A year after the lifting of restrictions, the government is struggling to cope with millions of visitors, especially those who do not respect the local environment and customs.
At the height of the Covid pandemic, restaurateurs and merchants at Tokyo’s Tsukiji Market would have had to have been dreaming of days like these.
Columns of visitors with smartphones roam the narrow streets, preventing kitchen knives and tsukemono pickles from being hand-forged, and loose samples of green tea from being tasted. Restaurants tempt the lunchtime crowd with roasted wagyu sticks, boiled crab legs, and, for dessert, plump strawberries topped with fluffy mochi rice.
But there are signs that Tsukiji’s multinational visitor base is not at its best. Signs in English implore them not to eat in front of stores or leave the trash. Staff maintain symptoms by reminding diners where to line up for their 12-piece sushi lunch. Value ¥2,700 (¥14. 40). Here, as in many other popular destinations around the world, increased tourism is a double-edged sword.
Nearly a year after Japan lifted all pandemic-related restrictions, foreign visitors are returning with a vengeance, drawn by the weak yen, world-renowned cuisine and the promise of an unforgettable vacation in a country once considered a lost tourist country.
“Everything is cheap, the service is amazing and the food is what you can taste, and at a fraction of the value you would pay in the United States,” said Tommy Buchheit, an American visiting Japan for the first time.
These and other attractions attracted 25. 8 million foreign visitors to Japan last year, according to immigration authorities, six times more than in 2022. Together, they spent a record 5. 3 billion yen (£28. 3 billion), according to the Japan Tourism Agency. The Japanese government needs more and has set an ambitious target of 60 million visitors (and 15 trillion yen in finishing) by the end of the decade.
But critics say Japan is unprepared for a surge in tourist numbers, putting even greater pressures on accommodation, public transport and the service sector at a time when the country is grappling with severe labour shortages.
In his vision for a new “tourism nation,” Prime Minister Fumio Kishida said sustainable tourism is about welcoming visitors without harming the quality of life of local people. Proposals put forward by the government last year include expanding the number of buses and taxis, extending public shipping fares at peak times and opening new bus routes.
He also highlighted 11 “model” destinations, adding the eastern countryside of Hokkaido and the subtropical island of Okinawa, which he hopes will divert visitors from Tokyo, Osaka and Kyoto, which together account for 64% of overnight stays by foreign visitors in the country. . the first 8 months of last year. It will be less about eating and more about cultural immersion, from experiencing mountain asceticism and Zen meditation to making pottery and sake.
“Tourist pollution” is noticeable in Kyoto, Japan’s former capital and home to some of the country’s most prominent temples and shrines, as well as in the geisha district of Gion. In 2022, the number of tourists visiting Kyoto exceeded 43 million, about 30 times the city’s population.
Peter MacIntosh, a longtime Canadian resident who organises geisha-themed walking tours, said residents were struggling to reconcile the disruption caused by hordes of visitors with a dramatic uptick in spending.
“The challenge is that other people here need both worlds: to have a quieter life and to make money, but this will only get worse as more and more people arrive. Kyoto is becoming a pitched battle,” MacIntosh said. , who added that excursion teams of up to 40 people were not unusual.
The boom has caused lesser-known places to take on travelers eager to collect content on social media. These include a railroad crossing in Kamakura, southwest of Tokyo, which was flooded with enthusiasts for Slam Dunk, a popular manga and animated TV series about top-school basketball. The crossing, which appears in the anime’s opening credits, is considered by enthusiasts to be a “sacred place. “
Some local governments are taking matters into their own hands, fearing that overtourism could damage sites of ancient and ecological interest.
Visitors to Itsukushima Shrine, a Unesco world heritage site, must pay ¥100 (53p) admission, while later this year, tourists heading to the Taketomi islands will be charged an as-yet undecided sum to help protect their pristine beaches.
Starting this summer, visitors who plan to hike to the summit of the UNESCO site Mount Fuji will be charged ¥2000 (£10. 70), as the local government tries to alleviate the busy trails that more than five million people walked in 2019.
“Japan is a must-see destination,” said Karlÿn de Bruin, who was visiting Tokyo from the Netherlands with his father and brother. “I guess the locals have had enough, so we’re thinking about taking care of our own business. But you can feel the social media vibe. . . People dress up and take photos in a safe way because that creates smart content.
Kenichi Kondō, a fishmonger from Tsukiji, smiled as he served grilled black cod fillets to hungry passersby. “Our profits are up tenfold compared to a few years ago,” said Kondō, whose company has held the same position for more than 50 years. “In the beginning, we had a lot of other people from North America and Europe, but now they’re basically coming from Southeast Asia, and we’re expecting a lot of Chinese visitors when they celebrate their New Year soon. “
While praising the boost tourism has given his store’s 10 employees, Kondō said waste poses a big challenge. “We try to overcome this challenge by giving other people the ability to dispose of their waste if they buy our fish. There are exceptions, however, tourists here are sometimes well behaved.
Lizzie Jones, an American on her fourth trip to Japan, was sanguine about the crowds she encountered at Tsukiji on an unseasonably warm February day. “You expect it when you do all the touristy things … when you come to this market you know it’s going to be packed.”
But like many locals, she took exception to litter louts and nuisance influencers who trample on local customs and treat busy locations like their personal photo studio.
“I think it’s a generational thing,” he said. The first few times I came here, there was no trash and now there is a lot. There’s also a sense of entitlement. . . People do what they need. “and don’t familiarize yourself with local customs. They don’t care. These posts don’t just exist for your Instagram story.