A captivating exploration of beach resort culture—from its roots in fashionable society to its undervalued role in today’s world economy—as the industry approaches a climate reckoning
With its promise of escape from the strains of everyday life, the beach has a hold on the popular imagination as the ultimate paradise. In The Last Resort, Sarah Stodola dives into the psyche of the beachgoer and gets to the heart of what drives humans to seek out the sand. At the same time, she grapples with the darker realities of resort culture: strangleholds on local economies, reckless construction, erosion of beaches, weighty carbon footprints, and the inevitable overdevelopment and decline that comes with a soaring demand for popular shorelines.
The Last Resort weaves Stodola’s firsthand travel notes with her exacting journalism in an enthralling report on the past, present, and future of coastal travel. She takes us from Monte Carlo, where the pursuit of pleasure first became part of the beach resort experience, to a village in Fiji that was changed irrevocably by the opening of a single resort; from the overdevelopment that stripped Acapulco of its reputation for exclusivity to Miami Beach, where extreme measures are underway to prevent the barrier island from vanishing into the ocean.
In the twenty-first century, beach travel has become central to our globalized world—its culture, economy, and interconnectedness. But with sea levels likely to rise at least 1.5 to 3 feet by the end of this century, beaches will become increasingly difficult to preserve, and many will disappear altogether. What will our last resort be when water begins to fill the lobbies?
I’m about to talk a ridiculous amount of shit, but I’ve got to admit I’m giving it two stars. Why? Some of the historical information and conversations with experts she shares are really cool. That’s where the praise ends.
This is another case of being able to tell a white woman from New York wrote the book before said white woman tells you she’s from New York (but she will tell you, it’s just like vegans and architects).
Stodola tries to pass herself off as some academic expert on the financial, cultural, economic and urban development impacts of beach resorts on localities, but she’s not. She’s just visited a bunch of resorts and bitched about them the whole time.
She condescends and infantilizes nonwhite locals and only fawns over resorts in rich, white areas (but makes sure to make fun of the rich white people so you don’t associate her with them). She has plenty of overly-specific anecdotes about how hard it is to exist without air conditioning but peppers in a bunch of phrases like “locals say” and “experts assert”, which is lazy journalism 101 for how to state your own opinion and have people not question it. She does have some intriguing conversations with actual experts but those are nowhere near frequent enough to cancel out her insufferable ramblings.
Don’t read this book if you have issues with that one person at every cocktail party that is an expert in talking about themselves. Stodola is one of those.
This is a travelogue of beach resorts written by someone who has gone for many years to many beach resorts and seems to hate them all. The overall negativity and lack of appreciation for the privilege she has in going to any of these places (even with all their actual and potential problems) was unexpected. Not what I was looking for.
Karen Debbie Downer travels thousands of miles to tell you how awful beach resorts are to local culture and our environment. Some of the history she shares is interesting and much of it is repetitive and tedious, all of it is judgmental.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I’m afraid I have to echo the many reviewers who felt that this was a case of great concept, poor execution. Or, perhaps the problems were the the blurred concept and tone as well. The book was uncertain as to what it aspired to be and thus unfortunately fell short across the board for me. Especially in the wake of the latest horrible hurricane that devastated Florida, there is both room and need for ample books that could fit this topic, so hopefully we get a few more that can focus on and aim for a more definite mission and vision, including but not limited to environmental and economic impacts on local residents - in their voices. Unfortunately, I came away from the book mostly wishing we could offset carbon or cool the globe a number of degrees for each time the author shares about how she sipped a warm overpriced beer and stared with judgmental scorn at the other resort patrons around her (doing exactly the same thing as she is) and their poor choices of clothing and food.
An outstandingly informative and fun look at the history of the beach resort.
Sarah Stodola, a career travel writer, takes a deep dive into the good, the bad, and the ugly of beach resorts around the world, ranging from the evolution of resorts through time to the cultural significance of this type of vacation destination.
If you travel, you’ll likely have been to some of the destinations discussed in the book, and you’ll learn about a few you haven’t visited as well. Stodola does a terrific job of taking a wide-angle look at the topic, studying everything from cheap spring break destinations to highly exclusive vacation spots.
