As I climbed the path surrounded by trees, as if crossing a mountain

We arrived at a place where tea bushes stretched out in neat rows.

The first things that caught my eye in the tea fields were the large fans standing in the middle of the fields and the black netting covering the tea bushes.

This black netting is essential for producing tencha and gyokuro, which are used to make matcha.

Meanwhile, the black netting covering the tea bushes plays a vital role in the production of tencha and gyokuro.

This is a cultivation method known as ‘shade cultivation’, which involves blocking sunlight from reaching the tea leaves for a set period before harvest.

When tea leaves are exposed to sunlight, some of the theanine—a component responsible for umami—

is converted into catechins, which contribute to astringency.

By blocking out the light, this transformation is suppressed, which is expected to enrich the umami flavour and mellow the astringency.

This is how Tencha and Gyokuro, with their mellow sweetness, are produced.

Furthermore, shading increases chlorophyll levels, making the green colour of the tea leaves deeper and more vibrant.

According to Mr Sakurai, for Gyokuro and Tencha, the leaves may be shielded from sunlight for over 20 days.

The tea leaves grown in this way are then processed after harvest

to produce Gyokuro and Tencha.

Furthermore, when Tencha is finely ground, it becomes the Matcha we are familiar with.

In short, the black netting covering the tea fields is a vital cultivation technique

for producing the distinctive colour, aroma and umami unique to Matcha and Gyokuro.

Winters in Ayabe are cold, and snow can sometimes accumulate.

Particularly in spring, when new shoots begin to emerge, frost damage poses a major challenge to tea production.

The ‘anti-frost fans’ installed in the fields are devices that blow warm air from above—warmer than the ground—

to protect the new shoots from frost.

Rather than simply submitting to natural conditions, the tea growers cultivate their tea plants by understanding the local climate

and drawing on their accumulated technical expertise and experience.

Tea cultivation in Ayabe is sustained by the daily efforts of these producers.

Moreover, this tea plantation still harbours tea bushes that have been cultivated for over half a century.

Mr Sakurai, a tea grower, showed us round the tea fields.

The fields still contain tea trees planted around Shōwa 45 (1970), which are now over 50 years old.

Tea trees are perennial plants that, once planted, continue to thrive in the same spot for decades.

Come spring, tender new shoots begin to emerge little by little from the branches that have grown over many years.

It is the young leaves and stems that have sprouted anew that year which are harvested.

These tea trees, which have lived for over half a century, continue to produce new shoots every year whilst their shape is maintained through pruning.

These new shoots are then harvested and, after undergoing the tea-making process, are transformed into tencha or gyokuro—the raw materials for matcha.

In every cup of tea we savour, the passage of time from both the tea trees that have lived for many years and

the fresh leaves that have sprouted that very year is intertwined.

To ensure a continuous harvest of high-quality tea leaves, daily management and long-term maintenance—looking years ahead—are essential.

Mr Sakurai explained the techniques of ‘pruning’, which involves trimming the branches of the tea bushes to maintain their shape, and ‘thinning’, which involves cutting back old branches deeply.

Adjusting the height of the tea bush and the condition of its branches is not merely to make harvesting easier.

It is also a vital task that involves considering what sort of new shoots will be cultivated the following year.

For tencha, well-developed new shoots are required; for gyokuro, shoots that are just right for harvesting.

The method of cultivating the tea bush varies depending on the type of tea being produced.

At Mr Sakurai’s tea plantation, the first flush of the year is harvested mainly once a year in spring.

For the tea plants, having their new shoots plucked places a significant strain on them, as it requires them to use up the nutrients they have stored.

If harvesting is repeated too frequently and the tea plants are unable to recover fully, it becomes difficult for them to produce high-quality new shoots the following year.

For this reason, once Mr Sakurai has finished harvesting the first flush, he allows the tea plants to rest,

and places great importance on giving them time to build up their strength for the following spring.

Harvesting usually takes place from early May to early June.

