Further Craziness

Less an update, and more a series of images; by degrees interesting, mundane, beautiful and disturbing. Not really in a talking mood, but I'll try to introduce these before I forget what they are.



Dongdaemun: a good place to start an adventure in Seoul. Curious, fascinating even, without being overwhelming. Just try to go when it isnt raining like the Bible, because street markets lose some of their charm when all the stalls are closed.





Yes, you can buy just about anything in Dongdaemun.



Almost walked right past this old shrine, tucked quietly away amongst stalls and stores.



Apparently it's dedicated in part to Guan Yu, the Chinese general/god of war/all around bad-fella. The shrine proper was closed, and very dark, hence this photo looks terrible, but I couldn't pass up the shot.

Speaking of things stumbled upon - this from a group of pet stores (like ten in a row) we walked past



At least one of these in almost every pet store. Awesome.



Clockwise from top right: birds, ducklings, more birds, hedgehogs. Sure they're cute when they're little.



Little wee shark fish? Check.

Finally, my travelling companion insisted we inspect Giocat - the worlds first and only cat cafe. Here you can drink iced coffee while watching the antics of a few dozen cats. The cats seem surprisingly happy, with plenty of space, privacy and areas to explore and escape to. Shame about the smell (a little catty).

King of the Subway; He Travels Where He Will

Or: How I learned to stop worrying and love being a little lost all the time.



Yesterday I decided to check out this place 'Seoul' that everyone has been talking about over here. Turns out it's kind of a big place, so I didn't quite get to see it all, but I had a pretty interesting day.

I left my apartment with camera, wallet and a scrawled sheet of instructions reading "138- Uijongbu, turns left 2ce, 2nd time get off and walk back. no.1 line -> dongdaemun". First stop, Family Mart to buy a T-money card. This is a sort of prepay card for buses and subways in Korea, and makes everything half the price and a million times more convenient.



Next, the bus stop on the main road, where I will find my 138 to Uijongbu city. The rid is relatively smooth and only a little terrifying. The driver insists on gesturing wildly while talking on his cellphone. I'm fairly sure this is not the point of hands-free calling. An hour or so later, I'm at the subway station in Uijongbu, One of the many satellite cities at risk of being entirely swallowed by the ever-expanding Seoul. Of course at this point it's more of a superway (read: train) because the tracks don't go underground until they enter Seoul proper.

The system for paying and riding the subway can only be described as entirely painless. The fares are absurdly low, deducted automatically from my new plastic friend, and partially refunded automatically if i get off the train at a nearby stop. The train is cool, dark, not particularly crowded, and most of the useful information is written in English. There is an interesting view from the superway, and the subway is calm and relaxing. Fifty minutes later, I am in Dongdaemun, and all of a sudden there is a city all around me.



Sights, sounds and smells. Oh god the smells. Roadside stalls are a specialty in Dondaemun, and entire roads are essentially closed to traffic, becoming markets by sheer force of will. It seems everyone is selling wallets, belts, fans and batteries. There are rows and rows of shoes set out on low benches. There is a cobbler. There are food and drink vendors, ranging from a large tub of tea with paper cups and a hand-drawn sign, to a full on restaurant in a tent, with plastic furniture.



There is an actual restaurant that smells so strongly of fish (dried, I think, or drying) that I consider crossing the street.



A day of firsts for me in Korea... I see my first army base. I've seen plenty of trucks, jeeps and young men in fatigues around Pocheon, but hadn't spotted the base about five minutes out of town. I see my first fight in the street in broad daylight. An old man assures me in Korean that it's not serious, before managing "boxing" in English and a contagious laugh. I see my first crippled beggar, and my first man in a dress.

Food is on offer, and it is consumed. A cup of very odd tea with ice, necessitated by the heat. Some sort of fried bread in a cup, because why not right? And finally, curiosity overcomes me, and I must know the Lotteria (Korean fast food!) Red and White Shrimp Burger.



