Baguio City. The “City of Pines.” The “Summer Capital of the Philippines.” Home of the Panagbenga Festival, cool breezes, fresh strawberries, and that irresistible Instagrammable fog that wraps Session Road like a cozy scarf. It’s no wonder thousands flock here each day, armed with North Face jackets, Choco-late de Batirol cravings, and a very flexible interpretation of “I just need a quick weekend escape.”
But let’s pause for a second.
What happens when too many visitors fall in love with a city that can’t carry the weight of their affection? What happens when the charm of a place becomes its curse? What happens when tourists start acting like Baguio is their backyard — and forget that 370,000 people actually live here?
Why Baguio Is the Ultimate “Comeback City”
Let’s face it: Baguio has a vibe.
Originally built as a hill station by the Americans in 1900, this city wasn’t meant for this kind of massive, modern-day tourism. And yet, its unique blend of history, cool climate, artsy subcultures, indigenous roots, and lush pine-scented scenery makes it a magnet for all sorts of travelers — heartbroken millennials, escapist college barkadas, retirees searching for peace, vloggers chasing aesthetic angles, and families trying to chill without melting in Metro Manila’s 40-degree heat.
You see, Baguio offers more than just sweater weather. It offers identity. A creative spirit. A quiet dignity. A whiff of nostalgia. And perhaps more importantly: an illusion of freedom. A break from the everyday grind. A momentary escape from the country’s heat, chaos, and complexity.
But there’s a catch — and it’s a big one.
The Entitled Visitor Syndrome: “This Is My Baguio!”
Somewhere along the way, a strange phenomenon emerged. The more people visited Baguio, the more they felt like they owned it.
You’ve seen it.
The tourist who complains about the long lines at Good Shepherd like they’ve been baking ube jam all their life. The TikToker who insists on parking at Mines View and blocks the entire flow of traffic for a selfie with a St. Bernard. The visitors who litter pine needles with plastic cups, leave Burnham Park in disarray, or use every spare pine tree as a prop for their pre-nup shoot. It’s like suddenly, everyone forgot this is a living city — not a theme park.
It’s not that tourists aren’t welcome. They are. In fact, Baguio’s economy relies heavily on tourism. But hospitality is not the same as servitude, and being a guest doesn’t mean you own the house.
“Locals Are Getting Uncomfortable” — And Rightfully So
Let’s not sugarcoat it: many residents are fed up.
Every long weekend or holiday, the city groans under the weight of tens of thousands of visitors. Picture this: a city originally designed for 25,000 people now entertaining daily influxes that rival the population of small towns — without the infrastructure to support it.
Traffic jams that turn 10-minute drives into hour-long ordeals.
Garbage piling up in tourist spots and barangays alike.
Water shortages. Power fluctuations. Rising prices. Displaced residents.
Students struggling to get to school. Workers arriving late. Families unable to enjoy their own parks.
Suddenly, the charm wears thin.
What used to be a peaceful early morning walk in Wright Park becomes a shuffle through honking vehicles, grab-hungry influencers, and exhaust fumes. The soulful silence of the mountains now echoes with karaoke, revving engines, and plastic wrappers dancing in the wind.
The Local Government: Fighting the Uphill Battle
To be fair, Mayor Benjamin Magalong and the Baguio City government aren’t exactly sitting around roasting marshmallows. They know the situation is dire. And they’re working — sometimes against enormous odds — to restore balance.
Here’s what they’re doing:
Traffic Management: The city has implemented number coding, rerouted traffic flows, and set up designated parking spaces and pedestrian zones. They’ve even toyed with the idea of cable cars and monorails. (Yes, Baguio may one day look like an anime city.)
Smart Urban Planning: Baguio’s 10-year master plan includes strategies to limit overdevelopment, regulate building permits, and reforest protected areas. There’s also a push to move towards sustainable tourism, where visitor volume is controlled based on carrying capacity.
Waste and Water Management: From strict plastic bans to community cleanup drives, the city is working to manage solid waste, enhance water conservation, and ensure environmental preservation.
Tourism Discipline Campaigns: Partnering with the Department of Tourism and the private sector, Baguio’s officials are encouraging a more mindful approach to visiting — promoting eco-tourism, heritage respect, and traveler responsibility.
Still, these efforts are sometimes met with resistance — because, let’s face it, disciplining visitors doesn’t always make you popular. (Try telling someone they can’t double park at Camp John Hay and watch them react like you just told them unicorns don’t exist.)
What Happens If We Don’t Stop the Madness?
If left unchecked, Baguio could go the way of so many over-touristed destinations: from charming to choking.
Here’s a dystopian forecast:
The Pine Trees Die: Overdevelopment and air pollution could destroy the very symbol of the city. Those misty, magical pine forests? Gone. Replaced with concrete and car smoke.
The Water Runs Dry: Baguio already faces water scarcity during dry months. More people means more demand. No water = no city.
Locals Leave: Frustrated by the rising cost of living, congestion, and lack of access to their own city, residents could slowly migrate elsewhere — taking with them the soul and culture that make Baguio Baguio.
Tourists Will Eventually Hate It Too: Ironically, when a place becomes too touristy, even tourists stop coming. (Remember Boracay’s near-collapse before its rehabilitation?) When the cool factor is replaced by chaos, and every photo has a hundred other people in the background, the magic dies.
Is Baguio Still Worth Visiting? Absolutely — But Change the Way You Visit
If you’re still reading this and thinking, “But I love Baguio!” — good. That means there’s hope.
But love is not just about enjoyment. Love involves respect, responsibility, and restraint. So, if you truly love Baguio, here’s what you can do:
1. Don’t Be a Weekend Warrior
Avoid peak holidays and long weekends. If you can, visit during off-peak seasons. The weather is still great, the lines are shorter, and the locals are more relaxed.
2. Leave No Trace
Take your trash with you. Don’t vandalize or damage public spaces. Respect local rules — even the ones about parking.
3. Support Local
Buy from local artisans. Eat at family-owned restaurants. Stay in homegrown B&Bs. Don’t just consume — contribute.
4. Be a Visitor, Not a Colonizer
Baguio is not your escape room. It’s a living, breathing city. Learn a bit of Ilocano or Ibaloi. Listen to local stories. Ask questions. Don’t treat people like photo props or service robots.
5. Educate Fellow Tourists
Share this message. Be an advocate for mindful travel. When you see friends acting entitled or careless, call them out.
Final Thought: Let’s Not Love Baguio to Death
Baguio doesn’t need more admirers. It needs better ones.
It needs people who will visit not to take, but to give back. Not to conquer, but to coexist. Not to escape life, but to understand a different one.
Because if we keep acting like Baguio belongs to us — without considering the people who actually live there — we won’t just ruin the city. We’ll erase its spirit.
And what a terrible loss that would be.
So the next time someone tells you, “Uy, tara Baguio!”, pause. Ask yourself:
Are you going as a guest — or as a problem?
The choice, dear traveler, is yours.
Share this if you love Baguio, and want it to stay beautiful, liveable, and full of life — not just for tourists, but for the people who call it home.
