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Posts Tagged ‘tourism’

What, I wonder, is a mega event? This question arises from a Legco answer provided by our newly minted Secretary for Culture, Sports and Tourism, Ms Rosanna Law.

Ms Law gave a glowing report on her branch’s efforts to boost tourism. You might even wonder, reading her update on the situation, what her predecessor did wrong.

According to Ms Law, as reported in the China Daily, there were 110 mega events in the first half of this year. I do not remember hearing or reading about 110 events worthy of the “mega” label, which according to the Cambridge Dictionary means “very good or very big”.

And the fact that these events are allegedly happening at a rate of about 18 a month, or roughly one every two days, suggests that the adjective has been devalued by overuse. This suspicion was not dispelled by the China Daily, which illustrated the happy news with a picture of the Hong Kong Sevens, and in the article mentioned only the Art Basel culture fest. Both these events have been staged annually for many years. They may be well be “mega”, but giving the credit to the current Culture, Sports and Tourism bureaucracy seems a bit of a stretch.

Ms Law said the mega events had attracted 550,000 tourists who spent $2.4 billion, and also contributed a “value add” of $1.4 billion, a mysterious extra benefit which she did not explain. These are big numbers, at least until you look at the official Tourism Board visitor figures for the same period, which run to about 3.5 million per month.

Well the show goes on. Ms Law said $100 million had been earmarked for the Mega Events Coordination Group’s work over the next three years. It is difficult to know what is happening here. We do not know which of these events are a result of official inspiration, and which are items which were going on anyway, but were happy to sport the “mega event” label in return for a chance to bid for some cash and get free publicity when the Tourism Board, in Ms Law’s mellifluous phrase, “leveraged its global network to carry out publicity in the Chinese mainland and overseas.”

Doubts arise. As a product of the post-war baby boom I witnessed years of arguments in the UK about which activities should be undertaken by government and which by the private sector. But even avid seekers of public control of the “commanding heights of the economy” recognised that arts and culture were best left to voluntary and commercial effort. If subsidies were provided this should be done in a way insulated from official control, like the money given to universities.

The reason for this is the general experience that officially devised entertainments will be either uninspiring, loss-making or both.

There is, to put it politely, no evidence that Hong Kong is exceptional in this matter. Money effortlessly disappears in the Magic Kingdom, Ocean Park and Water World. The West Kowloon Cultural District is looking for a life boat, probably involving the fine art of selling expensive flats.

I seem to have caused some confusion last week by mentioning the Capital Works Fund in the same column as the third runway, which was not financed that way. Besides milking passing passengers the airport took on $110 trillion of debt – which whatever the fine print says is effectively backed by the Hong Kong government.

My point was that having a huge pile of money which could only be spent on building encouraged a mindset in which any pyramid, sphinx or ziggurat could be erected free from financial concerns because the supply of money was apparently unlimited. This led to extravagant choices, of which the third runway was one.

The idea that events should be supported by an all-purpose body selecting items on the basis of their prospects as tourist attractions is another. How are meaningful comparisons to be made between – say – a golf tournament, a performance of Aida and a chance to be bored in a conference centre by the CEOs of several international companies?

Money will be spent, certainly, but much of it will be wasted on events which would have happened anyway, or events to which the “mega” label is a polite joke. What is to be done?

In the long run we need perhaps to consider that erecting a pyramid without considering the running costs is a recipe for unhappiness. Museums and theatres are not supposed to make money. They are supposed to be provided as a service to the public and this implies a willingness to provide continuing support.

We also need to consider that what is happening today is not always a reliable guide to what will happen tomorrow. Shit, as they say, happens. Since the handover Hong Kong has had to deal with an Asian financial crisis, two political upheavals, and two epidemics. Technologies and tastes have changed rapidly. The rosy scenario is not always the one we get.

