Change in an Estonian resort

www.elsevier.com/locate/atoures

Annals of Tourism Research, Vol. 30, No. 2, pp. 369–385, 2003  2003 Elsevier Science Ltd. All rights reserved Printed in Great Britain 0160-7383/03/$30.00

doi:10.1016/S0160-7383(02)00105-6

CHANGE IN AN ESTONIAN RESORT Contrasting Development Contexts Barry Worthington Abertay University, UK Abstract: The development of Pa¨rnu is examined through an historical narrative, suggested by the concept of “transitional pathway analysis”, making a contribution to tourism studies in the former Soviet bloc and the function of tourism in post-communist transitional economies. The importance of location and transport networks, the influence of the Russian hinterland and the Scandinavian regional market, the evolution of the Soviet domestic tourism market, the appearance of a new managerial elite, and the significance of the political, cultural, and economic developments are stressed. Two subtexts are suggested: the impact of external factors on the crucial service sector in transition economies and the nature of Western assistance. Keywords: Estonia, Pa¨rnu, Soviet, mudbaths, history, development, transition.  2003 Elsevier Science Ltd. All rights reserved. Re´sume´: Le changement dans une station balne´ire estonienne: contextes contraste´s de de´veloppement. Le de´veloppement de Parnu¨ est examine´ a` travers une narration historique sugge´re´e par la notion de
l’analyse du chemin de transition afin de contribuer aux e´tudes du tourisme en ancienne Union Sovie´tique et de la fonction du tourisme dans les e´conomies transitionnelles post-communistes. L’importance de l’endroit et des re´seaux de transport, l’influence de l’arrie`re-pays russe et du marche´ re´gional scandinave, l’e´volution du marche´ du tourisme inte´rieur sovie´tique, l’ave`nement d’une nouvelle e´lite de gestion et l’importance du de´velopement de la vie politique, culturelle et e´conomique. On sugge`re deux sujets sous-jacents: l’impact des facteurs exte´rieurs sur le secteur crucial du service dans les e´conomies de transition et la nature de l’aide occidentale. Mots-cle´s: Estonie, Parnu¨, Soviet, bains de boue, histoire, de´veloppement, transition.  2003 Elsevier Science Ltd. All rights reserved.

INTRODUCTION This article is concerned with the development of the Estonian seaside resort of Pa¨rnu. It embraces two unfashionable approaches to tourism research. In the first place, it is about a neglected area: the former communist bloc. Existing studies in this field tend to be either outline surveys of regional tourism resources (Hay 2001), or deal with the area within the context of international tourism (Johnson 1995). Other studies focus upon particular aspects of post-communist tourism, such as the impact of foreign tourists (Cooper and Morpeth 1998)

Barry Worthington is currently Tourism Research Fellow at Abertay University (Graham Building, Dundee, United Kingdom. Email ). He has researched and traveled in Estonia and undertaken voluntary work for the national tourism board. Research interests include the role of tourism in post-communist transitional economies, public transport and tourism, and aspects of tourism development relating to urban and heritage environments. 369

370

RESORT DEVELOPMENT

or planning issues (Kruczala 1990). In contrast, several have lamented the paucity of analytical studies of the evolution of tourism in these economies (Jaakson 1996), particularly with regard to post-communist transition pathways (Williams and Balaz 2001). A major case study of the Czech Republic (Williams and Balaz 2000) appears to be one of the few exceptions. Indeed, Hall’s (1991) pioneering work on the function of tourism in transitional post-communist economies remains the principal starting point for ventures in this direction. Secondly, the adoption of a chronological approach, let alone a “narrative”, is anathema to many. Yet the article utilizes the narrative structure as a framework on which to hang a number of explorations of neglected themes and issues appertaining to the history and development of tourism in Estonia. But why adopt a historical approach? This reflects the growing cleavage among students of post-communist transition. The prescriptive approach of “transitology”, as epitomized by Jeffrey Sachs—which saw the whole of the former Soviet bloc as a tabula rasa upon which macroeconomic policies might be imposed—has been largely discredited (though not, as yet, among many of the international agencies). Instead, a growing number of scholars now stress the importance of historical approaches in determining the nature of the “transitional pathway” of post-communist economies (Pickles and Smith 1998; Sachs 1990). As tourism (along with the rest of the service sector) played such a crucial role in the first phase of transition in Estonia, a case study of its historical development will not be out of place. Consequently, the story of the seaside resort of Pa¨ rnu goes to the heart of the current transition pathway. A study of Pa¨ rnu might thus shed some light upon these issues, and in so doing will hopefully explode a number of myths. It will assert that tourism (both foreign and domestic) in Tsarist Russia was of some consequence in developing resorts and infrastructure, and establishing a hinterland for the market that remains an issue to this day. It will also suggest that the period of inter-war independence evolved a product of some sophistication, with facilities that could rival the best that Western Europe could offer, together with a new Scandinavian market which laid the foundations of today’s regional foreign market. Domestic tourism in the Soviet Union will appear not as a monolith, but an industry evolving in response to social change. In this context, many of the developments in the perestroika era and after were prefigured. Consequently, the immediate roots of transition can be sought in these developments, and the determinants of the present evolutionary pathway may be outlined. These narrative themes will hopefully contribute to the ongoing debate concerning the nature of this transition process. ¨ RNU THE HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF PA Tourism in Tsarist Russia is often regarded as a historical footnote. But it is often forgotten that Russia was a small but growing foreign destination in the period before 1914, and that Baedeker had marked its future potential as a destination by publishing an English language

