How US, Mexico, Canada, Peru, Brazil are Learning from Spain, Croatia, Italy, Portugal, Japan, Indonesia to Erase Overtourism, Here is a New Insight for You

How US, Mexico, Canada, Peru, Brazil are Learning from Spain, Croatia, Italy, Portugal, Japan, Indonesia to Erase Overtourism, Here is a New Insight for You
How US, Mexico, Canada, Peru, Brazil are Learning from Spain, Croatia, Italy, Portugal, Japan, Indonesia to Erase Overtourism, Here is a New Insight for You

Overtourism once sounded like a problem confined to Europe’s cobblestoned streets or Asia’s sacred temples. Names like Venice, Dubrovnik, and Bali have long dominated headlines as places drowning under the weight of their own popularity. But the phenomenon has quietly spread, and today it’s shaking the very foundations of travel across the Americas.

From the craggy heights of Machu Picchu to the sunny shores of Cancun, destinations across the Western Hemisphere are grappling with a hard truth: too much of a good thing can become destructive. In the United States, beloved national parks strain under record crowds, sparking debates over permits and timed entries. Canada’s pristine islands and mountain parks face similar pressures, as small communities wrestle with waves of seasonal visitors. Meanwhile, Mexico’s reefs and beaches buckle under relentless foot traffic, while Brazil and Peru teeter on the brink of their own overtourism crises.

Yet amid these challenges, a quiet revolution is taking place. Countries across the Americas aren’t just wringing their hands. They’re watching, learning, and borrowing ideas from overseas. They’re studying how Spain has cracked down on disruptive tourist behavior in cities like Barcelona and Málaga. They’re examining how Italy imposes entry fees for Venice or how Portugal diversifies its tourism away from overrun coastal zones. Even far-flung examples from Japan’s Mt. Fuji visitor caps or Indonesia’s island preservation fees are finding their way into American and Latin American conversations about sustainable travel.

This is more than a policy trend—it’s a cultural reckoning. Leaders, business owners, and everyday citizens are asking a pivotal question: how do we preserve what makes our destinations special without shutting the door on the very visitors who fuel local economies?

The answers are complex, and the stakes are high. But across the Americas, new strategies are emerging that could reshape not only how people travel, but how entire nations define success in tourism.

This isn’t just a story about too many tourists. It’s a story about how places—and people—are fighting to save the soul of travel itself.

How Countries Are Fighting Back to Save Their Destinations

From Machu Picchu’s mystical ruins to the neon glow of Times Square, the Americas draw millions of travelers each year. But there’s a growing shadow over the tourism boom: overtourism. Once a problem confined to Venice or Bali, it’s now hitting home in North and South America, transforming beautiful landscapes into battlegrounds between visitors and locals.

This is the new reality: beaches are packed, parks are overwhelmed, and rents are skyrocketing. Across the Americas, countries are fighting to protect communities, natural resources, and cultural heritage from being crushed under their own popularity. Here’s how each is dealing with the pressure—and what it means for the future of travel.

United States: National Parks Under Siege

America’s tourism dilemma is nowhere clearer than in its beloved national parks. Yellowstone, Yosemite, Zion, and the Grand Canyon are experiencing record-breaking crowds. Parking lots fill up by sunrise. Trails suffer erosion from millions of footsteps. Emergency services strain to keep up with search-and-rescue calls.

Overtourism here isn’t driven by international travelers alone. Domestic tourism surged during the pandemic, as Americans swapped international trips for nature escapes. But the infrastructure in many parks remains designed for mid-20th-century visitor numbers—not 21st-century crowds.

To manage the crush, U.S. park agencies have launched new tools:

  • Timed-entry permits: Visitors must reserve specific time slots to enter places like Arches National Park in Utah, spreading crowds through the day.
  • Shuttle-only systems: In Zion National Park, private vehicles are banned from popular canyons, with visitors riding buses instead.
  • Education campaigns: Rangers and social media teams urge travelers to visit during shoulder seasons and less popular weekdays.

Despite these efforts, backlash is brewing. Some travelers resent having to plan far in advance. Locals worry about tourism choking gateway communities with traffic and rising housing prices. The U.S. faces an ongoing puzzle: how to let millions experience nature without destroying it in the process.

