts, and searching for
#selfie would have led to challenges in identifying the selfies that had been
taken in a travel-context. Although there were a few videos besides the typical
still photographs, they were not considered for the research. The data collection
further involved only those photographs that were selfies according to the
definition by Dinhopl and Gretzel (2016). In addition, comments by users
responding to the selfies were ignored because the research question aimed at
understanding self-presentation rather than understanding others’ reactions to
the photographs. This also allowed the research to include photographs irre-
spective of the language used by the Instagram users. Only public data was
considered and captured via screenshots. In 20 cases (selected to include a large
variety of selfie types and user nationalities), the travel selfie was analysed in
context of other trip-related posts by clicking through to the user’s account and
capturing posts that occurred immediately before and after the travel selfie.
Following ethnographic, and thus also netnographic, principles of researcher
immersion, the research involved intense and long-term immersion in the
subject area through participant observation of travel photography, travel
photograph posting on social media and Instagram use in particular. While
the latter has been occurring in systematic form since 2013, a focused obser-
vational data collection period on Instagram was conducted from August to
November 2016 to specifically inform the current research. At the time of
data collection, over 16,000 posts on Instagram were tagged with the hashtag
#travelselfie.
Analysis of the data involved hermeneutical cycles of reading and rereading;
coding emergent themes; informing the identification of themes with the
researcher’s personal experiences; news articles and adding data until theore-
tical saturation was reached (Schwandt, 2000). Hermeneutics is an inter-
pretive methodology that requires reflective inquiry of the researcher in which
understanding rather than explanation is sought (Laing and Moules, 2014).
The analysis was also not aimed at understanding all types of travel selfies,
but rather emphasized the most prominent themes, with travel identity pre-
sentation serving as the backdrop.

Findings
A general observation based on the selfies collected for this research, is that
the conceptualizations made by Dinhopl and Gretzel (2016) about travellers
redirecting their touristic gaze onto themselves and presenting the self in very
stylized ways, were largely confirmed. While the traditional “I was here”
photograph of the self in front of an iconic tourist attraction (e.g. Big Ben, the
Tower of Pisa, or the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, DC) exists, it is not very
common. And even when it appears, it often includes the stylized perfor-
mance of the self that was discussed by Dinhopl and Gretzel (for example,
realized through duck face or other poses). In most travel selfies, the destina-
tion does indeed only serve as the background, or prompt, or completely
 #travelselfie: A netnographic study 121
disappears into the location tag or hashtags. Without looking at the meta-data
for the selfie, it is impossible to know where the picture was taken. However, one
has to consider that these selfies are probably not isolated posts but part of a
larger travel narrative in which the destination might or might not be featured in
other ways. Some of the selfies actually took advantage of being able to post
collages of multiple pictures, as this added narrative dimensions directly onto
the selfie. When clicking through to some of the personal pages to confirm
this, the travel selfies were indeed part of a series of travel-related posts.
However, the aesthetics of the posts were so similar to everyday posts that it
was difficult to determine where a trip started and ended.
Another important insight derived from the travel selfies collected, as well
as observations of general Instagram use behaviour, is the large number of
hashtags used. In many cases, these hashtags explicitly frame the travel identity
that is to be communicated. Hashtags such as #solotraveler, #digitalnomad,
#traveladdict, #globetrotter, #wanderlust, #freedomjunkie, #welltraveled and
#adventureseeker are examples of how travellers try to present themselves as
specific types of travellers because they wish to stress that they are not just
regular tourists. These travel identities were sometimes mixed with other iden-
tities, for example #makeupartist, #entrepreneur, #ginger and #vegan. Further,
the genre of the groufie or groupie that was identified as prominent in everyday
Instagram photography by Miller et al. (2016) is evident in the travel selfie con-
text. Camaraderie, friendship, fellowship, and romance are extensively portrayed
in these group selfies. The research was able to identify these general character-
istics as well as specific travel selfie themes, and a number of genres associated
with travel selfies. A discussion of some of these genres follows:

Mundane travel selfies

A remarkably large number of the travel selfies observed on Instagram are
selfies taken ‘travelling’ to, rather than consuming the destination. A common
way in which Instagram users portray themselves when travelling include
selfies taken in airplanes, trains, buses, subways, in front of airports or train
stations, with passports and luggage, waiting, arriving and departing. They
also often refer to the hardship that is being endured, a yearning to be there,
or a regret that they have to leave. Mundane activities undertaken in desti-
nations, such as walking through streetscapes are another popular theme in
such selfies. These selfies seem to fit with social media posters’ apparent need
to be seen as travellers rather than as tourists. They also hint at the possibility
that this photographic practice and use of selfies fill a void, help overcome
awkwardness, or assist in staving off boredom.

Aesthetic/artistic selfies
Instagram affords the use of filters that help make posted photographs look
professional or interesting, because it is expected that Instagram users will
122 Ulrike Gretzel
produce visually stunning pictures. While filters are certainly used in travel
selfies, they do not represent the only way in which travellers seek to beautify
their selfies. Interesting angles and perspectives are extensively used to capture
the audience’s eye. Travel selfies also often only portray parts of the self,
something that would have been frowned upon in traditional travel photo-
graphy. Poses and lighting effects are perfected, which is very different from
the usual travel snapshot. The culture of selfies means that one can take
endless pictures of the self until the perfect shot is achieved without making
others hold their poses or wait. In many ways, these selfies hint at the very
selective posting on Instagram and the careful curation of online identities
mentioned in the literature. This could also be the reason for why there is a
lack of so-called ‘action shots’. Only a few selfies showing travellers while
paragliding or zip-lining were found. Another possible explanation is that
many action shots are probably portrayed on video and are shared on other
platforms (Dinhopl and Gretzel, 2015).

Animal selfies
Animals such as camels, kangaroos, deer, whale sharks, and dogs sometimes
provide the necessary twist in the selfie that allows it to be different from
others. This especially relates to cute or especially rare animals. For some
destinations, animal selfies have become iconic, such as the genre of Quokka
selfies from Rottnest Island in Australia (Nationalgeographic.com, 2015)
where Quokkas are now being described as “selfie-loving animals”. Some-
times these animal selfies include animal sculptures/stuffed animals (for
example a giant moose or bear displayed at the destination). These selfies
represent continuity in earlier conventions of tourist photography as being
portrayed with local wildlife is a traditional way of consuming animals as
attractions, and self-portraits with animals have of course become formulaic
and institutionalized (for example paying extra to get a picture of oneself
cuddling a koala).

Sunglass selfies
Sunglasses are essential travel accessories and often used in stereotypical
portrayals of tourists. However, these selfies are not of people who happen to
wear sunglasses, but are rather self-portraits in which the sunglasses are
emphasized. This is often the case for aesthetic reasons as the often-colourful
sunglass surfaces add specific colour tones to the selfies, or enable one to
display interesting perspectives gained through the reflections visible in the
glasses. Sunglasses further add a coolness factor that is desirable when
portraying the self on Instagram. Sunglass selfies are often accompanied by
hashtags that refer to the specific brands or #glasses, #sunglassselfie, and
#cool.
 #travelselfie: A netnographic study 123
Panoramic selfies
When destinations appear in selfies, they often appear in the form of panoramic
landscapes and grand, unidentifiable vistas. These panoramas serve as ideal
backdrops for featuring the self. The destination is used as the ‘wallpaper’ that
elevates the self, which is presented in the foreground (see Figure 7.1). While
traditional lookout points were compositionally constructed to direct the touristic
gaze into the distance, the panoramic selfie focuses the gaze onto the selfie-taker.
This is true for the selfie-taker (who has his/her back to the view) as well as the
social media audience that consumes the selfie.

Drinks selfies
A surprising finding of the research is the absence of food in travel selfies.
Kozinets, Patterson and Ashman (2016) provide a possible explanation for
this phenomenon in their netnographic research on foodporn posted on social
media: this is the development of social norms that food is to be displayed on
social media in pristine conditions and without any reference to those con-
suming it. The personal Instagram pages confirmed this assumption: food was
included but never featured the self or any other people in it. In contrast,
travel selfies often portray their subjects in the act of consuming or holding
drinks. These drinks are either local specialities or champagne, cocktails or
coffee (especially Starbucks) and allow travellers to perform certain identities.
According to Rokka (2015, p. 114), social media images, and especially selfies,
“express social-material-bodily configurations and ideologies … [and] effec-
tively perform, generate and project potentialities of the self”, and this is very
evident in this type of travel selfie.

Figure 7.1 Groufie with grand vista taken at Praça do Papa in Belo Horizonte, Brazil
Source: Author
124 Ulrike Gretzel
Ironic selfies
Dinhopl and Gretzel (2016) suggest that parodies of travel selfies are another
way in which to make one’s selfie stand out. The Instagram data shows this is
achieved in a number of different ways. First, there are travel selfies that display
the act of selfie-taking, either through mirrors or reflective surfaces. Second,
there are selfies of selfies (‘selfies squared’) that show others taking selfies
within the selfie, or have someone take a picture of oneself while taking a selfie.
One Instagrammer describes her selfie-selfie as follows: “I call this one: Selfie
within a selfie within a torii … within a dream”. Third, there are selfies in
which explicit mugging for the camera occurs. Last, there are critical selfies that
mock the constructedness and increased institutionalization of selfie-taking. For
instance, one selfie shows the feet of a traveller (a so-called footie) standing on
a plaque that marks the spot with “Best selfie of Edinburgh Castle”.

Contemplative selfies
While Dinhopl and Gretzel (2016) argue that selfies redirect the tourist gaze
away from the destination and onto the self, the Instagram data suggests that this
is not always the case. Some of the selfies show the travellers gazing at the des-
tination, often with their backs to the camera (which is facilitated by selfie-sticks,
timers or asking others to take the selfie). At times in these versions the gaze is
directed away to the side or the distance, featuring a contemplative look, or are
occasionally accompanied by profound statements in the description of the selfie
or the hashtags. Rather than directly engaging with the social media audience
through eye contact, these selfies redirect the viewers’ gazes to either consume
the traveller as an object or to consume what the traveller is consuming. The
self-portrayed in these selfies is therefore objectified to some degree, or is at
least less immediate or directly engaged with the viewing subject.

Conclusion
While the popular press is full of stories about ‘daredevil’, ‘killer’ or ‘ultimate’
selfies gone wrong (for example Rolling Stone, 2016), there was no evidence in
the Instagram #travelselfie data of travellers trying to make their selfies special
by putting themselves into especially adventurous or dangerous situations.
Instead, following the spirit of Instagram, their travel selfies often depict the
mundane or are simply self-portraits, but these are made interesting through
the use of alternative gazes, angles, filters, expressions, and compositions.
They are clearly carefully curated representations of the self and are central
elements in the travel-related narratives communicated via social media.
These efforts in interesting self-representations is further supported by the
many hashtags that are added to the selfie.
Travel selfies also seem to at least partly break traditional hermeneutic circles
associated with touristic representations (Caton and Santos, 2008). Rather
 #travelselfie: A netnographic study 125
than depicting the iconic sites promoted by the travel industry and photo-
graphed by other travellers, the quest for the extraordinary and the need to be
different, in order to harness acceptable amounts of likes, appears to encourage
creators to put a twist on selfies that they take at iconic destinations. This
sensibility feeds into the form of ironic selfies that are essentially parodies of
other travel selfies. Communicating a sense of individuality was definitely a
central preoccupation in the selfies analysed.
The desire to be seen as cool was evident in the Instagram travel selfies studied.
Whether in the form of the sunglass selfies, or the contemplative selfies that
portray the traveller as so immersed in the experience that they cannot be both-
ered to engage with their social media audiences, these travellers clearly want to
be admired. In such cases, the self is often elevated through impressive backdrops.
Hashtags that identified them as avid travellers also fit within this schema.
What is also important to note is that besides these interesting and unique
aspects of Instagram travel selfies, there is also continuity with traditional
travel photography. Pictures taken in front of attractions or signage as well as
wildlife ‘trophy’ shots are very familiar ways in which travellers depict their
experiences. It is also crucial to highlight the need to understand these selfies
within larger contexts of social media photograph sharing (for example food
photo conventions). While the research tried to examine the travel selfie’s role
as embedded in overall travel and self-narratives, it was only able to scratch
the surface of this topic. Further research is clearly needed to provide a more
holistic view of travel selfie-taking within larger self-representation/impression
management projects.

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the visual. Visual Studies 25(1), pp. 125–134.
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This page intentionally left blank
Part III
Cultural precincts, events and
managing tourist and community
expectations
This page intentionally left blank
8 The creative turn
Cultural tourism at Australian convict
heritage sites
Susan Carson and Joanna Hartmann

Introduction
In recent decades, tourism scholars have analysed tourism in the context of
local, global and neoliberal economies. More significantly, they have drawn
on a number of related fields such as business, psychology, information tech-
nology, the social sciences and social theory in the humanities, to expand
their understanding of the cultural and social impact of this pervasive leisure
activity. These new directions have been evidenced in the nomenclature used
by tourist researchers that has recently emerged, including ‘the critical turn’
(Bianchi, 2009), and the ‘cultural moment’ (Smith, Waterton and Watson,
2012). The impact of sociological theory, for example, on tourism studies was
examined in detail by Erik and Scott Cohen (2012) including a focus on
‘performativity and actor-networks’ and Kevin Hannam (2008) wrote about
the turn towards ‘mobilities’.
Here we wish to build on these directions to think about a ‘creative turn’ in
cultural tourism that involves managers, tourists, hosts and resident commu-
nities that re-work or fictionalise aspects of the past for contemporary visitor
consumption. In this process of heritage re-creation the power dynamics that
exist between producers and consumers has been changing, as tourists seek to
curate their own version of a tourist engagement, or at least use the infra-
structure provided by locations and providers to tailor an individual response
to a location or cultural tourism event. It is true that the creative experience is
placed on ‘offer’ by a provider and increasingly made available by technologies
controlled by global organizations, but today’s visitor still perceives, and often
demands, a higher degree of agency in this type of cooperative relationship.
Examining these curated relationships demands new methodologies and
approaches to understand how contemporary cultural tourism operates. In
this chapter we refer to Foucauldian approaches, among others, in relation to
two World Heritage Sites in Australia to comment on the way in which new
methodologies are emerging from the intersection of economic demands,
governance and community. This chapter speaks to a methodological goal of
recognizing and explicating the competing agendas that are associated with
historic cultural tourism sites. In this context of rapidly shifting relationships,
132 Susan Carson and Joanna Hartmann
collaborations between provider and consumer are constantly being re-negotiated
to meet changing expectations about tourism from consumers and commu-
nities. Although the sites under discussion are World Heritage listed the issues
examined stray outside of the heritage framework. The mix of overlapping,
and often layered, activities at Cockatoo Island (Sydney, New South Wales)
and the Port Arthur Historic Sites (Tasmania), represent increasingly diverse
cultural tourism programs that connect with ‘cultural convenors’ who are
placed within government organizations, as well as the volunteers who watch
entry to the sites, the artists and performers who use the spaces, and the
tourists who visit the sites. In this ontological framing, attention is placed on
the ways in which imaginative and material aspects of these tourism sites are
both subject to, and an outcome of, a number of competing discourses.1

Methodology
The chapter combines qualitative analysis and semi-structured interviews.
Given the emphasis on the broader cultural tourism issues at stake, the
methodologies include selective cultural studies theories, as well as the work
of tourism and heritage scholars. The interviews were conducted with repre-
sentatives of the Sydney Harbour Federation Trust, which is the body
responsible to the New South Wales Government in Australia for managing
Cockatoo Island. The Port Arthur material is based on analyses of published
plans and programs, as well as scholarly material published about Port
Arthur. We also consulted 2016 Trip Advisor entries for the sites, accepting
that the latter sources offer immediacy, but may represent a narrow visitor
population, and bearing in mind that social media reports are themselves
performative acts (as is the process of analysing the material). The interviews
were conducted in early 2016 as part of a wider examination of the histories of
Cockatoo (archival, cultural and political).
Cockatoo Island and Port Arthur are of interest because they represent a
unique ‘mix’ of operations, agendas and expectations, with a substantial local
community and political presence in their respective regions. Cockatoo Island
is an important site that possesses nineteenth-century convict heritage and
twentieth-century industrial heritage. The island contains built heritage from
the convict era and extensive landscape and building remnants of its time as a
shipbuilding centre. It is also a popular entertainment venue for an array of
creative industries’ performances, and is a stop on the Sydney Harbour ferry
routes that tourists take to explore the harbour and the city of Sydney from a
water vantage point. The island’s position as a site of colonization and heritage,
together with its position as a contemporary tourist location in a world-famous
waterway, means the island sits figuratively, imaginatively and spatially at the
conflux of contemporary politics and culture in that city.
Although Cockatoo Island and Port Arthur were included in the UNESCO
Australian Convict Sites listing in 2010, the sites differ substantially in terms
of convict ruins, post-convict histories and contemporary use. Port Arthur in
 Australian convict heritage sites 133
Tasmania is perhaps the best-known convict site in Australia and contains a
greater number of buildings than the ruins found on Cockatoo Island. It is
also the site of a 1996 gun massacre when a single gunman killed 35 people and
a further 32 were injured. The massacre attracted international headlines and
had profound political and cultural implications for Australia because the
tragedy initiated a reform of gun law legislation. What has become known as
‘the Port Arthur massacre’ has not displaced the site as a premier tourism
destination, or indeed the primacy of convict heritage for visitors, but it has
irrevocably changed the nature of tourist engagement. Elspeth Frew states that:

[T]he Port Arthur Historic Settlement reflects the multifaceted and complex
connections between people and places whereby the site was initially an
imperial penal establishment, then reconfigured as a bucolic rural village,
and later embraced as a national memorial to the role of convict
punishment, colonial exile, and unfree labour (Frew, 2012, p. 45).