BARRY WORTHINGTON

371

edition of their Russia guide in that fateful year (Baedeker 1914). Much of this success depended upon facilities and infrastructure created by a large domestic market. However, the development of Russian domestic tourism is comparatively unknown. Estonia and the Baltic region were well to the fore in these domestic developments. Estland (as it was then called) constituted, with the rest of the Baltic provinces and Finland, the most Westernized part of the Tsar’s dominions. The traditional Russian cultural conflict between “Westerners” and “Slavophiles” was meaningless in the Baltic context. Consequently, the province was open to new ideas and embraced industrialization and economic expansion in the second half of the 19th century. This created a new native middle class, and the consequence was a cultural and national revival. Subsequent developments reflected these economic and social changes (Lieven 1993). Domestic tourism in the Baltic Provinces was largely associated with sea bathing, and was probably German in origin (the custom was firmly established in the first half of the 19th century). The climate dictated that July was the month when society “flies to the seashore and builds bathing huts on the strand” (Kohl 1842). Cabins were rented from peasants for bathing use, and the most frequented resorts attracted German bands and itinerant ballad singers from Riga. The season always finished on August 1, when the custom was to throw coins into the sea after the last bath (Anonymous 1841; Kohl 1842). However, it required another ingredient—mud—to turn this phenomenon into something more substantial. The importance of this Baltic commodity is usually credited to the inspiration of Carl Abraham Hunnius (1797–1851), a Baltic German doctor (Aaulitz-Niedecht 1992). His initiative resulted in the opening of the first mud bath in 1825, which launched the growth of Habsal (Haapsalu 1995) as a popular resort. The mud cure became very popular with the Russian nobility of the imperial capital, including the court and the Royal Family (Schlossman 1939). This coincided with the advent of the railway system. However, Hungerburg (Narva-Joesu), about five miles from Narva, appears to be the only example of an Estonian resort created by the railway (Schlossman 1939). Other seaside developments depended upon the introduction of steamboat services. A regular summer service of steam ships between St. Petersburg and Habsal (Haapsalu) started as early as 1845 (Haapsalu Municipality 1995). Consequently, tourists also began to arrive at Pa¨ rnu by steamboat from Riga. In point of fact, Pernau (Pa¨ rnu) best illustrates the degree of local development and sophistication obtained before 1914. Pa¨ rnu entered the 19th century as a decayed former Hanseatic seaport and a fortress of the second rank. Influenced by developments elsewhere in the Baltics, and conscious of the convenient position of the town in relation to the growing city of Riga, a group of local businessmen persuaded the town council to allow them to convert a seaside tavern into a bathing establishment. The new enterprise opened in 1838, and encouraged the spread of sea bathing from both fixed and horse drawn huts, catering for the local gentry. The “cure” was popularized by the writings of F. Goebel, chemistry professor at the Univer-

372

RESORT DEVELOPMENT

sity of Dorpat, in Das Seebad bei Pernau an der Ostsee. About 154 tourists were recorded in 1844, gathering at the “salon” in Vana Park to dance, read, play billiards, or listen to the band (Aller 1977). This small beginning was the inspiration for the enterprise of Oskar Brackmann (1841–1927), who became Mayor in 1878. He persuaded the municipality to create a committee to plan the development of the mud baths, which were taken over by the town in 1889. The new establishment opened the following year when 3,390 baths were taken. In the meantime, Brackmann engaged the famous director of the Riga city parks, G. Kuphaldt, to design the Rannapark, situated between the mud baths and the town. Despite difficult sandy subsoil, the first trees were planted in 1882. The park and the beach were approached by Supeluse, or “Bathing Street”, which was soon populated by wooden villas with balconies. These were owned by local people who lived off the rents received during the season (Reiser Travel Agency 1994– 1995). The Rannapark was intended for the well to do. The working class were not officially excluded, but the municipality took care to open a new park (with a dance floor) for “people of lower standard” to attract them away from the company of their social betters (Aller 1977) These early developments were based upon a clientele arriving by sea. The advent of railway communication added to the already substantial growth. The land approach from Tallinn was problematic, owing to the lack of a suitable river crossing. The natural hinterland was thus present day Latvia. This problem was resolved by the advent of the First Company of Secondary Lines (usually referred to as the Supply Railways), which opened their first section of line in 1896 (de Pater and Page 1987). The intention was to create a network of 760 mm narrow - gauge railways, feeding goods and passengers to the existing railway network, and thus open up isolated parts of Estonia and Latvia. This first section ran from Pernau to Valga (on the Riga and Pskov broad gauge line), via Moisakule. The narrow-gauge system soon connected Pernau with Reval (Tallinn), albeit by a roundabout route via Moisakule and Fellin (Viljandi). The impact of this development was enormous. Summer accommodation spread eastwards from the Rannapark Municipal regulations ensured that the owner of a new plot had to build at least one villa within two years and prohibited office or business use. A beach salon, including a restaurant, opened in 1899, with a fine outdoor bandstand at the rear (Reiser Travel Agency 1994–1995). By 1900, the baths had been rebuilt and extended, and the number of baths taken doubled to 12,000 per annum. Cycling tracks, tennis courts, and a bowling alley made their appearance. The resort could boast 3,000 summer tourists in 1910, including many Russians from further afield than the Baltic Provinces. Brackman was honored, as might be expected, with a statue (Aller 1977). Three themes stand out in connection with these developments. As in other cases, the development of the town as a destination depended upon major transport developments overcoming difficulties caused by local topography. The narrow gauge railway placed the town in direct connection with major travel routes and changed the origin of the

