Travel

<html><body>
EXPERT OBSERVER
That’s a little dramatic, perhaps, but every day since has brought us closer to it being reality.
The COVID-19 crisis has the global travel industry – “the most consequential industry in the world”, says Ali – in uncharted territory. Nations are shutting their borders. Airlines face bankruptcy. Ports are refusing entry to cruise ships, threatening the very basis of the cruise business model.
Associated hospitality, arts and cultural industries are threatened. Major events are being cancelled. Tourist seasons in many tourist destinations are collapsing. Vulnerable workers on casual, seasonal or gig contracts are suffering. It seems an epic disaster.
But is it?
Considering <a href="https://edition.cnn.com/2020/03/01/world/nasa-china-pollution-coronavirus-trnd-scn/index" target="_blank">human activities need to change</a> if we are to avoid the worst effects of human-induced climate change, the coronavirus crisis might offer us an unexpected opportunity.
Ali, like many others, wants recovery, “even if it takes a while to get back up and return to pre-coronavirus traveller numbers”.
But rather than try to return to business as usual as soon as possible, COVID-19 challenges us to think about the type of consumption that underpins the unsustainable ways of the travel and tourism industries.
<h2>Tourism dependency</h2>
Air travel features prominently in discussions about reducing carbon emissions. Even if commercial aviation accounts “only” for about 2.4% of all emissions from fossil-fuel use, flying is still how many of us in the industrialised world blow out our carbon footprints.
But sustainability concerns in the travel and tourism sectors extend far beyond carbon emissions.
In many places tourism has grown beyond its sustainable bounds, to the detriment of local communities.
The <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-australia-might-be-at-risk-of-overtourism-99213" target="_blank">overtourism</a> of places like Venice, Barcelona and Reykjavik is one result. Cruise ships disgorge thousands of people for half-day visits that overwhelm the destination but leave little economic benefit.
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/266479/original/file-20190329-139352-3y65mo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=1000&amp;fit=clip"><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/266479/original/file-20190329-139352-3y65mo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=754&amp;fit=clip" alt=""></a> Graffiti in Barcelona: ‘Tourists go home. Refugees welcome.’ <a class="source" href="https://www.propertyobserver.com.au/https://www.flickr.com/photos/dullhunk/29569046192" target="_blank">Dunk/flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/" target="_blank">CC BY-SA</a>
Cheap airline fares encourage weekend breaks in Europe that have inundated old cities such as Prague and Dubrovnik. The need for growth becomes self-perpetuating as tourism dependency locks communities into the system.
In a 2010 paper <a href="https://www.propertyobserver.com.au/https://www.jstor.org/stable/23745318?seq=1" target="_blank">I argued</a> the problem was tourism underpinned by what sociologist Leslie Sklair called the “<a href="https://www.propertyobserver.com.au/https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/0263276410374634" target="_blank">culture-ideology of consumerism</a>” – by which consumption patterns that were once the preserve of the rich became endemic.
Tourism is embedded in that culture-ideology as an essential pillar to achieve endless economic growth. For instance, <a href="https://www.tourism.australia.com/en/markets-and-stats/tourism-statistics/the-economic-importance-of-tourism" target="_blank">the Australian government</a> prioritises tourism as a “supergrowth industry”, accounting for almost 10% of “exports” in 2017-18.
<h2>Out of crisis comes creativity</h2>
Many are desperate to ensure business continues as usual. “If people will not travel,” said Ariel Cohen of California-based business travel agency <a href="https://www.calcalistech.com/ctech/articles/0,7340,L-3800229,00" target="_blank">TripActions</a>, “the economy will grind to a halt.”
COVID-19 is a radical wake-up call to this way of thinking. Even if Cohen is right, that economic reality now needs to change to accommodate the more pressing public health reality.
It is a big economic hit, but crisis invites creativity. Grounded business travellers are realising virtual business meetings work satisfactorily. Conferences are reorganising for virtual sessions. Arts and cultural events and institutions are turning to <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/13/arts/music/coronavirus-pandemic-music-streaming" target="_blank">live streaming</a> to connect with audiences.
In Italian cities under lockdown, residents have come out on their balconies to create music as a community.
<iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/DDRiINXik00?wmode=transparent&amp;start=0" frameborder="0" width="440" height="260"></iframe>
Local cafes and food co-ops, including my local, are reaching out with support for the community’s marginalised and elderly to ensure they are not forgotten.
These responses challenge the atomised individualism that has gone hand in hand with the consumerism of travel and tourism. This public health crisis reminds us our well-being depends not on being consumers but on being part of a community.
Staying closer to home could be a catalyst awakening us to the value of eating locally, travelling less and just slowing down and connecting to our community.
After this crisis passes, we might find the old business as usual less compelling. We might learn that not travelling long distances didn’t stop us travelling; it just enlivened us to the richness of local travel.<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/133783/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-basic" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" style="border: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; margin: 0 !important; max-height: 1px !important; max-width: 1px !important; min-height: 1px !important; min-width: 1px !important; opacity: 0 !important; outline: none !important; padding: 0 !important; text-shadow: none !important;">
<a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/freya-higgins-desbiolles-181651" target="_blank">Freya Higgins-Desbiolles</a>, Senior Lecturer in Tourism Management, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/university-of-south-australia-1180" target="_blank">University of South Australia</a>
This article is republished from <a href="https://theconversation.com" target="_blank">The Conversation</a> under a Creative Commons license. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-end-of-global-travel-as-we-know-it-an-opportunity-for-sustainable-tourism-133783" target="_blank">original article</a>.
<a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/freya-higgins-desbiolles-181651"></a>Main image: Shutterstock
</body></html>