Part history lesson and part cultural and environmental study, the book examines the impacts of resorts on the traveler, the native population of the destination, and the location itself. It’s a wonderfully done contextual history that treks across time and geography to examine why resorts came into being, what makes them appeal to the traveler at various points in time, and what their future might look like in the years to come.
*I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.*
Ever wanted to read a book on beach resorts written by a pretentious Brooklynite who hates the beach? Well this is the book for you!. Between complaining about every resort she visits down to the Tofu and Tomato salad in Fiji, to reminiscing about getting drunk with Germans in Thailand as her idea of Paradise, Ms Stodota quickly becomes "Beach Resort Karen" who never takes time to actually speak to those working in the resorts she demonizes. She sees any hotel near a beach as some evil that should never exist while fully admitting that everyone's idea of "paradise" will never live up to anyone's expectations. This is a travelogue/critique of not only the resort regions of the world but an indictment of everyone who would even think to make money near a beach or travel to a beach for a vacation. You will feel her wrath of even thinking that a beach resort could be an enjoyable time. Skip this unless you want to do some "hate reading" as a form a penance for the sin of wanting to visit a beach and relax. I think Ms Stodota should stick to her personal paradise that is Brooklyn and continue to quote Joan Didion and sneer at the rest of the sheep who wont sleep in a hut instead of a Hilton.
Engrossing and enlightening (if a bit uneven in direction in several of the chapters), yet the entire time all I could think about was Lauren Groff's review.
A mildly enjoyable travelogue of various prominent beach resorts around the world; in audiobook format it got me across the island and back. I would much rather listen this sort of more critical review than influencer sycophantry, though it seems to me like most high quality guides do this now anyways. Stodola's aspirations to be hard-hitting fall rather flat, though, when she so freely partakes in pretty well every practice she disparages. Her explicit suggestion that only the resorts that cater to high net worth individuals are worth emulating isn't sitting right with me either. She also has little real expertise, though she tries to act like she does. Still, I did enjoy the armchair travel reporting.
A 2-star book paired with 4-star subject matter. Skippable, but a reasonably pleasant driving companion.
I was originally enthralled, but this book was a tad too long. It got to the point where I was skimming and thinking "I get it - beach resorts are destroying the landscape. What else?"
This was a fascinating read. It is incredibly well researched and well written, and it presents the beach tourism conundrum for what it is: It’s complicated. There is no easy answer.
Having lived for over a decade in the Caribbean, then for years in Miami Beach, I’m all too familiar with the effects of global tourism on local communities’ culture + natural environment, the stronghold they have on their economies, and the conflicting feelings locals have towards the influx of tourists.
I appreciated her list of ideas of how to save the sinking ship at the end. They feel optimistic and practical. We shall see where the next couple of decades land us.
An excellent look at the history of humans and their relationship with the beach as a place of leisure. The author takes us on a historical worldwide tour of the up and coming and the hot beach spots of the past while weaving in history, ecology, tourism philosophies, and how much she (like all of us) enjoys a cocktail while taking in the sun, the waves, and a gentle sea breeze.
Recommended for all travel readers, all micro-history readers, and heck, why not read a book about the beach when you head to the beach!
I enjoyed learning more about various beach resorts around the world and the multiple struggles around the beach resort concept from the environmental degradation, the fight against disappearing beaches as well as the impact on the local communities who have lost their land, need to smile nicely for some not always so great tourists with the profits going to a few or directly out of the country. It was a bit gut wrenching to realize that long haul flights are worse than any stay at a resort since so many of those are required for my work. It also kind of made me want to visit a few of the locales described which probably isn't the point but maybe in an informed way if I'm already in the neighborhood?
The concept of the book is solid and gave me lots to think which I appreciated. However it often also felt like a fabulous excuse to just travel around to lots of great places and not quite as solid on the research. Good for her though.
an interesting look at beach resort culture and it’s transformation from exclusive luxury vacations to overdeveloped sprawl. appreciated the time that stodola took to speak about the environmental and cultural impacts that mass tourism have on the local population. the hopeful spin on ways the industry can perform better and ways they’re already working to alleviate negative impact was also refreshing. things can get better! recommend to any microhistory lovers.
