Chapter 1
Places to play, places in play
Mimi Sheller and John Urry
Introduction
This book is about how places to play are also places in play: made and remade by the mobilities and performances of tourists and workers, images and heritage, the latest fashions and the newest diseases. The playfulness of place is in part about the urge to travel elsewhere, the pleasure of immersing oneself in another environment, and the fascination with little differences in the materiality of the world. What is it that provokes a fascination for other places? What makes a place desirable to visit? And even if we desire that other place, why do we actually go through the trouble of physically visiting it? Why be in another place? What are the pleasures it can give that are only available through our physical presence?
But beyond that, the playfulness of place is also about the ways in which places themselves are always âon the moveâ. Places are âperformedâ, often on a kind of global stage, and in these performances they are put into play in relation to other places, becoming more or less desirable, more or less visited. Places consist of physical stuff, which is itself always in motion: new hotel developments, airports and roads, eroding beaches and erupting volcanoes, stinging mosquitoes and deadly viruses â a place can bite back. So we also ask: what needs to be mobilized in order to make a particular kind of place, such as a beach, a city, or a heritage site? How much are places being remade in order to draw in and to capture people on the move? If we are elsewhere with many other people, what does this do to those places? How are places to play stabilized and assembled, and how are they undone and surpassed?
We refer to âtourism mobilitiesâ, then, not simply in order to state the obvious (that tourism is a form of mobility), but to highlight that many different mobilities inform tourism, shape the places where tourism is performed, and drive the making and unmaking of tourist destinations. Mobilities of people and objects, airplanes and suitcases, plants and animals, images and brands, data systems and satellites, all go into âdoingâ tourism. Tourism also concerns the relational mobilizations of memories and performances, gendered and racialized bodies, emotions and atmospheres. Places have multiple contested meanings that often produce disruptions and disjunctures. Tourism mobilities involve complex combinations of movement and stillness, realities and fantasies, play and work.
In this introductory chapter we begin by briefly describing contemporary tourism mobilities, mobilities that increasingly constitute global relationships generally. We then set out our approach to examining places to play and places in play, an approach that looks at diverse systems that contingently orchestrate, organize, and perform these âurgesâ to be elsewhere and these materializations of places that become the objects of desire. We outline some themes that are developed in the chapters that follow, dealing with places to play in Central and South America, Australia, India, East Asia, the Caribbean, the Mediterranean, and the north Atlantic, as well as âround-the-worldâ travel. But first let us preview the structure of the book.
Part 1, âPerforming paradiseâ, focuses on the beach and the island as particular sites of play. In the iconography of contemporary tourism beaches are the global paradise, places of leisure, nakedness, pleasure, and exhibitionism (Corbin 1994; Löfgren 1999).1 The Caribbean especially has come to signify a place of playful sensuality that sets the âEdenicâ standard for beaches the world over (chapter 2); even in a way for supposed âeco-touristsâ whose desire to get âclose to natureâ leads places to be transformed and sands shifted for their play (chapter 4). But we also show how there are other beaches, beaches of movement, where surfers dwell in a shelter of moving water, the tube, a dynamic place of transcendence where surfers and their soundtracks play (chapter 5). And we examine the rise and fall of beach destinations like Ayia Napa in Cyprus (chapter 3), suggesting how entire islands sway to the fickle flows of tourism.
Part 2, âPerformances of global heritageâ, explores how heritage is mobilized within and through tourism, staged and performed in museums, World Heritage Sites, and âhistoricâ places. The invention of tradition, heritage, and cultural memory always has ârealâ effects: rebranding a place often occurs through a material âface-liftâ in which entire areas are rebuilt, restructured and renamed, often as âheritageâ sites (chapters 6, 7, and 10). Global flows of tourism and capital touch down in local places, transforming localities yet also being subjected to âglocalizationâ effects and divergent temporalities (chapters 6, 9, and 10). And in museums, cultures and bodies are put into play as transnational connections are made and un-made, and distinctions (of class, gender, and national âhabitusâ) worked and reworked through time and space (chapters 8 and 9).
In Part 3, âRemaking playful placesâ, the contributions turn to the remaking of global cities as key sites where the mobilities of tourism are unleashed. On the one hand we explore how cities like Hong Kong and Barcelona refashion their built environments and their inter-textual signification to perform as âattractionsâ on a highly competitive global stage of âworld-classâ destinations (chapters 11 and 12). On the other hand we also examine the far more devalued urban landscapes of high-rise suburbs of European poverty (chapter 13) and the semi-mythic favelas of Rio de Janeiro (chapter 14) as places of danger and enthralment, monotony, and awesomeness. These are the new places of play at least for a kind of âpostmodern middle classâ both fascinated and repelled by their indescribable, indistinct, yet atmospheric post-apocalyptic urbanism.
In the final part, âNew playful placesâ, we challenge the conventional boundaries of tourism studies by turning to unexpected sites for tourist mobilities: people documenting their global travels for friends at home on round-the-world websites (chapter 15), man-made platforms (chapter 16), nuclear reactions (chapter 17), and places of death and decay (chapter 18). The meaning of place is itself in play in a world of risks, simulations, ever-mutating diseases, and terrorism. The final chapters of this book bring out how not all play is simply fun: places to play are often also places of disease, danger, and death, especially as the world is currently haunted both by global terrorism and global tourism. Tourism itself is thus in motion, becoming less predictable as changing notions of leisure, authenticity, and risk dramatically reshape global mobilities.
