Most visitors to Victoria, B.C. will arrive by sea, on one of the numerous ferries that ply the scenic waters between Vancouver Island and mainland British Columbia or Washington state. I can’t imagine that any visitor would fail to be captivated by Victoria’s narrow harbor, ringed by the stately structures of the B.C. Parliament buildings and the venerable Empress Hotel. These bastions of Victoria’s architectural scenery remain imprinted on one’s mind as emblems of this delightful city.

It’s kind of like that first view you get of the castle when you’ve made it past the main gates of Disneyland: there, suspended above the throng of touristic heads, is that perfectly familiar vision you’ve known since childhood. Approaching Victoria, I get a similar sense of anticipation as the boat makes the final turn, revealing the Inner Harbour, which appears just as I’ve always known it - dignified, picturesque, intimate in scale and utterly captivating.

At first glance, anyway.

A closer look reveals a proliferation of newer buildings, some of which are conscientiously reminiscent of the twin symbols of the city. Other construction, however, is less reverent. Hotels and souvenir shops crowd the shoreline and extend well into the traditional urban core. The quaint harbor area, which once echoed the dignity and reserved politesse of Empire, is rapidly becoming a warren of high-speed ferry terminals, t-shirt shops, and tourist restaurants.

In the past decades, whatever actual businesses that remained in the harbor area have fled, leaving in their absence an ever-widening ring of tourist-oriented commerce – commerce that increasingly resembles the same tour-bus dreck you can find anywhere, with sweatshirts screenprinted in Malaysia, coffee mugs from Korea, and faux-Canadian memorabilia from New Jersey. Granted, most of it is reasonably low-key, in keeping with traditional Canadian, uh, low-keyedness, but still...

There is a unique sort of myopic conservatism that often plagues tourists. When we travel, we foolishly and unrealistically want time to stand still: for the Swiss to wear those adorable lederhosen, for Indians to sport topees and turbans, for Micronesians to greet us in full grass-skirt-and-conch-shell regalia. Under no circumstance should residents of our quaint travel destinations use cell phones or display threatening hairstyles.

I don't think I'm falling prey to that when I complain about Victoria. As we strolled further from the harbor area, we entered an edgier urban neighborhood, full of local shops, tattoo parlors, and youthful clubs. While not at all in keeping with Victoria's oh-so-genteel image, it was nevertheless a relief to know that real life still exists in this city. I acknowledge that BMWs have supplanted rickshaws in Bangkok; that Nikes, not wooden clogs, are the footwear of choice in Amsterdam. Similarly, I want life to continue in Victoria, not to have it frozen in a quaint but unrealistic time capsule.

By all of this, I certainly don’t want to imply that Victoria isn’t an attractive or unpleasant city – it’s undeniably beautiful and a wonderful destination. But in its relentless pursuit of tourist dollars, it runs the risk, I think, of becoming a caricature of itself, of becoming no more real or relevant than Disneyland’s Main Street.

If you do any research whatsoever on Victoria, you'll be inundated with phrases like "more British than Britain", "lovely gardens", and, inevitably, the adjective "charming". And it's true, Victoria is all of those things. It's also in very real danger of becoming an oversized touristic theme park: a faux construction that merely resembles a city rather than one that actually operates as one. And that would be a real shame.

Copyright 2003 Sundogg99

Recommended: Yes

Best Suited For: Families
Best Time to Travel Here: Sep - Nov