I just returned from 3+ weeks in Japan, my second trip in six months. I’m researching a historical novel and also wanted to introduce my husband to a country he’d heard so much about but had never seen. The timing of this trip was a bit complicated; my son wanted to join us, but he had a work conflict and had to arrive and depart earlier than us, and I had a course that was ending in mid-March, plus another course that I was auditing and would have to attend remotely. In the end, all of these conditions landed us in the middle of cherry blossom season, which I’d never really cared about, but it still managed to stagger me with both its beauty and the celebratory mood in the air.
My late-twenties son said that many of his friends and co-workers had either gone to Japan recently or were planning to go this year. On top of that, he learned belatedly that his company is holding its annual retreat this year in—Japan! I can only assume that the yen exchange rate, the Osaka Expo (they’re planning on doing some Osaka business), plus Japan’s popularity influenced this choice. So we had an inkling that Japan, and especially the Tōkaidō bullet train corridor between Tokyo and Kyoto, would be crowded with tourists, and adding that to our accidental cherry-blossom-season timing, we braced ourselves for some discomfort.
Several things surprised me.
First, it was easy to get away from the crowds. Almost 100% of the time, one street over from the main thoroughfare would be nearly deserted. There were many occasions where we were actually the only people walking down a street.
Second, there were workarounds even when we were headed to highly trafficked areas. In Kyoto, I learned my lesson last fall that the buses headed for the more “famous” destinations tend to be uncomfortably crowded, and occasionally unable to board local passengers at the stops. I felt bad when that happened. So this time my rule was “no buses.” I stuck with trains and taxis.
Third, the merchants seemed happy to have the customers, but the residents? Some of them are angry…very angry.
To say this surprised me is kind of disingenuous. I mean, if I had to commute daily in those crowds, I would be pretty irritated. I’ve lived in Washington, D.C., New York City, and Cairo, Egypt, so…I get it.
But when a middle-aged man in a suit barreled past us through a turnstile at Kyoto Station, saying loudly, “Damn foreigners, standing around and being a nuisance!” I was shocked. He clearly didn’t realize I could understand him, but he sounded so enraged, I thought maybe he would have shouted at me even if he did know I speak Japanese. He had just left the very crowded train from Nara, which to be fair, is usually filled mostly with tourists. But it wasn’t the fairness of the situation that upset me—it was the depth of his anger. He was furious and didn’t care who knew it.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him for several days. It made me feel terrible. I was part of the problem, but I also felt for him and for the city of Kyoto, which I have grown very fond of. I don’t want to be part of the problem, but there is only one Kyoto. Is there a way to be a part of the solution? I thought that by avoiding buses, I could help. And since being in a giant mob isn’t pleasant, we tried to detach ourselves whenever we could—and found it relatively easy to do so.
But you can’t avoid Kyoto Station. And cherry blossom season—we didn’t intend to pick that time to be there. To say it is always a crowded time of year is a massive understatement, but we really didn’t have an option for either the time or place—but then again, that man doesn’t have an option, either. It’s not like he can just pick up and move in order to avoid us. And why should he?
Originally, my husband had wanted to stay in an AirBnB in order to keep costs down. We have a large family, and over the years we’ve found it difficult to have six people in a hotel room (!) so we’ve often rented apartments or houses for our travel. It’s nice to have your own kitchen, and definitely a plus to have your own washer/dryer.
But for this trip I declined, having read an essay by Emiko Davies (who writes the Notes from Emiko’s Kitchen newsletter) about overtourism in Florence. She writes,
The result of the rampant Airbnb-ifying of Florence and increasingly high rental prices means that also shops have faced rental increases. The city has become one giant outdoor mall of same-y shops, stores and chains that you will find anywhere in the world. The little bottegas and characteristic shops of streets like Via dei Neri have disappeared because of Airbnb and this panino shop. La Repubblica recently published a piece on the closure of shops in Florence’s historical centre where “only those who sell food or are for tourists survive.” Bookshops, hardware stores, practical homeware shops and clothing stores are all disappearing — over the past decade, 1000 businesses like this have closed in Florence.
I didn’t want to be part of an AirBnB problem in Kyoto, so I insisted we stay in a hotel.
I only have one answer that I can think of, which is to visit places beyond that Tōkaidō corridor, and to choose one street over from the main thoroughfare in crowded areas. Those merchants are extra pleased to see you, for sure—just think of what the rents on the main drag must be like! But beyond that…I hope the city of Kyoto comes up with a plan, because people are going to keep visiting Kyoto no matter what.
I have to return for more research, and I will have to be in both Kyoto and Kamakura, which are heavily touristed cities. And I went to Tokyo for a few days this time and really didn’t enjoy it. It felt a little soulless. I don’t mind giving it a miss next time. I would need a really good reason to return (suggestions welcome!). But I think I will make a point of traveling to the north of the country (this summer) and the south (next winter). I have to admit, it will take awhile to lose the sting of that guy’s words. I know that not every Kyoto-ite necessarily feels that level of rage, but the problem is—I don’t blame him.
It's rare for someone to openly express their anger at foreigners. I guess things have changed somewhat and there are a lot more foreign tourists in the last few years. But it always struck me that during peak tourist seasons like cherry blossom, it was Japanese tourists causing the packed trains and buses. Japanese trains and buses have always been overcrowded...The problem perhaps is that Western tourists tend to be physically taller, can often be loud, and don't respect the no talking norms on public transport, and may not behave in an appropriate manner.
The openly angry gentleman surprises me as well. But I understand his feeling. Many spots have just too many tourists now…