BARRY WORTHINGTON

373

clientele from Riga to St. Petersburg and the wider Russian hinterland. Next, the initiative, sophistication, and entrepreneurship demonstrated by Brackman and his associates contradicts the orthodox Western view of the Russian economy and society at this time. The conventional picture is dominated by industrialization resulting from foreign investment and know-how. Yet, in the Baltic provinces, examples of indigenous entrepreneurial behavior can be found, particularly in tourism. Of course, the Baltics were not typical of the Tsarist Empire. After all, the majority of the intelligentsia, landowners, and middle class, both Balt and German, thought of themselves as Western European. They looked westwards for inspiration. However, the pattern of tourism was not Western. Although some such tourists visited, it was quite clear that the early development of the resort was based on the population of the Baltic provinces and the large Russian hinterland. To a great extent, the town’s infrastructure had been sustained and expanded by this market, which replicated the rest of the area (the importance of the Russian hinterland as a continuous theme was thus established). Inter-War Developments The First World War revolutionized the context. The creation of the Soviet Union eliminated the vast Russian market. Domestic tourism from within the newly established Baltic States could not possibly sustain the infrastructure created before 1914. But the industry did not wither upon the vine. Instead, it found a new market to replace the old one. Tourism began to revive after the war in an independent Estonia. It was a hard struggle to overcome the damage inflicted during the war and reach the level attained in 1914. In Pa¨ rnu, for example, the Rannapark had to be restored, and a new mud bath constructed. The town council decided that tourism was the best source of income in the short-term and fruitlessly lobbied the state assembly for funds to reopen the resort. Consequently, the beach was restored purely through local efforts, and 1,000 foreign tourists welcomed in 1924, the year that construction of the new mud baths began. It opened in July 1927 and was extended in 1930 and again in 1936. A municipal resort tax was introduced to help finance these developments (Aller 1977). Although the new government gave little direct help, a state program designed to improve internal communications assisted the revival. The narrow-gauge railway system was extended, including the opening of a line from Lelle, on the old Fellin Railway, to a junction on the Valga– Pa¨ rnu railway, just to the east of Pa¨ rnu, in 1928 (Quail Map Company 1993). This gave the resort a more direct rail link to Tallinn. A new bridge across the river and improvements to the highways created a first class motor road to the capital. But all this does not really explain what really lay behind a palpable revival in the town’s fortunes. The reason was simple: the industry was suddenly in full pursuit of a new foreign market. A new class of wealthy tourists was obviously needed to fill the gap resulting from the loss of the pre-war Russian market. Two factors

374

RESORT DEVELOPMENT

brought about the desired result. In the first place, financial conditions caused by the post-1929 international situation ensured that Estonia was one of the cheapest destinations in Europe, a fact much emphasized in the tourist literature of the time. Hotels and restaurants were cheap throughout the country. Swedes paid the equivalent of two guineas (£2 2shillings) a week en pension at Pa¨ rnu during the season. This was less than the weekly wage paid to a British railway worker based in London during the 1930s (Keesing 1940). Second, external communications were now more direct, as Tallinn was well connected with Scandinavia. Finland Line steamers operated between Helsinki and Tallinn, and Stettin and Tallinn. Another company operated between Stockholm and Tallinn weekly, the voyage lasting 20 hours (Altro 1933). In addition, new routes were forged with Britain and Western Europe. The United Baltic Company maintained a fortnightly steamer service from London Bridge via the Kiel Canal and Stettin to Tallinn in five or six days (Photo-Davikos 1935). Railway communication had been re-established with the West by a convention signed between the railways of Germany, Latvia, and Lithuania at Riga in 1921 (Railway Gazette 1921). German and Polish passenger express trains could run direct to Riga without a break of gauge. Latvian State Railways opened a new line between Riga and Rujiena, where a connection with the narrow gauge line to Pa¨ rnu could be made via Moisakule (Quail Map Company 1993). Good statistics for tourists were available for 1939, and the numbers of foreign arrivals are indicated here in parenthesis. Pa¨ rnu, by now the premier resort for the foreign tourist, boasted 8,124 (4,592) guests, Narva-Joessu 8,055 (977), Haapsalu 3,667 (932), and Kuresaare 2082 (394) (Aun 1994). There is no doubt that the new foreign market in Estonia was largely Scandinavian in origin, with up to 60% originating from Sweden by 1939. It was expected that 8,000 Swedes would visit Estonia in the summer of 1937, and it was noticed that Poles were starting to appear on the beaches. A Pa¨ rnu ship-building firm proposed diversifying into building a large modern hotel for foreign tourists, including increasing numbers of Swedes. The H.P. Schmidt Agency (the operator of the Tallinn–Stockholm service) opened the Hotel Vasa in 1938, which was marketed in the Swedish press and brought in numbers of holidaymakers. Pa¨ rnu was well patronized by large numbers of Finns and Swedes in the period immediately before the war (Aun 1994). In this last year of independence, the industry was most concerned about extending the average stay, and marketing excursions around the rest of the country. It supported seven travel agencies, 372 “hoteltype” buildings, and 5,538 beds (1,967 in countryside locations) (Arnold Ruutel Commission 1991). In Pa¨ rnu, the Rannahotel, completed in 1937 (in the latest “art deco” style) from designs by A. Soans and the town architect O. Siinma, was in its third season. Siinma was also responsible for the new Rannahoone beach complex. Its novel mushroom shaped stairway led to tables overlooking the sea (Aller 1977). The pre-war foreign tourists to Pa¨ rnu thus reflected the creation of

