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Family holidays to Tenby or perhaps the south coast, A school trip to London once a year at the most, Where ever we went we always had a great view, But the three billion I was born into, has become seven point two. Destinations I visited when a student in my teens, Were traveled to by hitching, I hadn’t other means, They were exotic and special, visited only by a few, Then the travel industry took over, expanded and grew. Today those same places are a hellish tourist trap, Oh! if only they had kept their secrets under wrap, The visitors who crowd in to see something rare, Are destroying the very thing that they’re visiting there. Flash fades classic frescoes, touch discolours artifacts’ brass, Clambering over ancient ruins to snap selfies, so ironically crass, Traffic jams of gondolas filled with Venetian sight seers, Tourist blight is a growing curse with the passing of years. The locals feel alienated by superficial foreigners they host, The airlines jet them in, liners dock at the coast, Growing affluence means more tourists are set to arrive, Our old cities and monuments will struggle to survive. So we search to find new venues where no-one else goes, Then Palin or Lumley feature that gem on their travel shows, Even on a Himalayan trek it’s sure that you’ll find, Previous climbing parties’ trash naively left behind. |