What bunch of judgmental hogwash. I check this out because i wanted to understand the detrimental effects of imperialism on Caribbean islands. The author spends her time judging how people spend their vacations. Yes, I’m on my phone. I read books, news, check emails, etc. and I’m on my vacation for crying out loud.
I never realized how much went into the production and maintenance of a beach resort, or the challenges involved with keeping one running into the future. Maybe it’s because, for most of my life, I’ve been indifferent to the beach as a place of recreation.
As a work of journalism, this is a five-star book. It’s informative and thought-provoking. However, to me storytelling rules, and, though I can’t exactly put my finger on why, I didn’t find the storytelling here very enthralling. Hence the rating.
Still, this is definitely a worthwhile book and I feel much better informed for having read it.
Before I jump in & start complaining (there will be a lot of that!), first, I just want to say that I enjoyed Sarah Stodola's writing style: it was crisp, easy to read, & engaging -- perfect for a non-fiction book & exactly the style I want to read in this type of book. I did learn a bit about beach ecology & history (which is what I wanted, but didn't get enough of).
The tone, though, wow oh wow. The Last Resort practically drips with elitism, sanctimony, & bitterness. It's pretty clear Stodola doesn't love the beach & she obviously had made up her mind on that matter long before writing this book; I don't know if any amount of "research" (i.e., visiting oceanfront resorts all over the world (don't worry: she makes sure to let us know she purchased carbon offset credits, hahahahaha)) could have changed her opinion. Unfortunately, the tone of her book makes it unlikely that it will persuade a large audience to her side -- & some of her opinions are very valid but her overall condescension is just intensely off-putting. I truly don't think I've ever read such nasty non-fiction book on any topic.
One of the problems with this book is that, because Stodola seemingly went into this project with her opinions already strongly formed, there's no nuance, no growth, nothing to contradict or challenge any of her personal claims. Her premise seems to be that beach tourism is bad, generally, & this book, as a result, seems like a furious attempt to throw out every possible negative beach-related issue to enforce her own premise. Focusing more tightly on a few specific issues & providing more to back her claims would likely have been more effective. Again, I've never read a book like this before! There's so much bias here that after reading a few chapters, it's barely worth reading any others -- they all just dogmatically repeat the same points ad nauseam.
I was absolutely amazed by the fact that Stodola would talk with local residents & recount their conversations, then later go on & stubbornly offer her own conclusions, which quite often directly contradicted what she had just recounted being told. It was absolutely unreal! The author's smug high opinion of herself was constantly distracting & I found her dogmatic refusal to accept what locals told her during interviews or casual chats to be poor journalism at best & incredibly condescending toward the people she interviewed at worst.
Stodola is generally against beach tourism (as it is today) to many of the locales she profiles -- unless the tourists are wealthy enough & are engaging in "high end" tourism -- a stance I literally just cannot wrap my head around. It's OK for people like her to travel...just not anyone who, what? (She never really explains her criteria for who "deserves" beaches other than they must be at least moderately affluent.) She's against gentrification unless hipsters from Brooklyn are moving to Rockaway -- then it's "revitalization" (that sadly fell apart with Hurricane Sandy (of course, no mention of the plight of the folks who'd already been living there for decades -- her only concern seems to be about a taco truck??)). The hypocrisy throughout is absolutely astounding & mind blowing.
Overall, this was a very unpleasant, deeply cynical read. This is an interesting & in many ways an important topic that deserves to be covered fairly, without all of the attitude & bitterness. I should have realized what type of voice this author had early on when she dismissively stated that Cape May could hardly be considered "a destination" (never mind that Cape May is one of the most beloved beaches in the NJ/DE/PA region). Oh, & the author's early insistence that everyone (absolutely everyone) is bored, miserable, & unsatisfied at the beach, so honestly folks, there's no reason for us to even go!!! In hindsight, it was pretty clear what type of book this would be but I pressed on, hoping to have some of my own ideas challenged; instead, I came away annoyed & wanting more actual information & less snarky judgments.
"Paradise is only paradise when we have travel insurance that includes medevac."
In "The Last Resort," travel writer Sarah Stodola takes a magnifying glass to an industry that she both loathes and loves; the beach resort. She does a great job of showing how the industry looks just about the same wherever you find it in the world. How it starts, flourishes, destroys, and declines. She tells the story of the beach resort, what makes it attractive, and what its future may look like. It is all very interesting and sometimes truly insightful, albeit that the book is written more like a travel journal than as a critical analysis of the industry as a phenomenon and its impact.