BARRY WORTHINGTON

375

what would come to be a tourism dilemma. The creation of a regional Scandinavian market, in counterpoint to the traditional Russian hinterland, established a second marketing issue. Was the destination to be a purely Scandinavian regional tourism market, or a captive of the Russian hinterland? However, the development of the town in this period is also important as a possible determinant of the present “transition pathway”, along with other cultural, political, and economic “baggage” (Pickles and Smith 1998). From the middle of the last century to 1940, the tourism industry was created by private enterprise, involving considerable entrepreneurial flair. Even the efforts of the municipalities might be described as entrepreneurial. The creativity shown by the inhabitants of the local communities is a constant theme in these years. Now some might argue that this state of affairs carried on into a period within living memory, creating a tradition that was rediscovered in the last years of the Soviet occupation. Indeed, after independence was regained, it was not necessary to re-invent Estonian tourism. Not only did the infrastructure already exist, but also an inspiration fostered by the growing interest in the recent past. Such claims have been made in connection with the economies and societies of some Central and Eastern European states, and it is an assertion that is difficult to prove. Nevertheless, the issue of “the persistence of memory” may prove to be a major factor in the “transition pathway”. The Soviet Era The development of foreign tourism in the Soviet Union might be a neglected topic, but at least the outlines are reasonably established. In contrast, the development of domestic tourism and the associated infrastructure remain terra incognita. The greatest influence upon its organization was the Leninist concept of industrial organization, largely derived from F. W. Taylor, the father of “work study”, and the guiding light of Henry Ford. Functional specialization and the measurement of time and performance standards (which became the famous “norms”) were crucial (Goldberg 1992), and Academician M.Y. Lemeshov could suggest that an additional six million roubles per annum in income were created by properly resourced mass recreation (Karing 1989). Similarly, organized “recreation” implied the adoption of the concept of “functional specialization”. Although this was designed to increase productivity and efficiency, it also led to certain social and political consequences in what was rapidly becoming a totalitarian state. The individual employee operated on a “need to know” principle, so power was centralized in a political leader or “politruk”, facilitating a system of social control of the workforce (Goldberg 1992). Consequently, the management of an enterprise was diffused between various bodies, answerable to their own separate hierarchies. Strategic decisions came about through coordination by various ad-hoc agencies at a high level, assisted by the Communist Party Branch. Independent

376

RESORT DEVELOPMENT

enterprises, able to act on their own initiative and operating within their own budgets, were completely unknown. As Stalin developed this ethos, his regime soon absorbed the previously independent area of recreation and domestic tourism into a state network. Existing organizations were amalgamated into the All Union Voluntary Society for Proletarian Tourism and Excursions in 1930. As the Trade Unions had begun to organize holiday excursions as part of their social welfare responsibilities, the Society was absorbed into the Tourist and Excursion Administration of the All Union Central Council of Trade Unions in 1936. The clientele under this system were selected by their union branch and sent to particular institutions or locations (the Baltic resorts being preferred next to the sought after Black Sea destinations). Except for local recreational facilities and short day excursions, individual tourism within the Soviet Union was practically impossible at this stage (Sovetskaia Publishing House 1977). The local impact of the new system was considerable. Estonia had the recreational and health resources most desired by the trade unions, including beaches, seaside resorts, hotels, and sanatoria with mud baths, equal to any in Western Europe. Thus, after 1945, Pa¨ rnu began a new lease of life as a Soviet resort, and the infrastructure began to expand. The public were informed that the “Rannahotel will no longer exist as a guest house but will be turned into a worker’s rest home”, while the “bathing establishment remains but will be nationalized” (Aller 1977). The post-war additions included a hotel, boarding house, a miners’ nursing home, an indoor swimming pool, and a sports stadium (Grodinski 1967). However, true to the “politruk” principle, the organization of the recreation “industry” was not part of any coordinated local plan in the charge of the appropriate Trade Union Committee. Individual trade unions built and owned their own sanatoria and holiday centers, as did large industrial enterprises and state ministries. Some hotels were owned by the local Soviet (municipal authority) or built by a particular economic interest, such as the Hotel Tallinn in the Estonian capital, which was intended to house visiting delegations of collective farmers (Saar 1993). Therefore, the All-Union Central Council of Trade Unions allocated surplus rooms, and the railway administration provided the necessary transport to and from the resorts, while the Municipal Soviets were concerned with the management of tourism assets, such as museums, parks, and gardens. Some municipal hotels and guesthouses were placed at the disposal of the state tourism organizations from time to time, and a bureau would be operated for the benefit of the trade union domestic tourism body. Otherwise, the local administrations had little to do with tourism in general. There was no local tradition or experience of participation in development, planning, or even marketing. The conventional view tends to see the Soviet system as an unchanging monolith, though nothing could be further from the truth. Change did occur, and such change laid the foundations for perestroika. The onset of the post-Stalin “thaw” under Khrushchev led to a number of structural reforms which were designed to promote a more individual