More immediately, as the government is wallowing in a financial crisis, perhaps they could start by cancelling the Mega Events Coordination Group and saving $100 million. The government’s role in fostering mega events should be confined to ensuring there are suitable venues for them. Left to themselves, the relevant industries will produce a steady flow of conferences, festivals, shows, opportunities to buy expensive items or to watch Lionel Messi watch a football match. The SAR government can stay out of show business.

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The MTR has opened a new shopping mall in Tai Wai, naturally next to the station, called the Wai. This has now displaced Festival Walk as my destination for the weekly Big Shopping Spasm. Oddly, the attraction is not what is there, but what is not there.

In many ways the Wai is much like other malls. It was designed in the modern shopping mall style, which seems intended to maximise the chances of visitors getting lost. All the floors are different shapes; there are few straight lines; escalators are distributed randomly.

The entrance to the car park is also discouraging. You drive four stories down a long and winding spiral road featuring narrow spaces and tight turns. Within days of the mall opening the walls of this road were generously decorated with scrape marks and paint deposits by errant drivers.

The supermarket is, even by Hong Kong standards, a weird shape. Few of our supermarkets follow the boring Western style of floor plan, a large rectangle. The Wai’s supermarket (a Marketplace, Wellcome’s version of Taste; usual local stuff but cosmopolitan decadence also catered for with sushi, choice of cheeses, large wine department etc) is shaped like a deformed dumbell.

What is not there? The tourist traps. There are no international vendors of make-up, perfume, or brand-name handbags, no offerings of watches with real clockwork for the price of a small car, no gold shops. In at least six visits I have only seen one wheeled suitcase.

I have no prejudice, racial or otherwise, against mainlanders. But tourism is an industry which brings benefits to some people and costs to others, a point which seems lost on our government. There is such a thing as enough. Places with Pinterest-worthy attractions have discovered this and acted accordingly. Venice, for example, restricts cruise liners. Barcelona is discouraging Airbnb. Yosemite rations access.

I do not suggest anything like that for Hong Kong. But official dreamers need to recognise that outside the developer hegemony, which has a vested interest in astronomical shop rents, most local people regard visitors to the city like visitors to their home: welcome in limited quantities and at limited times… as long as they behave themselves.

Tourists who congregate at particular spots, as they tend to do, can quickly become an unwelcome part of the scenery. Hong Kong U students have been complaining of tourists gate-crashing their lecturers and photographing the proceedings. I know where this is going. Oxford and Cambridge colleges routinely refuse to admit visitors at all.

Photogenic spots generally may lose their allure if they become a perpetual crowd scene.

This may be a problem which is on the way to solving itself. My early journalism career was spent mostly in fading resorts on the coast of North Lancashire. Morecambe was at the time the butt of cruel jokes. Sample: if you die in Morecambe they prop you up in a bus shelter to make the place look more busy. Blackpool was part-way down the slope which has left it, according to current reports, in many ways the most deprived town in England.

One of the symptoms of decay was a chorus of complaints from local hosts of various kinds that people were no longer coming from a long way away, and as a result visitors did not stay overnight. Most visitors were from nearby towns; they ate their fish and chips, had a few beers and went home the same day.

Another symptom was the increasingly frantic efforts of the local authorities concerned to find some interesting new attraction which would renew the flow of overnight visitors. These rarely seemed to make much difference. Is any of this beginning to sound familiar?

Of course tourist towns can go up as well as down. Historians of the European spa enthusiasm noted the way in which particular spots would suddenly become top destinations after a visit from the Tsar, or the invention of a new bogus water cure. Tourism is like the restaurant business: you are at the mercy of fickle consumers, wafted by the winds of fashion. However good the food, next year’s hot item may steal your customers.

So the search for the secret sauce goes on. Unfortunately it is difficult to be confident that a magical new ingredient will come from an establishment run by mainland officials and recycled policemen. Holiday destinations, like Homeric heroes, are judged by what they are, not by what they do. Hong Kong used to be regarded as a fun place. Now it is not. A shortage of firework displays is not the problem.

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