Mumbai - 7,187 Miles from Home

OK, so I recently read back my last blog post about Hong Kong and Macao and I noticed numerous grammar mistakes. My excuse is that I wrote it while at the bar in Hong Kong airport waiting for my flight. Regardless, I will try my super harderest to minimise the grammar mistakes this time round.

I arrived in Mumbai in the early hours of the 12^th. The taxi took me to my hotel and the first thing I encountered was the poverty in India. There are quite literally thousands of people sleeping in the streets, so many in fact that the pavements are full and people sleep in the roads and the cars drive around them.

The daylight dawned and I got my first real glimpse of India. It’s insanity here. The first thing that I was really aware of is the never-ending threat of disease. When I walk down the street I’m consciously thinking about avoiding the stray dogs that carry rabies, the dirty puddles with cholera, the mosquitoes with malaria, and the people with every form of hepatitis.

If you manage to avoid those threats you then put your life on a knife-edge when you get inside a taxi in India. The taxis are about 50 years old, they are old tin buckets on wheels. I’ve been sat inside them thinking that if this taxi is in a minor collision then I will definitely die. And of course, there are no seat belts. If the thought of dying in a sardine tin wasn’t terrifying enough then the way they drive will provoke a heart-attack. They have mirrors, but you wouldn’t think so. They pull out in traffic whether there’s a space or not, and drive by sound. The drivers listen for other’s horns. A taxi journey in India is up there with skydiving.

As I walk around the streets of Mumbai I realise that I stick out like a saw thumb. Sometimes when you’re out and about you might be in a bad neighbourhood and you might think to yourself ‘I wouldn’t like to take a wrong turn in this part of town’. Well, that’s not possible in Mumbai because every area is the wrong part of town.

A few days in I took a boat trip out to Elephanta Island, the boat trip was relaxing, out on the Arabian Sea, away from the death-trap taxis, and the noise. However, when on the island I found out that it’s inhabited by aggressive, thieving monkeys. There’s no rest from it! I’m now avoiding stray dogs, mosquitoes, goats, cows, chickens, dirty water, and now monkeys with only a selfie-stick to defend myself with.

The sightseeing has been fun despite the unbearable heat and the unstoppable sweating. I’ve been to; The Gateway of India, Chowpatty Beach, Shree Siddhivinayak Hindu Temple, the Haji Ali Daragah (an island mosque), and the Sanjay Ghandi National Park.

The famous Gateway of India

The Haji Ali Dargah Mosque and part of the Mumbai skyline

The most interesting tale comes from when I tried to go to the Vipassana Pagoda in the northern reaches of Mumbai. I asked the hotel staff how to get there and they said that a taxi would be too expensive (£8) and that I should opt for the train (£0.15), so I did.

At the train station, the man who issued my ticket explained the route that I needed to take. The only problem was that he had one of the strongest Indian accents I’ve ever come across. Being the polite Brit I asked him to repeat the instructions, but again I didn’t understand. So, I went on my way without a clue how to get there (and the only maps available were in Hindi). All I gathered was platform 3, something in a broad Indian accent, Borivali Station (my destination).

The trains are exactly how you’ve seen them on TV and film. The doors are wide open, no concern for safety, and people hanging on for dear life.

It was a slow train, and stop after I was hoping to see Borivali Station. I waited but it never came. Before I knew it, it was the end of the line and I had no idea where I was.

And this is where I ended up...

I went up to the ticket counter and asked how to get to Borivali. He ignored my distress and issued me another ticket (this time 20p – robbing bastards). Well, back on the train I suppose. This time it’s packed and I’m in second class. I trust no one. I wear my bag on my chest and my hand stays firmly on my camera. It’s ridiculously hot, I’m the only white person in the carriage, I feel unsafe, and I’m clueless to where I’m actually going. So I think “fuck it, let’s get a taxi”. At that particular moment I wouldn’t have minded paying £9 for a taxi, I just wanted to get off. I got off at the next station (wherever that was) and ask a taxi driver to go to the Vipassana Pagoda, but he’s never heard of it. I’m so lost, so far from Mumbai that even the taxi drivers couldn't help me. On that day, all I knew was that I was in India, it was a pretty scary thought. Well, back on the train I suppose.

Back on the heaving, smelly, grotty train (can you tell that the novelty wore off pretty quickly?), and a kind, softly spoken man helped me. He told me to get off at a station called Dadar and change lines. Thank you, random softly spoken Indian man. I get to Dadar and there are about 8 lines. I went to the ticket queue and ask which line I need. Unfortunately, I’m still too far from the international part of Mumbai and no one understands me, and my Hindi hasn’t improved since the last encounter. With my possessions still intact, I opt to cut my losses and head back to Mumbai.

The next day I tried again and managed to get there, and what a sight it was.

