Another holiday ends in tragedy. This time, a British tourist has died in a fire at a resort in the Dominican Republic. The details are still unfolding: a blaze in the early hours, guests scrambling in the dark, one life lost. For those of us watching from rainy Britain, it is a chilling reminder that the paradise we book online can turn sour in an instant.
But beyond the breaking news, there is a quieter story. It is the story of how we have come to view holidays as a right, not a luxury. We spend months planning, scrolling through Instagram for the perfect beach, the perfect pool. We forget that the staff who serve us cocktails often live in precarious housing. We forget that safety regulations in some countries are not what they are at home.
I spoke to a travel agent in Bournemouth this morning. She told me that bookings to the Dominican Republic have already dropped by 30 per cent since the news broke. ‘People are scared,’ she said. ‘But they will forget. By next summer, it will be back to normal.’ She is probably right. We have short memories when it comes to danger. We want the sun, and we want it cheap.
The UK government has now reviewed its travel advice, but what does that really mean? A few more safety warnings on a website. The resorts will carry on, the flights will carry on. The families of the victims will carry the grief, but the industry will move on. It always does.
There is a class dimension here too. The Dominican Republic is a destination for those seeking all-inclusive bargains, often families who have saved all year. The luxury villas of the super-rich are elsewhere. So when a fire happens, it is the middle classes who suffer. It is their dream that goes up in smoke.
I remember covering a similar story in 2017, when a fire in a Cuban hotel killed a British tourist. The same pattern emerged: initial panic, a dip in bookings, then a slow return to normal. We are addicts of cheap sun. And like any addict, we rationalise the risks.
So as we read the news, let’s not just scroll past. Let’s think about the human cost. The woman who died had a name, a family, a story. She was not a statistic. She was someone who saved up for a holiday, who packed her suitcase with hope. And now she is gone, because a fire broke out in a building that was never built for safety first.
The travel advice will be updated. But perhaps what needs updating is our own relationship with risk. How much are we willing to sacrifice for a week of sun? And how quickly will we forget, until the next fire, the next death, the next warning?