Afterwards, the branches and leaves are allowed to grow, and whilst the plants store nutrients through photosynthesis, preparations are made to nurture the following year’s new shoots.

Once a year, the most important new shoots are harvested, whilst the rest of the season is devoted to nurturing the plants for the coming year.

This is a cultivation method that prioritises the healthy growth of the tea plants and the quality of the tea over short-term harvest yields.

I understand that Mr Sakurai moved to Ayabe around 20 years ago and began working in tea cultivation.

Not all of the tea fields in this area were cultivated by Mr Sakurai from the outset.

The tea bushes planted by previous growers and tended with care over many years are now being taken over by the next generation of farmers.

At the same time, tea-producing regions face challenges such as an ageing farming population and a shortage of successors.

Cultivating tea bushes is not merely a matter of producing a crop.

It involves the ongoing endeavour of protecting the land, carrying on the work of our forebears, and passing it on to the next generation.

Tea bushes planted over half a century ago are still sprouting new shoots today.

Their very presence seemed to quietly tell the story of the time that has been accumulated through tea cultivation in Ayabe.

When people hear of Kyoto tea, isn’t ‘Uji tea’ what springs to mind for many?

Uji is renowned as one of Japan’s leading tea-producing regions.

Tracing its long history reveals a fascinating story linked to Ayabe.

In the Kamibayashi area of Ayabe City, there once stood ‘Kamibayashi Castle’, which served as the stronghold of the Kamibayashi clan.

According to the information boards on site, the Kamibayashi clan is descended from the Akai clan, local warlords of Hikami District in Tamba,

and it is said that Akai Hideie, who distinguished himself whilst serving Ashikaga Takauji, was the first to adopt the surname Kamibayashi.

In the donation register for the reconstruction of Kōmyō-ji Temple in the second year of Tenbun (1533), eleven members of the Kanbayashi clan are listed as prominent donors, suggesting that they wielded considerable influence in this region.

However, following a period of civil strife, the clan dispersed to various parts of the country.

The local information board notes that one branch of the clan began a tea business in Uji and came to be known as the Kanbayashi tea merchant family.

The long-established Uji tea merchant ‘Kanbayashi Shunsho Honten’ is also a tea shop with roots in the history of the Kanbayashi clan.

During the Edo period, the Kanbayashi family flourished as ‘ochashi’ (tea masters) serving the shogunate and daimyo, playing a vital role in the history of Uji tea through tasks such as managing tea plantations, processing tea and ensuring its quality.

With the advent of the Meiji era and the end of the shogunate, their role as tea masters came to an end; however, by transitioning their business to that of tea merchants, they have carried on this legacy to the present day.

Today, Uji tea is renowned throughout the world.

The footprints of the clan that shaped its history remain in the mountainous region of Ayabe.

Even the tea leaves grown in Mr Sakurai’s tea fields are not finished simply because they have been harvested.

The freshly picked buds are transported to the tea factory, where they are processed using methods suited to each type of tea.

Tencha, the raw material for matcha, is made by drying steamed tea leaves without rolling them. On the other hand, Gyokuro and Kabusecha are produced by shaping the steamed tea leaves whilst rolling them.

The tea leaves produced in this way are passed from the producer to the tea merchant, where they undergo further sorting, finishing and quality adjustment.

The tea merchant assesses the characteristics of the tea leaves and refines the flavour and aroma using a technique known as ‘gougumi’ (blending), which involves combining multiple types of tea leaves as necessary.

From Mr Sakurai’s account, it became clear that tea production is not a process completed by the growers alone, but is underpinned by long-standing relationships of trust with tea merchants.

Those who cultivate the tea in the fields, and those who assess the value of the leaves and bring them to market as a finished product.

It is the combination of their respective skills and experience that brings a single cup of tea into being.

Ayabe is a tea-producing region that has received high acclaim at national tea competitions.

