Reflections on the Tourists

Ok, I know what it is to be a tourist, we do travel. Probably not as much as some of the others, but enough to know how the tourist feels. So I have been on both sides, and being a friendly, tidy kind of tourist, who wouldn't litter or go picking flowers in somebody else's garden, I expect the tourists who come to our village behave respectfully and thoughtfully too. I can not understand those who come all the way up to our mountain to this sleepy village that has only about 300 inhabitants in winter, and walk past you in the street with a brick face without even nodding in response to a buongiorno or ciao. Ok, I can understand they don't speak Italian, but you probably bother finding out a word for hello when you go to another country, don't you. There are some nice ones who reply even if in their own language. I was once a newcomer in this village and was on the receiving end of the locals who wouldn't say hello to me, and it bothered me, but I am now coming to understand why they are not all thrilled with the amount of tourists that come here. And not only the quantity but the quality of those, too. We used to live in the centre of the village, and one time having come back from a walk, I found German tourists sitting in the garden on the grass and my swing chair having a picnic, they seemed bothered about being caught, I have assured them in my bad German that they can stay and finish their picnic. They took it literally letting their dog run and dig around the vegetable patch for a long time, and when they finally left, I found a very disturbed garden, and their used tissues, and plastic bags... What's wrong with these people?! Aagh!

Now the season has just started, and the buses full of people arrive from all over Europe to visit the beautiful old-world kind of village with its narrow passages, old stone buildings and botanical garden with azaleas, rhododendrons, roses and jasmine... And when they live, they leave plastic bottles, their unfinished sandwiches and God knows what else tucked in between the stones in the dry stone walls, on the low roofs (?) or five steps away from the bins... It is not the empty annoyed buzz of the lamentation and rambling. I appeal to YOU, when You go traveling, keep this little blog post in mind, please!