BARRY WORTHINGTON

377

and less group-oriented form of domestic tourism. An increasing standard of living, and consequent rising expectations on the part of the Soviet people, constituted the background to a significant period of social change that affected all areas of life. Although the ensuing changes in Soviet domestic tourism must be seen in terms of the social and political context of the time, one cannot help thinking that the old centralized coordinating system had started to break down as the demands placed upon it increased. In 1962, the old Central Council was revamped as the Central Council for Tourism (Hall 1991). It retained its overall coordinating function, but it was now charged to cater for a new breed of individual tourists by setting up a network of tourism and excursion bureaus in towns and cities, and to popularize a series of approved routes and tours. It also undertook marketing and publicity functions by producing tourist literature, which was often distributed through “tourist clubs” in towns and at places of work. Crucially, control was devolved to autonomous Tourism Councils in the Soviet Republics and Autonomous Regions from 1965 (Sovetskaia Publishing House 1977). Thus, Estonia assumed the responsibilities for the development of domestic tourism within the Republic. In this context, the absurdities inherent in the system came to the fore, and were demonstrated in situations in which hostels struggled to pay for themselves while separate catering facilities within them made a profit for another organization. The lesson was apparent: “Tourism can achieve economic effectiveness only if the sum total of factors is taken into consideration” (Isvestia 1973:5) A proposal for large-scale autonomous tourism firms was floated in 1972, for “such enterprises do not actually exist in the sense of a collective that has a stake in the work and sufficient rights and responsibilities to carry out this work”. In contrast to the bureaucratic jungle, a Soviet magazine article was inspired by innovations: I became acquainted with an interesting institution in Pa¨ rnu.... sixteen Estonian collective farms and several state farms and other organizations had pooled their funds for cultural and everyday improvements and built a sanatorium. Rooms are allotted to employees of the organizations in proportion to each organizations’ investment (Literaturnaya Gazeta 1972:10).

The development of the Sputnik holiday center in Rostov Velikii was also held up as a concrete example of what could be achieved. “The design.,” it was stated, “... is based on the distinctive principle of single management for all the advertising and representation agencies”. The same organization would distribute passes and take bookings. The latter would be divided into classes depending upon types of services on offer, with sliding rates according to the season. An annual deduction from profits was intended for further expansion and a contribution to the municipal budget (Isvestia July 1973:5). The Estonian SSR obtained its first tourism budget in 1973, the Tourism Council making an annual contribution of 10% levy on profits. This was channeled into the improvement of facilities, including the restoration of cultural monuments (Isvestia 1973:5). This move

378

RESORT DEVELOPMENT

enabled some rudimentary planning to be undertaken by the Republic and the Municipalities, but also increased the degree of autonomy within the Republics themselves. These new developments in the organization of domestic tourism resulted in qualitative changes within Estonia. A Corrective General Plan for Pa¨ rnu was produced in 1973 to zone the municipality between resort and industrial areas (Aller 1977). A delimited “public health zone” protected the beach, whereby only service industries were permitted and vehicles were restricted. The coastal area as far as Ikla was designated for recreational purposes. Planned developments included a seven- story hotel with a restaurant; a new theatre to replace the famous Endla (destroyed in the war); the redevelopment of the old moat as a landscaped park; and a wide screen cinema, all largely completed by 1990 (Grodinski 1967). Outside the town, tourism centers were planned along the coast at Valgevanna, and elsewhere between Reiu and Uulu, which would cater for those arriving by car (Aller 1977). Administrative reform was accompanied by changes in the mindset of sections of the elite, which were accelerated by the Gorbachev reforms. A new generation, associated with the Komsomol (Young Communist League) organization, began to appear around the 1980s—it later metamorphosed into 17% of the Russian business elite (Isvestia 1994). These people had the network connections and a freemasonry of their own which was to prove invaluable in eventually building business empires. Thus, in Pa¨ rnu, privatization was not a major issue in the first phase of transition, at least in the service sector. Municipalities and other bodies showed a surprising degree of flexibility in leasing tourism assets to Estonian entrepreneurs and foreign partners. This was only possible in a situation where particular groups of local people, with a shared background and aims, occupied middle management positions in what were still supposed to be communist institutions. This could be accomplished in the dying days of the Soviet empire because Estonia was an SSR. It had adopted an active program of economic autonomy, and in many cases decided to ignore decrees from Moscow (Terk 1995). It did not enforce, for example, the prohibitions upon the new cooperatives working for foreign tour companies; it commenced a limited program of privatization in the service sector (where enterprises such as shops were municipally owned), and actively encouraged the participation of foreign partners in the economy. Independence Regained Estonia regained its independence in August 1991. This annus mirabilis in the national sense proved to be a disaster for the resort of Pa¨ rnu. The large Russian market collapsed within a very short period. Economic and political uncertainty (together with the introduction of a visa regime) impacted against both individual and group tourism from the Russian hinterland. The latter effectively ceased to exist, as the old trade union and its institutions became moribund or were transformed into other types of organizations.

