I once made the colossal blunder of inviting a friend to a lepidopterarium, thinking she would appreciate the gathering of wonderful insects. She, on the other hand, was no fan of any creature, big or small, and mistakenly anticipated that the butterflies would be safely contained behind sprawling screens, away from human interaction.
However, the essence of a butterfly farm is for humans to harmoniously interact with these sublime, foreign species. As we stepped into the butterfly edifice, an enchanted landscape sprawled before us. Magnificently hued butterflies fluttered around the tropical flora and the ponds, pausing occasionally to peck at the fruit pieces scattered around the greenhouse.
The peace was shattered when a butterfly brushed past my friend, causing chaos. She shrieked in alarm, began swatting at the butterflies, and sent her toddler into a fit of frightened tears. My own child also started crying in empathy, and both hastily bolted from the area. The day trip didn’t turn out to be the delightful experience I had envisioned.
Soon after this incident, the butterfly farm shut down, although I’m sure the two occurrences, thankfully, were unrelated. This memory resurfaced when I came across an online review of a butterfly house, where the disgruntled visitor described it as a “terrible location for those who despise butterfly crowds” and added, in a concerning note, that the displayed fruit was exclusively for butterfly consumption.
Guaranteed, platforms like TripAdvisor and other online review portals attract tourists who are quite challenging to satisfy. These are the individuals who outrageously request the noise level of the waterfall near their hotel to be reduced because it disturbs their sleep. They’re the kind of travellers who would demand the abolition of siestas as it meddles with their holiday timeline.
One of the reviews about the Grand Canyon on TripAdvisor portrayed it as “an exaggerated sandy pit”, while another discontented visitor referred to it as a “disappointing encounter … unattractive rocks and a trench spanning miles. Underwhelming is an understatement.”
Ben Nevis was dismissed by Tony C as “excessively sharp”, which makes you speculate what he had anticipated when he decided to ascend the tallest mountain in the UK. Tris G, on the other hand, was upset about the absence of wifi. She scornfully stated, “Unable to connect to TikTok or Instagram. We are in the 21st century and they haven’t even put up a phone mast at the peak.”
Henry, a Swedish visitor, expressed his dissatisfaction about the absence of refreshments at a certain peak. He recounted his girlfriend’s arduous climb, hampered by altitude sickness and acrophobia, saying that they were misled with promises of a pub and fish and chips awaiting them atop. False alarm, indeed.
Tourist sites in Ireland have also faced the brunt of critical visitors. A German tourist named Beatriz voiced her disapproval of Phoenix Park, criticising its lack of diversity and the overabundance of grass.
Winning numerous tourism awards didn’t spare Spike Island from the irate comments of a British tourist who got soaked in the rain, labelling it the most terrible experience of their life. An incredulous Londoner also expressed his disappointment comparing it to grander architectural wonders such as Machu Picchu in Peru and the Great Wall of China.
Croagh Patrick received its share of criticism too. Dublin’s Seán C argued against the rigorous trek, claiming that it wasn’t worth the effort, and tales of his grandmother’s barefoot climb wasn’t enough to convince him.
Reflecting upon these reviews, one can’t help but imagine what French philosopher, Jean-Paul Sartre, would have said, reminding us of his proclamation that hell is indeed other people. Although there is no proof that Sartre engaged in any sightseeing in Ireland during his unpleasant time working with film director John Huston in Galway in 1959, one can speculate whether the tourism sector further influenced this outlook.
Regrettably for the Irish tourism industry, he seemed equally unenthused about Galway. In a letter penned to his significant other, Simone de Beauvoir, he painted an unsavoury picture of his surroundings in Craughwell, branding it as “deserted” and a “forsaken moor”. The Saw Doctors would definitely bristle at his derogatory description of Galway’s “persistent, dull, futile little walls” and its lifeless landscape. “Only the existence of grass affirms that a nuclear bomb hasn’t fallen here,” he commented. “Not misery, merely poverty and above all, death”, was his bleak observation. Luckily fori Tourism Ireland, there was no platform like TripAdvisor back in 1959.