Canada: Island Havens at Risk

Canada may seem spacious and empty on the map, but certain regions face severe overtourism. Prince Edward Island (PEI) is one example. Its gentle coastlines and Anne of Green Gables charm lure millions each summer, leading to traffic jams on rural roads, overwhelmed restaurants, and rental shortages.

In the Rockies, Banff and Jasper National Parks are packed with visitors vying for views of turquoise lakes. Locals fear that the region’s fragile ecosystems—and their quality of life—can’t handle the influx.

Recent surveys show Canadians are highly aware of overtourism. Over 70% report avoiding certain destinations because they’re too crowded or expensive during peak periods. To ease the strain, Canada’s tourism boards are shifting focus:

  • Promoting off-season visits with lower prices and special events.
  • Encouraging travel to lesser-known spots like the Gaspé Peninsula or Northern territories.
  • Limiting short-term rentals in some communities to protect housing stock for locals.

PEI’s own government has considered seasonal visitor caps, while federal agencies study carrying-capacity models similar to U.S. parks. Still, balancing tourism’s economic benefits with community wellbeing remains a delicate act.

Mexico: Paradise Under Pressure

Few places embody tourism’s blessings and curses as vividly as Mexico’s coastlines. From Cancún’s all-inclusive resorts to Tulum’s Instagram-friendly beaches, visitors have poured into the country in record numbers.

Yet the numbers come with costs:

  • Coral reefs off the Riviera Maya suffer damage from sunscreen chemicals and careless snorkeling.
  • Tulum has seen beach erosion worsen, fueled partly by development and tourist foot traffic.
  • Local services, including water and waste systems, buckle under seasonal booms.

Many Mexican officials now recognize overtourism as a looming crisis. The government and private sector are responding:

  • Establishing marine protected areas to limit boat traffic and tourist access near vulnerable reefs.
  • Discussing daily visitor limits for certain beaches, though enforcement remains spotty.
  • Exploring restrictions on cruise ship arrivals in sensitive ports like Cozumel.

Yet it’s complicated. Tourism is a massive economic driver for Mexico, employing millions and contributing a significant share of GDP. Efforts to cap tourist numbers can collide with financial realities. Meanwhile, American and Canadian travelers continue to flock south, drawn by sun, affordability, and easy flights.

Peru: Machu Picchu’s Tightrope Walk

Peru faces a unique overtourism challenge: one of the world’s most iconic heritage sites. Machu Picchu, nestled in the Andes, is both a national treasure and a global magnet for tourists. Its stone terraces and temples attract millions, placing severe strain on delicate archaeological structures and the surrounding cloud forest.

Before the pandemic, daily visitors often exceeded sustainable limits. Crowds damaged stone steps, trampled vegetation, and disrupted local communities.

In response, Peru enacted strict regulations:

  • Daily visitor limits, currently capped around 5,000 people.
  • Mandatory guides for foreign visitors, ensuring better crowd control and protection of ruins.
  • Calls from UNESCO to reduce visitors further to around 2,500 daily for long-term preservation.

Machu Picchu is a test case for how to preserve a priceless site without sacrificing tourism income. The Peruvian government earns significant revenue from entry fees, and countless local jobs depend on travelers. It’s a balancing act that has implications worldwide for managing heritage tourism.

Brazil: Watching and Learning

While Brazil has avoided overtourism on the same explosive scale as Mexico or Peru, certain sites are flashing warning signs. Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janeiro sees massive crowds, especially during Carnival or major sporting events. Iguazu Falls straddles the border with Argentina and draws tourists year-round, raising concerns about environmental degradation.

Brazil is proactive:

  • Authorities monitor crowd sizes at major attractions and consider timed-ticketing during peak seasons.
  • Discussions have emerged around sustainable tourism frameworks modeled on practices in Peru and the U.S.
  • Conservation groups push for visitor education about respecting natural habitats, especially in the Amazon basin.

So far, Brazil’s vast size helps disperse tourists. But with increased interest in South America post-pandemic, there’s rising concern that Brazil could soon face its own overtourism crunch if trends continue unchecked.

Caribbean: Islands Seek Balance

The Caribbean is a region caught between tourism’s golden goose and overtourism’s perils. Islands like the Bahamas, Barbados, Jamaica, and the Dominican Republic rely heavily on tourism dollars. Yet overcrowded beaches, coral reef destruction, and rising rents threaten local communities and ecosystems.