However, although Stodola sets out to be critical in her analysis, I instead feel like the book was written almost like a flex (much like the Instagram travelers she frequently derides in the book). As mentioned, she absolutely provides history and insight both on the global phenomenon and on specific locales - and big kudos for the global span of those. I just wish it wasn't delivered through the personal narrative of "I went there..." accompanied with sometimes ridiculous gushing about how luxurious her stays there were. And that's what I mean by it being written more like a travel journal, no matter how much criticism she bakes into the narrative (and that's not always that much either).
Moreover, sometimes the criticism is more about the shock-value than it is about information. For example, she repeatedly claims that "[w]hen the Four Seasons golf course opened on Nevis, it used more water than the Caribbean island's main town." That statement definitely has shock-value, but it doesn't say all that much (for frame of reference, the main town is Charlestown and has a population of about 1800 people - still a crazy comparison, but not as shocking as just comparing the golf course with the "biggest town"), even if it does make for one of the greater "better alternative practices" towards the end of the book; namely, "[stop] building golf courses!"
A similar issue I have is that she often argues with the locals she interviews when they don't agree with her own observations, which comes across very condescending - although, at least she does include what the locals say. In fact, this full-disclosure approach even when she doesn't agree (or seemingly wants to disagree) is one of the strengths of the book. And it does allow for a pretty good and well-rounded approach to looking at both negatives and positives surrounding the industry's impact (generally not great for the environment but a more mixed bag when it comes to local economies and people).
Stodola finishes with a list of suggested changes to the industry's approach. Both self-imposed and through legislative mandates. Some of these I think are fantastic, others not so much, and a few are essentially arguing for enforcing a sort of elitism - which, don't get me wrong, isn't necessarily a bad idea from the perspective of what's environmentally ideal, but it's opening a whole different can of worms, doesn't it...
The book begins with a philosophical look at "finding one's beach," at finding paradise. It ends, not with "The Last Resort," but with how the author envisions how she (and the rest of us who can keep up financially) can keep pursuing essentially the same experiences without the guilty conscience. For someone who focuses so much of the book on more inclusive approaches, her solution is awfully exclusive. I don't think she's wrong, I just question the enforceability of it.
Besides, for the history of the Beach Resort phenomenon, this is the most approachable book that I've come across. And thus, recommended.
At first I thought this was a brilliant book: the theoretical / historical introduction was personal, efficient, and informative, and the first few chapters were akin to visiting the resorts discussed while maintaining a critical distance to see them as they function in society.
Then it went on, and on. And quirks emerged that, once seen, were unpleasant to read about. The picture emerged of the writer's decade-odd travel life through resorts that seemed to indicate the book is an opportunistic venture to capitalize on the author's existing fascination with resorts, which is fine enough but produces a more complicated relationship than an academic or journalistic study. Added to that, however, was the continued and frequent petulance of voice. Butlers were discussed, colour choices and outfits were focused on, and the persona of the author as privileged, white, and American began to be more pronounced than the character of any resorts that were the ostensible subject of discussion.
And the book went on and on. It never got more compelling than the first fifty pages of so. Instead, I finished in a dreary feeling of completion and with the same spirit of relief that you have when finally able to get up from an enforced conversation with someone seated next to you on transit whom you cannot escape.
Do you love the beach and look forward to your annual summer pilgrimages? Curiously, our ancestors did not! The Last Resort reports on the history of beach worship and tourism development throughout the world. It's incredibly interesting to see the history of each area, the impact tourism has had on the nation as a whole and the indigenous people and environment in the developed areas. Sarah Stodola is a travel writer and she includes her own experiences in each of the areas covered. The book reads almost like a story and is very enjoyable but will surely change your view of the beach. Are you a beach lover or armchair traveler? Do you want to learn more about the history of beach worshiping? This book is for you! #Netgalley #Netgalleyreads #TheLastResort #SarahStodola
if there’s a target audience for this book, it’s me. I am Not a Resort Person. therefore, i wanted so much more from this, but it all felt pretty surface level. i actually don’t really understand why this author went to all of these resorts because the bulk of this book is just research about them that you could do from anywhere…i wanted more at-the-resort insight that would have justified the author’s presence there, and there is some of it, but not enough.
here is my favorite quote: “this kind of travel, if it is the norm for you, can quickly distort your understanding of your relationship with the physical world you inhabit. Buffered by luxury, you may come to regard the world as a place without challenges. You may come to understand it as frictionless. You may never experience the humbling that accompanies not speaking the local language. You may never have the slightest idea of what the locals really think of you. You may never develop the wherewithal to care.”
