Japan Doesn’t Hate Tourists. It Hates Tourists Who Don’t Try.

Heading to Hokkaido on a scouting mission recently, and experiencing two very different Japans within days made me want to address something that’s been circulating heavily lately: overtourism in Japan.

Fig 1. Night market crowds

Overtourism Is Real, But…

For reference, in 2019 the country welcomed around 32 million international visitors. Since reopening after COVID, Japan has broken tourism records. In 2024, fueled by a weak yen, visa relaxations, and what many called pandemic “revenge travel,” it surpassed pre-pandemic levels, reaching 36.87 million visitors (Reuters).

However, the issue isn’t the total number alone. It’s concentration.

Most international visitors follow what’s known as the Golden Route: Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka and Mount Fuji. These regions hold enormous historical weight, so obviously people flock to those locations. Social media then reinforces the same loop: same shrines, same viewpoints, same streets.

Ski tourism has its own version of this concentration. Niseko in Hokkaido and Hakuba on the main island became some of the most international ski towns in Japan, to the point that parts of them barely feel like Japan anymore. They are a great example of areas seeing foreign-oriented town shifts and the rise of tension between locals and visitors.

The result?

Kyoto buses are sometimes too full for locals to board. Cherry blossom festivals are being cancelled due to crowd control concerns. Photo crowds block small residential streets. Mount Fuji viewpoints now have barriers because people were stopping in the middle of roads for Instagram shots.

Overall, locals lose access to places that were once part of daily life.

And guess what, as a tourist you sometimes get to experience the frustrated Japanese vibes simply for existing.

Most definitely yes, overtourism in Japan is real. But it is geographically specific, and large parts of the country remain under-visited.

In fact, the vast majority of international visitors still concentrate in a small number of municipalities, while hundreds of regions are actively trying to attract visitors to offset population decline and economic stagnation.

Fig 2. Mount Fuji

Concentration Is Not the Only Problem…

Japan wasn’t built for you and me (as in foreigners)… and that’s why we love it.

Japan was closed to the outside world for over 200 years during the Edo period (1603–1868). It developed as an island society that prioritized internal harmony, collective responsibility, and highly codified social behavior. It did not evolve around accommodating outsiders.

And that’s precisely why it feels so different, which is what makes it appealing, but also what can create friction.

You don’t land in Japan and flow instinctively the way you might in Toronto, Munich, or Buenos Aires. Half the time you’re trying to decode how to order, how to queue, how to use a bathhouse, or even how to operate the toilet.

You’re aware of yourself in a way that’s rare in modern travel.

We are drawn to Japan because it is structured, protected, and culturally intact. But if we arrive without adapting, we slowly erode the very thing we came for.

And that’s exactly what drains many locals: tourists who don’t make the effort to understand the nuance of the culture, the unspoken rules, and behave as if they are at home: loud, careless, and impatient.

That’s what many locals are reacting to. Not to tourists themselves, but to tourists who don’t try.

Fig 3. Example of rules in a public onsen (Japanese hotsprings)

Trying Goes a Long Way

In no way am I saying that the Japanese have the perfect system. The more time I spend here, the more I feel the opposite, but that’s another blog post that I will probably be too afraid to write.

What I mean is simple: if you visit another country, learn a few words and study some of its customs and etiquette.

You will never be fully dialed. Impossible.

But you might avoid the judgmental looks, and you might get some smiles, or even compliments on the three words you learned.

Japan is not anti-tourist. It is simply exhausted by visitors who show up without trying to understand it.

This is especially common in the classic ski tourist who comes for the snow and not for Japan.

Is There Such a Thing as Good Tourism?

Not everything is bad. Tourism is economically essential.

International visitors contribute trillions of yen annually to the economy (Reuters). Rural regions in particular depend on tourism as populations shrink and younger generations move to cities.

Ski areas in Niigata, Nagano and Hokkaido have seen significant growth thanks to foreign demand for powder snow. So, yes… Japan needs tourism, but it needs people who are willing to slow down and spread out geographically. Travelers who stay long enough to actually feel a place rather than just rushing through a seven-day itinerary. It requires showing up with curiosity instead of just expectations. This means doing your homework and keeping a few words of Japanese under your sleeve, ready to use. Essentially, it needs tourism that tries.

There’s More to Japan Than the Golden Route

One of the things that surprises many people is how much of Japan remains relatively undiscovered internationally.

Fig 4. Togakushi Shrine

Not far from where we run our ski retreats in central Japan, within a couple hours drive or train ride, you can experience some of the country’s most beautiful places without the crowds.

Places like Togakushi, one of the most spiritual places in the region, where a Shinto shrine complex intertwines with a traditional village, mountains, and ancient cedar forests.

Fig 5. Kanazawa streets

Or Kanazawa, with preserved samurai districts, the stunning Kenrokuen Garden, incredible seafood, and a deep craft culture. Basically everything you need in Japan in one hit. People often call it “Kyoto without the crowds.”

Then there’s Takayama, where Edo-period streets, mountain traditions, and morning markets create one of the most atmospheric towns in the country. And guess what… delicious food.

Or Matsumoto, home to one of Japan’s most beautiful original castles and a small but creative city vibe.

Even Nagano itself, a mountain city that offers a window into everyday Japanese life, can easily shift into a more traditional setting with its old town and temples like Zenko-ji Temple.

The classic Shinkansen, or bullet train works great, but renting a car changes the game completely. You start stopping in towns that aren't on any 'Top 10' list and eating at places where you’re the only foreigner for miles. It stops being a checklist of sights and starts feeling like you’re actually participating in the landscape.

What Conscious Travel Looks Like for Shaper

With Shaper Retreats, skiing is obviously a big part of what we do. The snow in this region is world-class. But skiing is actually just one of the many segments of the experience.

What also matters is how people experience Japan while they’re here.

Groups stay intentionally small. You are not just a number. Connection is key. There’s time for powder, but also for slower moments: walking through the village, stretching sore muscles in a beautifully curated yoga session, sitting in an onsen once you finally understand how it works, or sharing a long dinner where nobody is checking the time.

Food plays a big role in that. We organise small curated dinners throughout the week so people can try regional dishes and local flavours they probably wouldn’t discover on their own. Those evenings often end up being the moments people remember most: long tables, sake appearing out of nowhere, conversations drifting between travel stories, life, and whatever strange cultural thing surprised us that day.

Because the social side of travel matters. Powder days are fun. But powder days with good company are better. Experiencing a new culture is exciting. But giggling about the weird little things: the vending machines, bathhouse etiquette, mysterious convenience store snacks. It is even better when you’re sharing it with someone.

That sense of sharing is a big part of what makes a retreat different from a trip. I’m not Japanese, and I don’t pretend to be. I’m still experiencing this country through foreign eyes. I’m still surprised by things here all the time, still learning, still getting things wrong occasionally. What I can offer is perspective. The places I’ve discovered, the rhythms I’ve learned to appreciate, and the parts of Japan that reveal themselves when you slow down a little.

If someone leaves the retreat with a few Japanese words in their pocket, a better understanding of the culture, and a group of new friends they shared the experience with, then something meaningful happened. And that matters far more than simply ticking Japan off a list.

Final Thought

Yes, overtourism exists in Japan, but the irony is that less than an hour away, under-tourism is just as real.

Japan doesn't hate tourists. It simply resists the ones who expect the country to adapt to them. If you’re willing to be the one who adapts and respects the silence, the country opens up in ways that are subtle, moving, and often unforgettable.

And that, more than the powder, the temples, or the food, is exactly why people keep coming back.