In different ways, the sites discussed here are subject to a type of worldwide
heritage culture that Tim Winter describes as “one that is expected to fulfil a
multitude of ends” (Winter, 2013, p. 536). Winter and Daly argued for a
deeper examination of such expectations, stating that the ascendency of this
culture “needs to be read, in part, as an expression of contemporary social
and political life and shifting modes of governance, and, in part due to the
formation of identities and economies tied to new modes of post-industrial,
globalised capital” (Winter and Daly, 2012, p. 536). These sites well illustrate
these complexities in heritage management and the competing narratives that
operate in the growing Australian cultural tourism sector.

Performativity in cultural tourism

At both Cockatoo and Port Arthur tourists, hosts and a string of inter-
locutors jostle for recognition. In these tourism scenarios it appears that the
balance of power has recently shifted to the tourist who seeks a tourism
experience that meets their own expectations of the event or journey, whether
it is becoming immersed in a creative production or moving between guided
tours and self-guided travel. Foucault’s ideas are of interest given his attention
to uncovering the layers and direction of power in institutions and, in the
context of this chapter, his examination of the structures of power in prisons.
John Urry used Foucault to draw attention to the social and cultural relations
of power in tourism in The tourist gaze (1990). Cheong and Miller (2000)
extended the discussion to develop ideas about the importance of prominent
‘agents’ in touristic power (p. 386), while Bianchi writes about Urry’s use of
Foucault to contest the notion that “power is uni-directional or exclusively
associated with the tourist” (Bianchi, 2009).
This chapter however is principally concerned with the ‘performing’ of
cultural tourism, and argues that such performativity plays into the shifting
134 Susan Carson and Joanna Hartmann
relationships between stakeholders in a contemporary tourism venture that is
part of a heritage location. Erik and Scott Cohen’s distinction between ‘perfor-
mance’ and ‘performativities’ is pertinent because the former implies a staged
event, and the latter a dynamic act of public engagement in which power
slides between the producer of an event and the tourist performer. For the Cohens,
‘performativities’ refers to both a “strategic means of self-representation” and
the use of non-lingual symbolic acts such as gestures. Performativities are
therefore important in the production of “destinations, attractions or
events … as dynamic products of the performative acts of the public” (Cohen
and Cohen, 2012, p. 2182). This sense of ‘performativity’ is used as a frame-
work in this discussion because it demonstrates the way in which power is
attached to an individual’s mobile engagement with a site. As David Crouch
(2012) said “the idea of performativity positions our practices, actions, rela-
tions, memories, performative moments as emerging contexts too” (in Smith,
Waterton and Watson, The Cultural Moment, p. 21).
At the convict sites the question of performativity is important as planners
and managers compete with other cultural tourism sites for visitors. At
Cockatoo Island we see a mix of ‘performances’ in staged displays and guided
activities, and ‘performativities’ in the crowds at music and art festivals, or
individuals who attempt to create their own response to the site. Michel de
Certeau (1984) saw power in a different way to Foucault, insisting that the
public will inevitably subvert an authorized use of space because individuals
employ ‘tactics’ to create an unauthorized and personal route through a
space. This reclamation of power is in operation at Cockatoo Island and Port
Arthur as the following analyses reveal.

Cockatoo Island and Port Arthur Historic Sites (PAHS): An overview

Cockatoo Island is a 17.9 hectare sandstone outcrop in Sydney Harbour, and
is located about a 20-minute ferry ride from the centre of Sydney, the capital city
of New South Wales. It is the largest island in Sydney Harbour. Since European
settlement in 1788, the island has hosted a convict prison, a reformatory for
wayward girls, an industrial school for orphaned and neglected females, and a
shipbuilding centre. It is also home to the only remaining convict-built dry
dock in Australia and contains the nation’s most extensive record of ship-
building. Today, the shipbuilding heritage is growing in importance, not only
for heritage managers, but also to the Sydney communities whose families
once worked on the docks, and who have become key stakeholders in heritage
planning. Over time the site has been characterised by a range of dominant
narratives supported by different interest groups: the convict heritage, the
shipbuilding yard, and Sydney-based arts festivals. Indeed, the physical profile
of the island represents this cross-sectional history: the remnants of penal life
at the top of the island sit overlooking a re-formed shipbuilding landscape
that changed the geography of an island where the foreshore hosts ‘glamping’
tents for tourists who want the ultimate view of Sydney Harbour.
 Australian convict heritage sites 135
Port Arthur, described on the Port Arthur Historic Sites website as one of
“Australia’s most important heritage sites and tourist destinations” (Port
Arthur Historic Site, 2016) is said to house the best-preserved convict heritage
in the country. In this study, we refer to Port Arthur Historic Site as that
which lies 16 kilometres south-east of Hobart, bearing in mind that the
Port Arthur Historic Sites Management Authority, (PAHSMA), a government
enterprise, also manages two other historic sites in Tasmania under the banner of
PAHS. At Port Arthur there is an open-air museum, heritage buildings, and
ruins, such as the Separate Prison, which represent different stages of site history
that visitors see via guided walks, museum and a number of self-guided tours in
which the visitor follows the story of a particular convict.2 Port Arthur is of
interest here because it possesses a discernible linear chronology similar to
that of Cockatoo: a convict-era punishment facility (1830–1877), an industrial
prison and a shipbuilding yard.
The PAHSMA website states that the Site has been represented in publications
as the “successful marriage of conservation and tourism operations” (Port
Arthur Historic Site Management Authority, 2016). The 1996 Port Arthur
massacre dramatically amended the convict narrative of Port Arthur. Since 1996
Port Arthur is often associated with the massacre in both overt and covert ways,
although the convict heritage is still the dominant rationale for most visitors to
the site. The tragedy did not diminish tourist numbers (a record number of
306,750 visitors arrived in 2014–2015), but the nature of Port Arthur tourism
was altered. Tourists continue to visit primarily to see the convict buildings and
learn about that era in Australian history, but there are a substantial number of
visitors who attend to memorialize the events of 1996 (Preece and Price, 2005).
With the ‘mix’ of earlier uses, the more recent memorialization, and the tensions
that this re-visiting of 1996 events generates in some sectors, the way in which
tourism is ‘performed’ on this site has changed. Some visitors engage in a per-
sonal itinerary that deviates from the usual paths around the convict buildings by
attending the partially screened Memorial Garden that provides a quiet space of
contemplation for those wishing to remember the massacre.
At Port Arthur, there are a series of competing narratives that involve
attempts to balance local community sensitivities. Many would prefer that the
1996 massacre be left behind; others express a desire to pay respect to a tragic
event; and there are others who want to satisfy curiosity. In this scenario the
physical and imaginary spaces of the sites are subject to competing discourses
that circle and inform chronological layers of historic activity. At both Cockatoo
Island and Port Arthur, the dominant discourse of convictism is altered as other
histories are discovered or produced in the gaps between institutionalized
knowledge, whether it is a discourse of reverence at Port Arthur (Preece and
Price, 2005, p. 196), or less publicized discourses of resistance on Cockatoo
Island.3
Cockatoo Island exemplifies Foucault’s ‘scopic eye’ as it was chosen as a
jail site for convicts by Governor George Gipps due to its proximity to Sydney
Cove. It was a place where convicts could be ‘under the eye of authority’ as
136 Susan Carson and Joanna Hartmann
the then-isolated site “offered security for the people of Sydney while allowing
easy supervision by the colonial administration” (Sydney Harbour Federation
Trust, 2010, p.18). Today, many of the buildings constructed during this
period, including the silos, a military guardhouse, solitary confinement cells
and the mess hall are available for tourists to explore. This suggests that the
buildings are now under the ‘scopic eye’ of tourism, or perhaps, as Keith
Hollinshead and Vannsy Kuon argue, they belong to the scopic drive of
tourism in which ‘the gaze’ becomes ‘the act’ and “the deed (praxis) of
knowing” (Hollinshead and Kuon, 2013, p. 1).
In Tasmania, the Port Arthur Separate Prison offers a pertinent exemplar
of the way in which ideas about surveillance are re-interpreted for con-
temporary consumption. This prison, which is part of the penitentiary com-
plex, was based on a ‘Model Prison’ of isolation developed in the United
States, later adopted in England, with a version subsequently built at Port
Arthur in 1849–1850. The Separate Prison is based on isolation rather than
surveillance, but demonstrates connections to philosopher and social reformer
Jeremy Bentham’s panopticon that was famously analysed by Foucault. Since
2003, the penitentiary buildings, including the Separate Prison, have under-
gone significant conservation in order to stabilize the structures and include
interpretative works for contemporary tourism. While there are many inter-
pretative installations in the complex, the digitized historical information
about individual convicts represents an interesting excursion into the re-
inscription of surveillance that speaks to Hollinshead’s and Kuon’s drive of
tourist enactment.

Cockatoo Island
This Island is a site of overlapping discourses in which certain narratives are
dominant. For instance, convictism and the shipbuilding history are important
drawcards for visitors. There are, however, other histories and narratives that
have been elided as attention has been understandably focused on priority
areas for visitation and conservation. One such story is that of the ‘Biloela
girls’, the inmates of the Biloela Reformatory for Females and the Biloela
Industrial School for Girls who in 1871 occupied the by then disused prison.
The Biloela girls’ story provides particularly interesting narratives for con-
temporary tourist consumption, but this history has been subsumed by other
tourist management priorities to date. The Biloela institution catered to girls
deemed at risk of criminality, neglect or abuse in the colony. Girls were
housed in the former prison barracks and mess hall, and in an old overseer’s
cottage, all of which were located on top of the island’s steep sandstone knoll.
There were many instances of dissident behaviour and unrest as girls physically
resisted discipline by attacking staff, as well as their dwellings. Many of the
Biloela girls were incarcerated because they were vagrants, street workers, or
petty thieves, and assumptions were made about their morality, criminality
and uncertain future role in the community. The administrators’ attitudes to
 Australian convict heritage sites 137

Figure 8.1 Military guardhouse, convict precinct, Cockatoo Island

Photo: Zakarij Kaczmarek

the girls, particularly during the institutions’ early years when conditions were
especially harsh and there was severe overcrowding, resembled the brutalities
of penal regimes.
In 2013, the stories of the girls became the basis of a performance at the
island where visitors were able to access an interactive audio drama, called
Ghosts of Biloela. This is now a story-telling app for visitors. Developed for
an arts festival, the app uses geolocation to tie the girls’ stories to the island.
A creative team for the Underbelly Arts Festival developed an audio play
using verbatim transcripts from a Royal Commission into Public Charities
that investigated the Biloela institutions because “the visitor feels that they
are hopefully participating in the story … you can whisper in the listener’s
ear” (Australian Broadcasting Corporation, 2013). The play was recorded on
location as well as in a studio to capture the natural sounds and reverbera-
tions based on the many riots and rebellions that appear in transcripts of
verbatim interview records with the girls. The Biloela girls’ narrative emerged
as a marginal but viable history among its other heritage narratives, and was
transferred into a performance for tourists who were expected to “become
part of their story” (Australian Broadcasting Corporation, 2013) by walking
around and inspecting the stone convict prison rooms that were used to house
the girls. Listeners entered into their own relationship with the past and
engaged with the girls’ history as part of their ‘Cockatoo performativity’,
their own Island experience. Visitors were encouraged to play the role of
being a ‘new girl’ to the reformatory so they could actively participate in the
narrative and choose their own path in a type of ‘choose-your-own-adventure
format’. For some visitors, this history is new and will provide an entry point
138 Susan Carson and Joanna Hartmann
to the “pain and agony, not the current story of pleasure and delight” one
finds in other arts festival experiences (Australian Broadcasting Corporation,
2013). The original audio play now is now available on a phone app that “is
more ghostly and a bit more like Harry Potter, and little less like The Shaw-
shank Redemption” according to writer Que Minh Luu, after an earlier version
was found to be “too bleak and dark” (Power, 2016).

Performing at the Port Arthur Historic Sites

The Port Arthur Historic Site is a collection of 30 convict buildings, restored
houses and ruins situated on 40 hectares of land in south-east Tasmania. Port
Arthur’s tourism has focused on convict heritage, and the PAHSMA regularly
wins national tourism and heritage awards. In this context, there is an array
of ‘performances’ for tourists that can involve night tours or following the
narrative of a convict (for example, a playing card is given to each visitor with
the identity of a convict whose story can be accessed at various points on the
site). Given the importance of Port Arthur to Australian colonial history, and
the site’s status as the best-preserved convict heritage in Australia, it is not
surprising that it has attracted significant heritage funding for extensive con-
servation over a long period of time. It has a “multilayered history” in “its
ongoing role as a popular tourist destination” (Frew, 2012, p. 45), but as
Elspeth Frew acknowledges, the tragic events of 1996 “have added a significant
dimension to the site” (p. 45).
After a period of community debate in which divergent stakeholders’ opinions
were expressed about how to memorialize the massacre on the site, and how to
interpret the event in relation to convict history, the Port Arthur Memorial
Committee decided to build a physical memorial as a living reminder of those
who died “just as the remnants of the convict buildings are to be gleaned
from reading a plaque or looking at a photograph” (Frew, 2012, p. 39). The
Broad Arrow Café, where the majority of people were murdered, was partly
demolished after the event, and the remainder of the building has been left to
commemorate the site. The Port Arthur Memorial Garden was completed in
2000, and is dominated by a Reflective Pool. It is in a secluded place out of
the direct line of sight associated with the heritage infrastructure. Indeed tour
guides are requested “not to mention the massacre whilst on-site” (Frew,
2012, p. 43) and Frew notes how the heritage managers have “avoided making
the site a voyeuristic dark tourism attraction” (p. 46).
Tourism managers play vital roles in determining the authoritative narra-
tives in tourist sites, and these narratives often become the dominant modes
of story-telling and guidance for visitors. As Edensor reminds us, tourist
spectacles are “contextualized for visitors by the professional interpreters of
‘customized’ travel” (Edensor, 2000, p. 73). Guidebooks give clues as to what
to look for, says Edensor, and function as a type of ‘master script’ for tourists
(p. 73). As de Certeau mentioned, visitors sometimes tactically avoid or sub-
vert this authorized performance of tourism, but it is also the case that the
 Australian convict heritage sites 139
‘authority’ can resist tourist demands that do not conform to the provider’s
notions of narrated heritages. At Port Arthur, the PAHMS website FAQ page
answers the question “Why don’t staff dress up in costume?” with an answer
that stresses that dressing up staff in convict and other costumes would turn
the experiences of those imprisoned into light entertainment, adding:

Many visitors have enjoyed this style of presentation at other sites and say that
they would like to see it at Port Arthur Historic Site. But Port Arthur is not
a theme park. It is a real place with a dark and difficult history (PAHMS).

On the same page another visitor FAQ stated: “Will staff tell us about the
massacre?” and the visitor is advised to read a plaque at the Memorial
Garden or a brochure rather than ask staff because “Many of our staff lost
close friends, colleagues and family members on that day, and understandably
find it difficult and painful to talk about” (PAHMS). Some tourists, at least
some who write on Trip Advisor, offer muted resistance to the PAHSM
rationale regarding the massacre, but in the main visitors respect this directive.
The performative acts of the public are expressed in their willingness to ‘see’
Port Arthur because the site is deemed to be important, even if the visitor has
no particular interest in convict history, but because the site is a ‘must see’ on
the Tasmanian tourism itinerary, as demonstrated in tourists’ responses on
Trip Advisor to questions about why they drive from Hobart to the site. Once
at the site, visitors appear to engage with the staged representations of convict
history, but also express surprise at the richness of the site and the beauty of
the landscape. Their performativity swings from what might be described as
passive destination tourist mode to a more active engagement with the site’s
narratives. Research by Tanaya Preece and Garry G. Price (2005) found that
the “need to pay their respects to those affected by the tragedy became
stronger once participants were actually on site, an outcome of affective
learning” (Preece and Price, 2005, p. 194).

Tourism today
Port Arthur must manage the competing narratives of convictism and mem-
orialization. In contrast, Cockatoo Island faces competition between the
demands of event tourism and heritage conservation, as commentary from
Cockatoo Island visitors and the interviews with Sydney Harbour Federation
Trust (SHFT) staff indicate. The Island is now a destination location with a
wide diversity of tourist and heritage activities, ranging from self-guided
heritage tours, to art events staged in contemporary performance spaces.
Apart from the original convict-built prison barracks, guardhouse and a
dock, a large part of the island’s physical area is taken up by the former naval
dockyard and ship-building complex. The convict barracks and colonial
housing sits on an upper plateau on the island while the industrial heritage,
including docks and shipyards, is at sea level where the entertainment areas
140 Susan Carson and Joanna Hartmann

Figure 8.2 Cockatoo Island campground

Photo: Zakarij Kaczmarek

and camping ground are located. The landform is marked by docks, silos and
tunnels, which were cut into the sandstone in earlier times. This mix of uses has
meant that visitors arrive for multiple reasons at different times of the year so
that the performance of convict narratives or shipbuilding history exhibitions
exists in conjunction with camping at sites where tourists can watch the annual
Sydney Harbour New Year’s Eve fireworks displays, get married in the convict
workshops, or follow one of the convict or maritime trails.
Sydney Harbour Federation Trust management says that a co-production
strategy between events and heritage meant that “events were our public
awareness driver and enabler for many years” (Carson, Hartmann and Beashel,
2016). In 2008 the ‘staged performance’ aspect of Cockatoo’s offering was
initiated when SHFT partnered with the Biennale of Sydney, a major arts festival,
to host some of the activities of the Sydney festival on Cockatoo Island. The
inclusion of this type of festival event attracted an increase in visitation from
to the Island from 14,000 visitors in 2006–2007 to 100,000 visitors in 2008.
The challenge for the SHFT became one of juxtaposing the ‘event’ and the
‘island’ with its premier location:

[Event visitors] think [the island is] almost as interesting as the event
itself. So when we do our research, when we have done it in the past on
the island, and it has predominately been during events, the question will
come back that people love the location as much as whatever is happening
in it … It’s a complicated place really when you start opening up pieces
like this; there are just so many different parts that go into it … that’s
what makes it special as well and so intriguing … And where we’re at
 Australian convict heritage sites 141
now is we’re definitely still committed to partnerships like the Biennale
because they’re able to bring in the professional workforce to be able to
resource it. There’s quite a big focus now just generally in the events
sphere and the cultural events sphere, about compliance and risk, and it’s
completely changing from when we first opened the island … but what
we’re really more focused on is interpretation and visitor experience
(Carson, Hartmann, and Beashel, 2016).

