OK, I’ve been getting lazy with this blog. I’ve gone from
writing two a week to one every couple of weeks…sometimes. The last few weeks
here in Korea have been unbearably hot and humid. Yesterday it reached 34°C but, with the humidity it supposedly felt like 40°C. I’m not sure how they work that
out, temperature is fairly definitive. There are no added clauses on a
thermometer but, at some time this week a Korean has said that it currently
feels 40°C and I’m not going to argue with an Asian who deals with numbers.
Last weekend we went to the 17th Boryeong Mud
Festival, an event that I’m sure you can work out what happens from the title.
People come from far and wide to cover themselves from head to toe in mud. My
dirty weekend away with the missus got off to a terrible start. As she is
Korean, I left her to organise the accommodation, travel, all the important
organisational stuff. She just told me where to be at what time. “Meet at 10:20
at the Express Bus Terminal Station, Nambu Terminal”. OK, easy enough, I’ve
been to that station plenty of times.
I met a few friends for some drinks the day before on
Friday. After some drinks that afternoon I met some other friends and we went
to a house party organised by some people we met at Korea Burn a few weekends before.
A few too many drinks later I headed home. As I woke very hungover, I realised
that I was late. I had to gain consciousness, evaluate my life, pack a bag, and
get the subway to EBT Station. As I was packing I realised I didn’t have my
wallet. Fuck! Where is it?! It turned out that I’d left it at the party, and
Somi had messaged me to tell me that she picked it up as she left. Good and bad
news, at least I haven’t lost my wallet but, now I don’t have a wallet for the
weekend. I searched around my apartment and found ₩2,000 (£1.20), enough money
to get the subway to meet Angie. As I evaluated my life I was at a low point, I
was enduring a violent hangover and I felt that I was going to be sick at any
moment. I put a plastic bag in my back pocket in case of any impromptu vomiting
on the subway. Always thinking.
I arrived at Express Bus Terminal Station (no vomit) on time
but couldn’t find the Nambu terminal. I searched for ages but finally had to
ask. The lady at the information desk told me it was two stations down the
line. Bollocks. I’m at the wrong station. No time, no wi-fi, no wallet, no
money, no idea. The low point hit lower. Finally, I got wi-fi and told Angie.
All the guys we were travelling with made the coach but Angie had to go and
meet her clueless boyfriend. I asked her if she was angry, she said no but she
definitely was.
We got a coach from EBT and headed for Boryeong. We arrived
and it was time to get muddy. I had heard that the festival was just filled
with boozy foreigners, and not to let the reputation down it was time to start
drinking again. The last hangover had just worn off but I had a feeling I was
in the process of starting a new one. The festival was fun; obstacle courses,
mud slides, mud wells, a music stage, and all the events were beside the beach.
We got a lot muddier but I think we were all too muddy to
operate a camera. Never mind.
We went back to the pension and spent the evening playing
drinking games. So many drinking games I can’t even remember them all. We also
played the longest game of Ring of Fire that I ever witnessed. We played the entire
game, as the last card drawn was the 4th King. We played so long
that we actually ran out of alcohol. An impressive feat.
After the drinking games we went down to the beach. As we
frolicked on the sand and watched the fireworks I had one of the most random
moments of my trip so far. Sometimes on your travels things just start to
become normal. Living in Korea isn’t weird anymore, it’s just normal life. But
at 3am on Boryeong beach I was watching middle-aged Korean couples doing the
waltz, as someone blared classical music from their car. I had an “oh shit, I’m
in Korea” moment.
It was a fun weekend all round.
The following weekend Karl and I went indoor fishing. I
didn’t even know that was a thing. We had discussed going fishing for a while
but in this intense heat you want to spend more time inside enjoying the
delights of air conditioning.
We went in and the room was dark, this was to stop fisherman
targeting the larger fish as the fish were electronically tagged and by
catching the larger ones you could win a prize. It wasn’t long before we were
both baited and had our rods in the water (that’s not a euphemism). It took all
of about 15 seconds before there was a fish on the end of my line. I felt a mix
of joy and accomplishment by catching a fish, I was hardly a match for Jeremy
Wade or David Seaman but, still. But as I pulled the fish out of the water it
started splashing and I felt terrified, and began squealing at the thought of
unhooking the fish. Luckily there was no one else there to judge our lack of
manliness. Karl plucked up the courage to touch it and we released it back in
the water.
I think I liked the idea of fishing but in reality I’m too
much of a coward to deal with a harmless fish. It’s one of my believies.
I was catching so many fish it was becoming unpleasant, the repetition
of joy followed immediately by terror. I said at one stage “oh bollocks, I’ve
caught another one!” something that has never been said in the history of fishing.
A while into our indoor fishing nightmare 3 Korean guys joined
the party. Before long they were catching fish too but they weren’t squealing.
These were obviously real men. I was too ashamed to catch any fish in front of
them and decided to stop baiting my hook. Unsurprisingly and thankfully, I didn’t
catch any more fish.
Despite spending the afternoon panicked and petrified I did
have a fun time. Another fun weekend in the Land of the Morning Calm.