jrobinson-rf4aSBido9

The end of global travel as we know it: an opportunity for sustainable tourism

<html><body>
EXPERT OBSERVER
Every other year, retired couple Jorg and Jan journey some 5,000 kilometres in their campervan from Port Fairy in southeastern Australia to Broome in the far northwest for a change of lifestyle and scenery. There they catch up with other couples from across the nation, who often converge on the beach for communal dinners. Jorg and Jan’s break lasts several weeks.
They are two of tens of thousands of retired adults travelling independently across the continent at any given time in search of adventure, warmer weather and camaraderie after a lifetime of hard work. These part-time nomadic adventurers, or grey nomads, have recast the image of Australia’s ageing population. Rather than being inert and conservative, or in need of care, these older Australians are champions of a radical type of urbanism: dwellings are mobile, infrastructure is portable or pluggable, social networks are sprawled, and adherents are on the move daily or weekly.
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/243372/original/file-20181101-78450-2er13y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=1000&amp;fit=clip"><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/243372/original/file-20181101-78450-2er13y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=754&amp;fit=clip" alt=""> </a>Nomads driving along Meelup Beach Road near Dunsborough. Image courtesy of Tourism Western Australia
<a href="https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/grey_nomad" target="_blank">Grey nomad</a> is a term used to describe Australians over 55 years old who travel for an extended time – from weeks to months – and cover more than 300 kilometres in a day across semi-arid and coastal Australia. The term was popularised following the 1997 Australian documentary <a href="http://www.decembermedia.com.au/grey-nomads/" target="_blank">Grey Nomads</a>, which captured the phenomenon of older travellers who made their homes wherever they parked.
<h2>What is the scale of grey nomadism?</h2>
Travellers, including grey nomads, contribute to a “roaming economy”: decentralised dwelling results in decentralised spending. The Western Australian government estimated in its <a href="https://www.tourism.wa.gov.au/Publications%20Library/About%20Us/Caravan%20and%20Camping%20Snapshot%202016.pdf" target="_blank">Caravan and Camping Visitor Snapshot 2016 report</a> that 1.54 million domestic visitors spent time in caravans or camping, contributing more than A$1 billion to the state economy.
According to the Campervan &amp; Motorhome Club of Australia, <a href="https://members.cmca.net.au/content/govind" target="_blank">RV drivers spend an average of $770 per week</a>. And their value to a remote place extends beyond economic capital to human capital. Grey nomads often provide labour (such as gardening, house-sitting or their pre-retirement professional skills) in exchange for a place to park or for extra income.
<img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/243368/original/file-20181101-78474-1toa99c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=754&amp;fit=clip" alt="">  Nomads relax at a caravan site in Esperance. Image courtesy of Tourism Western Australia
The availability of caravan parks, campsites and public parking reserves is essential to attract the grey nomad to regional towns. According to a 2012 report for Tourism WA, <a href="https://www.tourism.wa.gov.au/Publications%20Library/Industry%20Support%20and%20Opportunities/The_Brighthouse_report_June_2012_v2.pdf" target="_blank">A Strategic Approach to Caravan &amp; Camping Tourism in Western Australia</a>, the state had a total of 37,369 campsites at 769 locations. In addition, remote private properties are becoming available through apps such as <a href="https://www.wikicamps.com.au/" target="_blank">WikiCamps Australia</a>.
But while many nomads go off-grid, carrying their solar panels and generators, others are just looking for free reserves to park in. Beyond the site and its amenities – such as power, water, showers or flushing toilets – qualities such as “authenticity” are important to nomads, as <a href="https://ro.ecu.edu.au/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?referer=https://www.google.com/&amp;httpsredir=1&amp;article=1155&amp;context=theses_hons" target="_blank">highlighted by Mandy Pickering</a>. Sites should feel remote rather than urban.
<h2>Will future generations be as fortunate?</h2>
The rise of the grey nomad over the past half-century has been made possible through the ability of ageing Australians to fund this retirement lifestyle. They might sell their houses (some may simply benefit from having secure accommodation), withdraw their superannuation or receive government benefits. Nomadism is a reward after a lifetime entangled in an economic and social system that keeps the individual tied to a stable workplace and place to live.
<img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/243370/original/file-20181101-78471-1mo3fk9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=754&amp;fit=clip" alt=""> Aerial view of Osprey Campground near Ningaloo Reef. Image courtesy of Tourism Western Australia
For future generations, the outlook in terms of grey nomadism being a viable retirement lifestyle is not especially bright. <a href="https://theconversation.com/home-ownership-foundations-are-being-shaken-and-the-impacts-will-be-felt-far-and-wide-91664" target="_blank">Home ownership is sliding out of reach</a> for many younger people. And many are enmeshed in the gig economy, meaning they are not receiving employer superannuation contributions.
Future generations may be so much in debt or living in such straitened circumstances that they cannot retire to a life of leisurely travel.
While grey nomadism might not be a sustainable model in the future, the lifestyle demonstrates how future generations of nomads – not necessarily grey – can live cheaply while populating regional centres for weeks or months, bringing economic and human capital to these remote places. These nomads will be able to work on their laptops in the public libraries, cafes, share houses and co-working spaces of country towns, accessing work remotely through cloud-based telecommunications.
They might not come in campervans but be dropped off in driverless vehicles; vacant campsites might become sites for small cabins. Or, as these nomads will be looking for temporary accommodation, spare rooms or entire houses might be made available. To find these dwellings, they might use apps that bring great efficiency to managing housing occupancy, enabling the “sharing” (renting) of unoccupied space for days, weeks or months.
Are regional towns ready to embrace these “emerging nomads” who are attracted by affordable living costs, network coverage, fast internet speeds, great weather, temporary housing options and unique regional identities, as the grey nomads were before them?
Grey nomads are recognised as a group that requires distributed infrastructures. They demonstrate a capacity for domesticity and urbanity without boundaries. The grey nomads are the precursor to a new generation that might not only want to travel, but need to in an economic environment that is not static or stable. And that will mean they can no longer afford to stay in one place.
This article was co-authored by Amelia Borg, a director of Sibling Architecture and a Masters of Business student at the University of Melbourne.
The Conversation is co-publishing articles with <a href="http://www.alva.uwa.edu.au/community/futurewest" target="_blank">Future West (Australian Urbanism)</a>, produced by the University of Western Australia’s Faculty of Architecture, Landscape and Visual Arts. These articles look towards the future of urbanism, taking Perth and Western Australia as its reference point, with the latest series focusing on the regions. You can read other articles <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/future-west-30248" target="_blank">here</a>.
<a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/timothy-moore-292089" target="_blank">Timothy Moore</a>, PhD Candidate, Melbourne School of Design, <a href="http://theconversation.com/institutions/monash-university-1065" target="_blank">Monash University</a>
This article is republished from <a href="http://theconversation.com" target="_blank">The Conversation</a> under a Creative Commons license. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/grey-nomad-lifestyle-provides-a-model-for-living-remotely-106074" target="_blank">original article</a>.
</body></html>