The question of the mix of attractions at the island is critical to future

management directions since research has indicated that the island is now a
well-known destination, as stated:

It’s the combination of the whole experience, so things like the convicts
and the layers of history generally, but then also the combination of the
campground and having the bar and café where you can eat and drink, you
can have a little staycation near where you live or on Friday after work, it
seems to be a combination (Carson, Hartmann, and Beashel, 2016).

Convict heritage remains a top priority for the island’s heritage managers.
Future planning involves a collaborative approach with other World Heritage
sites in Sydney (Hyde Park Barracks and Government House, Parramatta) to
position the location as part of a combined experience. This connectivity
obeys economic as well as organizational and cultural imperatives that can be
observed in many other countries. As Tim Winter notes, a linking approach is
pursued “aggressively” in some countries, and “the tensions between commu-
nity-based needs and the institutional need to preserve the heritage itself is
apparent in fast growing regions” (Winter, 2013, p. 539). Countries such as
Turkey, China or Abu Dhabi are now “connecting landed heritage ‘proper-
ties’ from museums to archaeological sites to national programmes of socio-
economic development” (Winter, 2013, p. 539).
In Australia, convictism provides a powerful link between heritage and
tourism. This site, like so many other heritage locations, is subject to the
demands of a tourist requiring mobile experiences, as Melanie Smith argued
(2009, p. 195). This time-pressured visitor is invested in escapism, entertainment,
new technology and values integrating their own story with the dominant
narratives of a site as an expression of performativity. The site has also been
integrated into tours that feature other attractions such as Hobart’s Museum
of Old and New Art (now the premier attraction in Tasmania) and Bruny
Island. At various historic locations at Port Arthur conservation works and
archaeological excavations are in progress, and tourists follow signs, read
spoken word and publications, and view plays, art, films about these activities.4
Weddings can take place in the ruins of a convict-built church where only the
outer walls remain. This mix of staged historical and contemporary personalized
scripts dominates narratives of Port Arthur, while the event that achieved
international headlines in 1996 sits eerily to one side of the tourist experience.
142 Susan Carson and Joanna Hartmann
In 2002 Preece and Price began interviewing 24 visitors to the site who indi-
cated their motivations were “earning, historical interest and fascination with
the abnormal and bizarre” (Preece and Price, 2005, p. 193).5
The recent feedback about the site that has appeared on Trip Advisor
indicates that visitors value the convict heritage and the landscape, and are
positive about the designation of World Heritage status. Most visitors appre-
ciated the restraint and quiet of the memorial about the massacre. Many noted
that site staff did not speak about the massacre, and references to the 1996
event were rare. Some understood this reticence as a way of downplaying the
event in the overall history of the site. Few considered, or at least referred to
the pain the local community still feels in relation to this event. For both
Cockatoo Island and Port Arthur, heritage tourism is implicated in shifting
discourses at sites that symbolize changing events and their attendant power
structures. With the advance of participatory tourism goals and post-tourist
demands power appears to be increasingly negotiated between the ‘prosumer’,
who takes part in the event of heritage and the heritage managers who are
charged with supporting a particular selection of narratives. For example,
residents of Sydney who were former employees in the Island’s ship-building
industry are now key stakeholders in Cockatoo Island conservation and
exhibition activities. Many of the former employees and their families visit the
Island and they encouraged SHFT to produce the ‘Shipyard Stories’ exhibition
which presents stories and images of the island’s dockyard and shipbuilding
history. In this instance, power was shifted to the domestic tourist, both in
terms of prompting SHFT to collect stories, photographs and memories from
community members, and also because due to popular demand management
later decided to make the exhibition a permanent fixture.
This is a win-win situation, as the economic returns from attracting a
diverse tourist population can fund essential conservation works. Yet attracting
different tourist populations to staged performances develops a tourist per-
formativity that is somewhat diverse if the Trip Advisor responses are an
indication. In the studies discussed here some institutions have preferred to
invest in certain types of performance to signify heritage, (a front-stage
activity) while recognising that there is a large tourist market in developing
more individualistic relationships that may involve entertainment as well as
learning experiences. Tensions over this type of clash of representations are of
course global. For example, Jonathan Meades notes the global propensity for
tourism authorities to present ‘sightbites’ of the past in UAE countries in
which:

[T]raditional garb has taken on businessy, corporate connotations;

‘heritage villages’ have sprung up across the region, acting as avatars of
demolished cities. Ancient activities such as falconry have taken on
second lives on Instagram, where young men have enthusiastically curated
their identities by adopting the more prestigious sightbites of Bedouin life
(Meades, 2015, p. 336).
 Australian convict heritage sites 143
Conclusion
The examination of the Port Arthur and Cockatoo Island sites show that each
site demonstrates changing circulations of power between different stakeholders
in the tourist experience but that this circulation of power is productive: the
competing discourses extend what is known and understood about the sites.
The visitor constantly moves between an array of heritage and entertainment
possibilities. Sydney is a city that uses its harbour geography as a stage for
spectacles, such as arts and the performance of past histories, to connect with
the globalized centre of the city. In the case of Port Arthur, it has had to
connect with new forms of tourism that link the ‘dark history’ of the convict
era with a contemporary tragedy, although this connection may be unwanted
and ill-advised from a community perspective.
Jack Bowring in a study of Hart Island (New York), Ripapa Island
(Christchurch) and Cockatoo Island suggests that there may be an argument
for a heritage site “flying just below the radar” to ensure heritage longevity.
He argues that for Cockatoo Island:

The darkness of the island’s past is shuffled off, as it becomes gentrified

as a new destination in Sydney Harbour … Cockatoo Island signals this
very danger, where the reconceptualisation of the island as big, surprising
and entertaining suggests such threats are imminent” (Bowring, 2011,
p. 262).

However, at least in 2016, this threat does not seem to have yet eventuated,
and it is possible to argue that the strengthening of community engagement, as
in the case of the shipyard workers, and the integration of heritage conservation
and arts communities in management decision-making provides a model for a
new type of creative space that is open to emergent forms of power. A May
2016 Trip Advisor comment showed the appeal of the ‘mix’ of options on the
Island in which the tourist went to the island to go geocaching, but in a
‘completely unplanned’ visit, took in the views of Sydney Harbour from a
wine bar and cycled around the island, saying “the audio tour is cheap and
very interesting, although admittedly after the wine bar stop, the tour
became less interesting LOL” (‘Sydney’s own little Alcatraz’). As scholars
have noted, tourism attracts powerful narratives with its own circulations of
power. Tracing the way in which the creative space designed for entertain-
ment co-operates with formal governance processes and heritage require-
ments demands attention to the changing operations of power within the
cultural tourism framework.

Acknowledgements
The authors wish to express their thanks to the Sydney Harbour Federation
Trust representatives for their assistance with this project.
144 Susan Carson and Joanna Hartmann
Notes
1 The interviews with the Sydney Harbour Federation Trust were undertaken after
application to the Queensland University of Technology Human Research Ethics
Committee. The approval number is 1500000282.
2 The Port Arthur Historic Sites also includes the sites of the Coal Mines Historic
Site at Saltwater Creek and the Cascades Female Factory Historic Site, in South
Hobart. The three sites are managed by PAHSMA, hence the reference to ‘Sites’ to
denote the multiple sites involved. All three sites are included on the World Heritage
List as three of the eleven sites that constitute the Australian Convict Sites World
Heritage Property. This chapter however focusses on the site 16 kilometres south-east
of Hobart.
3 In 2005 research indicated that participants to the Port Arthur Historic Site were
motivated by the following: first, a need to learn factual information; second, a
need to sympathize with the ‘underdog’; and third then a need to pay homage to
the departed at the site of the 1996 massacre (Preece and Price, p. 194).
4 Between 1834 and 1849, 3000 boys were sentenced to go to the boys’ prison at Point
Puer. The youngest had just turned nine years old. Located across the harbour from
Port Arthur, Point Puer was the first separate boys’ prison in the British Empire. It
was renowned for its regime of stern discipline and harsh punishment.
5 The authors results “indicated that of the 14 respondents who indicated learning as
a motivational factor for visiting Port Arthur, eight (57 percent of participants) were
largely motivated by the need to learn factual information while six (43 percent)
respondents indicated that affective learning was also an important motivational
factor. The results also showed that, of the respondents who claimed a desire to
learn as the major motivation factor for their visit to Port Arthur, five (62.5 percent)
were also motivated by a need to sympathise with the underdog … . It was also found
that, of the participants who indicated a desire to learn, four (29 percent) indicated a
need to pay homage to the departed at the site of the 1996 massacre. The need to pay
their respects to those affected by the tragedy became stronger once participants were
actually on site, an outcome of affective learning.” (p. 194).

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9 Cultural tourism and the Olympic
movement in Greece
Evangelia Kasimati and Nikolaos Vagionis

Introduction
The modern Olympic Games were first held in Athens in 1896, with subsequent
Games held every four years thereafter. The Games have survived many
trials, including wars and boycotts. In recent years, the interest of countries
and regions in staging the Games has grown because of the perception that
doing so will help attract tourists and generate income, as well as providing
the opportunity to improve the infrastructure of host cities (Kasimati, 2003).
Countries spend significant amounts of money in bidding and, if successful,
in constructing the infrastructure and stadia required to host such events.1
Economists Noll and Zimbalist (1997) and Siegfried and Zimbalist (2000)
however have argued that the economic evaluation of sports venues is weak,
which leads to the overestimation of the economic benefits and under-
estimation of overall costs when making an argument in favour of such pro-
jects. Given the generally high costs associated with the Olympic Games, the
perception that host cities and surrounding regions benefit economically from
these events has therefore come under major scrutiny. As well, longer term
community benefits, and indeed infrastructure promises, are often not forth-
coming. For example, Lynn Minnaert’s paper (2012) on the legacies of seven
Olympic cities indicates that despite the positive effects of new infrastructure
Olympic Games “generally bring few benefits for socially excluded groups”
(Minnaert, p. 361) although recent experiences with refugees and immigrants
to Greece as documented below (see Table 9.1) complicate this picture and
indicate a re-purposing of infrastructure in times of need.
Greece’s successful bid to host the 2004, Twenty-eighth Olympic Games
was announced by Juan Antonio Samaranch, President of the International
Olympic Committee, on 5 September 1997. This positive development, following
an unsuccessful bid to host the 1996 Olympics, inspired the Greek public to
welcome sports to the top of the national agenda when the benefits of sports
were highlighted. There were however also complaints about the enormous drain
on public funds that such a large-scale event would entail (Kissoudi, 2010). For
critics, the Games were viewed as a problematic financial drain, and were met
with hostility by citizens wary of corruption and the misuse of public funds.
Table 9.1 Post-Olympic use of the Greek Olympic venues
Facility Olympics use Current/proposed use
International Broadcasting Centre (IBC) International Broadcast Centre Was leased to the private company Lamda Development SA in
August 2006 and has been converted to a shopping, retail, office
and entertainment complex known as the “Golden Hall”. Will
also become home to the Hellenic Olympic Museum and the
International Museum of Classical Athletics.
Main Press Centre (MPC) Main Press Centre Has been converted to the new headquarters of the Ministry of
Health and Social Security, and the amphitheatre contained
within has hosted numerous ceremonies and public events.
Olympic Village Housing 2,292 apartments were offered at a reduced price to low-income
workers, beneficiaries of the Workers’ Housing Organization. A
modern town of about 10,000 residents was envisaged.
Athens Olympic Stadium (OAKA) Opening and closing ceremonies, Home pitch for Panathinaikos FC, AEK FC (Football: Greek
Track and Field, Football Super League, UEFA Champions League), Greek national foot-
ball team (some matches), International football competitions;
Track and Field events (e.g. IAAF Athens Grand Prix), 2005
Eurovision Song Contest.
Hellinikon Olympic Indoor Arena Basketball, Handball Home court for Panionios BC (basketball), Conventions and
trade shows.
Hellinikon Canoe/Kayak Slalom Centre Canoe/Kayak Turned over to a private consortium (J&P AVAX, GEP, Corfu
Waterparks and BIOTER), plans to convert it to a water park.
Hellinikon Olympic Hockey Centre Field Hockey Accommodation of refugees and immigrants.
Hellinikon Baseball Stadium Baseball Accommodation of refugees and immigrants.
Hellinikon Softball Stadium Softball Concerts.
Facility Olympics use Current/proposed use
Agios Kosmas Olympic Sailing Centre Sailing Turned over to the private sector (Seirios AE), will become
marina with 1,000+ yacht capacity and will be part of Athens'
revitalized waterfront.
Ano Liosia Olympic Hall Judo, Wrestling TV filming facility, future home of the Hellenic Academy of
Culture and Hellenic Digital Archive.
Faliro Sports Handball Converted to the Athens International.
Pavilion Taekwondo Convention Centre, hosts conventions, trade shows and concerts,
such as a concert by the guitarist Gary Moore, the Todo Latino
Salsa Festival and a three-day international Salsa dance festival.
Galatsi Olympic Hall Table Tennis, Rhythmic Gymnastics After 2004, was the home court of AEK BC (basketball) before
the team moved to the Athens Olympic Indoor Hall. Turned over
to the private sector (Acropol Haragionis AE and Sonae Sierra
SGPS S.A), being converted to a shopping mall and retail/enter-
tainment complex.
Markopoulo Olympic Equestrian Centre Equestrian Horse racing, domestic and international Equestrian meets, auto
racing (rally).
Markopoulo Olympic Shooting Centre Shooting Converted to the official shooting range and training centre of
the Hellenic Police.
Nikaia Olympic Weightlifting Hall Weightlifting Has hosted fencing competitions in the years following the
Olympics, but has recently been turned over to the University of
Piraeus for use as an academic lecture and conference centre.
Schinias Olympic Rowing and Canoeing Centre Rowing and Canoeing One of only three FISA-approved training centres in the world,
the others being in Munich and Seville. Hosts domestic and
international rowing and canoeing meets. Part of the Schinias
National Park, completely reconstructed by the German com-
pany Hochtief.
Pagritio Stadium Football Home pitch for OFI FC and Ergotelis FC (Football: Greek Super
League). Hosted the 2005 Greek football All-Star game. Also home
to various track-and-field meets.

Source: Kasimati (2015). Author’s own elaboration

150 Evangelia Kasimati and Nikolaos Vagionis
Greece was the smallest country to stage the Summer Olympics since Finland
in 1952, and the organisers faced the challenge of delivering all the facilities
on time in line with the required standards. After the event, the effect of the
Games on the Greek economy received some academic attention. Kasimati
and Dawson (2009) found that the Olympic Games appeared to have had a
positive impact on the Greek economy. In particular, by developing a small
macroeconometric model of the Greek economy, they found that for the
period 1997–2005 the Games boosted economic activity by around 1.3 per cent
of GDP per year, while unemployment fell by 1.9 per cent per year. The
cumulative GDP increase attributed to the Games over the period 1997–2005
was estimated to be 2.5 times the total preparation cost. Veraros et al. (2004)
found a positive and statistically significant impact on the Athens Stock
Exchange following the announcement of the nomination of Athens to host
the Games in 1997. Papanikos (1999) and Balfousia-Savva et al. (2001),
through their impact assessment studies, calculated GDP growth of between
US$10.1–15.9 billion, new tourist arrivals were predicted to increase from 4.8
to 5.9 million, and 300–445,000 new jobs were to be created.
The 2004 Games provided Athens with an opportunity to acquire world
class sporting venues and accelerated the completion of major infrastructure
upgrades in transportation, telecommunications and other sectors. This
led some commentators (for example, Preuss, 2004) to draw parallels with the
successful Barcelona 1992 Olympics. The cost related to the construction of
sporting facilities was estimated at euro 3.0 billion (Galpin, 2005). An addi-
tional amount of euro 4.2 billion was invested in transportation projects (euro
1.2 billion), communication (euro 1.2 billion), Games security (euro 1.1 billion)
and other infrastructure (euro 0.7 billion). In November 2004, the govern-
ment announced that the Games’ aggregate cost had topped euro 9 billion
(Kasimati and Dawson, 2009).
The post-Games use of the above investments was a challenge for Greece.
It was expected that the Athens Olympics would act as a catalyst for pro-
moting modern sports and culture in Greece, and would thereby benefit the
national economy. As such, the exploitation of first, the Games’ legacy, and
second, the urban infrastructure developed for it, needed to be carefully
planned and incorporated into a long-term strategy that targeted cultural and
economic developments that would have a beneficial impact on the country as
a whole.2 Consequently, the benefits offered by the Games, which would provide
Athenians with a unique opportunity to upgrade the city infrastructure and
acquire new sports facilities to enjoy for years to come, was intended to out-
last the two-week celebration. Harry Hiller (2000) refers to research by
Ritchie and Hall that argues that although a mega-event may be of short
duration it has impact and meaning “far beyond the event itself” for the host
city (p. 439).
However, soon after the 2004 Games, serious questions arose about the
extent of real benefits that could be extracted from the Olympic facilities.
These questions were well founded, as twelve years later some of Athens’
 Athens’s 2004 Olympic infrastructures 151
post-Olympic facilities are still vacant and some of the promised parks and
other infrastructure projects have not materialized. The recent recession and
serious financial shortages that Greece has suffered during the last four to five
years, together with some uncertainty about the future, has aggravated the
process of usefully developing the Olympic facilities, either by the state, or by
domestic and international investors. The plans and spaces however are still
there, and these can be a starting point for integration into a new round of
planning and development procedures for the city.
In the present context, we focus on examining the effects of the Olympic
Games on Athens’s cultural tourism, and the city’s potential to leverage the
Olympic movement in synergy with its rich heritage. For this purpose, the
paper is developed as follows: a discussion of the new sports facilities and the
urban infrastructure developed for the Athens Olympics, as well as the post-
Olympic use of the precious Olympic legacy. Next, we examine cultural
tourism in Greece, arguing for the importance of museums in particular to
the Greek tourist product. Finally, we consider the contribution of the Athens
Olympic Games to Greek cultural tourism and report our conclusions and
reflect on policy implications.

