Rome has introduced a paid entry system for one of its most overcrowded attractions — the latest move following Venice, the Cinque Terre, Portofino, and the Amalfi Coast.
Who knows whether, after paying €2 to admire it, tourists will still toss a coin into the Trevi Fountain in Rome, as people have always done to ensure the good omen of one day returning. From 2 February, in fact, non-residents who want to get up close to the masterpiece designed by Gian Lorenzo Bernini and completed by Nicola Salvi must pay a ticket — modest in price, but one which the City of Rome hopes will ensure a more orderly and manageable flow of visitors at the steps of the Trevi Fountain, otherwise stormed by groups of tourists. On the first day of paid entry (with the square itself remaining free to enter and the turnstiles switched off in the evening), the City issued six thousand tickets, taking in €12,000 in a single day.
With the introduction of a ticket for close-up access to the Trevi Fountain, the capital has officially entered the debate on regulating tourist flows, moving beyond the idea that historic urban spaces must always and unconditionally be free. The initiative has, predictably, divided public opinion: is it right to charge for access to an open public space? Is it right to do something to limit the burden of overtourism on historic city centres?
The inevitable point of reference is Venice, the first Italian city to have trialled an entry fee for day visitors (between €5 and €10), with the stated aim of discouraging hit-and-run tourism and easing the now unsustainable pressure on the historic centre. For 2026, from April to July over 60 days (every Friday, Saturday and Sunday, plus certain weekdays during the weeks of 25 April, 1 May and 2 June), it will be compulsory to pay the access fee to visit the historic city of Venice. A model that, despite controversy and adjustments, has opened the way. And it is no coincidence that Florence, along with other art cities, is watching these experiments closely and weighing up similar initiatives — from selective ticketing and access caps to new rules for major visitor attractions.
But Italy's battle against overtourism is not being fought only in art cities — quite the contrary: the other front is that of open and natural spaces, where excessive visitor numbers put fragile ecosystems and the quality of life of local communities at risk.
The most striking example is Sardinia, which has turned visitor caps into a standard tool of environmental protection. From the most famous beaches to the most secluded coves, the principle is simple: not everyone can come in, at any time.
Among the most widespread measures:
The same approach applies to footpaths. In the Cinque Terre National Park, iconic routes such as the Via dell'Amore are subject to visitor caps: access is by advance booking, with visitors choosing a 30-minute time slot, for a maximum of 200 people every 30 minutes, and sometimes with one-way pedestrian systems, to reduce risk and better distribute the flow.
In the mountains, from the Dolomites to other Alpine areas, the strategy also involves blocking the expansion of accommodation, to prevent an increase in bed numbers from automatically generating new overcrowding.
In small tourist towns, especially coastal ones, the fight against overtourism takes different forms. In Portofino, ordinances against crowding at panoramic spots (the so-called anti-selfie ordinance) and a ban on tourist coaches tried, in past summers, to prevent dangerous situations — and are likely to be reintroduced in 2026. Meanwhile, in areas such as the Amalfi Coast, restricted traffic zones and traffic limitations return periodically during peak periods. These measures are not always about tickets, but about regulating the use of public space with the aim of protecting both residents and visitors alike.
From the Trevi Fountain to capped-entry beaches, the message coming from these places is clear: unlimited access is no longer compatible with the fragility of these sites. Booking a beach, a footpath or a monumental square does not mean privatising public space, but acknowledging its physical and ecological limits. The challenge, of course, is to make these measures fair, comprehensible and transparent — ensuring they do not simply become new levies, but are transformed instead into instruments of environmental education.