Grey nomad lifestyle provides a model for living remotely

<html><body>
EXPERT OBSERVERS
As virtual reality technology improves, it creates new opportunities for travellers seeking new experiences. This is the latest instalment of our <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/tourism-and-technology-60904" target="_blank">series</a> exploring how technology is changing tourism.
Tourism is often about seeking deeper emotional and personal connections with the world around us. It’s a quintessential part of the “<a href="https://www.propertyobserver.com.au/http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0047287507304039" target="_blank">experience economy</a>”, creating memories that can be recalled, re-lived and re-shared for a <a href="https://www.emeraldinsight.com/doi/abs/10.1108/TR-03-2017-0041" target="_blank">lifetime</a>.
But not all travel experiences take place in the real world. With the evolution of virtual reality (VR) technology, tourism is increasingly a mash-up of physical and virtual worlds. VR can even remove the need to travel entirely.
Excessive tourism, or over-tourism, in popular destinations can degrade heritage sites, the quality of life of host communities, and the experience of visitors. Virtual reality not only offers alternative forms of access to threatened <a href="https://dl.acm.org/citation.cfm?id=3167974" target="_blank">locations</a>, it also recreates historical experiences and provides virtual access to remote locations you might not make it to otherwise.
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240186/original/file-20181011-72133-pgadsr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=1000&amp;fit=clip"><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/240186/original/file-20181011-72133-pgadsr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=754&amp;fit=clip" alt=""></a> Up to 6,000 people were visiting Maya Bay every day before it was closed to tourists. <a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/maya-bay-phi-leh-island-thailand-128142050?src=qbfXg2R67vydk-u6AmL41w-1-9" target="_blank">Shutterstock</a>
<h2>Evoking a sense of ‘being there’</h2>
Our brains seem to have an inbuilt VR-like mechanism that enables us to live <a href="https://www.emeraldinsight.com/doi/abs/10.1108/TR-03-2017-0041" target="_blank">imagined experiences</a>. Much of our waking life is spent thinking about either the past (retrospection) or the future (prospection). This is known as <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3815569/" target="_blank">mind wandering</a>.
During these events we’re not paying attention to the current world around us. Instead, we’re recalling memories, or creating and processing imagined futures.
When we’re engaged in mind wandering, our brains process and appraise mental images via the same <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/13683500.2017.1388770?journalCode=rcit20" target="_blank">neural pathways</a> they use to receive stimuli from the real world. So, the imagined past or future can evoke emotions and feelings similar to how we react to everyday life.
VR can elicit these same feelings. Virtual worlds use sensory stimulation and vivid imagery to generate authentic experiences. Immersion in these environments <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/13683500.2017.1388770?af=R&amp;journalCode=rcit20" target="_blank">can lead to a deeper understanding</a> of a place or event than simply reading about it or looking at pictures.
There is evidence virtual reality can create absorption, or a state of attention, leading to a sense of “<a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/322112864_Determining_Visitor_Engagement_through_Augmented_Reality_at_Science_Festivals_An_Experience_Economy_Perspective" target="_blank">presence</a>” or “<a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/312046962_Virtual_Reality_and_Attitudes_Toward_Tourism_Destinations" target="_blank">being there</a>”. After a tourism VR experience of the Great Barrier Reef, for example, <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/13683500.2017.1388770?af=R&amp;journalCode=rcit20">participants reported experiencing</a> a sense of relaxation, similar to that gained from travel in real life.
<h2>What VR tourism looks like</h2>
<h3>Choosing a destination</h3>
Immersive videos of Australian holiday destinations created by Tourism Australia have been viewed more than 10.5 million times over the past two years. Research conducted by <a href="http://www.tourism.australia.com/content/dam/assets/document/1/6/y/7/t/2003897.pdf" target="_blank">Tourism Australia</a> shows that almost 20% of consumers have used VR to choose a holiday destination, while about 25% plan to use VR to choose a future destination. There is evidence VR can sometimes <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/314949464_Understanding_Virtual_Reality_in_Marketing_Nature_Implications_and_Potential" target="_blank">surpass reality</a>, potentially leading the participant to choose an alternate destination.
<iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/t88g8sZaVi4?wmode=transparent&amp;start=0" frameborder="0" width="440" height="260"></iframe> A 360 degree video of Stokes Bay on Kangaroo Island in South Australia.
<h3>Sustainability</h3>