Olympic movement in Greece

Athens summer Olympics: new sports facilities and urban infrastructure

There are two basic conditions that must be satisfied for a city to be eligible
to host the Olympic Games, Firstly, the amount of investment for the city’s
development must be in line with Olympic standards. Secondly, investments
must be in accordance with the urban development concepts of the specific
city. The 2004 Olympic Games presented a great economic and urban
improvement opportunity for the city of Athens. The Games inspired it to
acquire world-class sport facilities, modernize and regenerate the city-centre
and surrounding districts, create a modern transportation system, and develop
projects for greater environmental protection (Synadinos, 2004). It was antici-
pated that these projects would generate a building boom around the metropo-
litan Athens area that would significantly boost the city’s transport options
and networks.
In Athens and the other Greek Olympic Games hosting cities the funding
for infrastructure was provided by the public and private sector, and the
government was responsible for the construction. The total cost was about
3 billion euros: 962 million was financed by the private sector, 1,800 million
by the Greek government, and 242 million from the organising Olympic
committee (Kasimati, 2008; 2015).
Since 1932 the construction of Olympic villages has required long-term
business planning. The 1984 Los Angeles, and the 1996 Atlanta Olympics,
were two exceptions because the student residences of UCLA and Georgia
Tech served as Olympic villages, respectively. The Athens Olympic Village
152 Evangelia Kasimati and Nikolaos Vagionis
was designed with the aspiration to ameliorate environmental and accom-
modation problems. It was located at the foot of Parnitha Mountain and had
the capacity to house 16,000 Olympic athletes and 6,000 Paralympic athletes.
Other Olympic sites that are worth mentioning include the Media Village,
which was built for housing the media and press representatives, and the
International Broadcasting Centre (IBC) that televised the Olympics globally.
All these Olympic constructions were intended to offer world-class sporting
venues for the benefit of the local community and athletes. The 2004 Olympics
was a chance to transform previously-neglected sections of western Athens and
elevate Greece’s international image. The sports facilities that already existed
in Greece and were used for the Olympic Games were the Olympic Sports
Centre, including the Olympic Stadium that seated 72,000 spectators. The
latter was used for the opening and closing ceremonies, and for track and
field events. The Olympic Sports Centre also enclosed a small sporting hall
and outbuildings, an aquatic centre (seating 22,500 people), a velodrome with a
seating capacity of 5,000, a big sporting hall (seating 16,000 people) and a tennis
court which could host 20,000 people. In the area of Faliro a large construction
scheme was accomplished. It included a Sports Pavilion (Tae-Kwon-Do Hall),
which could accommodate 4,000 people, and was perfect for hosting events
such as concerts, exhibitions and conferences. An aquarium, a modern
marina, Olympic beach volleyball courts, an open-air theatre, pedestrian
streets and an esplanade were also constructed.

Figure 9.1 Athens 2004

Photo courtesy of Ms Roy Panagiotopoulou
 Athens’s 2004 Olympic infrastructures 153
The Canoeing and Rowing Centres were built in Schinias with the protec-
tion of the environment in mind as it reclaimed and highlighted the attractive
landscape and natural springs in the area. Some facilities were also built in
downgraded areas and the objective was to upgrade them for tourism,
employment, culture and sports activities (Agios Kosmas Sailing Centre,
Nikea Weightlifting Centre, Markopoulo Shooting and Equestrian Centre, Ano
Liossia Centre, Peristeri Boxing Hall, Galatsi Hall). However, this infra-
structural legacy remained largely unexploited after the Games due to a general
inertia that characterized post-Olympic Athens, and a lack of coordination
between the Olympic Games’ organizers and government bodies (Singh and
Hu, 2008).
The sports of Olympic fencing, basketball, baseball and softball were held
in the renovated Hellinikon Olympic Complex (the old Athens airport). In
that same site, a remarkable 2,250-metre-long artificial lake was added and
hosted the Canoe Kayak Slalom. Additional sports facilities included Goudi
Olympic Centre, a large hall for badminton, a renovated equestrian centre
and two open-air spaces.
Athens might have gained more cultural outcomes from these Olympic
development projects. Due to the uncontrolled construction growth that took
place from 1950 to 1970, Athens shared the traffic congestion and air pollu-
tion problems that beset many large cities, and many of its residential areas
had been developed in an uncoordinated manner. The city of Athens took
advantage of the Olympic largesse and began working on a resourceful city
regeneration plan. As a result of this plan a new airport was built, as was the
Athens metro, tram and suburban railway. The road network was also
upgraded. The European Union and the Community Support Framework
were the main funders of these projects. The plan was realized by the Minis-
tries of Culture and Environment, Physical Planning and Public Works, the
Municipality of Athens, the Prefecture of Athens and Piraeus, the Technical
Guild of Greece, the National Tourism Organisation and the Unification of
the Archaeological Sites of Athens SA. The 2004 organizing Olympic com-
mittee, with the experience of working with other large cities that had pre-
viously hosted the Games, coordinated the whole project (Beriatos and
Gospodini, 2004).
The city of Athens aimed to achieve tangible infrastructure improvements,
such as construction works and inventive designs that could restore and reju-
venate the historic centre of the city. These improvements were to be accom-
plished by uniting the city’s archaeological sites with pedestrian roads,
renovating a number of neoclassical buildings, rebuilding some of the squares
and streets of the historic Athens centre, and restoring old opens spaces and
monuments (Kissoudi, 2008). Architects like Santiago Calatrava submitted
innovative and pioneering architectural designs. ‘Non-sporting’ projects
included transportation system renovation, such as the construction of new
roads, junctions, a tram network, metro lines, and improvement and renovation
of building and wall facades in the centre of Athens (Beriatos and Gospodini,
154 Evangelia Kasimati and Nikolaos Vagionis
2004). As can be seen, Athens tended to focus more on the physical infra-
structure changes to the city fabric, rather than more intangible, non-infra-
structural cultural effects.3
The most important construction plan for easing traffic congestion was the
revitalized transport infrastructure. The car ownership rate in Athens, a city with
around five million residents, has a rate of 350 cars per 1,000 citizens, and only
30 per cent of the inhabitants use daily public transportation. This multiple
construction project dedicated to transportation was in keeping with promises
made during Athens’s bid for the 2004 Olympics (Frantzeskakis and Frantzes-
kakis, 2006). This was considered to be very important for the improvement of
the city’s quality of life. The modernization of the Metro public transport system,
the construction of a new tram line linking the city-centre to the waterfront, the
provision of motorways and slip roads to provide access to Athens International
Airport, and finally the creation of footpaths linking the city-centre attractions
were all implemented. Because of the large number of athletes, team escorts,
judges, referees, media and press representatives, spectators, employees and
volunteers that came to Athens, these road and railway network improvements
were vital to the success of the Games (Kissoudi, 2008).
The 2004 Olympic Games played a crucial role in the urban development
of Athens, accelerating changes that would have taken a longer time to be
completed. According to a public opinion poll during the period 21 February
2003 to 10 January 2004, Greek people were proud of the Olympic Games
and thought they were worth the cost. It seems that there was a strong emo-
tional bond between national pride and the Olympic Games among people of
different ages and political ideologies (Karkatsoulis et al., 2005). According to
one survey the majority of the citizens polled believed that the 2004 Olympics
were worthwhile despite the fact that the government had not taken enough
advantage of the games which resulted in a missed opportunity (Kotrotsos,
2008). Despite the under-utilization of Olympic venues, research that sur-
veyed spectators’ attitudes (and focused mainly on opinions about the com-
bination of sport and culture as a motivation for international mutual
friendship and understanding), showed that 76.3 per cent of the respondents
believed that through the marriage of sport and culture the Olympic ideals
could be accomplished4 (Messing et al., 2008).

The post-Olympic use of the Greek Olympic venues

After the Olympic Games ended a special legal framework, which was enacted
by law in 2005, for the future use of all Olympic facilities was formulated (Offi-
cial Gazette of the Government, 2005). According to the category of the venue
the following uses were allowed: within basketball and fencing venues, cultural
events and exhibitions, commercial shops and food courts were permitted.
Within baseball, softball and hockey venues, athletic uses, cultural events and
public assemblies were allowed. Within the existing installations of the canoe-
kayak-slalom venue, shops selling or renting sports gear and public assemblies
 Athens’s 2004 Olympic infrastructures 155
were allowed, also in the surrounding areas a theme (sports) park and a hydro
park were legal (Milionis, 2010). Through the same legal framework, Hellenic
Olympic Properties (HOP), a management authority established for securing the
post-Olympic use of most of the Olympic properties, was legislated.
On the day of the opening ceremony of the Beijing 2008 Games the Greek
newspaper Kathimerini reported:

[A]s soon as the Athens Games were over, it was clear that without the
International Olympic Committee’s incessant carping and with Greeks no
longer needing to display their best face to the world, there was no plan for
the day after. Apart from the major transportation projects that have trans-
formed the city, the purely Olympic projects were left in limbo like the fossils
of white elephants, the decaying abandoned reminders of a collective dream
that we could not translate into reality (Kathimerini, 2008, p. 10).

The foreign press, on the other hand, reported that:

[E]conomic stagnation, widespread corruption, a troubled education

system, rising poverty and unreliable security were all thrust to the fore as
thousands of Greeks spilled into the streets to protest against the gov-
ernment. Many demonstrations turned violent, led by a relatively small
group of anarchists (Kissoudi, 2010, p. 2,789).

HOP (Hellenic Olympic Properties) was criticized by the Greek and foreign
press due to neglected and underused venues despite HOP publishing many
press releases about its progress in the use of the post-Olympic assets. Table
9.1 depicts the current or proposed status of the 2004 Summer Olympic
facilities. The sense of contestation over post-Olympic use of a city continues.
One of the legacies of the criticism of the 2004 games has been perhaps a
greater focus in more recent Olympiads on the needs of resident communities
versus the needs of tourists during the event. The 2004 Olympics were criti-
cized for the under-use of venues post the Games. The socio-economic cri-
tique of the impact of the Games has not lessened. In 2014 Michael Silk
wrote that London became an unequal city (Silk, 2012 p.283) during the 2012
London Games, an event in which tourist images were nurtured in Olympic
mode but the city itself was a space of ‘elective belonging’ for many of the
city’s socio-economic groups (p. 283).
By 2016 only some of the post-Olympic assets were in full or partial use.
The reconstruction work on a number of facilities has been postponed due to
the Greek economic crisis, some are being leased on short-term contracts, and
others remain deserted. Some of the post-Olympic sports facilities that have
been leased to businessmen have been transformed into shopping centres and
recreation places, which has had a limited cultural benefit for society, and no
particular provision for the protection of the environment has been made.
These issues caused conflict and debate between the municipal authorities and
156 Evangelia Kasimati and Nikolaos Vagionis
HOP (Kissoudi, 2010). Some other post-Olympic sports venues, like the
Hellinikon Olympic Hockey Centre and the Hellinikon baseball stadium have
found unexpected uses, such as accommodating refugees and immigrants,
mainly from Syria, Afghanistan, Iraq and Pakistan, who are waiting for a
doorway to open into the rest of Europe. Even if the refugees and immigrants
could be described as a new type of ‘community’ who are re-purposing
existing structures and bringing new cultural concepts to the city of Athens,
this is occurring against the backdrop of discussions about racism and xeno-
phobia in Greece that suggest any integration of these migrants into Greek
society will proceed very slowly (Lianos, 2004).

Cultural tourism in Greece

Identification and definitions of cultural tourism

Cultural and sports tourism constitutes a specific form of tourism that, as
defined below, can provide a boost to Greek tourism. The broad definition of
Cultural Tourism is a:

kind of tourism where the cultural heritage – old and contemporary – lies
in the center of the activity. The multi-cultural meeting, which constitutes
an essential characteristic of this type of tourism, has consequences to
both the tourist and the reception society (Baud and Ypeij, 2009, p. 3).

Cultural tourism includes sporting events that primarily satisfy the human
need for physical and cultural development and improvement, and has strong
resonances in Greek culture. The Greek community unanimously regards the
Olympics as a kind of spiritual child, and some believe that they should be
permanently held in Greece. And of course there is a profound integration of
the tourist business with the Olympics in this country. The marble stadium
where the first Olympics of the modern times in 1896 were held is one of the
most visited cultural resources in Athens. The national air-carrier of Greece
carries the name Olympic Airways, and the biggest sports club in the country
is called Olympiacos.
In Greece, according to the above definitions, the charms that attract cul-
tural tourists include a broad spectrum of categories. Cocossis et. al. (2011)
identified the primary cultural tourism resources including those related to his-
tory (locations, built environments, parks, landscapes and farms); material
articles; the intangible characteristics of local traditions; the physical char-
acteristics related to the natural environment; festival and event tourism; and
large or small sports events as well as the routes that connect resources or
themes across regions.
Table 9.2 shows the detailed classification of selected countries for 2013
with respect to their cultural resources. As illustrated, Greece is highly
Table 9.2 Competitiveness of cultural resources of selected countries, according to the TTTCI Index (2013)
Greece Italy Spain France Turkey Portugal
Nr Rank Nr Rank Nr Rank Nr Rank Nr Rank Nr Rank
14 Pillar Cultural 4.3 25 6.1 7 6.6 1 6 8 5.2 19 5.7 13
resources
Number of world 18 14 47 3 53 2 45 4 20 12 14 20
heritage monuments
Stadium seats per mil 65,737 38 52,072 52 99,938 23 50,213 55 25,008 83 133,368 12
inhabitants
Number of international 133 28 410 6 472 3 423 5 163 20 216 15
exhibitions
Exports as percentage 0.2% 42 6% 5 1.3% 18 4.2% 8 1.4% 16 0.3% 31
of world
Source: World Economic Forum (2013): Calculations by the authors
158 Evangelia Kasimati and Nikolaos Vagionis
competitive in the number of World Heritage Monuments considering its size.
Moreover, if we account for the global importance of monuments like the
Acropolis and Delphi, then Greece is particularly competitive. The data on
the spatial analysis of archaeological sites are of special interest. Most
archaeological sites are located in Attica, in the Dodecanese, Heraklion,
Argolida and Lassithi. The total traffic per area does not necessarily depend
on the number of archaeological sites. The Treaty for the Protection of the
World Cultural and Natural Heritage (1972) was ratified by Greece in 1981,
and to date 17 Greek World Heritage Monuments have been listed.
The cultural tourism industry in Greece is not negligible. Its archaeological
sites have been receiving from 6 to 8.2 million visitors every year during the
last 15 years, with an average annual growth of 1.4 per cent. In 2014, annual
revenues from the above visits amount to some 30 to 43 million euros. Of
course, apart from cultural relics contemporary Athens is also a lively city
with many entertainment options, including theatre, music of all kinds, and a
range of amusements for tourists and inhabitants. Archaeological sites are
scattered over almost all the regions of Greece. For example, in 2014 Attica
received some 2.7 million visitors to 15 archaeological sites. The Dodecanese
received 1.1 million visitors to seven sites. Heraklion, in Crete, hosted about
0.9 million to eight sites; while Argolida received 0.7 million visitors to five
sites (Cocossis et al., 2011, and Moira and Parthenis, 2011). Tourism is how-
ever very seasonally dependent as some 50 per cent of visits occur in just
three months: July, August and September.
Greece’s museums are the second most popular attraction for cultural
tourists. During the last 15 years, museum visitors have varied from 2 million
annually, to 3.37 million in 2014. This trend for visits to Greek museums
amounts to an average increase of 2.8 per cent annually since 1998. All
regions in Greece have at least one museum. In Attica, for example there are
20 major museums catering to some 1.75 million visitors, while in Dodeca-
nese there are 13, with 300,000 visitors, and in the Cyclades there are 16, with
122,000 visitors.
Museums are not as reliant on seasonality as open archaeological sites. The
months of July, August and September account for about one third of the
annual visits, rather than the half recorded at open sites. This also shows that
museums are a very useful business asset for promoting cultural tourism. Of
course the economic imperative is not always the main motive, as both state
and private resources operate all-year round. These enterprises may run at a
loss during certain periods of the year, but they serve important educational
and cultural purposes.

