A love story that transcends time and borders, this tale will leave you believing in fate.
In the prime of my youth, I embarked on a journey that would change my life forever. I left my job in New Zealand, chasing a dream to study martial arts in Sydney. Little did I know, a chance encounter on a ferry ride would ignite a flame that would burn for decades.
It was 1982, and I had just competed in the World Pugilist Championships in Hong Kong. With a sense of adventure, I hitchhiked my way to Japan, and from there, I planned to travel to Korea, where I heard airfares were more affordable. Back then, the internet was but a distant dream, and so I relied on word-of-mouth and my own curiosity to guide my travels.
As I boarded the ferry to Korea, a beautiful Japanese woman approached me. Her English was limited, but her charm was undeniable. She proposed a deal: if I bought a box of bananas and a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label, I could offset most of my travel expenses in Korea. These items, she explained, were in high demand. Her name was Hitomi, and little did I know, she would become the love of my life.
We struck up a conversation on the ferry, despite our language barrier. I had no Japanese, and she was learning English as a hobby. Hitomi and her friend were on their way to Korea to purchase clothes and accessories to sell back in Japan. Intrigued by their journey, I accepted their invitation to travel together.
We spent a week in Busan and another in Seoul, exploring local temples and visiting Busan Tower. It was a whirlwind adventure, and I couldn't help but feel a deep connection with Hitomi. Her kindness, her cheerful personality, her enchanting voice, and her laugh - she was a true beauty inside and out. One local even remarked that they thought she was an angel.
As we ventured to Takachiho, a famous mountain gorge, the snow and ice prompted us to spend the night in a local tavern. It was there that Hitomi asked me when I would return home. I confessed my growing love for her and my desire to stay longer. To my surprise, she reciprocated my feelings with a simple, yet powerful, "Me too!" We kissed, and it was as soft and delicate as Hitomi herself.
But here's where it gets controversial...
Our time together was short-lived, as my visa expired, and I had to return to Australia. Hitomi accompanied me as far as Narita, and we shared a kiss that felt like forever. We had plans for her to visit Australia, but marriage was not on our minds - it was an unexpected turn of events for both of us.
And this is the part most people miss...
As soon as I returned to Australia, I knew Hitomi was the one. We kept in touch through occasional phone calls and letters, as phone calls were expensive back then. Our communication was a challenge, but the love we shared transcended language barriers.
Hitomi was determined to come to Australia, but her mother was strongly opposed. So, a year later, I made my way back to Japan, hitchhiking to a business hotel in Kyushu. Hitomi was working late, but I waited patiently in my room for her arrival. When she knocked on my door, a year's worth of emotions flooded out as she rushed into my arms. It wasn't the most romantic setting, but I had already made up my mind to propose. And she said yes.
Her mother, however, did not approve. Looking back, I understand her concerns. I was a foreigner, an unknown quantity, and she feared I might take her daughter away. If Hitomi and I were to be together, it meant I would have to move to Japan.
I returned to Australia to begin the visa application process, but her mother, unbeknownst to me, was burning my letters and hanging up whenever I called. It was a heart-wrenching time.
When I finally made my way back to Japan in 1988, I found it impossible to contact Hitomi. She had entered a singing competition, won a recording contract, and was touring the country as a professional singer. Her manager and mother were blocking my attempts to reach her, claiming that Hitomi had obligations and that I would only complicate matters.
This revelation hit me hard. Knowing I wasn't welcome in Miyazaki, I stayed in Tokyo, enrolled in a Japanese language school, and worked odd jobs in pubs, pachinko parlours, and gyms.
Then, one day, a mutual friend called with news: Hitomi is in Tokyo and wants to meet you. We arranged to meet at Shinagawa station, and as we sat in a coffee shop, I was struck by her beauty and maturity. My Japanese had improved, and I was pleased to find that her English had also progressed. We rekindled our love quickly, and our relationship blossomed once more.
In 1990, seven years after our fateful meeting on the ferry, we tied the knot in a beautiful old church in Thames, New Zealand. Hitomi wore a stunning white wedding dress, and later, she changed into a kimono, turning heads in my small hometown. Even Hitomi's mother, who had initially opposed our relationship, wore a kimono, accepting that we were meant to be together.
My parents, too, were smitten with Hitomi. On our wedding day, they said to me, "If you stuff this up, don't bother coming home!"
We built a life together in Japan, raising two sons and supporting each other through life's ups and downs.
Sadly, Hitomi passed away three and a half years ago. I consider myself fortunate that we found each other again after so many years apart. We always believed it was fate that brought us together on that ferry. If we had a choice, we would have married much earlier. For 40 years, I was captivated by her beauty, both inside and out.
So, tell us, what was the moment you knew?
