Remember those strawberries you had in Tokyo? The ones stacked on a fruit sandwich, or resting on top of a parfait so beautifully you almost didn’t want to eat them — and then you did, and quietly lost your mind?

I know. Same.

Here’s the thing most travel guides won’t tell you: the number one town for growing those strawberries — genuinely #1, by production, every year since 1994 — is not tucked away in some far corner of Japan. It’s a day trip from Tokyo. About 90 minutes out. You could go tomorrow.

Its name is Moka, in Tochigi. I’ve been, and I left a little obsessed. So let me show you why this is exactly the kind of trip I’d send a friend on.

Why This Town

So why Moka, of all places?

Because when I say “#1 strawberry town,” I mean it in the flat, boring, factual way — the way I like it. Moka has held the top spot in Japan for strawberry production, by both value and volume, every single year since 1994. That’s not a marketing line. That’s the government’s data. (One honest footnote, because I care about getting this right: that streak actually began with former Ninomiya, a strawberry town that merged into Moka in 2009 — so it’s a #1 title Moka inherited and has carried ever since.)

Tochigi as a prefecture is Japan’s strawberry heartland, and Moka is its beating center. The variety you’ve probably already fallen for in Tokyo — tochiotome, small, deep red, the kind that tastes like it was invented rather than grown — was born here. The soil, the winter sun, the temperature swing between day and night: it all conspires to make the berries sweeter and denser than they have any right to be.

Here’s the thing that actually surprised me, though: Moka isn’t one farm. It’s dozens. And ask any local and they’ll tell you — each farm’s strawberries taste a little different. Same variety, same soil, same season. But the water, the harvest timing, the temperature inside the greenhouse, the hands doing the work — it all shows up in the fruit. This is the kind of place where “strawberry” stops being one word and starts being a spectrum.

Here’s the catch, though. Growing strawberries in Moka is one thing. Opening the greenhouse doors to visitors is another. Most farms here quietly ship their berries to markets and never see a tourist. Only a handful run pick-your-own experiences, and those spots fill up fast. Which means when you do get inside one of the open greenhouses in Moka, you’re not just eating Japan’s #1 strawberry. You’re eating one that most people who fly to Japan never actually get to.

I went in early spring, half expecting the “#1” label to be tourist board talk. It wasn’t. The first strawberry I picked, still slightly warm from the greenhouse air, tasted like someone had turned the volume up on every strawberry I’d eaten before. I stood there in a plastic house, holding a stem, and thought: oh. Okay. I get it now.

That’s why Moka. Not because a poster said so. Because the strawberry told me.

Getting There

Getting to Moka from Tokyo is almost annoyingly easy. From Tokyo Station, take the Tohoku Shinkansen to Utsunomiya (about 50 minutes). From there, you have two real options, and I’ll be honest about both.

Option one — trains all the way. From Utsunomiya, switch to a local train — either the JR Utsunomiya Line or the charming, slightly retro Moka Railway — and you’re in Moka in another 40 minutes or so. Door to door, plan on about 90 minutes. Simple, no driving, and if you have a Japan Rail Pass the shinkansen leg is covered.

Option two — rent a car at Utsunomiya. If you’re planning to actually visit strawberry farms (which, hi, you are), this is the easier way. The farms are spread out around Moka, some tucked away, and hopping between two or three in an afternoon is much smoother by car. It’s the same left-side rules as the UK or Australia, quieter roads than Tokyo, and a car in Tochigi genuinely opens the day up.

My honest take: train if you want zero logistics, car if you want the best strawberry day. Both work. One small tip regardless: if you can travel on a weekday, do. Weekends bring domestic families out; weekdays give you the greenhouses more or less to yourself.

The Strawberry Experience

First, the honest reality: strawberry picking in Moka takes a little planning. Farms are open roughly from January through May, but the sweetest window is January through March. Weekends fill up fast. Book ahead — if a farm says you need a reservation, believe them. This isn’t the kind of trip you wing.

