In late May, I made my second visit to Bulguksa Temple, one of Korea’s most famous Buddhist temples. The first visit was in 1984, when I was studying Korean. The Korea I knew in 1984 came to mind as I walked around the temple and its extensive grounds. As I ended my visit and took the bus back to town, my thoughts focused on the changes in and problems with tourism in Korea.

In 1984, I visited Bulguksa Temple with two Japanese friends who had come to Korea by ferry from Shimonoseki to Busan. We met up in Busan, stayed the night and then went to Gyeongju the next day. In 1984, the Cold War was still very hot and Korea had no diplomatic relations and very little trade with either China or Russia -- then the Soviet Union. The U.S. and Japan were far and away Korea’s most important trading partners. More than half of all foreign tourists came from Japan, and the figure was higher in Busan and Gyeongju.

I remember being surprised at the number of Japanese tourists in Bulguksa Temple in 1984. My friends wanted to see Korea and felt somewhat let down when they ran into so many Japanese tourists. Thirty-two years later, Japanese can still be heard in Bulguksa Temple, but the most prominent foreign language during my visit was Chinese. Like the Japanese before them, groups of Chinese tourists listened to the guide’s explanation before fanning out to take snapshots.

In 1984, my friends and I traveled using regular city buses instead of tourist buses. I did the same this time, but noticed the large parking lots for tourist buses near Bulguksa Temple. Behind the parking lots were shops and restaurants for tourists. As I looked at the parked buses, I was reminded of the annoying tourist buses in Seoul that park illegally on streets near major tourist sites. The police seem unable to control the buses, despite repeated complaints from angry residents and shopkeepers.

The parking lots for tourist buses near Bulguksa Temple are historic in their own right because they symbolize the “tourist bus paradigm” of tourism that continues to this day. The paradigm grew in the late 1960s and 1970s after Korea reestablished diplomatic relations with Japan. The government of Park Chung-hee needed foreign exchange to fuel its drive for industrialization, and Japanese tourists were an excellent source of foreign exchange. Bulguksa Temple was restored and rebuilt from 1969 to 1973, and the infrastructure for tourism was built at the same time. The infrastructure helped market Gyeongju as a “historic city.”

Tourist buses helped link various sites in Gyeongju together into a packaged day that fit the needs of weekend tourists from Japan. Tourists could move between sites quickly with stops for shopping and eating along the way. The paradigm was a logical response to a geographic reality that is repeated in many other places around the globe.

Koreans in 1984 described their nation as a “mid-developed” country that would hopefully emerge as a “developed” country after the 1988 Seoul Olympics. History shows that this hope was largely fulfilled. Life in mid-developed Korea was more inconvenient than now. Hillside slums were common in Seoul and public transportation was crowded. Koreans were busy working, which limited leisure and cultural opportunities. The government was a dictatorship and freedom of expression was limited.

If Korea in 1984 was mid-developed, Korea in the early 1970s was even less developed. The tourist bus paradigm was also a practical response to the economic and social realities of the time. It provided a sanitized Korean experience in a degree of comfort that few Koreans at the time could experience.

Korea in 2016 is a developed country and its infrastructure is envied across many nations that have been developed much longer. Travel in Korea in 2016 is safe and convenient, and the tourist bus paradigm looks sadly outdated, particularly in the center of Seoul. The subway and bus network in Seoul is very dense and travel times are short.

What should be done? Ban tourist buses in the center of Seoul. Markets do not like regulation, but they respond well once it happens. A ban would force tourist companies to adapt to the new reality. Some might go bankrupt, but other businesses, such as local shops, would benefit from increase tourist foot traffic. A ban would help reduce traffic congestion and pollution in tourist areas and nearby residential areas. It would also improve the “sidewalkscape” in the most important historic areas of the city while sending a strong message that Seoul is serious about becoming a walkable city.

By Robert J. Fouser

Robert J. Fouser, a former associate professor of Korean language education at Seoul National University, writes on Korea from Ann Arbor, Michigan. -- Ed.