From the moment we arrived in Uji, we knew we were in the climax of our first trip to Japan. This isn’t a town where most first-time visitors would find themselves, but we felt that adding this to our itinerary was giving us a chance to explore the true heart of Japanese life.
We checked into a ryokan-style hotel, complete with tatami mats, sliding doors, and a view of the Uji River that could honestly make you cry.
After checking in and cooling off from the intense summer heat, we wandered down to the river to dip our feet into the fresh water. We sat there and talked, watching the sun start to dip as other curious tourists around us were snapping pictures.
Later that night, we were lucky to stumble into a cormorant fishing show. We had no idea what was happening, but we quickly learned that what we were observing master fishermen in wooden boats, guiding cormorant birds to pluck fish out of the water, with fire-lit lanterns and the sound of an ancient drum.
That’s Uji. It introduces you to a side of Japan that will make you never want to leave.
The 21st-Generation Tea Master
We came to Uji on a mission to better understand Japanese tea. My husband and I have owned a tea business for over a decade, and it was our very first time exploring a real tea farm. We booked our tea tour through a platform called Wabunka that led us to Kaki-I Tea Farm.
That’s where we met Mr. Kakiuchi, a 21st-generation tea farmer, for a private tour of his tea farms. His family has been cultivating, harvesting, and perfecting tea for over 600 years.
He met us at Uji station in his cozy Toyota with his lovely translator, Yui, who greeted us with a kind smile as he drove us into the depths of Kyoto prefecture.
When we arrived at his tea farm, all you could see were endless green hills, and it was all his. He patiently answered all of our questions about how the tea is grown, picked and processed. We even got to pluck a fresh tea bud for a taste.
The cherry on top of this experience was the chance to visit Mr.Kakiuchi’s traditional Japanese house for a tea tasting.
We sat around his table and had the chance to have a real conversation with endless cups of fresh tea. From gyokuro to matcha to black tea, the whole experience will make you rethink drinking coffee ever again.
You could taste the freshness and the care of a family that has been perfecting the art of growing tea for centuries.
As he poured us different flavours, we chatted about farming, family, and what it means to devote your life to one thing.
A Tea revolution… in the 1700s
During the tour, we have a chance to visit the former home of Soen Nagatani, the inventor of the tea steaming method.
His method not only helped to improve tea’s overall flavour, but it also defined Japanese green tea.
As I stood there on the land where he worked and experimented, I felt this sense of awe, and I was reminded of the power of one person’s ideas and contributions.
Tsuen Tea: 900 Years of Calm
Of course, we couldn’t leave Uji without visiting Tsuen Tea, Japan’s oldest teahouse, which has been in operation since 1106.
Imagine that: a 900-year-old tea house.
I felt so immersed in tea history and culture as I walked into the small store.
We ordered a hojicha soft serve ice-cream and sat by the window overlooking the river, letting the moment sink in.
What made these experiences in Uji so memorable was the realization that all of these businesses had endured so much change through the generations. And yet, they were still standing. Still relevant. Still innovating.
Before Uji, tea was part of my business, my routine and my work.
After Uji?
Tea means so much more.
I got to see what goes into growing and harvesting tea, and how deeply it’s woven into the culture and daily rhythm of life in Japan. I saw the reverence people have for it, not just as a drink, but as a connection to the generations that have passed, to nature and to being present in the moment.
Walking through the tea farms, the processing factory, and a town with more tea shops than I could possibly visit in two days, it all gave me a new kind of respect.
And now, back home, when I make a cup, I think about the hands that picked it. The family who’s been perfecting it for generations. And the timeless river I sat beside while sipping it for the first time in Japan.
Tea will never taste the same, and I’m so glad.
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