Think Filet-o-Fish with chili sauce, twice the size for $5 all up. Also, they give you a nifty pager-like gadget to tell you when your order is ready. I waited 35 seconds, and wondered why I had gone to sit down. Still, neat idea.



Having had my fill of insanely cheap things I don't want to buy, I decide to test out this subway thing or real. How do transfers work? Does it cost more? What if I don't really know where I'm going? So I set off to find a place i know the general location of, using subway maps and the fact that I have way too much time on my hands. After transferring to the wrong line, getting off at the wrong stop, and finally leaving the station travelling in the wrong direction ("three blocks down, three to the left, where the $*%@?... oh") (not a complete loss, as I did find what I can only describe as a luxury scooter that was pretty pimping)



I arrive at my destination.



The shop's closed, but I chalk it up as a victory. ...Yeah, it's the only Games Workshop store in Korea, so? It was the only thing I happened to know the location of in Seoul. Sue me.



And that's pretty much it. Two hours home, and back to work in the morning.

Digs

Onward- to Pocheon. "where nature and people meet"

The city has the feel of a quaint little mountain town, into which someone dropped a chunk of ageing distopian megalopolis. Neither urban, nor rural, and about as far from suburban as you can get, Pocheon is something i have never seen before. It is a tiny little city.

My apartment is on the 14th floor, of 22. Not sure how many appartments to a floor, but guess at twenty. There is an identical building right next door. A few buildings down, there is some sort of small scale farm / herb garden.



My first morning, I am awakened by what I can only describe as the sounds of life drifting through my fourtenth storey window. Cars, yes, but also children, parents, animals, and what I assume is some kind of advertisement; a puplic service announcement delivered by megaphone. It's not that people here are loud all the time. It's just that I guess everyone is loud some of the time, and about a thousand people live next door.

But then, of course, there's the view.

Starting at the beginning: cliche or timeless classic?

Auckland to Sydney. Tedium struggles with excitement and terror for control of my senses. I pray for turbulence to tip the scales. Anything is better than abject boredom.

When I arrive, I wonder if there has been some mistake. This airport looks a lot like the last one. I buy a shake from McDonald's. It tastes of carefully calculated and endlessly refined sameness. I have expended my reserves of Australian currency. It is time to go.

Asiana has this airline thing down. The seats are comfortable, meals palatable (still airline food) and the hostesses unnaturally polite and groomed to within an inch of their lives. I fill the 11 hours of the flight by watching movies. Highlights to follow.

Jeon Woochi - the latest Korean kung-fu and special effects driven comedy action adventure about a Taoist monk travelling through time to battle demons with the help of a dog man and three stupid gods. There is a love interest. What's not to like?

Le Grande Chef 2: Kimchi Battle - The premise: a brother and sister compete in a national competition to create the best kimchi. Ah yes, I was just in the mood for a lighthearted comedy. This is not one. As it turns out, LGC2:KCB is dramatic appraisal of the universal beauty and pain of motherhood, its role in the Korean national character, and its power to unite. It is moving. I am moved. Also, surprised.

And then I am here, and here is Korea. More specifically, here is Incheon International Airport. You really must see it. From the inside, it feels like it could go on forever, all corridors and cavernous spaces, full of people, passports and baggage carousels. You hardly notice the guards, wandering around in pairs, assault rifles tucked discretely under their arms. From the outside, it is similarly impossible to get a sense of the scale of the place. It is simply too vast. There is nowhere to stand and see it all at once.

It's about time I wrote some of this down

I'm in Korea, which is strange. Going on two weeks now.

Since the idea of trying to fit my thoughts and experiences over the past few weeks into some kind of organised or even coherent narrative fills me with dread, I decided it would be best to only do so once.

What follows will likely be an intermittent series of ramblings of little value to anyone. But at least the ramblings will be freely available, and not clogging up your inbox.