A major challenge comes from cruise tourism. Ships can disgorge thousands of passengers into small island towns, overwhelming shops, streets, and services. Locals complain that while cruise tourists spend less per person, they consume huge resources.

Governments across the region are exploring solutions:

  • Developing sustainable tourism plans emphasizing smaller groups and eco-friendly activities.
  • Considering limits on cruise ship dockings per week.
  • Promoting community-based tourism that benefits local residents directly.

Some islands are also shifting marketing away from pure sun-and-sand toward cultural experiences, aiming to attract visitors willing to spend more and stay longer. Still, the Caribbean’s economy is tightly bound to tourism, making sudden restrictions politically and economically risky.

Lessons from the World

While this article focuses on the Americas, it’s crucial to view overtourism as a global challenge. Other nations provide blueprints:

  • Bhutan’s $200–250 daily visitor tax preserves culture and limits mass tourism.
  • Venice has begun charging €5 to day-trippers to manage crowding.
  • Japan recently imposed caps on hikers at Mt. Fuji and even restricted photo zones to reduce disruptions in Kyoto.

These examples show that bold measures are possible—but require political will and community buy-in.

The Economic Tightrope

Every country in the Americas faces the same dilemma: tourism brings prosperity but threatens the very destinations it celebrates. For example:

  • In Mexico, tourism accounts for ~8.5% of GDP.
  • Peru relies on Machu Picchu for jobs in Cusco and beyond.
  • Caribbean islands see tourism provide 20-80% of local GDP, depending on the country.

This reliance makes overtourism a deeply economic issue—not just environmental or cultural. Reducing tourist numbers without replacing lost revenue can devastate communities.

Technology and Data: A Modern Solution?

One of the most promising tools is data. Real-time visitor counts, reservation systems, and digital crowd management help distribute tourists more evenly. Apps can steer visitors to lesser-known sites, while big data analyses forecast peak demand periods.

In the U.S., park managers use digital dashboards to decide when to implement shuttle-only policies or restrict trail access. In Canada, analytics help identify which regions could handle more visitors without damage.

Still, technology is only part of the puzzle. It must be combined with regulation, local consultation, and traveler education.

The sunshine and sangria may still be calling, but this summer, Málaga wants tourists to behave—or face the consequences.

In a season where beaches are packed and airports struggle under record passenger loads, Spain’s southern gem is laying down firm rules for anyone hoping to soak up its Andalusian charm.

Forget carefree holidays of pub crawls, loud parties, and baring it all in the streets. In Málaga, there’s a new code of conduct, and it’s non-negotiable.

The New Rules That Could Shock Summer Tourists

This year, the city of Málaga unveiled a fresh set of ten golden rules plastered on buses, billboards, and every social feed tourists scroll.

They’re crystal clear:

  • Dress completely when away from the beach.
  • Keep noise levels low, especially after dark.
  • Avoid shouting or blasting music in neighborhoods.
  • Use proper trash bins and public toilets.
  • Stay off pedestrian zones with scooters and bikes.

And that’s just the start.

These rules might sound polite, but they carry real financial muscle. Fines for breaking them can hit €750, a steep price for ignoring local etiquette.

Tourists strolling shirtless through the historic center, or blasting music outside apartments where locals try to sleep, could suddenly find their dream vacation becoming very expensive.

Spain’s Tourism Crossroads: A Tipping Point for the Industry

Málaga’s campaign—called “Improve Your Stay”—isn’t just a PR stunt. It’s a battle cry echoing across all of Spain.

Locals feel pushed to the edge by record-breaking visitor numbers. Housing prices have soared. Once-peaceful streets now echo with the shouts of late-night revelers. The city’s culture and daily life feel under siege.

Nowhere is this tension clearer than in Málaga, where anger has turned into action.

Last year, protestors flooded the city, slapping angry anti-tourism slogans onto buildings and lampposts. Stickers read “This used to be my home.” Others were far less polite.

Málaga isn’t alone. Barcelona, San Sebastián, Palma de Mallorca, Tenerife, and Seville have seen similar demonstrations. The message rings out from every region: “Enough is enough.”

Spain’s tourism sector, worth more than €180 billion annually, is facing an identity crisis.

How does a nation reliant on tourism for jobs and economic growth balance that need with the fury simmering among its citizens?

A Growing Anti-Tourism Wave Across Europe

It’s not just a Málaga story. Europe’s most popular destinations are shaking under the weight of overtourism.