Contribution of the 2004 Olympics to Cultural Tourism

The 2004 Games also supported a Cultural Olympiad that took place
between 2001 and 2004. During this time, 110 programs consisting of more
than 250 events or performances were held (Aggelikopoulos, 2004). The core
 Athens’s 2004 Olympic infrastructures 159
idea was to emphasize the multicultural and international character of
Olympic cultural activities by hosting major cultural events in Athens and
some smaller events in the Greek periphery. Greece, the Balkans and other
Mediterranean countries also held a number of major cultural programs.5 The
cost of the four-year program was 143 million euros, from which only three
million euros were recovered as revenue (Panagiotopoulou, 2008). During the
Games the Athens Organising Committee also organised the Athens 2004–
Culture, a cultural-events program (of 422 events) that took place throughout
the Greek periphery and along the Olympic Flame’s route. The campaign
began with the torch’s lighting in Ancient Olympia on the 25 March 2004,
and ended on the 30 September 2004 with the completion of the Paralympic
Games.
The 2004 Olympic Games played an important role in the development of
cultural tourism in Greece. During the preparation for the Games, the Ministry
of Culture funded the restoration of many museums in Athens, such as the
Acropolis Museum, the National Archaeological Museum and the Christian
and Byzantine Museum. A number of new museums were also built in
Athens: the Glyptotheque, Museum of Islamic Art and the New Benaki.
Museums at Delphi, Olympia and Marathon (outside of Athens) were also
renovated. With the Cultural Olympiad, this construction activity helped to
raise the number of foreign and domestic travellers to museums and archae-
ological sites, which turned out to be a very positive investment that further
enhanced Greece’s cultural tourist products. It is beyond question that great
athletic events belong to the wider cultural sector of sport and social activities.
Athletics unite countries in fair competition, improve tolerance of varying
religious beliefs, contribute to the equality of rights between men and women,
and of course create their own history. Athletic mega-events like the Olympic
Games also rely on heavy infrastructure. Not only infrastructure required for
athletic contests, but also infrastructure in the fields of transport, tourist
accommodation and services, telecommunications, safety and health. And of
course, all of these have economic and marketing dimensions, which under
normal conditions can work positively for the cultural tourism of the hosting
region for long periods.

Conclusion
For a contemporary city seeking global recognition and status, the Olympic
Games offer a unique opportunity to present a dynamic profile. Those cities
bidding for the Olympics aspire to boost their economies and presence in the
global tourism market, and use such events to upgrade urban areas, transport
infrastructure and create new venues that can provide a basis for future bids
for major global events. The ambitions of Athens included all aforementioned
arguments and prospects.
In the post 2004 Olympic Game era it seems that there was inadequate
planning for this period, and consequently, Athens failed to realize its
160 Evangelia Kasimati and Nikolaos Vagionis
ambitions of maximising the Olympic legacy for the joint development of
sport and cultural tourism. Athens focused heavily on winning the bid,
building the infrastructure and staging successful games, but the post-Games
period was poorly planned. In a public opinion poll held four years after the
games, and on the accession of the Beijing Olympics, Greek citizens were
asked to declare whether their government had fully taken advantage of the
Athens Games (Kotrotsos, 2008). Eight out of ten citizens answered that they
thought their government had failed in this regard. However, it was also evi-
dent that citizens had strong feelings of pride and nostalgia about the Games.
According to the survey the majority of citizens polled believed that the
games had benefited the country in general, and Athens in particular, despite
the huge cost and the failure to immediately exploit the opportunities the
games had offered (Kotrotsos, 2008).
Athens did realize some of its aspirations; others, however, still await rea-
lization. This has occurred because there was lack of coordination between
public governing bodies, commercial providers, and community representatives
on what should be done with the Games infrastructure. This was particularly
the case in relation to the new venues that were created for the games. HOP,
the government-controlled company that was responsible for making use of
each of the Olympic venues after the games was extremely slow and inefficient
in its utilization of assets, and its annual financial statements consistently
revealed negative bottom lines. More attention needed to be paid to securing
an ongoing return and community benefit from Olympic precincts and
venues. It also failed to implement realistic planning that maintained state of
the art Olympic venues after the games and making them cost effective, even
under the weight of the Greek economic crisis.
These outcomes are the subject of continuing scholarly consideration.
Minnaert makes clear that although the regeneration of urban areas often
serves the economic goals of attracting new investment and stimulating the
local economy, “there are associated social benefits” (Minnaert, 2012, p. 361).
Quoting Lenskyj (2008) on arguing for a “fourth pillar” of social responsibility
for the Olympic movement, Minnaert concludes that skills (volunteering),
employment and sports participation are necessary to promote benefits for
socially excluded groups (Minnaert, p. 363). In relation to Athens, Minnaert
states that the infrastructure benefits of the Games were unlikely to ‘trickle
down’ to communities and there was no evidence of participation by ‘socially
excluded groups’ in the planning process (Minnaert, p. 367).
To the extent that most of the infrastructural facilities have not had mean-
ingful post-Games use means they have become ‘white elephants’ that are a
burden on Greek taxpayers, and the cost of the Olympics has been blamed as a
major contributing factor to the current economic crisis. As most European
countries were coming out of recession at the end of 2009, Greece was entering a
tumultuous period. The slowdown in global economic activity in 2008, and the
recession in OECD countries in 2009 were however the prelude, rather than the
cause, of the Greek crisis. When the global financial crisis struck, Greece was
 Athens’s 2004 Olympic infrastructures 161
badly prepared after years of profligacy, which included the cost of the Olym-
pic Games in 2004, but it had also failed to rein in its spiraling public debt.
In terms of culture, the 2004 Summer Olympic Games provided an extra-
ordinary opportunity for the host city, region and country through the Cultural
Olympiad, the organization of the Athens 2004–Culture and various cities that
hosted cultural events such as music festivals, arts, literature and photography
exhibitions. The hosting of the 2004 Athens Games helped upgrade Athens’s
image from an unfriendly urban landscape to a European tourist destination.
The successful organization of the 2004 Olympics reshaped Athens with
improved infrastructure and an enhanced urban aesthetic status that was
recognized internationally. However, the post-Olympic heritage remained
mostly unexploited due to lack of adequate strategic planning and management,
and Athens has yet to find a path towards fully reaping benefits from its cultural
heritage. In order to succeed here, there is a need to develop cross-leveraging
synergies between the Olympic legacy and cultural tourism for the city of
Athens. The future integration of Olympic resources into successful tourist pro-
ducts and community benefits remains an important priority. This may require
increased cooperation between public administrators, private entrepreneurs
and local and international communities.

Notes
1 Economists, see Noll and Zimbalist (1997) and Siegfried and Zimbalist (2000) have
argued that the economic evaluation of sports venues is weak which leads to an
overestimation of the economic benefits and an underestimation of the overall costs
in order to make an argument in favour of the project.
2 There are various areas of the beneficial impact in the society: (1) changes in city’s
design; (2) alterations to the built and physical environment; (3) improvements in
air, sea, rail and road transport; (4) presentation of the city and country and their
culture; (5) alterations in public decision-making and governance; (6) transformations
in political relationships and politics; (7) potential greater business activity and
tourism; (8) new sporting venues; (9) the potential of increased community partici-
pation, discussion and even protest; (10) the participation of the community as
torch-bearers and volunteers.
3 The academic literature mentions, as intangible impacts of hosting the Olympics,
the city’s image promotion and marketing; human-related effects (education,
volunteering, skills expansion, knowledge creation); aggregate memory and spirit
(civic pride, feel-good factors, shared values); culture (cultural aspects, recognition)
or network effects (virtual and/or physical).
4 This survey included the Summer Olympic Games from Barcelona 1992 to Beijing
2008. Concerning the Athens Olympics, 1,519 questionnaires were completed by
international and domestic tourists and by Athenians attending the competitions of
modern Pentathlon. The sample covered 21 per cent of the spectators.
5 For this aim, the following four programs were implemented that called Major
Programs:
The New Balkans (2001–2004). It referred to inter-Balkan activities in arts,
science (e.g. paintings, music festivals, literature and photography exhibitions, etc.)
intending to counteract Balkan ‘marginalization’ and suspicion and to foster the
co-existence of people in the European war zones.
162 Evangelia Kasimati and Nikolaos Vagionis
Agora (2002–2004), built cooperation between local community organizations and
stated as its main focus, the artistic revitalization of a city’s street or a city’s square
giving the opportunity to the citizens to ‘explore’ their own city and artists. This
program involved 45 various towns.
Harbors of Mediterranean (2003). From Barcelona to Smyrna and from Mar-
seille to Alexandria, port towns engaged in various cultural activities in order to
reveal the never-ending cultural exchanges of the Mediterranean cities and their
link with the sea.
Cultural Routes (2003–2004). There were small arts groups traveling abroad and
creating small Greek festivals by performing or presenting characteristic achievements
of Greek cultural productions (Panagiotopoulou, 2008).

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10 Local/global
David Walsh’s Museum of Old and New
Art and its impact on the local community
and the Tasmanian tourist industry
Mark Pennings

Introduction
In this era of global tourism some national governments and corporations are
investing billions of dollars to construct glamorous starchitect-designed art
museums and stunning experiencescapes to seek nourishment from this
lucrative leisure industry. Projects such as Abu Dhabi’s Saadiyat Island and
West Kowloon’s M+ epitomize the grand ambitions of governments seeking
market reach. However, one does not require a massive enterprise to succeed,
as illustrated by Tasmania’s Museum of Old and New Art (MONA) in Australia,
which has achieved a high-profile place in the global tourist marketplace as a
much smaller ‘boutique’ experiencescape. MONA is owned by gambling
entrepreneur David Walsh, and is an independent entity that does not rely on
a top-down government or corporate-driven agenda to determine its role.
MONA is distinctive in a number of ways. Walsh has described it as “a
subversive adult Disneyland” (Pennings and Walsh, 2016), which alludes to
his immersive experiencescape that offers cultural experiences, including art
viewing, digital interaction with a museum collection, cultural events and
festivals, wine and food banquets, and markets. The museum has gallery
spaces for function hire, a café, wine bar, restaurants, and luxury apartments.
MONA is particularly distinctive in the way it encourages its audience to
participate in a democratization of experience when engaging with art and
culture; that is to say, audiences are not ‘talked down’ to, and are encouraged
to express their opinions about art via digital technologies like the ‘O’ device
that the museum provides, as well as sharing an egalitarian community
sensibility in MONA’s festivals. In the process, the museum has “re-defined
cultural tourism from a Tasmanian perspective at least, and probably also on
a national perspective. And that is because it is more of a complete experi-
ence. It’s attracting a visitor that is looking for that immersive experience”
(Pennings and Wilsden, 2016).
Having established its reputation MONA must sustain its distinctive place
in a competitive global market without losing its links with the local com-
munity. While an increasing number of interstate and international tourists
are visiting MONA (which brings in greater revenue, allowing this institution
 David Walsh’s Museum of Old and New Art 165
to buy more art, hold more events, and employ more local people), it is
struggling to secure repeat visits from the local population. Attracting repeat
visitors is a common problem for many museums, and MONA is maintaining
interest in its art and culture from local inhabitants by persisting with its
commitment to the democratization of experience via festivals whose carnival
spirit is inclusive and embraces universal themes. This chapter considers
MONA’s place in the global market of tourist experiencescapes, reports on its
economic impact on Tasmanian tourism, describes the qualities that make it
unique in its local community, and examines the means by which it is seeking
to expand its external audience while sustaining local interest, with particular
attention to the sociological dimensions of festivals such as Dark Mofo. This
study employs qualitative analysis as its primary methodology as interviews
were conducted with key personnel at the Museum of Old and New Art, and
with its owner David Walsh.

Global tourism: a mega-business

In this neo-liberal era there are concerns about rising economic inequality,
stalling economic growth, and the terrorist threat, but this has not prevented
tourism from becoming one of the fastest growing industries in today’s global
market. The industry’s expansion has outpaced financial, health, and auto-
motive industries, and is only bettered by information technologies. The

Figure 10.1 Exterior view of MONA (on the left) approaching the MONA ferry
terminal from the Derwent River, Hobart
Photograph courtesy of Stephen Haley
166 Mark Pennings
numbers speak for themselves, as around 1.3 billion people have undertaken
tourism annually in recent years. Given that the global population is around
7.4 billion people, tourists represent a sixth of the world’s population, which
is quite a market.
Tourism has been a resilient and lucrative economic activity, and the World
Travel and Tourism Council’s (WTTC) economic impact report in 2014
claimed that it generated US$7.6 trillion, or 10 per cent of global GDP. It
also produced 277 million (or one in eleven) jobs (UNWTO, 2015). Tourism
is therefore extremely important for global economic activity, and has led
United Nations World Tourism Organisation’s Secretary-General Taleb Rifai
to declare

The robust performance of the sector is contributing to economic growth

and job creation in many parts of the world. It is thus critical for countries
to promote policies that foster the continued growth of tourism, including
travel facilitation, human resources development and sustainability
(Statista.com, 2016).

It is anticipated that there will be nearly 1.8 billion global tourists by 2025,
which would represent a 58 per cent increase on 2014 figures. This staggering
growth in traveller numbers demonstrates that global tourism is in the midst
of a boom, and as transport costs continue to decline, and those with dis-
posable incomes continue to invest in travel experiences to enhance and enrich
their lives, tourism will continue to be a vital sector in many economic planning
ventures.

Investing in ‘Catwalk’ global markets, and the role of

experiencescapes for tourism
With so much at stake, governments engage in intensive planning to capture
their share of a lucrative tourist market. As a consequence, this era has seen
the rise of what has been referred to as ‘geo-economics’, where there is rivalry
between global cities to attract corporate investment and revenue from tourists.
This is because such revenue can be vital for fostering infrastructure devel-
opment, economic growth, and employment prospects (Ek, 2005, p. 73).
Those that are fully engaged in this fight for tourist capital have been referred
to as participants in a ‘Catwalk Economy’ where they act like

models showing off clothing on a catwalk at a fashion show [where]

businesses, cities, regions and nations all have to compete for the atten-
tion of the surrounding world … this is a crowded market, and it is not
always easy to be heard above the cacophony (O’Dell, 2005, p. 28).

Tourism is a persuasive economic force, and many of the larger projects are
top-down enterprises driven by governments and corporations to gain
 David Walsh’s Museum of Old and New Art 167
advantageous access to the tourist market. This can involve the construction
of massive experiencescapes, or securing rights to host global mega-events like
the Olympic Games and the Football World Cup.
Japan for example is using the Olympic Games in 2020 as part of its strategy
to profit from global tourism to assist an economy that has been in recession
for several decades. The Olympics is to be the springboard for a range of
government initiatives to expand tourist facilities. Prime Minister Abe has
recently stated:

Tourism is an important pillar of our country’s growth strategy, and a

trump card for regional revitalization. It is also an engine to boost
growth to achieve Y600 trillion GDP goal … To establish a tourism-
based country, I’m determined to take any political measures in advance
to be fully prepared (Murai, 2016).

Along similar lines, Brazil’s Rio de Janiero hosted major global sporting
events to attract tourists. The government believed the acquisition of rights to
host the football World Cup and Olympic Games would boost the economy.
Brazil spent around US$1 trillion in public and private funds on public works
and infrastructure to support these global events. Despite a range of problems
associated with the Zika virus, law and order, and government corruption
Brazil’s investment in tourism was a success, for 650,000 people visited Rio
during the 2016 Olympics.1
Experiencescapes such as M+ in West Kowloon and Saadiyat Island in
Abu Dhabi are specially designated urban and cultural precincts driven by
government and corporations. They generally contain distinctive starchitect-
designed buildings that give cities profile branding in the global Catwalk
Economy.2 To enhance a city’s global reputation, governments stake massive
investments in attracting tourist revenue to help grow retail sales, business
investment, and employment. The complex on Saadiyat Island typifies the
scale and kind of investment some governments are prepared to outlay to
appeal to tourists. This project will cost US$27 billion and is part of a
broader plan to turn the United Arab Emirates into a global cultural hub.
The island will contain branches of the Louvre and the Guggenheim, as well
as an NYU campus. Kanish Tharoor has claimed that Saadiyat Island
will be:

a highbrow and high-rolling amusement park, a place to park your yacht

or toddle from green to green in close proximity to some of the world’s
most celebrated art. Its additional frills are a performance space designed
by Zaha Hadid, a marina, a golf course, exclusive villas and luxury hotels
(Tharoor, 2016, p. 26).

This experiencescape is a vital instrument in Abu Dhabi’s plan to be a global

entrepôt for cultural tourists.
168 Mark Pennings
Hong Kong’s West Kowloon cultural precinct, known as M+, is another
billion-dollar investment in creating a high-profile cultural experiencescape.
The government has furnished a US$2.7 billion budget (with supplementary
funding from private donations) to construct this precinct on reclaimed harbour
land. It will accommodate 17 arts and cultural venues, including the dis-
tinctively T-Shaped M+ Museum for visual culture (designed by TFP Farrells
and starchitects Herzog & de Meuron). It is hoped that these venues and
events will attract enough tourists to have long-term beneficial impacts on the
cultural and economic well-being of the local population.
Abu Dhabi and West Kowloon are massively scaled, top-down, government-
driven projects. Their power and scope suggest they will be major global
precincts in the tourism and leisure industries in years to come, but there is
room for other players. MONA is a case in point. It is a popular experi-
encescape that is making a major contribution to its tourism sector, yet it
operates by very different principles than those manifested in the larger zones.
Indeed, MONA is not the product of top-down development, but is the work
of a single entrepreneur in a remote island off the south coast of Australia. It
is an independent enterprise that occasionally works with, but is not reliant
on government. It is also immersed in its local community, as opposed to the
distinctly internationalist posture maintained by some of its larger rivals.

