More tourism

Sofia doesn’t appear to have quite the same recent historical turbulence, but neither city has packaged an identity for selling on; neither, therefore, feels ‘touristy’. In the UK, we’ve had centuries of political and social consensus allowing national and cultural obsessions to develop and inform the navel gazing which has spawned a collective narcissism and pop culture, and a hothouse for attractions to erupt with all manner of trivial themes. So there. In ‘not so well off’ economies and in cities recovering from purges and invasions, tourism struggles or simply doesn’t exist.

A city without tourism is easier to imagine than to experience. Belgrade’s fort is spectacular, but the Tesla Museum comes closest to being a bona fide ‘tourist attraction’, complete with interactive exhibits and Tesla groupies (once the tour finished, the Museum’s four smallish rooms were assailed by a lone snapper, swooping display cases with tablet rigidly held out like a pillow ready to tackle a bloodless, tough old relative threatening to re-write their will). But it seems very odd in this accommodating and communicative stance.

The other odd thing about the Tesla Museum? It’s located in Belgrade for no other reason than Tesla was, by birth, Serbian. The inventor’s effects (including, somewhat mawkishly, his ashes) have been brought back to the city, and, err, that’s it. He apparently visited Belgrade once, but did none of his sciencey magic here, or anything else remembered by the museum or biographies. Until the museum was erected in rememberance.

Examples of tourism in Belgrade and Sofia:

(Bar actually may have a tourist winner in Stari Bar - its old town. I didn’t visit…. I did, however, visit Café Mozart - very nice too - though the only thing I could find linking Mozart and Montenegro was another Café Mozart, up the coast in Budva).

Belgrade has a fair few attractions, though most of these - including the Contemporary Art Gallery and National Museum - were closed.

Tourism

Generally speaking, “tourism” receives a bad press. It’s similar to being a Goth or voting Tory; a fair few do it, but usually do so with a sense of shame. I suppose the stereotype tourist is a brain-wiped member a descending crowd of Japanese or Americans with waddling, pastel coloured clothing, bum bags and noisy cameras consuming everything in its path.

Money extracting traps are, quite understandably, set for this type of person. As a result, and because of the ‘tourist’ stigma, those who see themselves as more esoteric or spiritual travellers are often reticent about activities which, however shabby and clichéd might, nonetheless, lead to learning about places they visit. But if ‘tourism’ includes visiting museums, historical sites, galleries, churches and the like, I’m “in”. Scorning the tatty obtrusive elements of overbearing tourism is one thing, but losing all its context and benefits seems reckless.

While every culture has a history, it doesn’t follow that every country or culture has an appetite for, or expertise in telling its stories. Or, indeed, in selling or ramming them down visitors’ throats. The UK is brazenly adept at wringing every last penny out of such opportunities. The same could be said for most Western Europe countries. In Blighty, we promote and people flock to such unpromising places as Madame Tussauds and Tower Bridge to have their wallets lightened and pictures taken next to cheerfully sanitised, blatantly odd icons. Making very little go an extremely long way seems to be the modus operandi behind the successes of contemporary phenomena like the Harry Potter Experience, or, from further afield, other novel attractions like museums dedicated to quilts (York), chips (Bruges) or barbed wire (Kansas).

At the time of visiting, neither Belgrade nor Sofia seemed geared up for tourists. Belgrade is still recovering from multiple invasions; it’s telling that among the city’s biggest draws are NATO’s 1999 bomb ruins, which look eerie in an otherwise slightly bland but perfectly pleasant part of the city.