Tourist Destinations Have It Tough—A Kyoto Temple's Public Stance and a Taxi Driver's Honest Opinion

While watching the news, I saw a story about a temple in Kyoto that had announced, “No entry for visitors wearing kimono.”

It reminded me of a previous visit to Kyoto.

This was a different temple from the one in the news, but it too was known for being quite strict about admitting tourists in kimono, especially foreign tourists wearing kimono.

When I visited, I actually saw foreign tourists in kimono being turned away at the entrance.

Foreign tourists in ordinary jeans or shorts were allowed in, so I felt a little sorry for them. Still, there are plenty of other temples.

Is It Kimono the Temple Dislikes, or Tourists?

For temples and shrines, bad behavior by some tourists is a serious problem.

They enter gardens, damage buildings, and take pictures where photography is prohibited. These days, some people even deliberately do things they would never normally do just for social media or YouTube.

A temple is not a theme park.

It has buildings and gardens that have been maintained for hundreds of years, and it is also a religious site. It is only natural for those responsible for managing it to become angry when people do whatever they please just because they want an Instagram-worthy photo.

But they cannot assess each visitor’s character at the entrance.

“You seem to have good manners, so you may enter.”

“You look as though you might cause trouble on TikTok, so you may not.”

They cannot screen people that way.

So they create a simple rule and restrict entry.

Many of the nuisance YouTubers arrive wearing kimono. In that case, the solution is to ban kimono altogether.

A Very Kyoto Way of Applying the Rules

What is interesting is that rules like this are not necessarily applied mechanically.

According to the woman at reception, Japanese visitors may be allowed in when it is not crowded. They are apparently asked not to make it too obvious, however.

That made me wonder what would happen with a foreign visitor who spoke fluent Japanese and understood how to behave at temples and shrines.

In the end, perhaps the woman at reception decides, “This person will be fine.”

The rule is written on the sign. But a human being applies it.

It feels very Japanese.

I Can Understand Why Parisians Lose Their Patience

I once saw a YouTube video in which tourists complained that people in Paris were unfriendly.

On the other hand, Parisians see it differently.

“Try to imagine what it is like to have tourists pour in from all over the world every day, ignore the rules, and make a mess of your city.”

That is their side of the story.

When you think about it, that is only natural.

For tourists, both Kyoto and Paris are an escape from everyday life.

For the people who live there, however, these places are their everyday life.

Tourists leave after three days.

The residents are still there the next day.

That is a significant difference.

“I Hate This Festival”

Come to think of it, I once visited Kyoto during the Gion Festival.

The crowds were enormous.

I took a taxi, but the roads were so congested that we barely moved.

Then the driver suddenly looked at the jammed road and said:

“The city is so crowded and cluttered. I hate this festival.”

He practically spat out the words.

He was talking about the Gion Festival.

It is one of Japan’s best-known festivals and one of Kyoto’s major events, drawing tourists from around the world.

And here was a Kyoto taxi driver carrying a tourist during the festival, saying:

“I hate it.”

That was what he said.

I thought to myself:

“Wait a minute. Don’t you have more customers than you can handle today precisely because of all these tourists?”

At least, that was what I thought.

But the driver was not in a particularly good mood, so all I said was:

“I suppose so.”

That was all I said.

Looking back now, perhaps that was the honest opinion of someone who lives in a tourist destination.

Tourists bring in money.

Hotels, restaurants, and taxi companies all make money.

But the roads become congested. There is more garbage. The city gets noisier. Cultural properties are damaged. Even the residents’ everyday lives become part of the tourist experience.

“We want tourists to come. But if possible, we would also like them to be quiet.”

That is quite an unreasonable demand.

And yet, what happens at temple entrances, the irritation of Parisians, and the Kyoto taxi driver who hates the Gion Festival probably all have the same root cause.

Tourist destinations suffer without tourists.

They also suffer when there are too many tourists.

That driver was not offering a sophisticated analysis of tourism policy.

“I hate this festival.”

There may be no more concise explanation of overtourism.