In March, Thai authorities closed sections of the famous Maya Bay (which featured in Hollywood movie The Beach) because over-tourism threatened coral reefs. VR could offer experiences of locations like this without impacting the natural environment. It could also help support capacity management at “bucket list” destinations, such as Machu Picchu. But if VR is too effective at reducing visitation, alternate forms of income for local people need to be developed to support economic viability.
<iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RhQY6sKmEo0?wmode=transparent&amp;start=0" frameborder="0" width="440" height="260"></iframe> Visiting Machu Picchu.
<h3>Historical recreations</h3>
In 2018, the Australian War Memorial brought the <a href="https://www.awm.gov.au/hamelvr" target="_blank">Battle of Hamel</a> to virtual life using 3D and 360 degree video. Designers of the A$100 million Sir John Monash Centre in Villers-Bretonneux, France used immersive video, interactive touch screens and historical relics to <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/world/europe/sir-john-monash-world-war-i-recreation-so-real-it-will-make-you-cry-20180422-p4zazg" target="_blank">recreate the soldiers’ experience</a> on the Western Front during WWI. Similar work is being completed in regional Australia to recreate life on a US Airbase on “the Brisbane Line” – Australia’s controversial last point of defence in WWII.
<iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/GlNPUZbccrQ?wmode=transparent&amp;start=0" frameborder="0" width="440" height="260"></iframe> Audiences can immerse themselves in the key action fought on 4 July 1918 on the Western Front via VR.
<h3>Access to remote areas</h3>
Wildlife watching can elicit <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q6AiIK2huHU" target="_blank">feelings</a> of empathy, surprise, novelty, even fear. It can also generate excitement, stimulation, entertainment and learning. But government regulation, cost, remoteness and seasonality of migratory patterns may limit opportunities for people to encounter some of the awe-inspiring creatures on our planet. Virtual immersion can offer alternatives that support conservation goals and provide transformative visitor experiences.
<iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/JApQBIsCK6c?wmode=transparent&amp;start=0" frameborder="0" width="440" height="260"></iframe> Birdly is a flight simulator that uses arm holsters and 3D goggles to give a person the feeling of a bird soaring above ground.
<h2>Enhancing health and wellbeing</h2>
VR tourism could also help to increase health and well-being. Long working hours can lead to anxiety and depression. Research demonstrates <a href="https://www.propertyobserver.com.au/http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/1467358416638918" target="_blank">immersion in the outdoors</a> encourages relaxation, rejuvenation, expectation, surprise, trust in oneself, and improved self-esteem that can contribute to reduced symptoms. Short breaks using tourism-based VR experiences can mirror these effects and improve health.
<iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZW3AiBjuH08?wmode=transparent&amp;start=0" frameborder="0" width="440" height="260"></iframe> Tourists encounter whales in the wild and are treated to a spectacular display.
New possibilities for VR <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0261517709001332" target="_blank">applications</a> – both practical and pleasurable – are emerging as the technology evolves. And as travellers seek new and novel experiences, combining virtual with real world experiences may become a common feature of tourism in the future.<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/101258/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-basic" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" style="border: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; margin: 0 !important; max-height: 1px !important; max-width: 1px !important; min-height: 1px !important; min-width: 1px !important; opacity: 0 !important; outline: none !important; padding: 0 !important; text-shadow: none !important;">
<a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/vikki-schaffer-531166" target="_blank">Vikki Schaffer</a>, Program Co-ordinator and Lecturer, Tourism, Leisure and Event Management, <a href="http://theconversation.com/institutions/university-of-the-sunshine-coast-1068" target="_blank">University of the Sunshine Coast</a>; <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/alexandra-bec-541089" target="_blank">Alexandra Bec</a>, Postdoctoral research fellow, <a href="http://theconversation.com/institutions/university-of-the-sunshine-coast-1068" target="_blank">University of the Sunshine Coast</a>; <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/brent-d-moyle-541088" target="_blank">Brent D. Moyle</a>, Associate Dean (Research), Faculty of Arts Business and Law / A/Professor of Tourism, USC Business, <a href="http://theconversation.com/institutions/university-of-the-sunshine-coast-1068" target="_blank">University of the Sunshine Coast</a>, and <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/noel-scott-282162" target="_blank">Noel Scott</a>, Professor at the Institute of Tourism, <a href="http://theconversation.com/institutions/griffith-university-828" target="_blank">Griffith University</a>
This article is republished from <a href="http://theconversation.com" target="_blank">The Conversation</a> under a Creative Commons license. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/vr-technology-gives-new-meaning-to-holidaying-at-home-but-is-it-really-a-substitute-for-travel-101258" target="_blank">original article</a>.
</body></html>

