オーバーツーリズム時代の対極Overtourism Era Contrasts

When people hear “Hokuriku,” many likely envision Kanazawa City in Ishikawa Prefecture, renowned as one of Japan’s leading tourist destinations. Indeed, even among Japanese people, Kanazawa continues to dominate tourism strategies in Hokuriku. However, Kanazawa’s momentum has started waning since the Noto Peninsula earthquake on January 1, 2024, gradually eroding its appeal as a tourist spot. This situation symbolizes how Japan’s regional areas are increasingly compelled to undergo significant strategic shifts from their conventional tourism approaches.

In an era where overtourism has become a severe issue across numerous regions, it is equally true that many areas suffer from an utter lack of visitors. A representative example is Fukui Prefecture, where I am currently traveling. Fukui has long held the unfortunate distinction of ranking among the worst in terms of tourist numbers nationwide, especially in attracting foreign travelers. Although tourism strategies have been pursued, they have utterly failed to produce tangible outcomes, quickly leaving the prefecture behind the times. Yet, in March 2024, the Hokuriku Shinkansen was extended from Kanazawa to Tsuruga, providing, for the first time, direct Shinkansen access from Tokyo, thus raising fresh expectations.

With the realization of this long-held dream, Fukui Prefecture hastily attempted to launch large-scale tourism campaigns. However, due to negative legacies accumulated from years of neglecting tourism strategies, Fukui spectacularly missed this new opportunity. I have personally witnessed the massive construction processes associated with the Hokuriku Shinkansen extension to Tsuruga over the past five years in places like Komatsu City in Ishikawa Prefecture and Fukui City in Fukui Prefecture. Even then, despite recognizing the area’s tourism potential, I distinctly remember feeling skeptical that sufficient strategies would ever be put forward to attract visitors effectively.

Indeed, despite Tsuruga Station undergoing a major renovation in September 2022 ahead of the Shinkansen extension, the changes proved superficial. Even after walking around the station area for two days, I observed only a sparse presence of tourists. However, today, traveling from Tsuruga into the western region, I strongly sensed Fukui’s significant untapped tourism potential. At a time when overtourism has reached overwhelming proportions, finding tranquility and authentic experiences in Japan’s major tourist spots is exceedingly difficult. Yet, quietude has become the gold of the 21st century, and memorable journeys that allow visitors to deeply and leisurely appreciate Japanese culture and history represent the most attractive tourism strategy. From this perspective, as I have described over the past few days, Fukui offers numerous beautiful and quiet places, such as moments spent gazing absentmindedly from the windows of local trains rolling past beautiful rice paddies, experiencing quiet reflections at the Mikata Five Lakes (三方五湖), and viewing the deep, shining blue waters of Wakasa Bay. Indeed, the past several days here have deeply impressed me.

However, Fukui Prefecture itself entirely fails to recognize these charms, instead becoming lost regarding what exactly to promote. Personally, I believe a significant issue lies within Japan’s current administrative system, specifically the mandatory rule for bureaucrats to rotate departments every three years. Through my father’s frequent interactions with various regional government offices, I have learned firsthand accounts of how staff members assigned to prefectural or municipal tourism departments must absolutely transfer after three years. This prevents the adoption of effective long-term tourism strategies. It is evident that successful tourism planning and promotion cannot occur within such a short, three-year cycle, requiring instead strategic thinking spanning ten or even several decades. As a result, it is common to find local government officials in tourism departments who do not know their own regions well.

Unbeknownst to many foreign tourists, a prominent example of a city suffering the negative effects of not implementing proactive tourism strategies, ultimately succumbing to overtourism, is Kyoto City. Visitors might assume that Kyoto naturally attracts tourists simply through walking its historic streets, making deliberate tourism strategies seem unnecessary. Interestingly, Kyoto held this exact view before the overtourism boom. The city historically assumed its abundant cultural and historical assets required no promotional interventions. This mindset originated in the post-war economic boom when Kyoto, having survived largely intact from World War II devastation (similar to Kanazawa), regained attention from newly confident Japanese citizens who saw it as a place to “experience Japan.”

Before the influx of foreign tourists, Kyoto primarily attracted large-scale domestic group tours, especially school trips (the same reason Nagasaki City faces severe decline today). As a result, Kyoto became complacent, believing tourists would always come regardless of any strategic or promotional efforts. This complacency resulted in panic once overtourism emerged, continuing to affect Kyoto today. Thus, I contend that Kyoto’s current overtourism problems partly stem from its prior irresponsible lack of planning. Various factors contributed to this, one being that major tourist attractions—temples—are religious corporations exempt from paying local taxes to Kyoto City. Consequently, no matter how many visitors Kyoto attracted, the city failed to benefit financially from increased tourism.

Furthermore, even though visitors poured into Kyoto, the city lacked sufficient accommodation facilities at the time, drastically limiting the economic benefits Kyoto could reap from tourism. Consequently, tourists frequently stayed in neighboring areas, inevitably spending on dining outside Kyoto as well. Like many municipalities nationwide, Kyoto now suffers severe financial difficulties. Accumulating negative impacts have led to rising frustration among Kyoto residents today.

While Kyoto missed out on fully leveraging the unprecedented tourism opportunity, neighboring Osaka City seized this golden chance. Historically renowned for merchant culture, Osaka residents possess considerable business acumen and would never overlook such a significant opportunity. With Kyoto City approximately one hour away by train, Osaka swiftly entered a hotel construction boom to capitalize on the situation. Recognizing its limited intrinsic tourist appeal, Osaka astutely aimed to accommodate tourists visiting Kyoto. Furthermore, Osaka’s abundant culinary culture meant tourists visiting temples in Kyoto during the day could conveniently stay and dine in Osaka, thereby increasing the city’s tourism-related revenue. This strategy proved tremendously successful, catapulting Osaka’s tourist numbers to among the highest in Japan, supporting the late-2010s overtourism wave.

By the time Kyoto recognized the urgent need for hotel construction, it was already too late. Osaka’s successful five-year head start solidified the travel pattern where tourists primarily stayed in Osaka, severely limiting Kyoto’s revenues for years. Simultaneously, Kyoto restaurants greedily hiked prices, targeting visitors with high spending power and alienating local regulars. Consequently, Kyoto’s restaurant landscape changed, filling with overpriced establishments disconnected from quality. The city center was overwhelmed by sheer numbers of visitors, and the places where one could quietly savor the atmosphere of Japan grew few. Conversely, Osaka’s relatively affordable dining options successfully captured dissatisfied Kyoto visitors, significantly advancing Osaka’s tourism profile over the past decade.

Yet, as noted earlier, Fukui Prefecture has remained utterly left behind in this era of overtourism. Why? Remarkably, the root cause lies in historical dynamics dating back to the Meiji Restoration. Political conditions established at that time resulted in Fukui enjoying a cushioned environment, continually receiving substantial government subsidies, allowing it to neglect tourism strategies for decades. The true underlying issue is Fukui’s entrenched dependence on subsidies stemming from hosting the largest concentration of nuclear power plants in Japan. Thus, Fukui’s fundamental problem isn’t a lack of tourism strategies but rather its entrenched reliance on nuclear subsidies and whether it can transition away from this outdated system.

From my perspective, this transition currently appears challenging, positioning Fukui as a textbook case of being left behind in Japan’s era of overtourism. Indeed, despite Japanese schools entering summer break, tourists remain almost entirely absent around the recently extended Tsuruga Station area. In my next piece, I will delve further into Fukui Prefecture’s nuclear power issue—an issue that vividly illustrates the complexities and hidden realities of contemporary Japan.