There were dreams to unite in person over a drink of sake, but John Winson knew the likelihood of meeting his long lost relative from Japan, in person, was dubious, so a video call was all he expected.
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His second cousin, Kousuke Sawada, a 21-year-old electrical engineering student from Japan, and the initiator of the family-finding journey, had other plans.
The reunion, the first of its kind in 25 years, became one filled with memories forged through laughter, a few hairs cut with a katana, Vegemite and cheese tastings, a motorcycle ride, a sausage sizzle being eaten quite impressively with chopsticks - and a bottle of sake.
The story began in April 2023, when Radford College's Dianne Fitzpatrick, a Japanese language teacher from Canberra, travelled to her sister school in Japan, and was asked by a student at Kure Kosen in Hiroshima if she knew his family.
All student Kousuke had to go on was the handwritten address of Chieko Winson, scribbled on a shipping label previously glued to a box that was sent over a decade ago along with two woollen blankets as a gift to Chieko's sister, Michie Sakuragi.
Hoping to help, Dianne contacted editor of the Bega District News Ben Smyth, which led to journalist James Parker dialling the number of Bega resident John Winson, who was trekking as a grey nomad in Dimboola with his wife Wendy on the Murray Silo Art trail.
When asked if he had any Japanese blood in him, John replied with "My mum," a simple answer that kick-started a reunion he, and everyone involved, assumed was to be virtual, not a 8186 kilometre journey and an in-person interaction.
"A lot to tell, a lot of catching up, it should be over a bottle of sake, but anyway, we can do it over Skype instead," he said in June 2023, unaware of what would eventuate in 2024.
On March 2, 2024, after multiple delayed flights from Haneda airport in Tokyo, followed by a nine hour flight and a six hour drive, a blue Ford Focus pulled up the freshly tarmacked driveway of the Winsons' Bega residence.
Emerging from the car was Dianne and Kousuke, while his civil engineering teacher exited the silver car behind, all with beaming smiles as they approached an equally elated though anxious John and Wendy.
A stack of photographs sitting precariously near the corner of the timber dining room table inside their home, images of family members dating back decades from black and white to colour, were fanned out across the wooden surface, each with a corresponding story.
While John and Wendy couldn't speak Japanese, and Kousuke wasn't fluent in English, communication was done through smiles and laughter as they reacted to imagery, only heightened by a video call made on his pastel blue iPhone.
"Wait, wait, wait, don't have make-up on," the excited and very joyful voice in Japanese echoed forth.
It was Kousuke's mother - John's cousin - Tomoko whose words were intermittently translated by Dianne, and while not every sentence was understood by those in the room, everyone became somewhat multilingual from facial expressions and the rises and falls in her voice from excitement.
The phone call seemed to be the catalyst which made anxiety and nerves disappear, and turned the evening from one of strangers meeting each other for the first time, into a family sharing memories around the dinner table.
Kousuke and his family from Japan gifted John and Wendy a number of presents, from unique erasable pens to pineapple biscuits, and a Samurai-inspired shirt, a clothing item that encouraged a cheeky grin on John as he exited the room only to return with a katana; a Japanese sword he had on display.
"Is it real?" Kousuke asked, mesmerised by the beautiful curved, single-edged blade, before John lifted up a lock of his black hair and gave him a haircut, preceded by bouts of laughter.
Within a small envelope lay a handwritten letter from Tomoko, her heart poured out on the pages as she recalled a dream her mother had remarkably clear - a vision of Aunt Chieko opening the door to their living room and entering.
"Looking back, I think it happened around the time Aunt Chieko passed away. My mother said, 'Maybe Chie-chan passed away, and that's why she came to visit me one last time,'" the letter said.
You could see the emotion on all who read the beautiful words, either because they required a tissue or as they tried to hold back tears as they silently reflected on what was being shared.
John said there had been a bit of anxiety on Friday afternoon and hoped Kousuke wouldn't be disappointed meeting his family.
"It was just until we started talking and talked to his mother he was just a stranger, didn't know how to speak his language, and once we spoke to his mother he sort of just melded into family," John said.
"It's like he morphed into being one of us," he said with a chuckle.
The following day, March 3, what was initially going to be 10 people ended up being 19 at the large family reunion.
Taking a moment to gather his thoughts outside, the luscious green hills of the Bega Valley rising and falling in front of him, Kousuke uttered a few words which summed up the special family event, perfectly.
"Dreams come true."