j.ballantyne1990-6AQqhLzZaK

Can VR technology be a substitute for travel?

<html><body>
Air travel data company OAG recently published data that assessed the world's top ten city pairs by revenue - which airline makes the most money on an individual route - and Qantas and its Melbourne-Sydney route was given second place.

Between April 2017 and March 2018, <a href="https://www.oag.com/blog/billion-dollar-route">OAG reports</a> Qantas earned $854,692,402 USD ($1.051 billion AUD using March 2018 exchange rates) by flying between Melbourne &amp; Sydney.

The highest earning route was British Airways' London-Heathrow to New York-JFK route ($1,037,724,867 USD / $1.276 billion AUD) and the third highest earning route was Emirates' Dubai to London-Heathrow route ($819,409,702 USD / $1.008 billion AUD).

As OAG points out, 5 of the top 10 routes have London on one side of the city pair but all but the Australian route are either trans-continental or inter-continental flights (New York to Los Angeles, San Francisco; Toronto to Vancouver; London to Hong Kong, Singapore, New York, Doha, Dubai; and Sydney to Singapore).  

<figure><a class="colorbox colorbox-insert-image" href="https://res.cloudinary.com/dz9xllyip/image/fetch/q_auto:good/https://s3-ap-southeast-2.amazonaws.com/www.urban.com.au/s3fs-public//pictures/article-images/top_10_revenue.png" rel="gallery-all" title="Top 10 Revenue Routes - image: OAG"><img alt="" class="image-article-full-width-580px" height="361" src="/sites/urban.melbourne/files//styles/article_full_width_580px/public/pictures/article-images/top_10_revenue.png?itok=MCbR58mg" title="Top 10 Revenue Routes - image: OAG" width="580"></a>

<figcaption>Top 10 Revenue Routes - image: <a href="https://www.oag.com/blog/billion-dollar-route">OAG</a></figcaption></figure>Melbourne and Sydney is a considerably shorter route compared to the North American trans-continental flights and the lack of any other major city pairs located within 1000km of each other in the top 10 list provided by OAG speaks to the heavy reliance on aviation we have in Australia.

In the top air routes by traffic (either the number of frequencies or the name of passengers flown), those city pairs are dominated by domestic routes around the world, especially those that are less than 1000km apart.  

