by Wayne Pan, MESPOMJuly 15, 2008
The bus-ride seemed almost never-ending, and the twists, turns, and changesin altitude were already taking their toll on my fellow passengers. Two hours of driving time from Mytilini, we knew we were close to Sigri, but didn’t quite know when we’d get there. Just as the queasiness began to take hold though, we rounded a bend and the calming blue water of the Aegean Sea was spread out before us. Tucked neatly on the edge of the water was the small fishing village of Sigri, white walls and red roofs glistening enticingly. A few more minutes, and we could step off the bus and into the village that lay, as they say, at the end of the road.
Located on at the western edge of Lesvos, Sigri is a sleepy little village that 400 or so people call home. It claims as its own the Natural History Museum (that educates visitors about the surrounding Petrified Forests) and the remains of a castle that date back to the 18th century. These, in addition to its laid-back atmosphere, wonderfully narrow and curvy alleys, bleached white walled and red-roofed buildings, tranquil sandy beaches, and delectable seafood-heavy Greek cuisine make Sigri an ideal place to enjoy a relaxing summer holiday. This is exactly what we found when we stepped off the bus on a bright and sunny day in June. After the hustle and bustle of Mytilini, a city that is 100 times more populated, Sigri was a welcome respite. Bright, intimate, and manageable, Sigri was the Greek village we had come to Greece to see. The people were nice, the architecture was emblematic, beaches and water were enticing, and best of all, the village was nearly devoid of tourists. As we took our first tour through the village, walking up and down the narrow and winding alleys, we wondered aloud – “why weren’t there more people here?”
Well, it turns out that there often are. We had apparently arrived in the month leading up to high season, when this sleepy fishing village would turn into a bustling tourist town with, by some local accounts, up to 2000 tourists coming through the town each day. This amount of traffic seemed implausible. Even if every restaurant were filled to capacity, every inch of the sand on the beaches covered by a sunbathing tourist, and every rental room occupied, it seems unlikely that Sigri could support so many people. Yet, even if it could, 2000 tourists would without a doubt, strip Sigri of all of its tranquility and intimacy. The question is then, how many tourists are too many for a small village like Sigri? It is pretty clear that today, there are few economic opportunities for the inhabitants of Sigri outside of tourism, yet the more successful the industry becomes in Sigri, the more visitors the city will have. While undoubtedly good for business, it is less clear how a “successful” tourism industry will impact the village and its surrounding environment.
Herein lies the basic contradiction in the development of a tourism industry. Fundamentally, the more successful tourism is, the more people it brings to a destination. At the same time, the greater the number of people, the greater the impact and the more likely that what makes that destination so appealing will be lost forever in the transition. By the time short-term gains are eschewed for longer-term thinking, it is often too late to regain what has been lost.
Fortunately, as the off-season here proves, Sigri has not yet lost its appeal. When there are
few tourists around, Sigri retains it’s quaint and quiet characteristics, inviting people to explore and acquaint themselves with its intimate charms. Any expansion of the high season in time period or number of visitors however presents a potential reality of irreversible damage and the loss of innocence. In the end, it is up to the residents of Sigri to decide what trade-offs in the fabric of their village they are ready to accept for the economic gain of greater tourist revenues.