MONA’s contribution to Tasmania’s tourist industry

The Museum of Old and New Art (MONA) in Tasmania, Australia was
designed by Nonda Katsalidis and opened in 2011. It is a boutique art
museum in an experiencescape that is set in the working class Hobart suburb
of Berriedale. It has achieved global recognition due to its unique character,
attitude, and type of cultural activities it offers.
Australia, like so many other countries is benefitting from the tourism
boom. From August 2015 to August 2016, 7.99 million tourists visited the
country (Tourism Australia, 2016). In addition, the overall financial con-
tribution of tourists to the Australian economy in 2015 was a record AUS
$34.8 billion. Many of these visitors found their way to Tasmania, in large
part due to MONA’s profile. Although in June 2016 only about 1 per cent of
international visitors to Australia went to Tasmania, yet this was worth AUS
$2 billion to that state, and contributed 8 per cent of its GDP (which was
tourism’s highest contribution to a state’s GDP in the nation). Tourism in
Tasmania also directly supports 15,000 jobs, and indirectly 38,000 jobs, which
is 16.2 per cent of employment in the state. This is once again the highest
ratio in Australia (Tasmanian Government, 2016).
MONA has played a pivotal role in this success. Tourism Tasmania’s Visitor
Survey (July 2011) stated that MONA “quickly became a significant attrac-
tion for visitors in the State”, and by mid-2012 MONA was attracting 25 per
cent of all visitors to Tasmania, which made it the second most visited tourist
attraction in the state [Table 10.1, Column 2]. Surveys from 2013 to 2015
 David Walsh’s Museum of Old and New Art 169
Table 10.1 MONA visitor numbers
Year Total tourist Visitors to Local International Visitors Money
visitors to MONA as visitors to visitors to who came spent in
Tasmania a per cent MONA MONA just to see Tasmania
of the total MONA by MONA
visitors
2013 280,700 28 per cent 76 per cent 14 per cent 6 per cent $AUD
549 million
2014 300,900 28 per cent 73 per cent 15 per cent 16 per cent 611 million
June 2015 330,700 75 per cent 14 per cent 5 per cent

December 340,000 29 per cent 72 per cent 16 per cent 4 per cent 741 million
2015
June 2016 335,127 29 per cent 70 per cent 16 per cent 3 per cent 738 million

Source: Author

continued to chart MONA’s consistent growth as a tourist attraction. By

September 2013 this museum was attracting 28 per cent of all tourists coming to
Tasmania, and 6 per cent of those came directly to visit MONA. The percentage
of those who visited the state just to see MONA jumped from 6 in 2013 to a
record high 16 in 2014 [Table 10.1, Column 4]. By 2015–16, 29 per cent of
tourists going to Tasmania were visiting MONA. In 2013 these travellers
spent $549 million during their trip, and by the end of 2015 were spending
AUD$741 million, a 21 per cent increase on earlier figures [Table 10.1,
Column 5]. Numbers of actual visitors to MONA rose from 210,300 in June
2012 to 340,800 by June 2016, which was about a 60 per cent advance on
attendances during this period [Table 10.1, Column 1].
MONA’s value to Tasmania’s tourism industry in economic terms is sub-
stantial, and in the process it has captured the attention of global media. In 2013
Tasmania’s capital, Hobart, was ranked seventh in the top ten global cities that
Lonely Planet travel guide recommended for visitation. Lonely Planet cited
MONA as the major tourist attraction in this small city, and compared it to the
Guggenheim’s impact in Bilbao (ABC News, 2012). MONA owner David Walsh
has also advised, “The New York Times and New Yorker have done something
on us. Particularly in Europe just about every major magazine and newspaper
has done something on us” (Pennings and Walsh, 2016).

MONA’s uniqueness and the democratization of experience

A range of factors has made MONA a distinctive destination. These include the
museum’s design and art collection, both of which are owned by gambling entre-
preneur David Walsh. The museum has dramatic interior (rather than exterior)
architectural features, including Triassic sandstone walls; and the building is sunk
into the ground, so visitors begin viewing the objet d’art in an underground base-
ment. It also contains theatrically lit exhibition spaces suggestive of a theme park
entertainment complex. There are no wall labels to describe its exhibits, instead,
170 Mark Pennings

Figure 10.2 Interior view of MONA showing Julius Popp’s Bit.Fall (2005)
Photo courtesy of Stephen Haley

an iPhone device called an ‘O’ is provided for use and contains basic information
about the art, opinion pieces, and options for visitors to express their own judg-
ments about the art. MONA’s experiencescape also offers luxury accommodation,
a winery, a brewery, and a variety of music, film, and art events.
MONA’s distinctive reputation derives from Walsh’s idiosyncratic approach
to this venture. He built the museum to house a private collection of art and
objet d’art, which had been stored on his residential estate. MONA was
designed by an architect-friend, and was built on a whim to display his col-
lection. Walsh was not as interested in making a profit as he was in having
complete control over the nature and direction of the museum. In the process,
he has rejected a didactic or authoritative museological and curatorial
approach, choosing instead to give visitors the freedom to view his art
collection on their own terms (Pennings and Walsh, 2016).
A fundamental characteristic of MONA’s approach is what I call its com-
mitment to a democratization of experience when engaging with art and culture.
Museum visitors do not see wall labels next to the art objects because Walsh
believes these are too dictatorial and elitist. The visitor is not obliged
to follow an institutionally prescribed interpretation of the art rather the
‘O’ device contains data about each work, Walsh’s opinions of his art, and a
love or hate option that the visitor can select. Walsh has stated, “I removed
the preaching from the exposition. I allowed them to form their own
opinions … they feel good about being able to form an opinion and express
 David Walsh’s Museum of Old and New Art 171
it” (Pennings and Walsh, 2016). Mark Wilsden, MONA’s business manager
has elaborated upon this commitment, saying that MONA is:

about the complete experience … we don’t tell people how they should
think about things, right down to no wall labels on the art. The ‘O’ let’s
you choose if you wish to engage in that or not. You can hate stuff, and
this is liberating for some people … You spend more time reading the label
than looking at the work some times, and half the time you don’t under-
stand it … here, everyone is treated on an equal footing where everyone
can have an opinion … We are inclusive (Pennings and Wilsden, 2016).3

This egalitarian and populist philosophy encourages visitors to back their

own judgment when interacting with art and culture, and by refusing to
determine a right or wrong answer MONA embraces the value of anyone’s
opinion whether or not they are educated in the arts.
MONA’s use of digital technology has proved to be very popular. The
nature of the ‘O’ device is compatible with social media formats and brings
visitors closer to the art by enabling them to register opinions others can read.
This is a central element in the democratization of the cultural experience, for
as Mark Wilsden has argued:

What the ‘O’ does is gives visitors more control, it is powerful and
liberating … and allows them to decide how much knowledge and infor-
mation they get. There is a need to feel you have some control of your
experience, rather than being hustled along (Pennings and Wilsden, 2016).

Justin Johnston, Manager of Guest Services, has also explained that with the
‘O’ device people can:

click on our website, visit the blog, or they can see YouTube, or Twitter …
[with] the ‘O’ device … people will soon have some kind of live feedback
…The growth in social media (like Facebook) in the last five years or so
has coincided with how people engage with MONA … MONA uses the
same kind of approach to social media (Pennings and Johnston, 2016).

Events: successful experiential initiatives

A crucial element in MONA’s democratization of experience is embedded in
the nature of its public festivals. The first significant event it held was MONA
FOMA (Museum of Old and New Art: Festival of Art and Music). This
annual festival was initiated in 2008, and soon became the state’s largest
contemporary music festival, and it has featured a number of headline per-
formers, such as Philip Glass, John Cale, and Nick Cave. Dark Mofo is a
recent festival developed by MONA that has boosted its popularity with
tourists and local denizens. It is an art, performance, and music festival that
172 Mark Pennings
celebrates the winter solstice and provides public rituals and ceremonies, such
as a nude swimming event in the Derwent River. Dark Mofo has entrenched
MONA’s reputation as a producer of popular and innovative experiences that
are universal and inclusive, and bring local and external communities together.
It was instigated after consultation with the Tasmanian government, as the
latter was keen to attract more tourists to the state during the quiet winter
season. Accordingly, Dark Mofo was first developed to appeal to outside
tourists, rather than locals, and “80 per cent of all the tickets are sold to
residents from somewhere else other than Tasmania” (Pennings and Walsh,
2016). The festival however has also proven to be very popular with local
residents, and has purportedly re-energized MONA’s relationship with its
community due to its open and inclusive perspective.
Dark Mofo offers a diverse range of activities, but perhaps what resonates
most for visitors is participation in universal collective ceremonies, which at
the same time enrich a sense of local place. Dark Mofo celebrates a venerable
celestial event – the winter solstice – and does so by drawing on ancient tradi-
tions such as ritualistic ceremonies with bonfires. In this sense, it resembles
events like Burning Man, the annual festival held in the Nevada Desert that
promotes inclusion, self-expression, participation, and community cooperation.
The ritualistic carnivals that characterize Dark Mofo are devised to entertain
tourists, but they are also community events based on egalitarian principles.
People are encouraged to lose themselves in the crowd with local inhabitants
and indulge in cathartic experiences and temporary relief from the rigid con-
formity of everyday life. Mary Lijnzaad, MONA librarian, and one of Walsh’s
earliest colleagues, believes Dark Mofo’s success is due in part to the fact that
there are “very few opportunities in everyday society to maybe give out that
primal scream, so I think that is where the carnivalesque comes in … These kinds
of carnival-like events act as safety valves” (Pennings and Lijnzaad, 2016).
The concept of the carnivalesque was notably examined by theorist Mikhail
Bakhtin who traced it to medieval festivals such as the “Feast of Fools”,
which allowed a transitory discombobulating of ecclesiastical and social
hierarchies. Carnivals are playful, celebratory and anti-authoritarian, and
often provide an undertone of carnal sensuality that is enacted in theatrical
and symbolic terms. Sociologist Adrian Franklin identified the carnivalesque
as one of the key reasons behind Dark Mofo’s appeal to broad audiences.4 An
inclusive, collective and democratic experience pervades Dark Mofo, which
for David Walsh is more about theatre, and that:

the key component of it is the carnivale … where people come together

and forget all their values and all caste and structural systems evaporate,
so MONA is more a ‘coming together’, a democratization of art and an
accidental public institution” (Pennings and Walsh, 2016).5

Events such as Dark Mofo have provided MONA with a new direction that
extends its commitment to democratising the visitor experience. MONA’s success
 David Walsh’s Museum of Old and New Art 173
has been built on its egalitarianism, on its rejection of elitist pretensions, and
with providing audiences with a sense of equality before art that does not privi-
lege the view of the cognoscenti over the non-art trained visitor. This democratic
spirit has in turn become a kind of methodology in MONA’s museological pro-
cedures and attitudes. Moreover, by organising festivals that are often held in
Hobart and surrounding areas (as well as in its home base at Berriedale) MONA
is in some respects instigating an outreach program in which its inclusive philo-
sophy is extended into the broader community; for these events provide oppor-
tunities for communities – consisting of both local and tourist – to perform their
own engagement with culture. In this sense, as with the use of the ‘O’ device, the
local inhabitant and tourist acquire the agency to undertake a self-organized
experience as their own cultural performer. MONA may arrange the perfor-
mance, but it is the participant that undertakes the act of ‘performativity’, and in
this sense, it is almost as if it is the participant in these festivals who provides
MONA with backstage access to the participant’s experience. Therefore, rather
than being a guest of MONA, MONA becomes a guest of the local denizens and
the tourists that engage in these activities.
That Dark Mofo has struck a chord with this outreached audience is
demonstrated by Tasmania Tourism’s statistics, which recorded 174,000 visitors
to Hobart over the festival’s ten-day period in 2015. Dark Mofo included a
range of activities including a Winter Feast that catered to 43,000 people, as
well as performances at Hobart’s Odeon Theatre, and an after-hours Blacklist
party that attracted around 1,500 people a night. Hundreds of others partici-
pated in the naked Winter Solstice Dip in the River Derwent. The Premier of
Tasmania, Will Hodgman, reported that Dark Mofo drew AUS$46 million
into the economy in 2015, and created about 400 full-time and short-term
jobs. He also claimed that this festival has:

rewritten attitudes about winter in Australia’s southernmost and coldest

state and shaped how we define ourselves … Dark Mofo has embraced
all that makes Tasmania quirky and unique … No one can copy it and
nowhere can replicate it, making the event and Tasmania very difficult to
compete with (Smith, 2016).

This statement demonstrates the government’s reliance on MONA, and its

recognition that it represents the character of the community in an inimitable
manner. The museum has also become the stellar events organizer in the state
with the power to lift the entire state’s tourism industry. Yet this is not
undertaken as part of a massive top-down venture, rather MONA is a partner
or stakeholder that has assisted government.

MONA’s emphasis on the local

Dark Mofo and the other attractions MONA’s boutique experiencescape
offers have been embraced by the local community, and in a very short time
174 Mark Pennings
the museum has had a profound impact on this community on economic,
cultural, and social levels.6 Many of its economic benefits have already been
noted, but the museum also directly employs:

at least 120 with fine arts degrees that might otherwise have migrated out
of Tasmania, and now I’m seeing people migrating into Tasmania. There
are now people making art in Tasmania than wouldn’t have otherwise
have been, which arguably has something to do with MONA, perhaps as
the main circumstance (Pennings and Walsh, 2016).

There has been a beneficial impact on local businesses, and many in the hos-
pitality sector, for example, owe their continued existence to MONA’s visibility.7
MONA has significantly enhanced Tasmania’s reputation as a clean environ-
ment with organic foods, for it has hosted banquets managed by celebrity
chefs, which have attracted national recognition, and:

has become the experience that everyone is seeking. It becomes the new
cultural fad, the food fad … That and MONA are the two things that are
being marketed now, and MONA essentially expanded that, so more
visitors came, people opened more restaurants – there are good Tasmanian
restaurants with good Tasmanian experiences in that they use high qual-
ity, organic paddock to plate ingredients, and … there are more tour-
ists … It’s a place everyone has heard of now … I didn’t mean it, but I
am glad I’ve been a part of it (Pennings and Walsh, 2016).

MONA has brought many cultural and social benefits to its local community.
Walsh and staff regard the museum and its experiencescape as integral to the
community, and it is situated in the suburb where Walsh grew up, which
means that MONA has not strayed far from its owner’s roots. In the process,
the museum has given the community a sense of pride and a shared sense of
ownership, and it offers local people access to new ways of cultural life. In
relation to this role, Mark Wilsden has stated:

These are very much working class suburbs around here, where there is
high unemployment, low socio-economic areas, and we want to see kids
come up here, to walk around … In the early days when we opened I
spoke to someone about community benefit, and I said “If it changes one
teenager’s life significantly. If it put them on a different path then it has
achieved something” … That is why it is free for locals because [Walsh]
wants locals to have the opportunity because art and that experience
changed his life. The generosity of public space to provide opportunities
for this kind of experience is critical. Although we are private land, we
don’t have any fences or gates … anyone can come here and just hang
out … We want it to be their MONA, that they’d be proud of it. David’s
on record as saying that is one of the biggest kicks he got out of MONA
 David Walsh’s Museum of Old and New Art 175
was when people started calling it “Our MONA”. That’s the ultimate
affirmation – that is engaged with it, proud of it, and is touching the
community (Pennings and Wilsden, 2016).

The inflow of tourists has also deepened the community’s personal and socio-
cultural contact and exchange with outsiders. This has brought new awareness,
appreciation, and increased understanding of others. It has also generated a
stronger sense of cultural identity, and the belief that this local community
matters, and that it has the capacity to host a globally significant cultural
institution (Besculides, 2002, 306). This impact on community attitudes has
been noted by Mofo’s Creative Director, Leigh Carmichael, who says:

[L]eading the charge in a cultural sense is a thing of pride, and it has

lifted our confidence, and we can do well, and we can achieve … It’s gone
right through the community – a sense of purpose, a sense of pride. I
think MONA provides some leadership in that direction (Pennings and
Carmichael, 2016).8

These phenomena are connected to another critical element in MONA’s

relationship with its local community: a sense of authenticity. MONA has
been able to tap into, and is indeed, a product of a local sensibility. Tasmania
has not been one of Australia’s most prosperous states, and has historically
been looked down on by some mainlanders. Being a small and remote region
fostered a strong sense of community identity, and a down-to-earth attitude
that Carmichael described when explaining MONA’s place in the community:
“It’s earthy and it’s grounded in community and it’s very real, and we are very
connected to our environment so I think that people who are visiting feel that
is a huge part of it” (Pennings and Carmichael, 2016). MONA’s success is
therefore dependent on articulating local values while providing community
leadership as a prestigious conduit between the cultures of Tasmania, Australia,
and the world.

Conclusion
Most museums confront the challenge of balancing the needs of local com-
munities with the expectations of national and international tourists. In 2006
Hans Belting discussed the positive and negative impacts that art museums
can have on local communities and visitors, and noted the difficulties of
seeking to satisfy both audiences:

[M]useums need to attract global tourism, which means claiming their

share in a new geography of world cultures … On the other hand, they
need acceptance and support from a local audience. Culture … is specific
in a local sense, even if minorities demand their own visibilities in art
institutions (Belting, 2006, p. 5).9
176 Mark Pennings
MONA has been very successful in this regard, mainly due to Walsh’s astute
instincts, but also because the museum is very much attuned to these issues. These
considerations are integral to MONA’s association with authenticity. Justin
Johnston has explained the different way in which MONA has approached the
task of building an experiencescape predicated on local values:

[W]e are doing similar things to these large-scale precincts with our hotel
and other things … but they tend to work best if there is still some kind
of integrity around the experience. That is a difficult thing to manage and
maintain because you need to provide something for locals, as well as the
tourists – it still has to have some kind of cultural sense, but it’s not just
forcing art down people’s throats and trying to make a buck out of them
(Pennings and Johnston, 2016).

