Anyone who likes cities to be lively and full of people at all hours would appreciate cities in Japan.1 There are large numbers of pedestrians and cyclists not only in the central business districts but also in many of the residential zones of most big Japanese cities. It’s not hard to explain this. The large role of public transit in urban mobility guarantees that there will be numerous pedestrians and cyclists moving to and from transit stops.2 In addition, the absence of free parking in Japanese cities encourages even car owners to do everyday tasks on foot or by bicycle. Radically mixed land uses in dense outer-city nodes also demand movement on foot. And it’s pretty clear that recreational walking is common in Japan.
I wouldn’t say though that conditions for pedestrians and cyclists are perfect in Japan. Narrow streets often have at most a white stripe to separate pedestrians from traffic. There are sidewalks along major streets, but, thanks to the near absence of curbside parking, one is often in close proximity to fast traffic. Even more important, sidewalks are often crowded, and there are frequently cyclists to contend with, who have a choice nearly everywhere of using streets or sidewalks. Some streets have sharrows or blue arrows for cyclists, but most don’t. And, while some sidewalks have bicycle lanes, the majority lack them, and many cyclists and pedestrians pay absolutely no attention even to the most clearly marked lane separation. Motor vehicle drivers, on the other hand, defer to pedestrians and cyclists as much as any drivers in the world. The expectation in return, however, is that pedestrians and cyclists will obey traffic lights, which, as elsewhere in Asia, can take a long time to change.
Walking and cycling in Japanese cities, in other words, are pretty safe and always interesting but also at times inefficient and a little annoying.
Japanese cities do have plenty of pedestrianized streets. They tend to be either crowded commercial streets
or else streets that are so narrow a car wouldn’t fit. They will never take you very far.
In other words, most walking and cycling in Japanese cities must take place along regular urban streets.
One factor here is that Japanese cities have relatively few of the kinds of long-distance urban pedestrian facilities that many North American cities have developed over the last few decades, and those that exist rarely pass close to big-city central business districts. The same thing is true in European cities of course, where, just as in Japan, existing dense urbanization makes the creation of such facilities extremely difficult.
There are exceptions to this generalization, however.
One of them is in Kyoto, where, as in many Japanese cities, the city is bisected by rivers, in this case the Kamo River (Kamogawa 鴨川) on the east and the Katsura River (Katsuragawa 桂川) on the west. In their natural state, both rivers sometimes flooded after heavy rains or periods of substantial snow melt, and so both rivers have been subjected to elaborate flood-prevention controls. There are dams upstream and retaining walls or levees in the city, where parts of their floodplains have been parkland for a long time. These parks acquired paths many decades ago, and, in recent years, there have been systematic improvements, which are scheduled to continue.3
The Kamo River paths struck me as being especially impressive and pleasant. There are now paths on both banks for most (but not all) the length of the river, between northern Kyoto and the junction of the Kamo and Katsura, a distance of a little more than 17 km.
The route of the Kamo River path takes you through quite a variety of neighborhoods. Roughly in the path’s middle, it passes next to Kyoto’s CBD on the west bank and several somewhat traditional neighborhoods (like Gion) on the east bank.
In the north. it takes users through relatively low-density sections of the city, and there are parks that have room for soccer fields and tennis courts—and benches for sitting.
In the south. it runs through working-class districts under freeway and railroad bridges that seem a long way from tourist Kyoto.
Over the last few years, government entities have provided the Kamo River path with the kinds of amenities that can be found in urban recreational trails all over the world. There are numerous entrances and exits; occasional bathrooms; distance markers; and a few small art exhibits. Approximately half the path is paved; the rest is hard dirt.
The Kamo River path is used by fairly large numbers of walkers, runners, and cyclists in all seasons, although it rarely seems really crowded. While there are definitely commuters on this path, it seems busiest on pleasant afternoons and on weekends. In other words, while it serves as both a commuting route and a recreational trail, the latter use appears primary.
The Katsura River path in western Kyoto is rougher and requires some bank switches and generally runs through less dense parts of the city. As a result, it attracts fewer users. But it’s much longer than the Kamo River path and extends outside the city in both directions. In fact, it will take you via the Yodo and Kizu Rivers as far as Nara, 35 km away, or else to Osaka, approximately 50 km away. These longer-distance trails tend to run along levees and were probably created originally to facilitate levee-construction. Because the areas along the trails were historically subject to flooding, they are often the location of industries and tend to have low population densities. There are few of the urban features (or amenities) that one finds on the Kamo River path. As a result, while the longer-distance trails are wonderful facilities for people who want to go for 100-km (or longer) bicycle rides, they are perhaps somewhat less useful for commuting or for casual walking.
Nonetheless, in Kansai area (which includes Kyoto, Osaka, and Kobe), there is at least the beginning of the kind of off-road pedestrian/cycling network that can be found in a few North American cities. In Kyoto itself, the Kamo River section of the regional network runs right next to the central business district and provides a genuinely useful alternative to busy city streets and a recreational facility that appears to be widely appreciated.
- This post is largely based on my experiences travelling in Japan this year, in 2011, in 1998, and in 1970 (when I could still make use of the Japanese I learned in courses taken as an undergraduate). I’ve also taken a recent look at a few of the most important titles in the enormous academic literature on Japanese urbanism, for example: André Sorensen, The making of urban Japan : cities and planning from Edo to the twenty-first century. London : Routledge, 2002; The Japanese city / P.P. Karan and Kristin Stapleton, editors. Lexington : University Press of Kentucky, 1997; and Roman A. Cybriwsky, Tokyo, the changing profile of an urban giant. Boston : G.K. Hall, 1991. None of these books has much to say about urban recreational trails. ↩
- J. Calimente, “Rail integrated communities in Tokyo,” The Journal of Transport and Land Use, volume 5, no. 1 (spring 2012), pages 19-32. ↩
- See the planning document: 鴨川下流域整備基本プラン (Kamogawa-ka ryūiki seibi kihon puran). (Kyoto) : 京都府建設交通部河川課 (Kyōto-fu Kensetsu kōtsū-bu kasen-ka), Heisei 22 (2010). Kyoto also has better access to mountain trails than most Japanese cities. ↩