In particular, it has a proven track record of excellence in the field of ‘kabuse-cha’—tea grown by covering the tea leaves for a certain period prior to harvest.

At the 78th National Tea Competition in 2024, Ayabe City won first place in the Kabuse-cha category of the Production Area Awards.

The following year, at the 79th National Tea Competition in 2025, a producer from Ayabe City received the Minister of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries Award in the Kabuse-cha category, whilst Ayabe City was selected as the runner-up in the Production Area Awards.

In 2026, Ayabe City once again won the Production Area Award in the ‘Kabuse-cha’ category at the 80th National Tea Competition.

In the individual category, a tea producer from Ayabe City also received the Minister of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries Award in the ‘Kabuse-cha’ category.

These accolades demonstrate the skills and dedication that producers have cultivated over many years to enhance the quality of their tea.

Although Ayabe tends to be overshadowed by the fame of Uji tea, it is home to tea-growing techniques of which the whole country can be proud.

The people who once travelled from Kamibayashi-go in Tamba to Uji, and who played a pivotal role in the history of tea.

And today, the producers who cultivate tea plants in the mountainous regions of Ayabe, striving to pass on their tea fields to the next generation.

Although the eras and the nature of their work differ, there is a common endeavour to connect the land and its people through tea.

Even in a single cup of tea that we drink without a second thought, the time and skill of those who cultivate it, those who process it, and those who deliver it are all woven together.

Visiting the tea fields of Ayabe was also a journey that allowed us to re-examine the history of Uji tea from a different perspective.

After finishing our walk through the tea fields, guided by Mr Sakurai, we made our way to a small table set up right beside the fields.

There, we found tea bowls, a tea whisk and some vibrant green matcha laid out.

Mr Sakurai was going to prepare the matcha for us right there and then,

using ground tencha made from tea leaves he had grown himself.

First, he poured a small amount of hot water into the tea bowl containing the matcha and stirred it carefully.

Once it had become a smooth, deep green colour, he added more hot water and began whisking with the chasen.

Soon, a fine foam spread across the surface of the tea bowl.

Sipping matcha produced from the tea fields right before my eyes, whilst gazing out at those very fields.

Time seemed to pass a little differently here than when I usually drink matcha at a tea house in town.

I take the tea bowl in my hand and slowly sip the tea.

A crisp, refreshing flavour.

However, on this particular day, it was not just the taste that lingered in my mind.

The anti-frost fans that protect the new shoots from early spring frosts.

The black netting that blocks out the sunlight before harvest, allowing the umami flavour of the tea leaves to develop.

The tea bushes that have put down roots in the same soil for over half a century, producing new shoots every year.

And Mr Sakurai, who continues to tend these trees whilst cherishing the once-a-year harvest.

What I saw, heard and learnt in the tea fields comes flooding back to me through a single cup of matcha.

Before a single cup of matcha is ready, a great deal of time and effort—much of which we never see—has been painstakingly invested.

Tea production in Ayabe is imbued not only with the natural environment of the region but also with its long history.

The Kamibayashi clan, who once had their base in this area, later moved to Uji, where they went on to develop the tea industry.

Even today, producers in Ayabe continue to cultivate high-quality tea, drawing on their individual skills and experience.

Behind every cup of matcha lies the local climate and landscape, the lives of the people, and a culture passed down through the generations.

There is a difference between savouring matcha without knowing this background and savouring it after actually visiting the region and hearing the producers’ stories.

Even if it is the same matcha, what you perceive from that single cup is bound to be different.

Visiting tea fields, touching the tea bushes, and listening to the words of the producers.

And then, savouring the matcha cultivated in that very land.

It is not merely a matter of tasting matcha; it is also an experience of the passage of time in that land.

That cup of matcha I enjoyed in the mountains of Ayabe taught me that, beneath the familiar surface of matcha, lies a world of rich nature and the daily lives of the people.

From a single cup of matcha, the story of that land begins.

The time I spent in the tea fields of Ayabe allowed me to feel just that.