BARRY WORTHINGTON

379

Attention turned to the possibilities of the Scandinavian market. Of course, all the old Soviet restrictions upon foreign tourism in the area had disappeared, and this included the island of Saaremaa, to which Pa¨ rnu might be seen as a gateway. Here the “persistence of memory” might be seen as an important factor, especially among the Finns. This part of Estonia had been celebrated in the singing of Georg Otts, and most Finns of the older generation knew the “Saaremaa Waltz”. Transport developments assisted this, for as far back as 1965, the Soviets had developed ferry traffic between Helsinki and Tallinn in a pursuit of hard currency. Although Tallinn (with its growing daytripper traffic) continued to characterize tourism in this new era, significant numbers of Finns and other foreign tourists began to arrive in Pa¨ rnu. The Via Baltica (a road upgrading project passing through the town) generated this traffic. A creation of Finnish interests, particularly the Neste oil company, the project largely remains a concept. But successful marketing throughout Scandinavia and Germany has resulted in increasing traffic (Via Baltica News Limited 1994). Lastly, the perceptions of the Western tourist and tour operator have revolutionized Baltic tourism. The Baltic States were seen as a “package” and the popularity of the “Pan Baltic Tour” took local travel companies by surprise. They responded to this consumer-driven development with some alacrity, and Pa¨ rnu became a passing place for the majority of tour coaches. Some parties use the town as a stopover, while others include it in their holiday package. Of course, independent travelers, utilizing the “Via Baltica”, also use Pa¨ rnu as a stopover, or as a base for exploring the local islands. Although the changing context might offer opportunities to be grasped, much depended upon the response by the resort and its local decision-makers. In the first instance, the municipality did what it could to preserve its own faltering position. The mayor had confided in a newspaper interview, in the spring of 1990, that other world resorts made huge profits, whereas Pa¨ rnu used millions of roubles in state subsidies, thanks to poor management in the Soviet planned economy. In fact, despite limited planning reforms in the Soviet era, the resort was now best known for a polluted river and sea. There was no waste purification plant, and people were being advised not to swim in the summer of 1989. The only hope for improvement lay in privatization and foreign investment; but, as a short-term measure, a tourist tax of five roubles per adult tourist was instituted on 1 May 1990 (Estonian Independent 1990). At municipal level, Estonians had criticized the lack of coordination in tourism development and stressed the necessity for strategic decisions as early as 1989 (Karing 1989). The new elite began to address such matters, utilizing town-twinning arrangements and fraternal delegations to generate aid schemes (largely Scandinavian in origin). Tiit Kask constitutes the classic case study of the tangled origins of regeneration. In 1989, he attended a course in hotel and tourism management, tourism issues, and regional tourism development at a consultancy at Dublin, part of an agreement between Borde Failte and the Soviet Government. Tiit Kask, then a school director, already

380

RESORT DEVELOPMENT

had experience with students in the areas of local history and heritage. Upon returning, he wrote a paper outlining development proposals for the resort. The District Executive obtained funding from local collective farms, probably aided by family contacts. He was able to set up the Town Development Center in 1990. Realizing that education was the key, the municipality was persuaded to plan a Business School, opening in 1991. This was accomplished within the context of the alternative education movement, part of the Estonian Heritage Society’s attempt to reconstitute civil society on the basis of pre-war traditions and memories. The school hosted a visit by a professor of Tourism and Hospitality at Seneca College, Ontario. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen as dedicated and committed a group of students in the west. They wring us dry” (Baltic Independent 1992). Administrative changes closed the Town Development Center, but the economic situation in the town and county soon resurrected it as the Pa¨ rnu Tourism Development Center. A wholly owned municipal company, it was registered in April 1992, with a brief embracing the whole county. The organization saw its main function as creating a partnership with the new private sector, and consequently decided not to engage in any commercial activity, so as to mitigate potential suspicion on the part of possible partners by maintaining a strictly neutral position. It took over some of the former municipal staff of the Town Development Center, but continued to experience conflicts with the old municipal departments responsible for the infrastructure who were “Soviet” in their working cultures and approached tourism “in a passive way”. Indeed, like other municipalities, Pa¨ rnu had been engaged in a struggle to hold on to its tourism infrastructure. The rump of the trade union movement (through the semi-defunct Estonian Tourism Council, which still had some sort of official status) inherited complete control of a number of hotels, sanatoria, and other facilities. Initially, they decided to operate them as commercial enterprises, although the organization lacked the necessary capital and some of the marketing and management skills that this decision required. Consequently, a number of the assets were sold off by private agreement in order to make a quick profit. This practice alarmed the municipalities already responsible for the privatization of other local retail and service sector property. As a result, the town led the way in lobbying the government to prevent such unauthorized sales, and return the remaining assets to local authority control. Discussions with the appropriate ministers and the remains of the Tourism Council took place in 1992, and some properties were restituted shortly afterwards. The remaining tourism assets were returned by the end of 1994. Municipal properties were either privatized, or developed in association with suitable business partners. The shops were offered for sale outright (with the existing management having first refusal). As often as not, Estonians fronted for a foreign partner with the necessary capital. The individual hotels were privatized later, but in some cases, the municipality shortcircuited the process by utilizing the vehicle of a municipal company

BARRY WORTHINGTON

381

to form joint ventures with foreign investors. In this way, the superb Rannahotel was restored to its former glory in a short time. The center concentrated upon three projects. First, after some effort, a “blue flag” was awarded to the Pa¨ rnu Yacht Club in 1994, in recognition of quality of service and environmental concern. Second, cruise traffic developed through an arrangement with Kristina Cruises. Third, a Tourist Information Center opened in October, 1994 (Pa¨ rnu Tourism Development Center 1996). Training and developing particular skills among the local population, through workshops and seminars, were added, along with a general responsibility for assisting the development of education, culture, and sport in the town and the county. The center also concerned itself with the future development of the product. A SWOT (Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, and Threats) analysis of the market product had been undertaken to determine tourism development priorities. These were identified as the problems of seasonality, regionality, and zoning. The former resulted in the organization of a series of festivals, cultural events, and conferences. International conferences, in particular, were placed in the hands of a Conference Tourism Team, working in cooperation with the Business School. It was intended to eventually hive off this function, as the center saw its role as devising and developing projects that could be taken over by other bodies. The true significance of the center, however, lay in its proactive method of working. A principal aim appeared to be locating potential businesspeople who might create or invest in tourism developments, in a similar manner to an English development corporation. The philosophy of the center involved the creation of “packages” to interest potential partners, which might then be hived off as independent commercial projects. This strategy was said to be successful. The approach inevitably required a considerable input in the form of consultancy. The center possessed the authority from the municipality to set up projects on a legal basis, could supply all the necessary information, and could advise on product development. Its growing reputation began to attract a variety of enquiries, and the Eesti Express newspaper attempted to purchase the database for use in their telephone “hotline service”. The center also began to mediate with travel companies and undertake feasibility studies. Nevertheless, the time was not considered appropriate for a detailed strategic development plan. This may be ascribed to uncertainty about the financial and administrative future. But there may have been a more profound reason for this omission. The planning decisions made by the center in the immediate short-term cannot be faulted. However, they were reactive, rooted in an essentially practical appreciation of existing development problems. The missing factor appeared to be a deficit in tourism theory and analytical techniques that would enable strategic decisions to be made in the long-term. This was reflected in the curriculum at Pa¨ rnu College, which eschewed such concepts as the tourism multiplier and sustainability. The Tourism Development Center proved to be a transitory response at a critical period of transition, but its legacy was profound. The college is now a prestigious

