One of the most worrisome aspects in the so-called “development” that has taken place in the last three decades in the world, and more in particular in a place like Spain, is the exponential speed at which the environment has degraded. In the Spanish case, this degradation is mainly on display at the Mediterranean coastline and the Canary and Balearic Islands, places whose presumable low-cost tourism charms have forged their doom.
A good example of this is the once paradisiacal San Antonio bay, in the worldwide renowned island of Ibiza; just a little spot in the Balearic Archipelago, all of which was blessed with a natural beauty and a cultural charm difficult to describe in words: heavenly beaches and coves, mountains combined with strait valleys in an ensemble of shiny green pinewoods, the Mediterranean Sea in its most crystalline version, lovely little towns perfectly integrated in the surrounding nature, a cultural and historical heritage dating many centuries back…
It was therefore not by chance that the Phoenicians chose the island of Ibiza as one of its main settlements in the whole Mediterranean region. The trace of the Phoenician civilisation can be found in several archaeological sites across the island, and its extraordinary influence in the history of Ibiza has led to one of the most fascinating and dramatic phenomena I have ever known about regarding present evidence of ancient cultures: A few decades ago there still were in Ibiza some few local shepherds who used to sing traditional songs which had been passed on to them by their ancestors, a typical example of the disappearing oral tradition. Those songs were however sang in a language that was completely unknown to them and, according to some experts, there was clear evidence that it was a branch of the ancient Phoenician language. The last of these shepherds already died, taking with him –much to his regret- a big part of a monumental cultural heritage, proof of which are also the traditional Ibizan costumes, full of Phoenician reminiscences.
Everyone will anyway agree that ancient history does not represent one of the major reasons for a massive tourist pilgrimage to Ibiza that started forty years ago. At that time, Ibiza was still a peaceful spot in the Spanish Mediterranean, whose progressive degradation basically followed the standard steps applied to so many other places by then. Ibiza first got a European reputation as a hippy gathering place, shortly after its name started to be connected with the alternative electronic music that could be heard in different venues across the island. In the blink of an eye, Ibiza became pretty much what can be seen today: one the most representative European showcases of collective hysterical stupidity, which has proved to be a very lucrative business for many scoundrels of all kinds, as well as a social and environmental tragedy for this land the Phoenicians so remarkably merged with. “Progress” it is called.
But even in a relatively small island like Ibiza, fully spoiled,  there have been different levels of degradation. The area of San Antonio bay, on the western side, is the worst possible example. The mistreatment suffered by this place, whose epicentre is the town of San Antonio, has all the necessary ingredients to understand what massive tourism has provided to Spain in terms of progress, development or whatever the fuck it is called.
About ninety per cent of the tourists who visit San Antonio are from the United Kingdom. This simple detail is in itself a reason for alarm. A short visit to San Antonio bay is the indisputable proof that the UK is the world’s largest exporter of wild drunkards, most of whom behave like most civic citizens once back in their exemplary country. This crap, to whom I have often heard they are feeding us poor primitive Spaniards with their low-quality tourism, do not even have that charitable merit. Most of the businesses of all types that can be found in the area are managed by Brits: hotels, shops, clubs… Every other complementary service to guarantee their barbaric fun is only a source of precarious jobs for the local population: night and daytime bus-lines, hotel staff and… of course, urban cleaners. Probably the highest-quality job their presence demands in terms of number of personnel is that of policeman.
So the economy of San Antonio bay is mainly based upon a seasonal invasion of English-speaking hordes, whose profit is mostly shared among foreign crooked businessmen and some few corrupted local politicians. All of it to the detriment of the environment, the well-being of the permanent population and the prospect of a more sustainable economic approach. However, there are people in this country who refuse to believe that the Spanish economy necessarily has to be dependent on massive low-quality foreign tourism coming from northern Europe, of which the British are the absolute champions.
But this type of tourism is not only bad in itself. It also generates some additional troubles: In the last twenty years, the Spanish coast has become one of the favourite permanent destinations for British criminals of all types, and San Antonio has received its share. How could they resist the temptation of living in a place with much better weather, surrounded by plenty of drunken countrymen peeing in the street, destroying the street furniture and even attacking peaceful citizens? Why look for a better place to make a living, start a dirty business or avoid the British law? And why should the British authorities care about the fact that their own criminals prefer to move elsewhere?
I would have preferred to write an article highlighting the natural wonders that can be found in San Antonio bay, from Cap Negret in the north to Cala Compte further south. I am also in favour of a sustainable kind of summer tourism that guarantees both fun and relax, without damaging the environment and degrading the characteristic ambiance of each place. However, none of this will be possible unless civism and social responsibility become real cornerstones in our society’s functioning, which is pretty close to science-fiction nowadays to say the least.
It is somewhat appalling to imagine what the Phoenicians would have felt like if they had been able to perform a time travel. Maybe something like “so many centuries of progress, for this…”. They would have certainly sailed elsewhere. Nevertheless, in the long run, it is impossible to sail away from human stupidity.