These are the last days of New Zealand’s forced isolation from the world’s tourists, and even the Milford Sound / Piopiotahi, considered the crown jewel of New Zealand’s natural landscape, is sparsely populated. Its beauty has long made it one of the biggest tourist attractions in the country. Despite being extremely remote – no mobile or wifi service, no shopping and restaurant complexes, a street in and out – the Milford Sound welcomed nearly 900,000 visitors in 2019, in a settlement with a permanent population of less than 200. pandemic struck, was expected to exceed 1 million. In a few days, the drawbridge will be broken and tourists from all over the world will be welcomed back. The government is trying to attract visitors, with Prime Minister Jacinda Arden embarking on her first international trip in two years to say the country is “open for business”. But it is also in the middle of an account of what its tourism future will look like – and a growing sense that things should not go back to the way they were. The central enigma plagues many scenic tourist spots: people are attracted to isolation, tranquility, untouched beauty – then their presence can jeopardize the very qualities that initially attracted them there. In Tripadvisor reviews from the days before the Milford pandemic, two issues come up again and again: the beauty of the place and the crowds of the peak season. Guests take pictures of a cruise ship on the Milford Sound. Photo: Sanka Vidanagama / NurPhoto / REX / Shutterstock “The place was full,” wrote one tourist. “Literally hundreds of people in all directions.” “Hordes of people,” said another. “Do not come here to live this beautiful place in seclusion.” “It’s incomparably wonderful and awe-inspiring. It is also a tourist machine. “A huge number of people get here every day by bus, plane, car and helicopter.” “Everything that is wonderful and horrible for tourism.” Over the last decade, New Zealand has become well aware of the “wonderful and horrible” nature of tourism. Before Covid, tourism was the country’s largest export, accounting for 20% of the export market and approaching 10% of GDP. The return of visitors will be a crucial opportunity for cafes, restaurants and tourist destinations that have spent two years struggling to survive. But tourism has also caused tensions – locals have complained of overcrowding, waste, lack of investment in human hospitality infrastructure and fears that fragile natural environments are being permanently destroyed. The age of Instagram and influencers can overwhelm this dynamic. The sites moved with great speed from the “unexplored jewel” to an endlessly reproducing setting, overwhelmed – and often threatened – by eager visitors. “We want people to come to these incredible places. We want people to experience them. “But we also want to make sure we protect them,” Kiritapou said [Kiri] Allan, Minister for Conservation and Deputy Minister for Culture and Heritage. “And that we can pass it on to future generations in a state that has not been completely destroyed by the human footprint.” Milford Sound / Piopiotahi is the most famous attraction in the country, but it went on for years without regulation and overcrowded. Photo: Tess McClure / The Guardian Now the government wants to reshape the way the country does tourism as a whole. Last July, Tourism Minister Stuart Nash promised that the days of unlimited tour buses would never return to Piopiotachi. Beyond that, the site would be a “test case” for the rest of the country, he said, as it seeks to turn the tourism sector into a more sustainable, controlled operation, funding infrastructure in its host communities. In Milford, the suggestions are important: check in, limit numbers, charge a standard infrastructure fee for a visit. Alan said tensions are high in Milford, but it is a national enigma. “I see similar executives all over the country.” In Te Anau, the nearest town to Milford, the absence of visitors during the pandemic has led many businesses to the brink of collapse. About 85% of Piopiotahi’s visitors are from abroad, said Paul Norris, head of maintenance at RealNZ, which runs the ferry by sound. Their loss was a huge financial shock. “It was a way of survival,” he said. “You can imagine, in the last two years, there are too many people who have left the tourism industry.” “I do not think he should return as he was. “But like everything – behind four or five words, there are a multitude of layers of things happening.” Many of the discussions are dominated by the peak period, which is actually only a few weeks of the year, he added – in the winter months, things are more manageable. Muriel Johnstone, an elder of Ōraka Aparima Rūnaka, said the fjords are a “cradle of mythology” for the tribe – and their significance to the Maori has not been reflected in how it works. “For many years, mother kurua [those with traditional authority over the land] “and others are worried about the intensification of tourism,” he said. “The huge uncontrolled growth… has reduced the sense of awe and welcome that welcomed visitors.” The Mackinnon Monument at Mackinnon Pass – rumored to be “the best ride in the world”. Photo: Murdo MacLeod / The Guardian Mana Whenua must be placed at the heart of Piopiotahi’s new vision, he said – and they are Mοori leaders like manaakitanga [hospitality]and guardianship, [stewardship of the natural world] that can lead it forward. Outside the fjord basin, the ship makes a slow turn, returning to port. The water spreads in front of him, unbreakable. “This is about as good as it gets,” said a man standing on the railing. In the echo, dolphins flutter in the water. As the boat approaches a huge waterfall, a boy stands on the bow, feeling the spray on his face. His father is standing behind him and taking a picture. There is little competition for the perfect shot.
