The Rumour Mill

Pacha has closed. Go on, make of that what you will. You've read it, think it to be true, and pass the information on until it becomes so widely accepted that it must indeed be true. Except, of course, that it's wrong. It may though remain as fact, where you're concerned, if you hadn't bothered to read this far.

Pacha has not closed. The club has been ordered by Calvia town hall to close one floor; that's all. Yet it is a victim of misinformation, disinformation even (and there is a difference), and the misinformation fellow-traveller, rumour. The rumour of its closure would be techno or house music to the ears of Robert Knapp. Who he? One of the findings by Knapp, in a seminal work on the psychology of rumours, was that a negative rumour made for a better rumour than a positive one.

The closure rumour is forever with us. And no more so than in what are, minus their tourists, the small-town, wildfire resorts of Mallorca. Once upon a time, a rumour would have remained in-house, or rather in-resort, but not now. Mention a rumour to a visitor, and the next thing you know it has taken on a cyber life, plastered across the internet. Through Chinese whispers or chaos theory, the rumour evolves until a wrongful claim of somewhere closing becomes Mallorca's tourism shutting down completely or the island being the subject of an alien invasion. Maybe there is some truth to those potty UFO sightings rumours after all. Mulder and Scully are seen collecting their luggage from baggage reclaim at Palma airport; from the little acorn of rumour to the mighty oak of conspiracy theory.

In the resorts, rumours of closure are what it must have been like when there was talk in the local pub of the mill, mine or steelworks shutting. Well maybe that's overdoing it, but the strategic importance of the bigger hotels inspires rumours like no others. In Puerto Alcúdia, the massive Bellevue complex has been closing most years since it truly opened as a hotel in 1984.

Earlier this summer the Bellevue rumours were in full swing once again, even in other resorts. Someone in Can Picafort told me he had overheard a conversation between some "business-looking" gentlemen in a bar in Búger of all places. What were they saying? It turned out he hadn't actually heard properly, but the conclusion was still the same. The seemingly random nature of the date that was being cited for this untruthful closure - 22 August - was, or should have been, grounds for scepticism, much as there should have been when the 22nd of a different month, October in 1844, was predicted as the day of Christ's second coming. Closure, if it's going to happen, which it wasn't, tends to be planned with greater precision, e.g. at the end of a month, unless it happens to be unexpectedly brought about by an alien invasion or the end of the world, and the Millerites of the second coming got that wrong as well - to their Great Disappointment. For the record, Bellevue came under new ownership earlier this summer: reports of its death have been greatly exaggerated.

Along the coast in Puerto Pollensa, you would have heard further scuttlebutt; another hotel and various bars also subject to closure rumours, some circulating for several weeks. The hotel in question is taking bookings via its website for next year. The bars are not closing. Bar-side or internet tittle-tattle, it has a habit of escalating. Better to just zip it, order another drink or go indulge a rumour fantasy world on the likes of snopes.com.

Sometimes a rumour is started maliciously, but more often than not it is merely the gossip that can be seen coming with the flashing lights of the prefix caveat "I've heard that ...". And this is followed up with the no-smoke-without-fire justification. We seem to crave the possible conflagration of a crisis, the bad-news rumour, perhaps to add to the persecution of the greater crisis as victims of what might be the end of the tourist world as we know it. We're all Millerites in our own little way and disappointed to discover that we'd been sold a rumour pup.

Closure rumours in the current climate take hold because they fit with what we know or think we know. Times are tough and rough, so there must be some truth to them. The rumours are collectively reinforcing, despite their apparent destructiveness. The communities of the resorts allow them to flourish, and then add to them as ever more rumour is piled on, a sort of one-upmanship. My rumour is better than your rumour. And the trouble is you never know where they might come from. You've read this, and I might unwittingly have supplied fuel for a rumour. Tell you what. I've heard that ... .


Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.