Seoul to Jeju, Tokyo to Sapporo, Tokyo to Fukuoka, Tokyo to Osaka, Delhi to Mumbai, Melbourne to Sydney, Beijing to Shanghai, Sao Paulo to Rio de Janiero and Johannesburg to Cape Town have all at some stage made it to a 10 busiest air route list.

With the exception of Tokyo to Osaka, and Beijing to Shanghai, those common city pairs all have very little in the way of fast land transport links that would compete on a time basis with aviation. (Japan's Shinkansen network technically reaches Fukuoka and Sapporo, for the most part, however, the travel times can be upwards of 5 hours by rail, Beijing to Shanghai via the fastest train still takes a touch under 5 hours).

None of the aforementioned top busiest routes get a mention in the OAG routes by revenue release, except for Melbourne to Sydney.

The prevailing dismissive argument for high-speed rail in Australia amongst advocates and anyone engaged in transport issues - those who like to highlight existing problems or those who are passionate about how we might do things differently - is that Australia's population is too sparse for it to work in this country.

Casual reminder: the numbers above are for Qantas only (I assume it also includes Jetstar) - Virgin Australia, although the smaller of the two mainline operators has a significant amount of services flying between the two cities each day as well, the real amount of money earned by airlines between Melbourne &amp; Sydney will be much more than just over $1billion AUD per annum.

Seeing the dollar amounts associated with the very high volume of people who travel between Melbourne and Sydney offers up some fairly significant food for thought. The current revenue that Qantas earns roughly correlates with the projected revenue figures from the 2012 &amp; Rudd Government-era East Coast High-Speed Rail study.

In that <a href="https://infrastructure.gov.au/rail/publications/high-speed-rail-study-reports/files/HSR_Phase_2_Chapter_8.pdf">study</a>, it projected roughly $2 billion in revenue shortly after the opening of a high-speed rail link between Melbourne &amp; Sydney (Sydney &amp; Canberra would open first with a projected ~$500 million in operator revenue).
</body></html>

Alastair Taylor

Airline revenue data on Melbourne-Sydney air route is food for thought

<html><body>
Here is your chance to win a trip of a lifetime.
Property Observer have teamed up with Aurora Expeditions to offer a trip for two worth $28,000 exploring the Antarctica.
The 11 day expedition gets up close and personal with penguins, seals and whales.
For your chance to win, <a href="https://propertyobserver.clickfunnels.com/optin-14128244" target="_blank">click here</a>.
All new and current subscribers are welcome to enter the giveaway competition.
<iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/mWFcSNZpoCw" frameborder="0" width="450" height="253"></iframe>
</body></html>

jonathanchancellor-7SQnKwU6yx

Win a $28,000 Aurora Expeditions Antarctica trip by signing up to Property Observer

<html><body>
<h4> </h4>
Jean-Paul Gagnon, University of Canberra; David Carter, University of Canberra; Fanny Thornton, University of Canberra
 
Most of us know the story of what Salon’s Elias Isquith calls “Wall Street’s favourite disrupter”. Uber, the ride-hailing service run primarily through smartphones, is a global economic success story.
In 2008, it was but an idea held by Travis Kalanick and Garrett Camp. Today it is a profit-making “unicorn”. It was recently valued at US$62.5 billion.
How Uber came to be worth such significant sums is a question often posed.
Integral to its success was its speedy efforts at connecting riders with drivers through smartphones. This saw Uber become an on-demanddisruptor business. In the process, it has alluringly branded itself as a service “for the good of all” that puts “people first”.
Uber seemingly takes from over-priced taxis, facilitates livelihoods for its drivers, gives to the needy rider and sticks it to urban regulators – or so the story goes.
Much closer to the truth may be that when Uber isn’t wrapping itself in cloaks of communal good, it is busy trying to institute a monopoly on ride-hailing. It actively encloses what could be a more open city in which riders and drivers work to benefit city residents.
<h2>Now you’re open, now you’re closed</h2>
Uber “opens” cities to “close” them. We think this way because Uber is just another intermediary capitalist (like eBay, Airbnb and PayPal) that profits from the needs of typically urban people connected to the internet.
Uber is therefore an extension of capitalism and, because of that, can be understood as a business trying to maximise its market share.
Uber “opens to close” a city in three steps:
<ul>
<li>
to disrupt the existing taxi monopoly (a closed system) through marketing and paying fines incurred by its drivers;
</li>
<li>
to entice riders to download its app, drivers to “share” their car, and urban regulators to acquiesce to the popularity of the Uber service; and
</li>
<li>
to exclude ride-hailing alternatives through its maximised market share.
</li>
</ul>
 