Tourism mobilities
âTravel and tourismâ is the largest industry in the world, accounting for 11.7 per cent of world GDP, 8 per cent of world export earnings, and 8 per cent of employment. This mobility affects almost everywhere, with the World Tourism Organization publishing tourism statistics for over 180 countries (WTO 2002). Almost no countries are not significant senders and receivers of visitors. Internationally there are over 700 million legal passenger arrivals each year (compared with 25 million in 1950) with a predicted 1 billion by 2010; there are 4 million air passengers each day; at any one time 300,000 passengers are in flight above the United States, equivalent to a substantial city; one-half of British adults took a flight during 2001; globally there is one car for every 8.6 people, with a predicted threefold increase in car travel between 1990 and 2030. Such mobility is highly significant for the global environment, accounting for one-third of total CO2 emissions (see Urry 2003a, for data sources), and contributing to the rising sea levels that are already threatening to submerge many current places to play.
Many places are being put into play due to the increasingly global character of these contemporary mobilities. The 1990s have seen remarkable âtime-space compressionâ as people across the globe have been brought âcloserâ through various technologies. There is an apparent âdeath of distanceâ in what is sometimes described as a fluid and speeded-up âliquid modernityâ (Bauman 2000). There are nearly 1 billion internet users worldwide, there are 1 billion TV sets, and new mobile phones are more common than landline phones. But this compression of time-space also stems from rapid flows of travellers, migrants, and tourists physically moving from place to place, from time to time. The scale of physical travel is immense, the largest ever âpeacefulâ movement of people across national borders. Almost all societies across the globe are transformed by flows of tourists, as place after place is reconfigured as recipients of such flows. This is not to say that such flows are âfreeâ, uncontained, or undirected; borders, gatekeepers, police, and security guards filter out âlegitimateâ tourists, with their tourist visas, from the 31 million refugees also at large in the world today whose arrivals, and detention, in new places are often highly contested.
These global mobilities presuppose the growth of âtourism reflexivityâ, a system of governmentality that ensures that increasing numbers of places around the world monitor, evaluate, and develop their âtourism potentialâ. This reflexivity involves identifying a placeâs location within the contours of geography, history, and culture that swirl around the globe, and locating their actual and potential material and semiotic resources. A good example of this is Havanaâs strange legacy of 1950s American cars and their metonymic capacity to signify 1950s American cultural imperialism in its pre-communist heyday. Reflexivity involves networks of systematic, regularized, and evaluative procedures that monitor, modify, and maximize each placeâs location within this turbulent global order. These networks âinventâ, produce, market, and circulate, especially through global TV and the internet, redesigned (and re-redesigned) âplacesâ and signs of their meaning. âTourism reflexivityâ involves the institutionalization of tourism studies (such as books like this one), as well as the development of many consultancy and design firms interlinked with local, national and international states, companies, voluntary associations, and NGOs.2 Almost everywhere, it seems, can be subject to signing and re-designing, even places such as Las Vegas that seem in the past to have had a very fixed âplacingâ upon the global stage (see Rothman 2002).
Indeed more generally, there is an incredible range of employment now found within global tourism. Most people across the globe cannot fail to be implicated within, or affected by, these circuits of tourism and travel. Such employment includes travel agencies; transportation; hospitality; bars, clubs, restaurants, and cafés; architecture, design, and consultancy; media to circulate images through print, TV, news, and the internet; arts and sports events and festivals; and NGO campaigns for and against tourist developments. The growth of the tourism industry also more widely reshapes patterns of urbanization, of infrastructure development (roads, airports, ports), of agriculture and food importation, of cultural production and performance, with implications for almost every economic sector. Such cities provide, according to Rothman, the vision of the twenty-first century as shown in the recent re-placing of Las Vegas as a family entertainment centre (2002).
If tourism is transforming the materiality of many ârealâ places, it is also having a deep impact on the creation of virtual realities and fantasized places. There are enormously powerful and ubiquitous global brands or logos that increasingly feature tourist sites/sights as key components of the global culture that their brand speaks to and enhances. Corporations over the last two decades have shifted from manufacturing products to producing brands, involving enormous marketing, design, sponsorship, public relations, and advertising expenditure. These brand companies include many in travel and leisure: Disney, Hilton, Nike, Gap, Easyjet, Body Shop, Virgin, Club Med, Starbucks, Coca Cola, and so on. These brands produce âconceptsâ or âlife-stylesâ: âliberated from the real-world burdens of stores and product manufacturing, these brands are free to soar, less as the dissemination of goods and services than as collective hallucinationsâ (Klein 2000: 22). These lifestyle concepts revolve around generic types of places to play: the hotel pool, the waterside cafĂ©/restaurant, the cosmopolitan city, the hotel buffet, the theme park, the cocktail, the club, the airport lounge, the bronzed tan, exotic dancing, and the global beach (see Löfgren 1999, on the last; and Rothman 2002, on Coca-Colaâs role in the replacing of Las Vegas). Virtual places to play can also be built from scratch (chapter 16), built from memories (chapter 8), or built on the internet (chapter 15).
If tourism sometimes feels âunrealâ, it nevertheless still mobilizes bodies in sensuous encounters with the physical world. Physical challenges such as surfing (chapter 5), hiking to Machu Picchu (chapter 7), becoming a Viking shipbuilder and sailor (chapter 8), or surviving urban âzones of riskâ (chapters 13 and 14) allow the tourist to put his or her own body into play. As Löfgren writes:
The grammar of landscape experiences includes all the different tourist forms of âtaking in a landscapeâ: to traverse it, pass through it or past it, to dwell in it, sense it, be part of it ⊠landscapes are produced by movement, both of the senses and of the body.
(2004: 106)
Places are not simply encountered, then, but are performed through embodied play. This playfulness requires equipment for the body: hiking shoes and backpacks, discreet cameras and hidden money belts, bathing suits and towels for more or less naked sun-worship, or suitable outfits for dancing. It also requires equipping of the place: signs and walkways, railways and armoured cars, replica historical heritage and postmodern iconic buildings. These micro-mob...