Among the well-known sake shops in Fukuoka, two that often come up are Todoroki Sake Shop, which has locations near Yakuin Station and Sasabaru Station, and Hisaya, located near Fukuoka Airport.

Both places carry a wide selection of sake, including many famous bottles from across Japan. For tourists who love nihonshu, I would definitely recommend visiting at least once.

But today, the place I want to talk about is Todoroki Sake Shop.

Recently, I went out with my family to visit the Todoroki main store near Sasabaru Station. That outing turned into the most pleasant walk I’ve had since moving to Fukuoka. Because of that, I wanted to share the experience here, hoping that the members of Sakagura Miyamoto might someday feel the same kind of joy.

So what is the purpose of going to a sake shop?

Well, of course, it’s to buy nihonshu or shochu.

Some people might go there to buy wine as well.

But what happens if you go and can’t find the sake you wanted?

Would you feel disappointed?

If the purpose of the trip was simply “to get a specific bottle of sake,” then naturally you would feel that way.

But personally, even if our members cannot find the sake they were looking for, I hope that the day itself still becomes one of their best memories of time spent in Japan.

Let me explain what made our visit to the Todoroki main store one of the most memorable outings I’ve had with my family.

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Todoroki Sake Shop

My home is near Hakata Station. To get to the Todoroki main store, you have to go to Sasabaru Station. There is a bus you can take, but I prefer the train.

The train doesn’t come very often—about every 30 minutes—but it has a charming look, and unlike the subway, riding it feels like you’re going on a small trip. That alone makes my heart beat a little faster.

From Hakata Station to Sasabaru Station is only two stops. It’s a short ride, and the fare was about 220 yen.

After getting off the train, it’s about 1 km to the sake shop.

There wasn’t any big event or special attraction along the way, but somehow that single kilometer became the reason I ended up writing this story.

Although Sasabaru Station is close to Hakata, it has a slightly rural feeling.

Even though it was Saturday, there were few people on the streets and not many cars passing by. Occasionally you could see parents walking with their children.

In the stroller, Naru-chan (our baby) kept falling asleep and waking up again. Every time our eyes met, she smiled.

My wife also seemed excited, perhaps because of the train ride. She said it felt like we had traveled somewhere far away.

Our whole family enjoyed the atmosphere around Sasabaru.

Eventually we arrived at the shop.

At Todoroki’s main store, I found several varieties of sake that I personally love—Denshu, Senkin, Miyakanbai, and Akabu, each with three or four different bottles available. There were also countless other popular brands such as Shichida, Ohmine, Yama no Kotobuki, Wakanami, Ippaku Suisei, and Hakurakusei.

The staff members were enthusiastically explaining sake to customers. But it didn’t feel like a sales pitch. It felt more like they genuinely wanted to help people find a good bottle.

And there was one staff member who seemed to truly enjoy that process. That attitude added something extra to the warm atmosphere of the shop.

The interior design was also the most sophisticated I’ve seen in any sake shop.

If you want to create atmosphere, wood is a material you can never regret using—and this shop used it generously. I’m not an expert in architecture or interior design, so I don’t know which types of wood are considered high-quality. But overall the store felt calm, organized, and peaceful.

If I may exaggerate a little, it felt surprisingly serene for a sake shop.

At Todoroki I bought a few bottles for upcoming videos—Senkin, Miyakanbai, and Denshu.

On the way home, we saw several children playing with their parents.

One child was trying to jump rope. From what I saw, the best attempt might have been one jump, but on average maybe 0.3 jumps.

The child kept trying in front of their mother, and the mother stood there cheering, happily watching that “0.3 jump.”

As someone who now has a daughter, I found it joyful to see a child trying so hard. I ended up cheering too.

“Hang in there!”
“You can do it!”

In Japanese, of course.

“がんばれ！”
“行けるよ！”

The child looked at me and smiled.

A little later we passed an elderly woman walking alone. As she walked by, she kept exchanging glances with Naru-chan, so I thanked her. That naturally turned into a bit of small talk.

She asked how many months old the baby was and said Naru-chan looked healthy. She gave us warm compliments even though we had just met.

She seemed like a very kind person.

The conversation lasted maybe twenty seconds at most.

But sometimes those brief conversations with strangers can make an entire day feel better.

The weather that day was beautiful, and our family already felt like we were on a small trip. We were sending positive energy into the world.

And then, as a bonus, we had these small but meaningful conversations with strangers.

When you have experiences like that, it doesn’t really matter whether you managed to buy the exact sake you wanted.

Of course, if someone doesn’t speak Japanese, or if their trip to Japan was specifically about hunting down a certain bottle of sake, then my point might not resonate.

But personally, I hope people—especially members of Sakagura Miyamoto—can step outside purely material ways of thinking.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t pursue money or sake. You absolutely can.

But if, along the way, you keep absorbing invisible things—experiences, love, kindness, hope, and expectations for a brighter future—through the people around you, life becomes far richer than before.

Of course, living every day by always putting others first, treating everyone kindly, loving your life partner more than anyone else, and giving to neighbors before yourself—that’s not easy.

If someone could do that every day, they would probably already be Jesus or one of his disciples.