The marketing Uber uses to disrupt the grip one or more taxi companies have on a city is to present a rich rhetoric of being the “alternative”, somehow “grassroots” and, most importantly, a “communal” choice for drivers and riders. It casts itself as a Robin Hood in the struggle against unjust, or simply outdated, urban regulators.
This branding, Uber’s cheaper price and its convenient app make it an alluring option for ride-hailers. So long, cabbie dynasty, this city’s now open.
But because Uber grows within the shell of the taxi industry all it really does is open a city to enclose it for its own benefit. It does this through consistent marketing to riders, but also by enticing drivers to partner with Uber with promises of higher pay and a be-your-own-boss mentality.
Uber also crows about creating tens of thousands of jobs and getting one million women into work. This helps to get regulators onside.
A city is “closed” when Uber’s enclosure is complete: when it has successfully disrupted taxis, changed ride-hailing regulation and has a city’s residents on board (so to speak).
We say closed because an “Uber city” is a city captured by intermediary (middleman) capitalism. Defeated taxis are creating their own apps, and alternatives abound. But Uber’s market dominance makes it very difficult for more meaningful alternatives to emerge.
Market dominance means the exclusion of competitors and the control of the means of production so that profits keep rolling in. “Capture your market” is a mantra for a reason. And that reason is because it works – it’s Capitalism 101.
<h2>An open-city alternative</h2>
The need to get around a city safely and conveniently shouldn’t be viewed as an opportunity for businesses like Uber to cash in. STML/flickr
A truly open city would be one where residents are invited, supported and backed by their city government to create their own ride-hailing apps.
Riders still get picked up for a fair price, drivers still get paid more, but profit goes into a public trust to ensure the apps provide good service but also to fund resident-specific projects, like bike roads fully separated from cars.
Not only will this keep jobs and money inside the city, but it also puts a vital transportation resource into the hands of city residents and not a foreign business.
The need to get around a city safely, conveniently and with as little carbon emissions as possible shouldn’t be viewed as an opportunity for businesses like Uber to cash in. It should rather be treated as a common pool resource.
Since the majority of people in cities still depend on cars and roads to get around, chasing the wrong incentives can lead to chronic traffic jams and a host of other problems.
City residents don’t want traffic jams; moving around is a vital part of their daily lives. Uber doesn’t necessarily mind traffic jams because of surge pricing and a rolling meter – it still makes money. Ironically, despite this conflict of interests, Uber is the US$62 billion Wall Street poster child and the open-city alternative is excluded.
Uber may open cities from taxi rackets, but it closes them off to the possibility of more radical and meaningful alternatives.
To read more from The Conversation <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-uber-opens-cities-only-to-close-them-59067?utm_medium=email&amp;utm_campaign=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20July%206%202016%20-%205178&amp;utm_content=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20July%206%202016%20-%205178+CID_f7988f9ce5c939534436cde1d2bfddde&amp;utm_source=campaign_monitor&amp;utm_term=How%20Uber%20opens%20cities%20only%20to%20close%20them" target="_blank">click here.</a>
</body></html>

