The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
Why we must salute Benidorm’s culture
Benidorm as a Unesco world heritage site? The proposition by mayor Augustín Navarro and the Benidorm town council has caused scorn and controversy. It is, in truth, a no-brainer.
Of course the resort should become a world heritage site, and sooner rather than later. There are two reasons for this. Firstly, Benidorm is a fine and significant place. In few other seaside spots have so many people had such a good time over so many years. It is difficult to think of a single other town where one may move from the beach to tapas and then meat pies, on to a flamenco festival via wine and a couple of pints of bitter, before finishing, around 2am, with brandies, crazy golf and twinkling views to the Mediterranean.
Secondly, the World Heritage Site (WHS) system, creaking as it is with worthiness, isn’t all that special. We’ll take the two points in reverse order. It was in 1972 that Unesco came up with the heritage system. The body spent the next 20 years rewarding western – and mainly European – culture for its wonderfulness. The definition of “heritage” was limited to medieval castles, Roman remains and similar items of which Europe had an abundance and the rest of the world rather less so. In 1994 the rules changed. The definition was broadened to embrace sites demonstrating human coexistence with the land, sites associated with living traditions and such like.
If that sounds as though one could jam pretty much anything into the WHS category, well, the suspicion does linger. Which patch of earth – bar remoter bits of deserts, jungles and mountains – does not bear the stamp of some sort of culture? Granted, Unesco is after “outstanding” or “exceptional” examples, but the results seem hit and miss. Why, in the UK, is Durham cathedral favoured and not York Minster? Or St Paul’s? We have Blenheim Palace on the list, but not Windsor Castle, the Cornwall and west Devon mining landscape, but not the Rhondda. In France, there are more anomalies yet: Chartres cathedral but not Amiens, the Roman theatre at Orange but not the arena in Nïmes; Le Havre but not Sarlat.
Conceivably, the places on the list aren’t more “exceptional” than other first-rate sites; they’re just backed by more determined supporters. Thus might we explain why the Cévennes hills and Causses plateaux of southern France were recently recognised for their historic “agro-pastoralism” (i.e. mountain farming) while swathes of the Alps and Pyrenees – with exactly the same traditions – remain ignored.
The other objection is that, however the things are chosen, they are the sorts of places you would go to anyway. Do you really need WHS labels in order to contemplate a visit to Stonehenge or Bath, Versailles or the Mont St Michel? What is gained by giving the Palace of Westminster, the Alhambra or the Canal-du-Midi heritage status? We already know they’re pretty special. OK, people in more distant lands may be influenced. There is sound evidence that, for instance, Bordeaux has seen an increase in tourists since bagging its WHS badge in 2007. It’s difficult to know what part WHS billing played in the increase, though it would be churlish to deny it entirely.
Most dramatic, incidentally, has been the rise in passengers on Bordeaux’s little tourist train – from 26,000 to 44,000 a year. The Daily Telegraph may be the first international medium to reveal these figures. They indicate that WHS status has indeed a role to play, but perhaps only on a par with that of a posh but incomplete guidebook.
Meanwhile, Unesco’s inclusion of a wider range of heritage possibilities has allowed it, in 2012, to embrace the mining basin of northern France. This is obviously right. If the mining landscape, villages, traditions and 450ft slag heaps aren’t as culturally significant as a Roman aqueduct, then we are tackling the world bottom-end on. There is, then, no earthly reason why most other mining landscapes should not become heritage sites.
And not just mining basins. Why not a mill in east Lancashire or a football stadium (Old Trafford?) or – talking generically, as Unesco sometimes does – northern working men’s clubs or public schools or Henley Regatta (“high-water mark of southern middle-class culture”) or motorways (“historical human transport development”)?
Or – yes, yes – Benidorm? Since 1956 when the then mayor, with extraordinary foresight, drew up a General Plan for tourist development, Benidorm has been miles ahead in introducing the world in general, Spain itself, and then Britain, to hot-sun seaside holidays. (The place still has more Spanish than foreign visitors).
Over the years, the Poniente and Levante beaches have afforded a first taste of the Med for millions – 250million in the last halfcentury. Clearly, the place is vitally important in a great many lives. On what definition of “heritage” could we possibly keep it out?
Then there is the forest of seaside skyscrapers – which startle as you arrive over the abrupt and rather savage hills. The high-rises are, though, a terrific idea. Developed from the Sixties – when Benidorm could no longer expand outwards, so had to go up – they are (like most of the 150 hotels) mainly owned by local families and interests. The buildings must take up no more than 30 per cent of any given plot, so there’s plenty of space and light.
Most importantly, however, they provide more accommodation with more sea views than bijou little properties ever could. And at affordable prices. So the crowds fly in, catered for brilliantly by clean beaches, great promenades, six theme parks, a range of activities I find too tiring to list and nightlife by the ton. (Granted, there are a couple of entertainers they’ll maybe have to hide when the Unesco inspectors call). Done well, mass tourism, by definition, pleases masses of people. That’s Benidorm’s achievement. Mayor Navarro wants this to be recognised as of cultural value. If he thinks WHS will do that, then no one should stop him.
People will sneer. They were sneering already last week, when Benidorm’s WHS bid was mooted. “Awful place full of Brits. No heritage or culture,” gabbled a commenter on one newspaper website. But it has long been the British way to scorn other Britons, notably those enjoying popular pastimes. Together with its WHS list, Unesco also lists “intangible cultural heritages”. French gastronomy and the weaving of Alençon lace are thus highlighted. I think we might campaign to have the “cultured British sneer” inscribed alongside them. It is as valuable a part of our cultured heritage as quinoa, Pinter and renting a gïte in Tuscany. Not that they’ll give a tuppenny damn in Benidorm, of course.
For more of Le Rosbif’s inimitable insights into the highs and lows of Gallic life, go to telegraph.co.uk/ journalists/anthony-peregrine