382

RESORT DEVELOPMENT

faculty of the University of Tartu, and the Estonian Tourist Board has largely absorbed the center’s tourism information functions. More to the point, the Business Development Center of Pa¨ rnu County has seemingly adopted the center’s proactive approach to development. The destination, according to the Pa¨ rnu Tourism Development Center (1996) has achieved what appears to be an optimum figure of around 300,000 tourists per year, in the period from 1997 to 1999. This may be compared with a grand total of 2,328,000 arrivals in Tallinn in 1999, indicating the dominance of the capital in the Estonian tourism market. But, if 1, 561,000 Finnish daytrippers are abstracted from this total, a slightly more realistic figure emerges. Just over 750,000 actually stayed in Tallinn, or passed through. It is estimated that about 90,000 foreign tourists a year frequent Pa¨ rnu. About 50,000 of these are Finns, followed by 7,200 Swedes, 4,500 Russians, 2,700 Americans, and approximately 17,100 of other nationalities. The Russian contingent is interesting, given the current visa requirements and the state of the Russian economy. CONCLUSION The conventional approach to transition in Central and Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union (in any area of study, including tourism development) is now seen as a sterile exercise. One cannot treat such countries and regions as a blank canvas. Consequently, following in the tradition of “transition pathway” analysis, this article has attempted to outline the determinants of post-communist transition in the case of Pa¨ rnu. Or, rather, it has charted the interaction of these determinants with a variety of external influences at different periods of history, noting the persistence of particular issues, and suggesting that the experience of transition must be judged within the context of this historical continuum. In the first instance, the resort, in common with resorts elsewhere, owes its development to changes in transport networks. From steamship operations in the Gulf of Riga, through railway developments that placed it within the tourism mainstream in the Baltics and Russia, to the Via Baltica in the post independence period, these all have impacted upon the evolution of the town. However, there is an important subtext to this commonplace that requires further consideration. One often neglects the important consideration that it is not infrastructure in itself that is important, but the way in which it is used. That is determined by external factors that often have nothing to do with tourism. In this case, one might consider a Russian railway policy seeking to open up new areas for economic development, the impact of political changes upon existing networks, and the differing agendas of major transport operators. Next, one must consider the significance of strategic position, both in relation to cost differentials and the principal markets. This low cost destination has tended to benefit from proximity to a large, comparatively wealthy region when political considerations permitted it. Thus, this “transitional pathway” embraces the element of two markets, oscil-

BARRY WORTHINGTON

383

lating between them. Twice, the Scandinavian market has restored the town’s fortunes, and twice the Russian hinterland has been eclipsed. Perhaps the future membership of the European Union and the political and cultural identification with the continent will lay the foundations for a wider regional tourism market. It is also possible that the Russian market may revive. Clearly, the town could survive and prosper without a large Russian market, but it would be unwise to neglect longterm possibilities. Identification with the West is a dominant historical theme, as the transition pathway is substantially different from the rest of the former Soviet Union because of this. The phenomenon of “persistence of memory”, by which the pre-war traditions and ways of thinking were still alive, can be seen in the growth of the Estonian Heritage Society from about 1985, and the movement to restore civil society. It is clearly visible in the ease with which traditional patterns and flows reestablished themselves here. It animated the desire for economic autonomy and permitted developments in the Gorbachev era that were not possible in other parts of the Soviet Union. In any case, the old Soviet Union was not a monolith for it contained a variety of evolving ideas and developments. The domestic tourism industry evolved with it, for new ideas relating to its organization began to emerge, and impacted upon the resort. Rudimentary reforms and new methods of operation began to appear, constituting foundations that could be built upon at a later date. Lastly, a new generation had appeared, ready to experiment and put new policies into operation. The work of Tiit Kask and his circle at Pa¨ rnu is only one example of many. The nature of this “transition pathway” resulted in it being particularly receptive to Western advice and assistance. This was a crucial factor, but it also suggests another subtext. In many ways, Western assistance proved to be the catalyst for much of the post-independence tourism development. However, it was not balanced. There were omissions, particularly in the area of tourism theory, and it will be interesting to see how the resort evolves policies relating to strategic marketing and tourism sustainability. In attempting to depict Pa¨ rnu’s pathway of tourism development through the device of a historical narrative, it is hoped that the veil will have been lifted a little, and that some contribution will have been made to tourism studies in this part of Europe. In particular, perhaps the background to the function of tourism in post-communist transition might have been clarified a little, and the importance of historA icity truly stressed.왎 Acknowledgements—A large part of this article is based upon research conducted in Estonia in general, and Pa¨ rnu in particular, from 1992 to date. In particular, the author would like to thank Tiit Kask (then Deputy Mayor of Pa¨ rnu), Tiina Kiibus (then Head of the Pa¨ rnu Tourism Development Center), Mehis Helme (an Estonian railway historian), Juri Raag of Maardi Travel, En Noorkov of Raetourist, Riina Miuisepp (Director of Pa¨ rnu Business College), and the staff of Pa¨ rnu Municipal Library and Pa¨ rnu Municipal Museum. Current statistics were obtained from Pa¨ rnu municipality.

