Tokyo-san

So, I'm lying in my box-room in Shinjuko, Tokyo and listening to the rain pour down. It's been raining all day. I had to come home and dry off for a bit as my shoes were getting squelchy. I read that a typhoon has hit the Philippines and I think that part of it stopped off here on it's way there. Now I understand why rubber boots are so popular. I think I have trenchfoot. So, back to Korea....

Later on Thursday
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Next on my list was food. I'd woken up late but hadn't eaten anything and the coffee I had gulped on my way to the subway had worn off. I had sat in the sun with my "Coffee bean and tea leaf" coffee and an old man had shuffled up to me and said something. "English?" I replied and he tried to give me a magazine called "hell fire ". Er, no thanks matey, none of your devil burning christian literature for me. So, I wandered the tiny streets of Insadong. There are thousands of tiny restaurants and I found one with a sign in the window that said "Menu for a vegetarian own sake" so I went there and sat on the floor with all the other Seoul-ians.



I read that Koreans do not like to eat alone, and mealtimes are to be enjoyed with friends and family. No wonder I was getting pitying looks! I ordered some sort of omelette with spring onion, garlic and cabbage. They chopped it all up with scissors! I supped an entire bottle of whatever-something-alcoholic it was that I ordered and felt a bit light headed. I headed off to the Dongdaemun market, which seemed to be filled with huge 'department stores', which were basically 8 floors of tiny shops selling any crap you could imagine. Outside these 'department stores' there seemed to be talent competitions going on, which involved a small stage and crowd of people and some very bad singing.




Me choke you long time
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On friday, I'd planned to get up early but of course I couldn't get my ass out of bed, so I didn't do much. I sat in the sun for a while, on the roof garden of the pool, much to the amusement of the staff (it was cloudy and for them, I suppose it was cold). Then I almost choked to death on a horrible death-trap drink called bubble tea. WTF! I ordered my 'tea', pomegranate flavour, thinking it would be like iced tea and saw that it had the biggest straw in it I had ever seen, about a cm in diameter. So, I slurped some up and kaaaaaaaaching a big ball of jelly stuck in my throat. I was choking and spluttering everywhere.



Later that night, I went out for dinner with German and ended up in a Vietnamese restaurant. Oh. My. GOD. I have never eaten anything so spicy in MY LIFE. I literally ate two mouthfuls before I had to stop. My eyes were watering! Then we went off to another bar and drank lots of beer. Of course, I did what any self respecting person does when out drinking with a Mexican, and that's try to order tequila. Fortunately for me, because I had to get up at the arse-crack of dawn, there was no tequila in that bar and I went home thinking that I had a lucky escape.

Off to Japanito
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My bag weighed in at a hefty 28 kilos but they didn't care. I even got in the verboten queue at the airport but they didn't mind. Korean Air has FOUR classes. I queued up in 'morning calm' whatever that means. The only difference between that and economy seemed to be a big rug saying 'welcome' in front of the check-in desk. Nice. I'd definitely consider paying twice the price for a ticket for that sort of perk. The flight took two hours, most of which was bone-shakingly turbulent. I almost threw up. The plane was jerking from side to side, up and down. Everytime the plane took a dip, the gaggle of little, old Korean ladies next to me shrieked in shock. I was gripping the hand rest good and proper. Talk about white knuckles. When the pilot tells the trolly dollies to strap themselves in, I get scared.

Gimme my biometrics back!
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At the airport the bastards took my photo (although I am sure it was actually an iris scan) and fingerprinted me. GRRRR. They also monitored everyone's temperature with a heat seeking camera to see if we had some sort of horrible disease. On my immigration and customs card, I had to declare how much money I was bringing into the country. As I was waiting in the queue, a man made everyone show him their amounts. At the immigration desk the woman asked me how much money I had AND so did the bloke who searched my bag when I tried to leave the airport. Of course, I am the only person that got stopped, The customs officer soon regretted picking me out. I always get stopped. I must look like a drug smuggler or something. He soon regretted picking on me though because I have a bag that opens like a clam shell and has four zipped pockets inside it.



It was packed full to bursting and, I don't know what he was looking for, but he didn't take anything out, just stuck his hands in and out, which, in a bag that full is hard bloody work. By the time he got to the third pocket he was sweating profously and then said ok, enough. HAHAAH.

Off to get myself a light snack (about 234234235435 pieces of sushi) in the rain now. More later...