"If there’s heaven for me, I’m sure it has a beach attached to it." ~ Jimmy Buffett
"The presumed universal appeal of beaches has been mirrored back to us by the media, leaving little room for serious consideration of the major global industry that has bred economic and social inequalities in many a locale, as well as contributed to the climate crisis while coming under existential threat from it- a paradise both threatening and threatened." Sarah Stodola
Life's a beach. That concept has been drilled into my head since I first set foot on one. Being from the Midwest, I rarely make it to the beach, but for many years I've envied people who could laze around a beach resort and live the lifestyle that we're all supposed to aspire to. But like everything that seems to be too good to be true, beach resorts have a dark side. Rarely do we get to see that dark side, but it's on full display in this book- The Last Resort.
Sarah Stodola is a travel writer and editor from New York who has written for the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and New Yorker and this is her second book. It's easy to get a little jealous of a privileged white woman who has trotted across the globe checking out its most famous and exclusive beaches. Stodola obviously likes beach culture and lifestyles, but maybe that makes her the perfect person to try and take them down.
One thing that I had not realized before reading this book is that beach resorts are a relatively new invention. Up until the late 19th century, beaches were ignored, feared and avoided because of the natural disasters and dangers that were present back then. That all changed with the European development of beach hotels and resorts on the sunny shores of France, Greece, and Italy. The wealthy of that age used the Gatsby-esque atmosphere of these decadent resorts to flaunt their riches and escape the cold winters of their native cities. Things have only gotten worse as beach culture has exploded in the 20th and 21st centuries, with the wealthiest 1% leading the way.
Beach vacations are now something to brag about, one of the ultimate status symbols, and the middle class has rapidly caught on. Middle class families that can afford it have flocked to the beaches as well, causing congestion and over-crowding that threatens the peaceful laid-back atmosphere of the "paradise" that we all seem to want to get away to. Stodola points out that while the American middle class is mostly stagnating, the Asian middle class- especially that of India and China, is exploding, with the travel industry increasingly catering to those new customers.
The book discusses a well-established development cycle that can be seen by most resort areas, and the author travels to examples of most of them. First is the Exploration stage, where the most adventurous travelers seek out remote beaches with few amenities and start spreading the word. Then comes the Involvement stage, when repeat customers entice the local population to begin to offer services like lodging and food. The real break comes with the Development stage, when large outside companies build larger hotels and take over most of the functions that the locals had been providing. That is followed by the Consolidation stage, when a resort area hits its peak, and tourism becomes the main driver of the area economy. Inevitably that is followed by the Stagnation and Decline stages, when over-development, overcrowding, and environmental degradation causes beach areas to lose their popularity as tourists find newer and shinier places to visit. She visited Senegal, which is still in the early stages of the cycle, Indonesia's Bali, that's at the peak, and Acapulco, that's heading downward thanks to concerns about violence there.
Most of the book is here travelogue of the many countries and beaches that she visited, and how they fall along the development timeline. Some areas have been smart about developing, and some have been reckless, but money talks, and the enormous wealth that has accumulated over the decades in the richest countries has turned the most idyllic locales like Hawaii, Fiji, and the Caribbean into tourist traps where economies revolve around well-heeled foreigners spending their money and pretending to care about local customs.
The biggest cloud hanging over most of these resorts is climate change, and the rising ocean levels that threaten to wipe them out. Ocean levels are currently rising, with an expected 1 foot rise by 2050 and perhaps 3 feet by the end of the century. This rise will radically transform beach fronts, eroding most of the sandy beaches as we know them and flooding streets. Seawalls that are put in to protect high rises cause problems after solving others. Many resort areas are already having to resort to transporting in new sand from other locations to restore beaches, but that will only get harder to do as sea levels rise. Stodola devotes one whole chapter to Miami Beach, as thin sand island at the forefront of climate change. While the state's governor refuses to acknowledge climate change, the leaders of Miami Beach are rapidly trying to adapt by raising roads and replenishing beaches as flooding is becoming more and more common there.