Recent changes to visitor statistics however suggest a significant shift in the

origins of MONA’s primary audience. The overall number of visitors to
MONA is increasing, but the percentage of those who are local inhabitants is
declining. Walsh has claimed, “About 15 per cent of our guests are interna-
tional. Less than 20 per cent from Hobart” (Pennings and Walsh, 2016). These
contentions are supported by Wilsden who has stated, “Half the population
of Hobart came in the first year to have a look. Probably only about 10 per
cent of them have really come back” (Pennings and Wilsden, 2016). Johnston
has explained that MONA currently receives around 400,000 visitors a year,
but in 2011 “it was 50 per cent Tasmanian and 50 per cent interstate, mostly
Sydney and Melbourne, and a small percentage from overseas, but within five
years it’s about 80 per cent from interstate” (Pennings and Johnston, 2016).
This trend is concerning to an institution that is attached to its local com-
munity, but it has been able to mitigate this drift away from local visits to the
actual museum by attracting more local people to festivals and events.
MONA is also supporting activities like a local market, and these are
attracting audiences that are purported by MONA staff to be proportionally
90 per cent local.
MONA, like other global museums, is strongly connected to a broader art
world community. It is a large organization in a small town and needs to
maintain its reputation by being an active member of a global museum circuit
that exhibits major global artists who are in effect high-profile brands.
MONA might not be a franchised branch of the Guggenheim, but it does
show global celebrity artists such as Matthew Barney who produce spectacular
events that sustain the reputation and profile of this institution as a global
player. In 2017 Walsh is planning to build a museum extension to house art-
work by the perennially popular global artist James Turrell, and this may
spark renewed interest from locals, as well as catering to a growing audience
from beyond Tasmania.
These activities keep the museum up to date with contemporary art and
culture, and the festivals continue to attract government funding and bolster
 David Walsh’s Museum of Old and New Art 177
Tasmanian tourism. However, the danger that MONA is turning into a tourist-
only destination persists, and this jeopardizes an institution that wants to stay
connected to its community. This balancing act has been described by Leigh
Carmichael:

It’s good that everyone wants to be a part of it … but it’s important not
to get too caught up in that. We can’t be too many things to too many
people, as that would dilute our energy across too many areas.… Do we
keep doing what we are doing, or do we go through some kind of
re-birth? … Do something completely different? (Pennings and Carmichael,
2016).

MONA has achieved a great deal for a museum that cost only AUS$75 mil-
lion to build, contains a AUS$30 million art collection, and requires about
AUS$8–10 million a year to run. Its success has been built on a distinctive
identity in a competitive marketplace while maintaining its links to the local
community. However, as it entrenches its place in the global art museum cir-
cuit, it risks becoming a generic experiencescape, rather than a unique, bou-
tique version of the same that is rooted in local community. It is a difficult
balancing act, and Carmichael has summarized the challenges facing
MONA, when he states that it is:

prepared to take great risks. It’s not doing things the way they would be
normally done. It has the ability to break the rules, to go against them, to
live on the fringes, and I think the greatest challenge going forward is
to remain there. Once you are open, for some reason, there is a pull back
to the centre because it is a safe place to be – it worked last week, let’s do
it again. I don’t know if that’s the way we should go. Maybe better to say:
“It worked last week, so let’s do it different”. The big danger for us is
feeding the market what it wants, and that’s not how we started (Pen-
nings and Carmichael, 2016).

MONA’s use of festivals in particular point to the manner in which it is trying

to maintain a balance between its local orientation and sensibility, while
catering for increasing numbers of interstate and international visitors. Festivals
like Dark Mofo have enabled MONA to maintain its community nexus by
moving out of the museum and going directly into the community, rather
than waiting for its community to come to them. As mentioned earlier,
MONA’s philosophy relating to the democratization of experience as illustrated
in the universalist and non-expert access to the ‘O’ device, and the egalitarian
tenor of its festivals provide a platform for acts of cultural performativity that
is maintaining the interest of local and visitor, and in turn points to the
enabling of individual agency within a community ethos that may help sustain
MONA in the immediate future.
178 Mark Pennings
Notes
1 Brazil was also troubled by protests against a government that it was claimed had
invested in these global events at the expense of its own citizens. The Guardian’s
Jonathan Watts reported, ”massive spending on stadiums at a time when the gov-
ernment can barely afford wages for doctors and teachers, a huge security presence
that protected rich foreigners at the expense of poor residents, dismal crowds that
suggested most locals were uninterested in most sports, and massive inequality
between the $920 a day payments to International Olympic Committee executives
and the $13 a day earnings of cleaners in the Olympic village” (Watts, 2016, p. 5).
2 As Anna Klingmann has suggested, for “politicians, investors, citizens, and tourists,
architecture is successful when it provides an operational value that improves the
image, experience, and field of interaction between people … architecture serves …
as a catalyst for cultural and economic change, thus enabling it to surpass its use
value and attain brand equity” (Klingmann, 2007, 317).
3 Wilsden has also stated in relation to this matter: “You can say, ‘This is shit’, but
some other galleries don’t provide you with a mechanism to feed back this kind of
thing. You can say it, and take that opinion away with you, but you can’t feed it
back, and you get stuck into this gallery guilt where if you are not reading the essay
next to the artwork then you are not really appreciating the work.” – interview,
Hobart, 13 April 2016.
4 Adrian Franklin, “MONA and the Carnivalesque”. School of Social Sciences
Seminar, University of Tasmania, 23 May 2014.
5 This sense of communal conviviality was remarked upon by journalist James
Valentine in his report on his attendance at a Dark Mofo festival: “And then there
are the fires. Lots of them. Standing around them are groups of people warming
their hands. There’s no barriers around the braziers. You can walk right up to them.
It’s fantastic because what happens at a fire? You greet everyone and everyone
greets you. You immediately comment on the cold and then go straight to talking
about what you’ve just seen” (Valentine, 2016).
6 This claim is supported by Australian Council research, as reported in the Sydney
Morning Herald: “Tasmania has the highest per capita rate of people working in the
arts sector and attending arts events, based on figures provided by the Australia
Council compiled before the Museum of Old and New Art was opened last year”
(Taylor, 2012).
7 Mary Lijnzaad has stated, “There are a lot of businesses in Hobart that say … that
visitors brought to Hobart by MONA have saved their business. So, particularly in
hospitality, hotels that would ordinarily be almost shut at certain times of year, but
now have bookings … There’s a sense of responsibility with that” (Pennings and
Lijnzaad, 2016).
8 Mark Wilsden has also commented on this phenomenon: “Experiences like
MONA … make the locals proud about what they have got. That’s where ‘Our
MONA’ comes from, and undeniably in the last five years I have seen a strut in the
step of Hobart in general, whether that’s seen in our bars and restaurants, or other
retail, and other galleries. More confidence” (Pennings and Wilsden, 2016).
9 MONA is making a major contribution to tourism in the state and to the pride of
local people. Wilsden says, “We are fairly active in many sectors of the community,
and I think that gives us buy-in, and we have helped build a tribe. We have advo-
cates everywhere for what we do. The strongest advocate you can have for any
business is the local people. You want the taxi driver saying ‘You’ve got to go to
MONA’, or ‘I took my kids there last week’ or the person serving you coffee in your
hotel to say a similar, and that’s a personal testimonial that visitors take on its
merits, and are less inclined to listen to marketing or advertising … You have to
build the trust and support and buy-in from your local people. Whether it’s a
 David Walsh’s Museum of Old and New Art 179
festival, an experience like MONA, or a business, or a restaurant in a small town. If
you don’t have your locals who are prepared to go there and support it you’re losing
your best advocates” (Pennings and Wilsden, 2016). David Walsh has also stated,
“Between September and December 2015, 85 restaurants opened. They call it the
‘MONA effect’ and it is certainly promoting business” (Pennings and Walsh, 2016).
Griselda Murray Brown has also proposed, “As public art institutions attract
new visitors, they must strike a balance between treating them as an audience and
as a community. Fail to adapt to their changing desires and habits, and you risk
obsolescence. But lose sight of the fact that you are a place of culture and expertise,
and you might as well be an ace caff without the museum attached” (Brown, 2013).

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Conclusion
Susan Carson and Mark Pennings

The major themes in this book evolved while listening to national and
international conference presentations in the field of cultural tourism and
talking to colleagues about what it means to research ‘cultural tourism’. We
welcomed the inter-disciplinary nature of this field, and as researchers, we
appreciated the ways in which cultural tourism scholars consistently stimu-
lated the broader field of tourism studies by bringing expertise from their
diverse backgrounds to the fold. Performing cultural tourism therefore bears
the traces of dialogues that began when preparing papers for journals and
conferences and the discussions undertaken at conferences, and now presents
the work of colleagues who have so readily entered into the spirit of the
project.
Given the range of the authors’ scholarly interests, the chapters in this
collection offer a diversity of subject matter and approach that emphasises a
polyvocal sensibility. The spirit of the project was always to include the
voices, and the stories, of a broad range of participants who engaged with the
field of cultural tourism. Our rationale was to bring together new ideas about
how communities, creative producers, and visitors can productively engage in
an increasingly complex tourist environment in which there are competing
notions about experience and authenticity. We wanted to explore methodologies
that prioritize how community interests intersect with the desires of tourists
who want to engage more fully with what has been called the ‘backstage’,
including the ‘brokers’ in this ecology. We felt that whereas experiential ‘staging’
is well documented in tourism studies, there is less written about the diverse
types of experiences and expectations that visitors bring to the tourist space
and how host communities can respond to, or indeed challenge, these expec-
tations. For us the term ‘community’ could relate to a specific geography,
social, or cultural practice, or a virtual landscape, as all of these sites enable
the sharing of experiences between communities of producers and consumers
in tourist cultures.
The chapters in this collection represent these aspirations and have brought
new concepts and methodologies to this round table of ideas. Some chapters
directly represent the voice of a community participant and observer, such as
Patricia Santiago, who is engaged in the daily challenge of protecting local
 Conclusion 183
cultural traditions while attempting to boost tourism opportunities, or a
scholar such as Tim Middleton, who interrogated his own position as an
academic researcher and the nature of the academic scholarly practices he
undertook when pursuing literary tourism. In general, the authors in this
collection provide a range of new insights with a refreshing awareness of their
own position. In this context, the story of the land, as well as of the tourist
who traverses new territory, is of prime concern to many Indigenous com-
munities. Several contributors, such as Sally Butler, propose ideas about what
it is to undertake cultural tourism in Indigenous communities, while others
such as Ulrike Gretzel and Hilary du Cros examine the new frontiers of
tourist engagement with sites (and the tourist notion of self) via social media
platforms.
As contributors have elaborated upon their research experience a number
of insights have been brought to key areas; such as, an increasing emphasis on
tourism as a co-learning experience; the need to establish a cultural profile
that pays attention to community spirituality and the role of temporary or
elective belonging to a community; a reappraisal of ‘creative tourism’ in
developing cultural tourism; the role of a democratization of experience in
contemporary tourism; a changing global geo-economic framework that
includes renewed attention to China in which Eurocentric assumptions about
the operation of cultural tourism are shifting; the increasing focus on the
‘self ’ in both digital and non-digital modes of representation in tourism; and
the potential for creative tourism to boost tourism sectors by allowing creative
workers, and tourists, to innovate and ‘twist’ understandings of conventional
tourist behaviour. In brief, the research depicts the evolution of the cultural
tourism market as independent tourism competes with package tourism,
niche markets emerge, independent tourism is increasingly dispersed, and
virtual worlds complement the physical. In this complex scenario for instance
there is a growing demand for self-expression that does not necessarily focus
on destination as such, as Ulrike Gretzel discovers in her research on ‘selfies’.
One of the most persistent themes of the various chapters in this collection
is an emphasis on cultural tourism as an educative process in which both
consumers and providers negotiate the terms of this experience. If the historic
desire of the cultural tourist often has been to simply learn about other places
and cultures that assumption may no longer hold true: there is today instead
an equally powerful desire to learn from and about oneself in negotiation with
another community or site, and to place oneself in that location or event in an
act of self-representation that out-performs ‘gazing’ or even ‘doing’. This
drive to individualization can be mediated by digital platforms: the need to go
‘off the beaten track’ is often concomitant with sharing the track instantly
and globally with like-minded individualists. As Ulrike Gretzel points out,
such behaviours are contemporary innovations of long-established tourist
practices (such as travel photography). In arguing for a ‘visual turn’ to tourism
via social media Gretzel focuses on the way in which cultural understandings
should be a part of methodologies such as netnography, a concept that
184 Conclusion
connects to du Cros’s argument for a greater emphasis on the ‘why’ in tourism
research. Gretzel’s study of immersion through participant observation
speaks, as well, to Middleton’s interest in the process of capturing imaginative
contexts in self-guided travel.
For communities where local traditions and cultures are perceived to be
under threat there is a greater emphasis on community organization and the
development of appropriate management plans that begin with community
involvement rather than following a top-down regional or national approach
determined by other/outside parties. Authors such as Buzinde, Vandever and
Nyaupane, and Santiago document the way in which engaging with spiritual
aspects of a community can either promote or hinder effective management.
In this situation, intra-community tensions over tourism are aggravated by the
disruptions facilitated by ineffective regional or national programs. There is
an increasing awareness of the damage that can be wrought by mass tourism,
and cultural tourism is therefore seen as a way of achieving economic benefit
without losing local identity, working as it were, from the ground up. Com-
munities are seen to be attempting to envisage a new type of relationship with
‘outsiders’ in order to increase benefits to local regions, but also to educate as
Buzinde et al., Santiago, and Butler make clear in their chapters. The debates
over being inside or outside the tourist enterprise points to a community
concern over categorizing visitors who may be for a time, inside a community
or, in the case of residential stakeholders, both inside and outside of their
community. Sally Butler pays attention to such oscillation of activity and
positioning and argues for an alternative model of ‘temporary belonging’ to
replace ‘authenticity’.
This sense of inclusion/exclusion is also evident in major tourist cities,
which can also suffer from a process of exclusion when top-down management
of events that are major tourism draw cards do not work in favour of local
interests. One of the insights of the study of the post-2004 Olympic Games in
Athens is the way in which buildings designed for Olympic use have been
re-purposed for the housing of refugees. The stories of immigrants who are
seeking, and often denied, integration are framed by the structures of an
event that offered a Cultural Olympiad, and was intended to operate as an
assertion of national identity as well as an international sporting mega-event.
In many of the studies herein the role of ‘creative tourism’ is of increasing
interest. As Yang Zhang and Philip Xie note, creativity is a loaded word and
it follows that the concept of creative tourism is similarly challenging. How-
ever, many of these chapters note the pervasive impact of creative artifacts,
performances, and performers that are appropriated in the service of enhan-
cing heritage or bringing tourist populations to sites to engage in cultural
exchange. These authors argue for further research on cultural tourism from
the tourist perspective and draw attention to the way in which creative tourism
is a unique learning and participative experience.
In all chapters a shift in the power structures of tourism dynamics is
detected. Consumer-to-consumer, consumer-to-provider, and peer-to-peer
 Conclusion 185
negotiate their touristic role in locations and at events that offer visitors a stake,
whether authentic or not, in the process. Managers of major tourism sites must
now operate across these sectors and find ways of incorporating contemporary
events as leisure activities without diminishing the heritage, historic, or cultural
value for which they are responsible. In this context, UNESCO World Heritage
Sites, such as Cockatoo Island in New South Wales, Australia, and Port
Arthur Historic Sites in Tasmania, Australia, demonstrate ways in which
placating visitors’ desire for ‘performativity’ means developing open narratives
that include events that may have a traumatic impact on the site (and, in the
case of Port Arthur, an event that had national political and social impact), as
well as protecting an environment that supports a World Heritage listing. The
role of spectacles as a mechanism of cultural tourism development appears in
the studies of Macau and that city’s vernacular heritage, as well as in the
analysis of former convict sites in Australia.
Many of the narratives that have emerged in recent tourism phenomena
develop increasingly through a methodology of negotiation and cooperation
with stakeholders and community. At the Museum of Old and New Art
(MONA) in Hobart, Tasmania, the art museum, an institution that normally
celebrates individual originality, is reconfigured in today’s realignment of
tourist interests to be both a site of art and a means of democratizing high
culture in a manner that both enhances and is nourished by the cultures of
local and global tourists. MONA sets out to be subversive and this ‘anti’ stance
has proved to be enormously popular. The technologies and methodologies
employed by this museum asks visitors to “back their own judgement” in a
museum-scape, and in so doing, contests the habitual way in which museums
have become business assets for promoting cultural tourism.
The rise of Chinese tourism, across independent/package/mass sectors now
has a significant influence on Asian tourism in general, according to Zhang
and Xie. The scholarship presented here examines the way in Eurocentric
frameworks of tourism are becoming diversified in the face of Chinese tourism
where the development of vernacular tourism has a major role to play in
tourism development. Hilary du Cros calls for research that discloses the dif-
ference in Asian and Anglo-American use of social media in order to better
establish a sense of collective identity for tourists seeking a new experience in
another land and culture.
Finally, the arguments developed around the digital are critical for under-
standing many trends in contemporary tourism and point to a need to
develop a greater understanding of the way in which mobile technologies offer
tourists and providers extraordinary opportunities in the consumption and
delivery of tourism services. With social media firmly in the foreground,
Hilary du Cros argues for an embrace of new approaches and makes the
point that issues such as trust, expertise, and reliability are central to the
future way in which tourists will use peer-to-peer networks rather than rely on
hospitality sites. Her research suggests that there are hidden anxieties (in this
case, of Asian youth) that may be revealed in further research, and that such
186 Conclusion
studies might complicate the accepted picture of narcissistic tendencies and
self-representation in this demographic sample. The methodologies proposed
therefore are open and focused on the cultural, some would even say philo-
sophical, tendencies that appear to lie at the heart of practices of cultural
tourism that move forward in an era of what Marc Augé has called super-
modernity in which we live on global (and digitized) highways while dipping
in and out of localized experiences. It is this concentration of highways,
byways, new communicative trajectories, and new modes of cultural cognizance
that facilitate terms such as cooperation, exchange, creative tourism, nego-
tiation, and temporary belonging in contemporary forms of cultural tourism,
and it is these that constitute the conceptual schema of this text.