Venice has imposed entrance fees. Amsterdam is rolling out strict rules for rowdy travelers. The Balearic Islands have tightened alcohol laws.

Spain’s Supreme Court recently ordered the removal of nearly 66,000 illegal short-term rentals across Catalonia. Meanwhile, Barcelona has pledged to eliminate all tourist apartments by 2028.

These moves aren’t cosmetic. They’re survival tactics.

Locals want livable cities. Affordable housing. Clean streets. Peace at night.

Travelers, on the other hand, crave freedom, adventure, and Instagram-perfect memories.

These two worlds are colliding—and Málaga’s new rules are proof.

Málaga’s Economic Gamble: Will Tourists Stay or Go?

On the surface, tourists might bristle at being told how to dress, talk, or move around.

Yet Spain is betting that quality visitors will embrace these rules. The hope is to discourage party-centric tourism while attracting respectful travelers who spend generously without disrupting daily life.

Málaga’s beaches, world-class gastronomy, and vibrant art scene still draw millions. But tourism officials know that unchecked crowds could destroy the very charm that makes the city irresistible.

They’re threading a needle: keep tourism booming—but on local terms.

This strategy is backed by solid economics. Tourists who visit for cultural experiences, fine dining, and authentic local engagement often spend far more than budget party tourists.

Málaga wants travelers who care about Andalusian heritage—not just cheap drinks.

Spain’s Summer Surge: Crowds, Costs, and Chaos

Summer 2025 is shaping up to be another blockbuster for Spain’s travel industry.

Airlines have boosted capacity to Spanish destinations, with Málaga Airport reporting double-digit passenger increases compared to pre-pandemic levels.

Hotels are charging record rates. Short-term rentals remain in high demand despite new legal threats. Tour operators report surging bookings, especially from British, German, and Scandinavian markets.

Yet these booming numbers come with a dark side.

Overcrowded streets. Long airport queues. Soaring prices for basic services.

Travelers arriving in Málaga might find themselves squeezed shoulder-to-shoulder on popular promenades, only to discover that they’re breaking one of the new rules without even realizing it.

The Emotional Toll on Locals—and Visitors

Underneath the economic debate lies a more human story.

Locals feel displaced in their own neighborhoods. Their rent has skyrocketed. Beloved shops have vanished, replaced by tourist bars and souvenir stores.

Children can’t sleep at night due to street noise. Elderly residents feel unwelcome in public spaces overtaken by selfie sticks and rolling suitcases.

Meanwhile, tourists eager for a carefree vacation now face strict behavioral codes, hefty fines, and a sense they’re unwelcome.

It’s creating an atmosphere of mutual resentment that could shape the future of European tourism.

Travel Industry Response: Shifting Strategies to Save Tourism

Spain’s tourism boards are scrambling to find a new balance.

Efforts include:

  • Promoting off-season travel to ease summer congestion.
  • Encouraging visitors to explore lesser-known inland regions.
  • Pushing “slow travel” experiences that focus on sustainability and deeper cultural immersion.
  • Raising awareness of local rules through multilingual campaigns.

Hotels are rethinking strategies too. Many high-end brands in Málaga are pivoting toward “wellness tourism,” quiet retreats, and luxury experiences that attract big-spending but lower-impact travelers.

Airlines are partnering with local authorities to distribute informational materials on new rules and respectful conduct before passengers even land.

Will Málaga’s Crackdown Work—or Drive Tourists Away?

The question looms large: Will these rules save Málaga’s soul—or scare off its lifeblood?

Early signals suggest visitors are adapting. Many appreciate a cleaner, quieter city. Some travelers are drawn precisely because Málaga is fighting overtourism, seeing it as a sign of authenticity and care.

Yet the tourism industry walks a tightrope. Push too hard, and visitors might flee to destinations perceived as more carefree.

There’s another danger: the spread of anti-tourist sentiment across social media. Viral videos of tourists being fined or scolded could damage Spain’s brand if handled poorly.

A Summer That Could Shape European Travel’s Future

Málaga’s new rules may feel like a local matter—but they’re a signpost for all of Europe.

Travelers increasingly must navigate a maze of local ordinances, hidden fines, and cultural sensitivities. Gone are the days of one-size-fits-all European holidays.

For the travel industry, this summer is a crucible.

If Málaga manages to protect its community while welcoming respectful tourists, it could offer a blueprint for sustainable tourism across Europe.