Resort development, like most other development, has been done with little concern for the local environment. Golf courses use enormous amounts of water and are out of place in seaside areas. Palm trees (most of which are imported) are inefficient at stabilizing sandy areas, and their shallow roots allow them to be knocked over with ease. Mangrove trees, that thrive in shoreline wetlands, have been removed and the wetlands filled in, with the stability that they offered gone. Offshore coral reefs are dying due to higher water temperatures, leaving beaches unprotected and wiping out diverse ecosystems.
Stodola finished the book with a list of well-informed recommendations, few of which have much hope of happening, but all of which make sense. They include:
- Discourage long airplane flights to remote areas. The carbon footprint from these flights is enormous, as is the footprint from importing everything needed to build resorts in remote areas.
- Source resorts locally. Most high-end resorts get wine, seafood, and produce from all over the world and have it shipped in for the convenience of their guests. More of what a resort consumes should be from local sources to minimize carbon and maximize the local economy.
- Stop building high-rises right next to the beach. Concrete and sand don't mix. Build further away to preserve beach health and minimize climate change flooding.
- Be more inviting to locals. To make their property more exclusive, local residents are discouraged from frequenting the same bars, restaurants and beaches as resort guests. They are only used as employees, and told to be polite and take care of the guests, no matter how rude or entitled they might be. Resorts should be more inclusive and integrated with the local population to
- Make hotels have skin in the game. In many areas, the local governments take on the huge responsibility of taking care of the ever-changing beaches. Resorts benefit from their work, sending many of the profits out of the country to corporate shareholders. If the beach is your main draw, you should have to pay to keep it up.
- Limit tourist numbers. A few countries are trying this, and it works to prevent overuse and over-development. Capitalism's guiding principle of more is always better flies in the face of this, but a balance between recreation and environment is what has been missing from many of these resorts as they proceed through the development cycle.
One night in a luxury resort can run anywhere from $500-$1,000. Add in expensive meals, long flights, and side trips, and most of these resorts can cost $20,000 or more for a week's stay, well out of reach of all but the wealthiest. These resorts promise paradise, but it is all an illusion. The locals know better. Mind you, beaches can be very relaxing and enjoyable places. I think everybody should have the chance to enjoy one, as long as it doesn't break their budget and destroy the beach.
There's something even more powerful about beaches, and that's the idea of what water does to our spirit. Water has the power to relax us and spiritually renew us, and I highly recommend a book called Blue Mind, which I reviewed here, if you really want to get the benefits of a beach without going to one. Rivers, lakes, and fountains can provide many of the same benefits.
If you want to feel better about not blowing $20K on a beach vacation, this is a good book to read. It made me appreciate my Midwestern environs more and not envy rich vacationers near as much.
Not only does this book lack organization but the author seems to have done minimal research beyond the history of places she visited. It seems more like an excuse to write-off trips to the resorts she talks so negatively about. The anti-tourism and lack of solutions leaves a bitter taste in the mouth of any reader. Her focus on only the negative is a pitiful way to approach anything.
What is the saddest of all is the horrid execution of her ‘findings’. No real experts were actually interviewed. In fact, every interview that she had is filled with the sour taste of a biased focus. For all the traveling that Sarah Stodola claims to have in the book she seems to be lacking an understanding of that industry and how it actually works. Her attempts at solutions are lacking in actual substance, or are completely incorrect. For instance, short haul flights are much less eco friendly than long haul - but admitting that wouldn’t help support her complaints.
This books comes across as an privileged elitists’ woes. All one can assume is that she used this book as an excuse to visit places that she wanted to see where her negative biases could run wild and unchecked. If she hates the beach resort so much why does she keep going back to them?! There are many other options of tourism. Let alone she could actually go to a beach resort that is doing thing right.