So if I had to summarize what I want to say in one sentence, it would be this:

“What matters in the journey to a sake shop isn’t the sake—it’s something else.”

When you step away from purely material thinking, your perspective widens.

Pursuing things you cannot see might feel difficult, but the human brain is remarkable. When you change the way you look at something, it quietly offers new angles that make the difficult seem much easier.

If someone asks whether I simply felt good that day because I managed to buy the sake I wanted, I can only answer through imagination, since I haven’t experienced the opposite situation.

But even if I had not gotten the bottle I wanted, I don’t think it would have controlled my mood.

The journey itself was enjoyable. There were plenty of delicious bottles I had never tried before.

And thinking about drinking them slowly with my wife that night, while enjoying what might become the best dinner in Fukuoka, leaves no room for disappointment.

So from now on, maybe once a week—or once every two weeks if I’m busy with videos or blog work—I plan to keep visiting Todoroki with my family.

Next time I go, I’m planning to try the ramen or udon sold inside the station platform.

Even now, as I write this, my heart feels excited thinking about the new memories we’ll make.

In about two years, when my child grows older, she might watch me eating and ask for a bite.

A few years later, she might ask for her own bowl.

Eventually, regular trips to Todoroki might simply become a normal family tradition.

And when the teenage years arrive, she might tell us, “You two go without me.”

Then maybe I’ll go with my partner alone.

Or maybe I’ll take along our second or third child.

As time passes and these events pile up, if our days end not with routine repetition but with the kind of excitement that rises and falls like a roller coaster, then the purpose of going to Todoroki will no longer be “to buy sake.”

It will be “to enjoy life more.”

And honestly, I already feel that way after the first experience.

When that happens, I naturally feel grateful to everyone who shared even a small moment with our family that day.

I feel grateful to Todoroki Sake Shop, to the train, to Sasabaru Station, and even to the road we walked along.

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Hisaya

Hisaya Sake Shop is located near Fukuoka Airport, about 5 km away.

It’s a perfect distance for a run.

Of course, on the way back the bottles are heavy, so I usually ride Charichari, the shared bicycle service.

The area near the airport always amazes me.

Especially when planes come close.

When they’re landing or taking off, if the airplane in the sky suddenly appears huge, I can’t help but feel impressed.

It makes me want to take a picture.

But the moment passes so quickly that I never manage to capture it.

The road to Hisaya is a bit rougher than the one to Todoroki, so pushing a stroller there would be difficult. It might also be uncomfortable for Naru-chan, so I usually go alone.

Still, whenever I see a plane while running those five kilometers, it feels surprisingly refreshing.

After the run, arriving at Hisaya feels like reaching a small reward.

Inside the shop, sake from all over Japan is waiting.

People living overseas may not be able to access it easily, but if you register as a member, you can sometimes buy bottles reserved only for members.

I haven’t bought one of those yet.

But every time I go, I bring my membership card anyway, thinking that the bottles must be excellent.

Recently I bought Nabeshima Blossom Moon there.

It had a gentle pear-like aroma that matched the pink label perfectly. There was also a slight sparkling sensation, making it easy to pair with many kinds of food. I remember enjoying it very much.

Hisaya is also a wonderful sake shop, and the journey there always feels good because of the airport nearby.

But I think the reason I have less to say about it is simple.

I go there alone.

If my perspective on the world were wider, perhaps I could discover many things even on a solitary walk.

But for now, the time I spend experiencing the world with my beloved family allows me to see, feel, and enjoy far more than when I’m alone.

Today I simply shared what I felt during my visits to Todoroki and Hisaya.

I’ve visited several other sake shops, but recently I especially wanted to talk about the journey to Todoroki.

It was that memorable.

It was that enjoyable.

And it’s the kind of feeling I want to experience again and again in the future.

Everything in the world seems to work that way.

When I enjoy things with my wife and child—

music, food, TV programs, sake (well, not for the baby yet!), Nintendo Switch, travel, and even simple walks—

everything becomes many times more enjoyable.

Since around 2023, I’ve been slowly learning why a man like me shouldn’t live without a partner.

Why a family matters.

And since Naru-chan was born, I feel like I’m learning every day how to enjoy the world in a healthier way.

I hope our members can experience this process as well.

Sometimes when I say things like this, people who think purely in material terms respond negatively.

So let me say it again clearly.

I’m not saying, like the Buddhist concept of non-possession, that pursuing material things is wrong.

And I’m not saying that only invisible things—love, forgiveness, hope, and friendship—are the right things to pursue.

I like material things too.

I often think about how I might live this short life with the best house, the best car, the best watch, and the best clothes.

But alongside those thoughts, there is always something else.

The happiness of my family.

And the love I want to give them.

If those thoughts remain only in my mind, they dissolve into the air.

So I try to speak them out loud.

Because I am a Christian, I pray before meals every day.

In that prayer, I express gratitude for love and gratitude for every person I met that day.

By speaking those feelings out loud, they become more concrete.

And slowly, those invisible spiritual values begin to take root in my words and actions.

Todoroki Sake shop URL

This way!

Hisaya Sake shop URL:

This way!