But if tensions explode into anger and cancellations, Spain risks an economic blow just as the global travel rebound hits full speed.

One Thing Is Clear: Travel Has Changed

This summer, tourists heading for Málaga—and indeed all of Spain—must bring more than sunglasses and sunscreen.

They’ll need respect. Awareness. And perhaps a quiet voice.

Because in Spain’s hottest cities, the rules of tourism have been rewritten—and there’s no going back.

Overtourism Surges While Locals Retreat

Spain’s beaches were once the playgrounds of both Spaniards and visitors from around the world. But this balance has shattered in recent years.

Local tourism has shrunk by a staggering 800,000 people. Meanwhile, foreign tourism is booming, surging by nearly two million additional visitors. That’s a sharp contrast, painting a picture of a country whose own citizens are increasingly edged out of their favorite summer escapes.

For many Spaniards, seaside holidays are no longer a given. They’ve become a privilege fewer can afford.

In places like Alicante, families who once gathered every summer now face packed beaches, skyrocketing prices, and accommodations booked solid months in advance.

And as foreign visitors pour into beach towns, locals are quietly slipping away, unable—or unwilling—to pay the new price of paradise.

Rent Prices Skyrocket Beyond Local Reach

Behind the smiling travel brochures lies a harsh economic reality.

According to price monitoring firm Tecnitasa, beachfront rental prices have leapt by over 20% since the middle of 2023. By the first quarter of this year, most prime summer accommodations were already snapped up.

For many Spaniards, this makes traditional seaside holidays financially impossible.

The math tells the story. In 2023, an average beachfront rental might have cost €1,200 per week. A 20% hike pushes that to over €1,440—a painful jump for local families whose wages haven’t kept pace.

Meanwhile, foreign tourists often come from countries with stronger currencies or higher purchasing power. For them, those same prices might feel steep but not unattainable.

This economic gap is creating a de facto displacement effect. Spaniards are getting priced out of their own coastline while visitors take over.

A Shift in Holiday Culture for Spaniards

The cultural impact runs deep.

For generations, summer meant loading the car with towels, umbrellas, and coolers, then heading off to the Mediterranean coast. It was a ritual, a rite of passage, and a powerful part of Spanish identity.

But now, locals describe the coastline as unrecognizable. Crowds swell whenever cruise ships dock, sometimes doubling the population of coastal towns in a single day.

Even the cherished family homes in places like Cádiz or the Costa Brava have become sources of tension. Families once shared summer houses among cousins, aunts, and grandparents. Now, some relatives rent them out to tourists for far higher returns.

Spaniards who used to visit every summer suddenly find themselves competing with travelers from Germany, Britain, Scandinavia, and beyond.

“It’s overwhelming,” said one local resident of Cádiz, who used to enjoy tranquil holidays at her family’s home but now faces streets overrun with tourists.

Local Protests Turn Creative—and Confrontational

It’s not just quiet resentment simmering under the surface.

Last month, Barcelona and Mallorca became stages for public protest. Crowds gathered, armed not with placards alone but with water guns. Their target? Tourists.

The message was half symbolic, half literal: cool down the flood of tourism before it drowns local life entirely.

Spraying tourists with water guns might sound playful, but it underlines a serious frustration. Residents see tourists as partly responsible for rising rents, overcrowded public spaces, and the erosion of authentic local culture.

Such protests are increasingly common across Spain, from the Balearic Islands to the streets of Barcelona, where anti-tourism graffiti often appears overnight.

These tensions are no longer niche issues—they’re a growing political and social movement that could transform Spain’s tourism industry.

Foreign Visitors Outnumber Locals in Cities, Too

It’s not only the beaches feeling the pinch. Spanish cities have become magnets for global travelers, further fueling the overtourism dilemma.

Last year, locals made about 400,000 fewer trips to major Spanish cities. Meanwhile, foreign tourists increased their city visits by nearly 3 million.

It’s an astonishing reversal that hints at profound cultural shifts. The streets of Barcelona, Madrid, and Seville are increasingly filled with visitors speaking English, German, or French rather than Spanish.

This influx creates new strains on infrastructure and public services, from garbage collection to transportation. Local officials now face impossible decisions: welcome vital tourism revenue or protect the fabric of daily city life.

Short-Term Rentals Add Fuel to the Fire

One of the biggest flashpoints is the rise of short-term rentals.