Here’s what makes Moka special once you’re in the greenhouse: you don’t just eat “strawberries.” You eat a spectrum.

• Tochiotome — the classic, the small, deep red one you almost certainly met in Tokyo. The dependable star.
• Tochiaika — the newer showstopper. Big, dense, aggressively sweet. If you thought “surely this is peak strawberry,” tochiaika will politely disagree.
• Tochihime — the one to hunt for. The “phantom strawberry”: too delicate to ship, so you can basically only eat it here, the moment it’s picked.
• Milky Berry — if you’re lucky, a pale white strawberry with pink freckles. Almost tastes like a different fruit.

Which farm should you actually go to? Moka has a handful of official pick-your-own farms, and most are lovely. But if you’re asking me for a personal pick: my first recommendation is Twins Farm — new, clean and modern, with strawberries at raised (waist-height) tables so you’re not crouching in mud, and a wider range of varieties than most. Being newer, they also tend to be more open to first-time foreign visitors — worth asking ahead about English support.

If Twins Farm is fully booked, two more I’d point you at: Igashira Sightseeing Strawberry Farm — run by the local agricultural co-op, well-organized and established — and Berry’s Baton, which grows tochihime and is a favorite with locals in the know. And for the insider move: Inosan-chi no Ichigo Farm, legendary locally, one of the few places you can eat tochihime as much as you want — but reservations are by phone, in Japanese, so you’ll want a Japanese-speaking friend or a hotel concierge to call. If not, don’t force it; the others will still leave you deeply happy.

Once you’re inside: go in the morning, when the biggest, ripest berries get picked first. Pick the ones where the seeds sit slightly into the flesh — that’s fully ripe — and eat from the tip toward the stem. The tip is sweetest.

And one more thing. Most farms will offer you renyuu — sweetened condensed milk — to dip your berries in. It’s a whole cultural thing. It’s also, according to the locals in Moka, exactly what you shouldn’t do with a strawberry this good. The people who grow these berries eat them plain. After tasting a fully ripe Moka strawberry, you’ll understand why: you’d be covering up the very thing you came for. So for at least the first few berries, eat them naked — just the fruit, warm from the greenhouse. You’ve come to Japan’s #1 strawberry town. Let the strawberry take the lead.

Where to Stay

Honestly? Moka is a day trip. You don’t need to stay overnight to do it right. But if you’re weaving it into a bigger Tochigi loop — Nikko, Mashiko pottery, the mountains — then Utsunomiya is the smart base: the prefectural capital, about 40 minutes from Moka, with the widest range of hotels in the region. It’s also, famously, Japan’s gyoza capital, so dinner is a thing to look forward to after a day of strawberries.

For a quieter, more traditional stay, look at hot spring inns in the Nikko area, roughly an hour further out — which turns Moka into part of a two- or three-day slow trip through Tochigi rather than a single-day dash.

Nearby

Just a short ride from Moka is Mashiko — one of Japan’s most famous pottery towns, a warren of small kilns and shops where you can watch potters at work or try throwing a pot yourself. Berries and pottery, in the same day, in the same corner of Tochigi. Or, if you love old trains, the Moka Railway runs a real steam locomotive on weekends.

And if you can spare more than a day: Tochigi is Japan’s #2 milk-producing prefecture — behind only Hokkaido, and the top in all of Honshu — so the soft-serve and dairy here are a quiet miracle most guides skip. Add an onsen night in Nikko or Kinugawa and you’ve got a two- or three-day loop that hits Japan’s #1 strawberries, dairy from the #2 dairy prefecture, and a proper hot spring — a much better use of your third or fourth trip to Japan than another day in Shibuya.

Practical Tips

• Season: January–March for the sweetest, most concentrated berries.
• Book ahead: reservations are essential, especially weekends and peak season.
• Go in the morning: around 10am, for first pick before the crowds.
• What to wear: greenhouses run warm — layers, and clothes that won’t cry if a strawberry bleeds on them.
• Cash & cards: most farms take both, but bring some cash just in case.