po-LsXgBTHBmX

How Uber opens cities only to close them

<html><body>
GUEST OBSERVER
Our experiences are heightened when we travel. Removed from our day-to-day rituals and familiar terrain, even the most pedestrian things - street signs, passersby, sidewalk cafes - can become fascinating.
But in the age of Google Street View and the relentless posting of holiday snaps on Instagram and Facebook, experiencing unfamiliarity has become harder.
Social media is reconfiguring our experience of the city, and tapping into our increasing appetite for unique and authentic urban experiences.
<h2>Architectural icons in the age of social media</h2>
In The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction (1936), Walter Benjamin argues that artworks embody an “aura” – a kind of authenticity that cannot be captured in a reproduction. Each time an artwork is reproduced through film or photography, the cultural value of the original is diluted.
Architect Hans Hollein made a similar observation in response to the increasing access to television in the 1960s:
It is almost of no importance if […] the pyramids exist in physical reality, as most people are aware of them through other media anyway.
Benjamin and Hollein’s concerns for the dwindling cultural value of the original has never been truer than in the current image-saturated context of social media.
<div class="enlarge_hint">We have exhausted our global architectural icons – they have been reduced to photogenic backdrops for our selfies. We want to be seen at these sites because they allow our audiences to instantly locate us. But, as cultural experiences, they have become empty and clichéd.</div>
Enter Airbnb.
Whether coincidentally, or strategically, Airbnb’s appearance is well-timed. In the company’s Mankind, Belong Anywhere marketing strategy, Airbnb promises something much more immersive: a day in the life of a local.
<h2>Interpreting buildings: from spectator to participant through Airbnb</h2>
It is widely acknowledged that there is a shift in mentality among Millennials, who privilege the consumption of experience over the consumption of material things. We could understand our changing relationship with buildings as an extension of this logic.
In Learning from Las Vegas (1972), Robert Venturi and Denise Scott Brown investigated the architectural strategies casinos developed in response to the drive-by experience of tourists to the Strip.
They categorised buildings into Ducks and Decorated Sheds. By their terms, Ducks are architectural icons whose meaning is conveyed through their form. Sheds are everyday generic buildings, whose meanings are conveyed through applied signage.
But through platforms such as Airbnb, we are no longer spectators reading a visual language. Meaning is derived through experience, through our active participation.
We are invited to interchangeably experience the ordinary and the extraordinary varieties. Both the Le Corbusier-designed apartment and the suburban bungalow are up for grabs.
<h2>Airbnb reconfiguring the city</h2>
Airbnb has reprogrammed the city. The “hardware” or urban fabric remains the same, but the “software” – our use of it – has been radically reconfigured.
European summers have traditionally seen an influx of tourists to historical centres, while the local populations – the majority of whom live outside the centre – vacate to escape the summer heat. Rather than leaving their homes vulnerable and losing money on rent, many locals are choosing to sublet.
As a result, everyday neighbourhoods that would typically be in lock-down during this period have reawakened. The decentralised activity provides incentive for local businesses to continue their operation, and more eyes on the street.
Opening up the tourism industry to grassroots entrepreneurs has been a democratising process. With the redistribution of available accommodation across the city, our urban experience has changed.
A mapping exercise comparing the location of hotels to Airbnb stays in Brisbane in September suggests that the online platform offers a much more diffuse and a largely suburban experience. This is in direct opposition to the almost exclusively urban experience indicated by the concentration of hotels in the centre.
Adding to the allure is that the Airbnb map is always in a state of flux. Tourists may never experience the city in the same way twice. To this effect, the psychology of Airbnb is similar to that of the ephemeral pop-up. The “ordinary” and everyday “back regions” – now much more accessible – have become the fresh, unchartered territory for exploration. 
Each year, governments around the world pour huge amounts of money into the anachronistic preservation and maintenance of historic city centres primarily for the tourist market. Has Airbnb burst the “Disneyland” bubble that has enveloped our historical centres, governing their image and operations for export?
Since Airbnb, the traditional spatial division between urban tourist and the suburban local has been ruptured.
It remains to be seen whether this leads to positive urban outcomes such as the upgrading of infrastructure for our greater metropolitan areas, or whether the “city-as-a-themepark” analogy will persist and spread, sanitising and homogenising our everyday neighbourhoods.
<h2>Architectural implications</h2>
Certainly, the impacts of Airbnb on architectural typologies are already tangible. We are witnessing a shift towards new and modified residential configurations to accommodate co-habitation or dual occupation which, increasingly, may start to drive housing diversity.
Another product of the Airbnb phenomenon is the revival of urban “existenzminimum”: making use of existing left-over spaces that are plainly too small for long-term rental but that resonate and fetch a good price with experience-seeking Airbnb guests.
The more sinister flipside could be the perpetuation of unregulated, high-density apartments. The potential is for such properties to be designed as investments to maximise profits with little or no regard for their presently “itinerant” tenants, or future legacy.
As with the taxi industry after Uber, there has been much speculation about the impact of informal tourism on the hotel industry. Researchers have argued that while Airbnb lowers the financial barriers for travel and will appeal to adventurist tourists, hotels will continue to attract business travellers.
<h2>Consolidating attraction and accommodation</h2>
But there is evidence that hotels are also responding to the shift in the market towards an “experience economy". Melbourne-based entrepreneurs responsible for a number of successful bars in the CBD have reconceptualised the hotel experience around “luxury camping.”
A one-night stay in a luxury tent pitched on top of an urban shopping mall costs A$450, roughly equivalent in price to a junior suite with bay views at a five-star hotel, and without the necessary infrastructure and overheads.
The camping experience gives weight to the argument that, despite the changing nature of tourism, our cities have not yet escaped theme-park status. Only now, the attraction is the accommodation, and it is becoming more elaborate in step with the desires of today’s more sophisticated tourist.
While both the camping hotel and Airbnb promise “unique” new perspectives and exploit temporality to their advantage, the Airbnb brand is one built on everyday authenticity, and a sharing economy.
But the company’s recent acquisition of the tunnels in the Parisian Catacombs for €350,000 in time for Halloween suggests that it could be moving away from this pitch, towards something truly frightening. This brings the revelation that Airbnb is not simply operating as a platform for the publicity of our private spaces, but are also doing the exact opposite: privatising our public spaces.
The acquisition might provide a window into the future of our “tired” global architectural icons – their death and rebirth as part of a privatised, consolidated approach to attraction and accommodation.
 
Jacqui Alexander is lecturer in architecture, Monash University and author for The Conversation. She can be contacted <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/jacqui-alexander-196982" target="_blank" style="line-height: 1.3em;">here</a>.
</body></html>

Travel

Editor's Picks

Have something to contribute?

Developments

New apartments

New townhouses

News

Travel

Editor's Picks

Receive the latest news stories to your inbox

Have something to contribute?

Developments

New apartments

New townhouses

News