Barcelona has been grappling with this for over a decade. As of this year, the number of legal tourist apartments has remained around 10,000 since 2014. But many more exist under the radar.

City officials plan to ban all short-term tourist apartment rentals entirely by 2028. Their aim? Return thousands of apartments to the long-term rental market and lower housing costs for locals.

It’s a radical move that could redefine urban tourism—not just in Barcelona but across Europe.

Yet there’s a risk: without careful management, wiping out short-term rentals might reduce accommodation options, potentially driving prices even higher for the remaining hotels.

A Deepening Divide Between Locals and Tourists

Economists warn that the economic gap between foreign tourists and Spanish residents will continue to widen if trends persist.

Spaniards’ disposable income has stagnated compared to other European nations, making even domestic holidays a luxury. Meanwhile, travelers from wealthier countries see Spain as a bargain, especially when their own currencies perform strongly against the euro.

This financial imbalance turns visitors into unintentional competitors, outbidding locals for restaurants, rentals, and beach chairs.

The emotional impact is profound. Many Spaniards now feel like strangers in their own cities and coastal towns during peak season. Familiar streets are crowded with unfamiliar faces. Traditional markets shift their offerings toward tourist souvenirs rather than local needs.

It’s creating a sense of loss—of place, identity, and community.

Spain’s Economic Reliance on Tourism: A Double-Edged Sword

The irony is that Spain desperately needs tourism.

The industry accounts for over 12% of the nation’s GDP, sustaining millions of jobs. In 2024 alone, Spain welcomed 94 million international travelers—a record that underscores its global allure.

Yet the same tourists who drive this economic engine are also driving local frustration.

It’s a delicate balance: alienating tourists could harm the economy, but failing to protect locals could spark deeper social upheaval.

Governments at local, regional, and national levels are scrambling to find solutions. But there’s no easy fix.

Possible Solutions and Industry Shifts

Spain’s tourism industry is pivoting in several ways to address these challenges:

  • Promoting Off-Season Travel: Authorities are encouraging tourists to visit outside peak summer months to spread demand more evenly.
  • Highlighting Lesser-Known Destinations: Rural tourism campaigns aim to lure visitors inland, easing pressure on beaches and cities.
  • Implementing Visitor Caps: Some regions are considering limits on daily tourist numbers, especially in fragile coastal areas.
  • Encouraging Sustainable Tourism: “Slow travel” experiences emphasize deeper cultural connections rather than high-volume, high-speed tourism.

Hotels are adjusting their marketing to attract higher-value guests who spend more but impact local communities less. Airlines, too, are collaborating with tourism boards to educate travelers about respecting local customs and regulations.

Will Tourists Accept the New Reality?

One of the looming questions is how tourists will respond to a more regulated, possibly more expensive travel experience in Spain.

Some travelers are receptive. They value authentic experiences and support sustainable tourism. They’re willing to pay more for meaningful engagement and quieter surroundings.

Others seek low-cost, high-energy vacations. For these travelers, new rules and rising costs might push them to alternative destinations like Turkey, Greece, or North Africa.

This split will define the future shape of Europe’s tourism landscape.

Spain at a Crossroads: The Future of Its Beaches—and Its Identity

Spain now stands at a critical crossroads. The coming summers will test whether it can preserve both its cultural soul and its tourism-dependent economy.

Can Spaniards reclaim their beaches while still welcoming visitors from around the world? Or will overtourism force deeper societal changes that alter the nation’s identity?

The outcome will ripple far beyond the Iberian Peninsula. Other European destinations are watching closely. Italy, Greece, and Portugal face similar pressures. Spain’s choices could serve as either a model or a cautionary tale for the entire continent.

A Summer That Could Change Everything

As 2025’s high season rolls on, one thing is certain: the days of unlimited, unchecked tourism are ending.

Beaches are now battlegrounds. Rental prices have become weapons. Locals and visitors eye each other across the sands, both determined to hold their ground.

Spain’s sun still shines as brightly as ever. But in its golden light, shadows of a deeper struggle stretch long across the shore.

It’s not just a battle for beach chairs—it’s a battle for the very soul of summer itself.

The post How US, Mexico, Canada, Peru, Brazil are Learning from Spain, Croatia, Italy, Portugal, Japan, Indonesia to Erase Overtourism, Here is a New Insight for You appeared first on Travel And Tour World.