References
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Index

798 art district, Beijing 110 Bac Chrom 91–3

“9+2” Cooperation 104 Baguio City 34
Baguio-Sagada-Banaue route 32
Abe, S. 167 Bakhtin, M. 172
Aboriginal Land Council 20 Balfousia-Savva, S. 150
Abu Dhabi 8, 141, 164, 167–8 Balham, London 84
Achnaba 91 Banaue 34
Acropolis 158 Banks, I. 6, 81, 88, 91–5
Adams, T.E. 82 Barcelona Creative Tourism 102
aesthetics 121 Barney, M. 176
Agrawal, A. 44–5 Beashel, E. 140–1
Aitchison, W. 2–3 Beatrix Potter 83; Hill Top 83
Albergue da Santa Casa da Begnas 35
Misericórdia Macau (SCM) 7, 100, Belting, H. 175
104–5, 108, 110 Bennett Freeze 47–8, 51, 53–4
American Community Survey 47 Bentham, J. 136
Anglo-American 72, 185 Bianchi, R. 133
Arafura Swamp 25 Biennale of Sydney 140
Architectural Heritage Conservation 38 Bilbao 169
Argyll 81, 88, 92, 94 Biloela Industrial School for
Arinduque, E. 33 Girls and Reformatory for
Arizona 46; Arizona State University 49 Females 136
Arnhem Land 21 Blackhouse 93
Arnhemweavers 5, 21, 23–5 Bobos 106
Ashman, R. 123 Bomod-ok Falls 32
Asia, independent travel 67 Bontoc 39
Asian heritage 70; tourism 67, 185; youth Boorstin, D. 83
63, 68, 70, 77 Bosque Redondo, New
Athens Olympic Games infrastructure 8, Mexico 46
150–6, 159–61 Bowen, J.T. 102
ATHENS 2004–Culture 159, 161 Bowring, J. 143
Athens: cultural tourism 159–61; Broad Arrow Café 138
transport 153–4 Brown, L. 81
Athens Organising Committee 159 Bruny Island 141
Augé, M. 186 Bula’bula Arts 24–5
Australia 13, 131–2, 164, 173, 175, Burning Man 172
185; economy 168; history 135, 138; Business-to-consumer (B2C) 64
tourism 168–9; cultural tourism 133, Butler, S. 2, 5, 13, 184
182; see also Indigenous tourism Buzinde, C.N. 4–6, 44, 184
188 Index
Calatrava, S. 153 Dalriada Project 88, 94–5
Cale, J. 171 Daly, P. 133
Cannes Film Festival 25 Dap-ay 35
Canniford, R. 117 Dark Mofo 171–3, 177
Carmichael, L. 175, 177 Dawson, P. 150
Carnasserie Castle 91, 94 De Certeau, M. 134, 138
carnivalesque 172 Delphi 158–9
Carson, S. 1, 7, 131 de los Ángeles Plaza-Mejia, M. 103
Catwalk Economy 166 democratization of experience 164–5,
Cave, N. 171 169–71, 177, 183
caves 32; Biodiversity Management Dennis, C. 66
Bureau 32; Sumaguing Cave 32; Derwent River 172
Lumiang Burial Cave 32–3 DinéHózhó 50–1
Centre for Education and Research in Dinhopl, A. 115–17, 120
Environmental Strategies (CERES) Disneyland 164
23–4 DIY Santa Fe 102
Cheang, V. 102 Doohan, K. 18–19, 21
Cheong, S.M. 133 Douban.com 71, 73–4
Choi, J. 117 Du Cros, H. 2–7, 63, 183–5
Cockatoo Island 7, 132–7, 139–40, Dugao, J. 33
142–3 Dunadd 88, 94
Cocossis, H. 156
Coghlan, A. 81 Edensor, T. 138
Cohen, E. 131, 134 Ek, R. 166
Cohen, S.A. 131, 134 Eliot, T.S. 17
Coleman, S. 14, 16–17 Ellis, C. 82
Coleridge, S.T. 84; ‘Ancient Mariner’ 84; Ellis, C.B. 47
‘Christabel’ 84; ‘Kubla Khan’ 84 England 6, 81, 84, 87, 136; English 70,
community 182–6 72–4
Community-based participatory research Episcopal Church 34, 38
(CBPR) 6, 45, 50–1, 54, 57 Ernabella 20
community homelands 20 ethnography 7, 69; autoethnography
community organization 54 81–2, 85–7; virtual ethnography 66,
Connel airfield 91 68–9, 71–2
Consumer-to-consumer (C2C) 64, 184 Eurocentric 3, 183, 185
consumption 7, 63, 69–70, 76, 99–102, European Union and the Community
110, 116, 131, 136, 185 Support Framework 153
convicts 135; convictism 135–6, 139, experiencescapes 8, 99–100, 164–7; Abu
141; UNESCO Australian convict Dhabi 8, 141, 164, 167–8; M+, West
sites 132 Kowloon 8, 164, 167–8; Saadiyat
Cordillera 29 Island 8, 164, 167
Cothelstone Hill 87 e-word of mouth (eWOM)
Crang, M. 14, 16–17 64–7, 70
creative industries 38, 99–100, 104, 132;
Creative Life Industries 102 Facebook 53, 63, 171
Creative Paris 102 Fawcett, S.B. 55
creative tourism 7, 99–104, 106–11, 183–6 “Feast of Fools” 172
Crete 158 Filo, K. 81
Crouch, D. 134 Finland 150; Porvoo 102
Crow Canyon Archeological Center 46 Flaherty, G.T. 117
cultural distance (CD) 67–8, 77 flashpacking 70
Cultural Olympiad 158–9, 161, 184 Football World Cup 167
Cultural Tourism Management Plan 38 Foucault, M. 133–6
cybercommunities 71 Franklin, A. 172
 Index 189
Freegapper.com 71 Indigenous art 13
Frew, E. 133, 138 Indigenous communities 2–3, 5–6, 183
Indigenous culture: Navajo 6, 44
General Management Plan (GMP) 48 Indigenous knowledge 3, 44
geo-economics 166; geolocation 137 Indigenous tourism: Australia 2, 5, 18–9
Germann Molz, J. 69–71 Indonesia 67
Ghosts of Biloela 137 In Pursuit of Spring 81, 84, 87
GIS mapping 52 Instagram 4, 115, 117–25, 142
glamping 134 Internet 64–5, 71
Glass, P. 171 Internet forums 67–8, 71
Goffman, E. 2 International Council on Monuments
Goldsmith, R.E. 64 and Sites (ICOMOS) 38
Gordin, V. 102 International Passenger Survey 83
Government House, Parramatta 141 Israel, B.A. 51, 54
GPS 92
Grand Canyon National Park 46–7 Japan 167; Japanese colonial era 100;
Greatorex, J. 22 ryokans 66–7; Tokyo 67
Greece 4, 8, 147, 150–3, 156, 158–60; Jayawardhena, C. 66
archeological sites 158; community Jimura, T. 66–7, 77
156; cultural tourism 151, 156; Johnston, J. 171, 176
heritage 158; museums 158–9
Greece economy 150, 155; economic Kaiser-Mayer-Olkin (KMO) 108
crisis 160 Kankanaeys 29, 34
Gregory, N. 17–19 Kao, Y. 109
Gretzel, U. 3–5, 7, 115–17, 120, 183–4 Kasimati, V. 4, 8, 147, 150
Guggenheim 167, 169, 176 Kathimerini 155
Gulian, D. 37 Katsalidis, N. 168
Gunn, C. 48 Kerley, E. 46, 51
Kidnapped 93
Haasts Bluff 25 Kilmartin Glen 88, 91, 93–4
Hadid, Z. 167 Kilve 84
Halsema Highway 29–30 Kozinets, R.V. 119, 123
Hannam, K. 1, 131 Kuon, V. 136
Hardy, T. 82, 85
Harry Potter 93, 138 Lake District, England 83
Hart Island, New York 143 Lasch, C. 69
Hartmann, J. 7, 131 Las Vegas 103
hashtags 118–19, 121–2, 124–5 Lau, G. 68
Herzog & de Meuron 168 Leal Senado square 104
Hiller, H. 150 Leung, D. 65
Historic Preservation Department 50 Lewis, C.S. 93
Hobart 135, 139, 141, 168–9, 173, 176, 185 Lijnzaad, M. 172
Hodgman, W. 173 Likert scale 72, 105
Hollinshead, K. 136 Lindroth, K. 102
Homelands movement 22 literary tourism 81, 83–5, 87–8, 93, 95;
Hong Kong 2, 63, 67–8, 72–7, 104, 106, Scotland 93; self-guided 3, 81, 83–93,
168; Hong Kong Tourism Board 75 133, 135, 139, 184
Hopi 46 Litvin, S. 64
Huang, L. 109 Lo, I.S. 116
Huashan 1914 Creative Park 100 Loch Coille Bharr 91
Hyde Park Barracks 141 Lochgair 88
Loch Glashen 91
Igorots 33–4, 39 London 85; anti-capitalist tour 3
Ikuntji Artists 25 Lonely Planet 169
190 Index
Louvre, The 167 Navajo 6, 44–8, 50, 52–4; U.S. Navajo
Luu, O.M. 138 Treaty 46 see also indigenous culture
Navajo Nation 6, 45; Comprehensive
Macau 7, 68, 100, 103–6, 110–11, 185; Economic Development Strategy 47;
Center of Creative Industry 104; Department of Natural Resources
Chinese tourism 71, 100, 106, 110–11; (NNDNR) 50, 52; Fish and Wildlife
Creative Space 104; Government Department 50; Parks and Recreation
Tourism Administration 104 Department (NNPRD) 46–54
MacCannell, D. 2–3, 83 Neo-liberalism 165
mac Erc, F. 88 Nether Stowey 84
Magasic, M. 117 netnography 7, 66–7, 119, 183
Maitland, R. 101 New Mexico 46, 102
Malaysia 67 New York Times 169
Mandarin 70 New Yorker 169
Manila 29–31 New Zealand 101–2
Mäpuru 5, 21–5 Noll, R.G. 147
Martin, D. 67 Nyaupane, G. 4, 6, 44, 184
Mascheroni, G. 69
Matetskaya, M. 102 Obama, B. 47
Max Gate house 85 Observer 87
McKercher, B. 68, 116 O’Dell, T. 99, 101, 103, 166
Meades, J. 142 ‘O’ Device 164, 170–1, 173, 177
Mediterranean islands 31 Olympia 159
Merrilees, B. 66 Olympic 147; development projects 153;
Middleton, T. 5–7, 81, 183–4 funding 153; Greek Olympic
migrants 156 committee 153, 155; International
Miller, D. 118; Miller, D. et al. 117, Olympic Committee 147, 155
119, 121 Olympic Games: Athens 4, 147, 150–1,
Miller, M.L. 133 153–4, 159, 161, 184; Atlanta 151;
Minnaert, L. 160 Barcelona 150; Beijing 155, 160; Japan
missionaries: American Christian 35 167; London 155; Los Angeles 151;
Model prison 136 mega-events 167; Rio de Janiero 167
Moufakkir, O. 68 Ooi, C.S. 4–5
Mt. Kiltepan 32 Ousby, I. 92
MTR Hong Kong subway 73 Outlander 93–4
Mulach Mor 92 Ox Warehouse 100
Munar, A. 4–5
Mung Mung, P. 21 Pan, B. 64
Murphy, P. 102 panopticon 136
Museum of Old and New Art (MONA) Papanikos, G. 150
8, 141, 164–5, 168–77, 185 Paralympic Games 159; athletes 159
Museum of Old and New Art: Paris, C.M. 69–71, 117
Festival of Art and Music (MONA Patterson, A. (2002) 88
FOMA) 171 Patterson, A. (2016) 123
museum-scape 185 Pennings, M. 8, 164, 182
People’s Republic of China 67, 76–7,
narcissism 6, 63, 69–70, 76 100, 104–5, 107, 110–11, 141; cultural
National Aboriginal and Islander Day of tourism 183; tourism 185
Observance (NAIDOC) 17 performativity 3, 8, 131, 133–4, 137, 139,
National Commission for Culture and 141–2, 173, 177, 185; see also
the Arts 38 Cockatoo Island
National Trust 82, 85 Philippines Mines and Geosciences
Native American 44–6, 53 Bureau 33
Nature Philosophy 24 Philippines 5, 29, 38, 41, 67
 Index 191
Pietschnig, J. 117 Shanghai 110
Pink Night festival 99 Shanks, M. 115
Planning development: Local ‘Shipyard Stories’ 142
Development Plans 37; Siegfried, J. 147
Comprehensive Land Use Plans 37 Silk, M. 155
Porras-Bueno, N. 103 Singapore 67
Port Arthur 7, 132–6, 138–9, 141–3, 185; Slockavullin 91–2
Historic Sites Management Authority slow travel 73–5
(PAHSMA) 135, 138; historic Smith, B. 102
settlement 133; Historic Sites Smith, Bernard 16
Tasmania (PAHST) 7, 132, 134–5, Smith, M. 141
138, 185; Memorial Garden 138; Sociedade de Turismo e Diversões de
Separate Prison 136 Macau (STDM) 103
Port Arthur massacre 133 social media 1, 3, 6–7, 63, 65–6,
Portuguese 68, 100, 103–4 69, 71, 75–6, 106–25, 132, 171,
post-Olympic Games 150, 160; 183–5
assets and facilities 155, 160; Somerset, England 84
heritage 161 ‘Songlines’ (poem) 17–19
Preece, T. 142 Songshan Cultural and Creative
Price, G.G. 142 Park 100
Pritchard, M.P. 102 Sotiriadis, M. 65–6
prosumer 101, 142 South China Sea 100
Southeast Asia 35
Quantock Hills 84, 87 South Korea 67, 73, 117
Qyer.com 71 Squire, S. 83
St. Lazarus (San Lazaro) 100
Ramingining 24–5 St. Petersburg, Russia 102
Rankin, I. 93 St. Scholastica College 31
Rasalan, J. 32 supermodernity 186
Raw Spirit 92 Svabo, C. 115
Raymond, C. 99, 101 Sydney 7, 132, 134–5, 141–3;
Reiser, M. 88 Biennale 140; Harbour 132, 134, 140;
Rettberg, J.W. 117 Harbour Federation Trust 132, 136,
Richards, G. 7, 30, 44, 99, 101–2, 106 139–40
Rifai, T. 166
Ripapa Island, Christchurch 143 Taiwan 67, 74–5, 100, 102, 106;
Rogers, S. 38 Taipei 100
Rogers, S.B. 34 Tasmania 7–8, 132–3, 135–6, 139, 141,
Rokka, J. 117, 123 164–5, 168–9, 172–7, 185
Royal Commission into Public Tasmanian government 172
Charities 137 Tasmanian tourism 139, 165, 177
Ten Canoes 25
Sagada 5, 29 Thailand 67
Sagada Weaving 33 Tharoor, K. 167
Salisbury 84 The Crow Road 81, 88, 92, 95
Santiago, P. 3–6, 29, 182, 184 The Hollow Men 17
Scherrer, P. 18–19, 21 The South Country 84
Scholz, T. 69–70, 76 Thomas, E. 6, 81, 84–90, 95
Scotland, history and culture 88, 92–4 Thorntree 71, 73
Scotland Visitor Survey 93 Timothy, D.J. 30
selfie 4–5, 7, 115–25, 183; aesthetic/artistic Toffler, A. 101
121; animals 122; contemplative 124; Tonnaer, A. 5, 19
drinks 123; ironic 124; mundane travel Tosun, C. 30
121; panoramic 123; sunglasses 122 tourist gaze 68, 115, 124, 133
192 Index
Treaty for the Protection of the World Warmun Artists Council 21
Cultural and Natural Heritage 158 Warren, D.M. 45
Trip Advisor 132, 139, 142–3 Waterton, E. 134
Turrell, J. 176 Watson, S. 134
Twitter 65–6, 76, 116, 171; see also Web 2.0 71
Weibo webnography 66
Wechat 111
UK South West: Tourism agency 82 Weibo 76; see also Twitter
Umaming, E. 34 Wendt, B. 116
Underbelly Arts Festival 137 WhatsApp 76
UNESCO 4, 132, 185 Wilsden, M. 171, 174, 176
United Nations World Tourism Organi- Wilson, J. 101
sation (UNWTO) 166 Winter Feast 173
United States of America 6, 46 Winter, T. 4, 133, 141
University of the Philippines 38 Wong, C. 68
University of Queensland 25 Woodside, A. 64, 67
‘Unkept Good Fridays’ 85 World Heritage 132, 141–2, 157–8, 185;
Urry, J. 68, 83, 85, 133 World Cultural Heritage List 104;
Utah 46 World Heritage Sites 141, 185; World
Uuyoyo.com 71 Heritage Status 142
World Travel and Tourism Council
Vagionis, N. 4, 8, 147 (WTTC) 166
Vandever, V. 4, 6, 44, 184 Wu, T.C.E. 109
Van House, N.A. 116
Van Zyl, C. 65 Xie, P. 5, 7, 99, 184–5
Vargas-Sánchez, A. 103 Xintiandi 110
Veraros, N. 150
vernacular tourism 185 Yamaji 18
Visit Britain 83, 85, 93 Yolngu 22–3, 25
Visit Scotland 93–4 YouTube 171

Walsh, D. 8, 164–5, 169–70, 172, 174, Zhang, Y. 5, 7, 99, 184–5

176, 179 Zika virus 167
Wanzi.cc 71 Zimbalist, A. 147