384

RESORT DEVELOPMENT

REFERENCES Aaulittz-Niedecht, A. 1992 Haapsalu-Nohjamaade Venestsia. Haapsalu: Reprinted Anonymously. Aller, R. 1977 Pa¨ rnu. Tallinn: Periodika Publishing Company. Altro, T. 1933 A Guide of Narva, Narva-Jo´ esu, and Briefly of Estonia for the Use of Tourists and Holiday Seekers (Brochure). Narva: Juht Opas. Anonymous 1841 A Residence on the Shores of the Baltic. Described in a Series of Letters (two volumes). London: John Murray. Arnold Ru¨ u¨ tel Commission 1991 World War II and Soviet Occupation in Estonia: A Damage Report. Tallin: Arnold Ru¨u¨ tel Commission. Aun, C. 1994 Appendix of Translations of Pre-war Estonian Newspapers. In Estonia: Economic Developments and Tourism Opportunities. Montreal: Unpublished paper presented at the “Global Classroom International Conference on Educational Travel”. Baedeker, K. 1914 Handbook for Russia (English ed.). Leipzig: Karl Baedeker. Baltic Independent 1992 Baltic Independent (July 17–23):5. Cooper, C., and N. Morpeth 1998 The Impact of Tourism on Residential Experience in Central-Eastern Europe. Urban studies 35(12):2255–2275. de Pater, A., and F. Page 1987 The Railway Locomotives of Russia, (Vol.1) Sutton Coldfield: Retrieval Press. Estonian Independent 1990 Estonian Independent (May 2):5. Goldberg, W. 1992 The Rocky Road from a Command Economy to a Market Economy. Technological Forecasting and Social Change 41:329–331. Grodinski, F. 1967 Guide to Pa¨ rnu (Brochure). Tallinn: Eesti Raamot Publishing House. Haapsalu Municipality 1995 Haapsalu Today (leaflet news sheet). Haapsalu Municipality. Hall, D. 1991 Tourism and Economic Development in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union. London: Belhaven. Hay, I. 2001 Bohemian Rhapsody. Leisure Management 21(4):52–55. Isvestia 1973 Isvestia (February 20):5. 1973 Isvestia (July 26):5. 1994 Isvestia (May 14):2. Jaakson, R. 1996 Tourism in Transition in Post Soviet Estonia. Annals of Tourism Research 23:617–634. Johnson, M. 1995 Czech and Slovak Tourism: Patterns, Problems, and Prospects. Tourism Management 16:21–28. Karing, T. 1989 Organisational and Economic Problems of Arranging Recreation for Town Dwellers in the Estonian S.S.R. A paper submitted to the Fourth international Conference on Tourism Conception and Creation of the Sphere for recuperation and recreation of the Town Dweller. Tallinn: Estonian Academy of Sciences.

BARRY WORTHINGTON

385

Keesing 1940 Keesing’s Contemporary Archives. Kohl, J. 1842 Russia–St. Petersburg, Moscow, Kharkhoff, Riga, Odessa, the German Provinces on the Baltic, the Steppes, the Crimea, and the Interior of the Empire. Translated and abridged from the German. London: Chapman and Hall. Kruczala, J. 1990 Tourism Planning in Poland. Annals of Tourism Research 17:69–78. Lieven, A. 1993 The Baltic Revolution. Yale: Yale University Press. Literaturnaya Gazeta 1972 Literaturnaya Gazeta (August 23 :10. Pa¨ rnu Tourism Development Center 1996 Parnu Extra (Leaflet news sheet) Pa¨ rnu: Tourism Development Center. Photo-Davikos 1935 Guide to Tallinn: The Picturesque Capital of Estonia (Brochure). Tallinn: Photo-Davikos. Pickles, J., and A. Smith 1998 Theorising Transition: The Political Economy of Post-Communist Transformations. London: Routledge. Quail Map Company 1993 Historical Map of Estonian Railways. Exeter: Quail Map Company. Railway Gazette 1921 Railway Gazette (September 9):402. Reiser Travel Agency 1994-1995 Pa¨ rnu: The Sunny Side of Estonia. Parnu: Reiser Travel Agency. Saar, K. 1993 Estonia: A New Tourism Destination (brochure). Tallinn: Informare Ltd. Sachs, J. 1990 Eastern Europe’s Economies: What is to be Done? The Economist 314:21–24. Schlossman, K. 1939 Estonian Curative Sea Muds and Seaside Health Resorts. London: Boreas Publishing. Sovetskaia Publishing House 1977 Great Soviet Encyclopaedia (3rd ed). Moscow: Sovetskaia Publishing House. Terk, E. 1995 A Changing Economy in a Changing Soviet Union. Nationalities Papers 23(1):106. Via Baltica News Limited 1994 Via Baltica News (brochure). Tallinn: Via Baltica News Limited. Williams, A., and V. Balaz 2000 Tourism in Transition: Economic Change in Central Europe. London: I.B. Tauris. 2001 From Collective Provision to Commodification of Tourism. Annals of Tourism Research 28:27–49.

Submitted 6 September 2000. Resubmitted 19 July 2001. Resubmitted 29 March 2002. Accepted 7 October 2002. Refereed anonymously. Coordinating Editor: Anton Gosar