The Rustic Town of Yuasa, Birthplace of Japanese Soy Sauce #explorejapan #yuasa #soysauce

Leaving Shirahama for Wakayama, we had a few hours before dark, so we decided to take a detour to Yuasa.

Yuasa is the birthplace of Japanese soy sauce and a peaceful, beautiful town. As early as the Edo period, residents here began using local soybeans and natural spring water to brew unique soy sauce, and many traditional soy sauce breweries still follow these ancient methods. We intended to visit the Kadocho Soy Sauce Brewery, but the museum had just closed by the time we arrived. Fortunately, the small antique shop across the street was still open. Stepping inside felt like leaving the industrialized era and entering a place frozen in time. We bought a beautifully packaged bottle of soy sauce as a souvenir and tried a small cup of soy sauce ice cream, which had a subtle soy sauce flavor, sweet and rich—much tastier than I’d imagined.

After parking, we strolled leisurely through the old streets of Yuasa. The street preserves many Edo-era buildings, with rows of low wooden houses on both sides. It was around four or five o’clock, and most of the shops had already closed. The town was incredibly quiet; the few open shops seemed like scenes from a silent film, quietly carrying on their trades in these old-time shops, unaware that centuries later, we’d be glimpsing fragments of their lives.

We wandered into a miso shop, where an elderly woman was looking over her accounts, and a younger woman was packaging miso. They seemed startled by my sudden appearance, as if busy in their own era, only to be momentarily taken off course by the abrupt intrusion of a modern visitor. The rich aroma of miso in the shop was something no supermarket-bought miso could compare to—it had a unique recipe, years of aging, the warmth of handcrafting, and the depth of tradition.

As we were about to leave after finishing our tour of the old street, the sun was setting over the coastline, casting a red glow over everything around us. We drove to the Kiihara Coast, where a few elderly locals were already standing by the stone embankment, taking photos of the sunset. They were clearly locals who often came to watch the sunset together, chatting softly as they took photos. We joined them, parked the car, and sat on the stone embankment to watch the sunset.

The sun was about to sink into the sea, covered by thick clouds above. It looked like a golden fried egg sandwiched between two slices of bread, bright and inviting. The sunset painted the sky and sea red, the waves shimmering, and one fisherman had chosen the perfect spot to fish, quietly casting his line amidst the beautiful sandwich of sky and sea.

In Yuasa, at the edge of this ancient village, beside the water with five or six people, you can sit quietly for an hour and witness one of the most beautiful sunsets in the world.