When it comes to inner peace, the tone becomes harsher in Japan. In any case, the messages of the banners that line the streets in Tokyo’s Shibuya district on Halloween night have more to do with a culture of expulsion than of welcome. “Shibuya on Halloween is not a trash can, a fight place or an ashtray,” it says in Japanese and English, as if anyone had ever said that. The statue of Hachiko the dog at the train station, a classic tourist attraction, has disappeared behind high partitions. “You cannot see Hachiko from Saturday until Wednesday morning,” it reads. And at the famous giant intersection, police officers with barrier tape direct the crowds of pedestrians, some of whom are disguised, and shout that they should move on. At least they say please.
Police officers control traffic at the famous intersection in Tokyo’s Shibuya district, just before Halloween.
(Photo: kyodo/dpa)
Shibuya’s mayor Ken Hasebe ordered this inhospitable manner for the costume party. He wanted to prevent a catastrophe like the one that occurred in South Korea’s capital Seoul on Halloween last year; 159 people died in a mass panic in the entertainment district of Itaewon. Hasebe’s regulation affected not only foreign Halloween visitors, but especially Japanese ones. Nevertheless, she also fit in with a trend. Because Japan basically wants to do more to combat the circumstances that guests are faced with.
The issue of overtourism is not new to Japan, it only had a break of almost three years from the beginning of 2020. During the pandemic, Japan’s government closed the borders to holidaymakers from abroad. The catering industry suffered, others secretly enjoyed peace. But the borders have been open again since last autumn. The tourism authority reports that the number of visitors has almost reached the level of the pre-pandemic period.
More than 17 million travelers came to the country in the first nine months of this year. Complaints from some locals about noise, garbage and overcrowded public transport are immediately back, especially in Tokyo, Osaka and Kyoto.
The guests should visit unknown regions. Do they want that?
Japan’s tourism was a growing market before the Corona crisis. According to the tourism authority, there was record income of more than 4.8 trillion yen, the equivalent of around 30 billion euros, from foreign visitors in 2019. But in Japan people like things to be quiet and clean according to local custom. So very quiet and very clean. And the right-wing government in Tokyo cares about the well-being of its compatriots. The Ministry of Tourism has therefore recently presented an anti-overtourism plan. Prime Minister Fumio Kishida said the plan aims to make Japan “a sustainable tourism destination” where visitors are so disruptive that locals can accept them.
Meoto-Iwa, the “Wedded Rocks”: two rocks that are supposed to symbolize man and woman and are connected with sacred ribbons. The rocks are located in Ise-Shima, in the region intended as an alternative destination.
(Photo: imago stock&people/robertharding)
The plan primarily relies on improved infrastructure in tourism hotspots, more taxis, more buses, and more direct connections from train stations to popular attractions. But the ministry also wants to redirect more tourists from places like Tokyo or Kyoto to lesser-known regions. For example, in the peninsula landscape of Ise-Shima, Mie Prefecture, or in the sparsely populated east of the northern island of Hokkaido. The idea could be a win for visitors to Japan. You would get to know the country from its natural side, for example you could eat seafood with Ama divers in Ise-Shima or go on tours through the mountains in Hokkaido.
But will these alternatives convince those who have always wanted to go to the old imperial city of Kyoto or to the brightening high-rise jungle of Tokyo? Above all, guests would certainly not be happy if Japan PR told them: “You can’t see what you want to see.”