Hokkaido: A Journey Through the Lens of Overtourism

To be continued, I want to share some observations from this journey. I had been told that Hokkaido was one of the top destinations for Chinese and Korean tourists during the winter season. I mentally prepared myself to join the crowds and immerse myself in the stunning and romantic snowy landscapes. However, the reality far exceeded my expectations.

It was understandable that the places we visited were filled with foreign tourists because, as first-time visitors, we naturally followed the traditional and popular sightseeing spots that locals typically avoid. To my surprise, we barely encountered any Japanese visitors at most of the tourist sites we went to. The languages we heard were almost exclusively Chinese, Korean, and other foreign languages. This made me wonder: do Japanese people not visit Hokkaido for tourism? It felt as though Hokkaido was a completely different country.

This feeling became even stronger when we boarded a train bound for Otaru. I’d estimate that over 80% of the passengers were foreigners. The line to board was so long that if you weren’t at the front, it was impossible to get a seat. The train cars filled up with foreign passengers almost instantly. Most tourists wore similar outfits—coats paired with scarves. The coats were often black or white, and the scarves were typically blue and white.

It is generally hard to distinguish the nationality of East Asians based on appearance, especially since many tourists who come to Hokkaido are influenced by famous Japanese dramas like First Love or classic movies like Love Letter. This influence extends to makeup and fashion, making it unreliable to determine nationality solely by appearance. However, based on their outfits, it was relatively easy to differentiate Japanese from non-Japanese visitors. The tourists, myself included, followed a typical “foreign tourist” dress code—I wore a blue coat with a white scarf. This observation made me confident in my assumption that the overwhelming majority of passengers on that train were non-Japanese.

For tourists, the two most popular destinations seemed to be Mount Tengu and Otaru Aquarium. When we arrived at the bus terminal, we found hundreds, if not thousands, of people in line for buses to these two destinations. In contrast, the other destinations appeared to have no waiting passengers. Despite this disparity, the buses were scheduled to arrive at almost the same intervals, which didn’t make sense to me. While it’s hard to predict the exact number of tourists at any given time, it would seem more effective to adjust the frequency of buses to match the demand for popular destinations.

Overtourism is clearly becoming a societal issue in many places in Japan.

Another irrational experience occurred at Mount Tengu. To save time waiting in line for tickets, we had purchased ours in advance at the bus station, based on information my sister had found on Chinese social media where users often share travel tips. However, when we arrived, it was confusing which line we were supposed to join. I asked a staff member, and he told me that everyone, regardless of whether they had tickets, had to wait in the same line. So we followed his instructions and waited.

But as we stood there, I noticed that people who already had tickets were naturally heading upstairs and boarding the cable car directly. This made me wonder if it was better not be able to understand Japanese, It felt like, “No warning, no fault.” I couldn’t help but think that with such a high volume of foreign visitors, more clear instructions—such as visible signs or billboards—should be provided to avoid confusion.

This trip gave me a deeper understanding of how overtourism affects local communities. It’s a complex issue with both positive and negative aspects. As tourists, we need to take responsibility by learning and adhering to local rules, being respectful, and behaving humbly. At the same time, local institutions must acknowledge the realities of overtourism and take proactive measures to manage the influx of visitors, whether by improving infrastructure or adjusting services to accommodate demand. Addressing this challenge requires collaboration and understanding on both sides.

Before this trip, I didn’t fully understand why locals were often upset with foreign tourists’ behavior. Now, I can completely empathize. Overtourism has a direct impact on the daily lives of residents. Simple activities like running errands or taking public transportation become challenging due to overcrowding. The atmosphere can also become unpleasant, with issues like loud conversations, littering, dirty or smelly restrooms, and other disruptive behaviors from tourists.

I sincerely hope that all tourists strive to follow local customs and aim to become the kind of visitors who are appreciated and welcomed by the communities they visit. Tourism can and should be a mutually enriching experience, but this requires effort, respect, and cooperation from everyone involved.