In fact, there are many places and organizations that are doing amazing things with regards to sustainable tourism, beach resorts included. There are even books and journals from people who are actually doing proper research on the impacts of tourism that properly illustrates both the negative and positive elements in an un-biased manner. Stodola, however, is a disgrace to the sustainability movement. In fact, illustrating anything positive would go against her glass as half empty bias. Do not waste your time on this poorly researched, horribly executed excuse of a book!
The book has interesting things to say. I'm particularly drawn to learning about the history, economic model, and social impact of beach resorts which I will never in my life be able to fully experience like a global traveler. The problem is the author's "white liberal woman" lens this is written in. I find myself disturbed at some passages in this novel where in Barbados, the author notes how transitioning to a tourist economy has allowed the country to fund successful public infrastructure and programs. Before, she writes about how tourism has eroded historical traditions; does she not have any perspective that people shouldn't be frozen in time, weaving baskets and performing manual labor to get food for the day, and should have a choice to participate in capitalism and modernism?
It's quite amazing how the author bemoans the beach resorts and tourism's impact on climate change but has so much travel experience to farflung places (forgiven by her purchase of climate credits). She writes from her high perch, judging from her elitist views and does little to empathize with any of the positive impact beach resorts have provided to less resourced countries.
The worst part is in the Barbados chapter where the author questions her behavior and perception of herself as a white tourist when she jumps in the ocean with black locals. I wish I had footage of her badgering the resort workers asking how many racist encounters they've had. It feels like she keeps pushing to prove racism and there is no supply.
Overall, this book could've presented a better case for what the author's points without this holier-than-thou attitude. I would not want to ever travel with her.
I received this book for free through a 'Goodreads First Reads' giveaway.
First of all, I was completely amazed by the amount of research the author underwent to complete this novel. The Last Resort is one of a kind; it includes history, detailed descriptions, the author's first-hand experiences at each of the locations, and the author's personal travel notes - all of which paint a thorough picture of the location and what your experiences might be like there. My favorite aspect of this book was the small minute details the author included of what she saw and experienced at each resort, such as the weather, the employees, the costs, the locals, the tourists, the food, etc. Theres's even details of what she observed tourists doing, like what was written on the shirts they were wearing and what they looked like posing for pictures. The only reason I did not rate this book as 5 stars is because it was so dense with information that it was a slow and sometimes difficult read, but I was still captivated from the first page to the last!
This is part history of the beach resort and part appeal to stop the creation of "typical" resorts as we've come to know them. Stodola is a travel writer and writes about her visits to a number of far-flung beaches around the world. Her writing fleshes out what another writer calls the tourist area cycle evolution and how development first benefits the country where resorts begin but then, without thoughtful oversight, can damage the environment and wear out the local population and even the very beaches that first drew travelers. She concludes with a list of ways to improve both existing and future resorts--it won't be easy, but it may well be necessary. I learned a great deal here and will definitely consider the author's recommendations when planning my next trip. Recommended
An engaging book about the history, economics and environmental impact of beach resorts around the world. The author has traveled widely and spoken with employees and tourists at these resorts as well as local people affected by changing tourism patterns. She captures the similarities and differences between the various beach experiences from mass market all inclusive resorts in Cancun to an island that caters to very wealthy travelers in Indonesia where you can watch turtles hatch.
There is sometimes a negative tone to the description of resort experiences. Despite spending so much time at beach resorts, the author rarely seems to be having a great time. The book really shines when she finds a place that she enjoys including the Villa Lara in Portugal and her visits to Miami Beach. In other chapters, there are a few too many critiques of the food and her fellow tourists (especially children). A good read, especially for anyone planning a beach vacation.
This book was unusual and very well-researched. I have visited several of the places in the book, though I am not nearly as adventurous as the author. Some of the spots I’ve always wanted to visit don’t sound worth the trip. So, this book saved me some money and long flights. Though I’ve been to many Mexican beaches I’ve always avoided the new wave vibe of Tulum, and this book tells me I made the right decision. In general, I prefer cities steeped in history to beaches so a little Cape Cod, Maine, Yucatan coast, and Acapulco are more than enough for me.
We recently returned from a pretty beach in Bermuda. The tourist bureau promised there would be chair and umbrella rentals. There weren’t, I struggled in the undertow and then the rain came. To me, that’s the reality of a beach vacation.