A Blind Man Can See

A Blind Man Can See

June 13, 2026

Today, I attended the Town Hall Meeting on the future of the Caracasbaai Peninsula after all. It was worse than I had expected.

During the opening presentation, Maripampoen was showcased as a shining example of successful development. That surprised me. Maripampoen is, after all, a project that causes parking problems day and night. Parts of the area flood during almost every heavy rainfall. Along the coastline, large rocks have been placed to create the impression that everything is under control, while sea levels continue to rise.

When asked whether the plans take the Carrying Capacity Study into account, the answer was yes. Apparently, the young people presenting these plans have access to the study, while it remains carefully hidden from the wider public. Yet no explanation was given as to how the study actually supports the proposed development.

But a blind man can see that the carrying capacity of this area has long been exceeded.

The Caracasbaai Road is congested on a daily basis. Parking is already a problem. As in Maripampoen, people park on sidewalks and in places never intended for parking.

The next proposal is already waiting in the wings: selling a new road through the salt flats and natural areas as the solution.

Another blind spot is the assumption that everything ultimately revolves around tourism. Tourists want restaurants, we are told. The images shown during the presentation repeatedly featured cruise ships. At the same time, the presenters kept emphasizing that there would be no cruise ships and no hotels. As if that were the public’s greatest concern.

One wonders whether the planners looked left and right on their way to the meeting. Did they not see the Podhouse project? Did they not see Laman? Did they not notice how a condominium development has already appropriated a significant part of the beach that once belonged to the public?

What makes this particularly painful is that the presentation was largely delivered by young professionals. They, more than anyone else, will live with the consequences of the decisions being made today. Instead, they are being asked to promote a development model that convinces fewer and fewer people.

The most striking thing is that they seem to genuinely believe they are working on sustainable development.

Who needs more tourism?

That question is rarely asked.

Curaçao should have abandoned the notion years ago that more tourists automatically mean a better future. In hindsight, a ceiling of roughly 500,000 visitors per year would probably have been the wiser course. The focus should have shifted toward attracting visitors who are willing to spend more, rather than pursuing ever-growing volumes and all-inclusive tourism.

Remarkably, the Spatial Development Plan (EOP) has suddenly become important again. In the outdated EOP, part of the peninsula is designated as a nature or reserve area, while another part is designated for tourism-related development. But plans should not be judged solely on the basis of what was written on paper years ago. They should be judged against the reality of today.

And the reality of today is overtourism.

We can already barely find enough workers. Infrastructure is under pressure. Nature is under pressure. Beaches are under pressure.

For that reason, young people should realize that their own future would be better served by returning this area to nature. Turn Caracasbaai into a national park. Protect what remains before it disappears as well.

No new study is needed for that.

No new vision is needed either.

What is needed is the courage to acknowledge what a blind man can already see: Caracasbaai does not need more development. It needs protection.

Who needs more tourism?

Miguel Goede