The view of the Global Vipassana Pagoda from the water.

India is a crazy, trying place. It’s certainly not a relaxing holiday destination. I think I would have been bothered by it a lot more had I not been eating delicious curries for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. My Indian journey doesn't end here. Next stop - Delhi.

Hong Kong & Macao - 9,621 Miles from Home

The next stop on my journey home was to Hong Kong.

Hong Kong has been a city that I’ve wanted to visit for a long time, and I got round to it this week. One of the first things I did there was go to the Hong Kong Museum of History. I knew nothing about Hong Kong other than it was part of the British Empire at some stage in the past. As to be expected, Britain invaded the land despite being greatly outnumbered (100,000 to 20,000) by the Chinese. The shy numbers didn’t stop the Brits claiming the land, and even made the Chinese pay compensation to the British for the loss of naval soldiers during the invasion. I felt some pride that a small island nation could take on the world and win, but you also realise that maybe we weren’t the most liked around that time.

The British influence lasts till this day. There are 34,000 British expats in Hong Kong and going for a few beers on Saturday night in Lan Kwai Fong made me feel like I was home. It even felt like Magaluf (another British territory), it wouldn’t have been out of place to have those annoying reps approaching you. “Alright, lads? Where are you going tonight? $5 for a cocktail, a shot of Sambuca, and a Jaegerbomb”. The only thing different was the price - £7 for a pint. £7! So Karl and I eventually found a quaint little place called "7-Eleven", and we were drinking a local tipple called "cans of Stella".

After being in Asia for so long, many people have an image of a stereotypical British man. Hugh Grant and Benedict Cumberbatch have done us all a favour, but in reality the Brits in Hong Kong are letting us down. They’re less like Hugh Grant and more like Grant Mitchell.

We did some touristy stuff. We went to Lantau Island, Victoria Peak, crossed the bay on the Star Ferry, went to Nan Lian Garden, and even took in a football game.

Nan Lian Garden

Lantau Island

A junk boat on Victoria Harbour

The view from the top of Victoria Peak

Despite the moaning Hong Kong has become one of my favourite cities.

Macao, on the other hand, is billed as “the Vegas of Asia” so I had high hopes. It was once occupied by the Portuguese so it has a different European vibe than Hong Kong. We did some sightseeing before dark and the Fortaleza do Monte is mediocre. When on top of the fort you can see the “real” Macao that isn’t luxurious hotels and casinos. The majority of Macao is actually pretty dire. Another “must see” of Macao is the ruins of St. Paul’s Church. I thought this was a bit of a con, when the majority of the city is in ruins the church becomes less special.

We headed to the Cotai Strip (the good bit) and it does have some resemblance to Las Vegas. Huge hotels, luxurious shopping malls, and the like, but it’s not the same. I’m not a serious gambler, so when I went to Vegas I made sure that the value I was gambling was less than I was getting in complimentary whisky. In Macao everyone’s a serious gambler. There are no free drinks, terrible mid-week nightlife, mostly high stakes gambling, and no assistance. I put some money down on the tables, but it was a waste. I was out of cash after about three spins of roulette. My gambling experience in Macao didn’t even last as long as my first sexual experience. At least with my first sexual experience I left with a smile on my face and some change in my pocket.

Drinking in The Venetian

The Cotai Strip of Macao

So is Macao the Vegas of Asia? No way. It’s not even the Blackpool of Asia. 

Taiwan - 9,779 Miles from Home

Karl and I have started our journey back to the UK with a stop in Taipei, Taiwan. It was my first of six flights with Asian airlines, and luckily I made it without disappearing or any attacks from Russian/Ukrainian missiles. Wish me luck for the rest of them.

We are only here for a few days, just enough time to take in the city. The weather started off good, but soon changed to overcast and intermittent light rain. It’s not ideal, but we’re Brits abroad so regardless of the weather we persisted with shorts, football shirts, and flip-flops.

The view from the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall of the National Concert Hall and the National Theatre. 

The food in Taiwan is great. I didn’t have a bad meal the whole time I was here. One downside to being in a new land is the lack of communication. It may surprise you, but I can’t speak Taiwanese Hokkien, and Karl isn’t much help either. Karl is hardly understood outside of Nottinghamshire. When ordering food I had no idea what I was ordering most of the time. I’d point at pictures and feel like an utter mong. There is an upside to not knowing and it’s that you can’t prejudge the food, there is a chance that I ate a chicken’s anus whilst here but I’ll never know. It tasted delicious and that was good enough for me. Ignorance is bliss.

We went to a few temples; the most famous one in Taipei, Longshan Temple, and a quieter one, Bao’an Temple. They are truly amazing to look at, the design, the finer details - it’s all truly beautiful.

Longshan Temple

Bao'an Temple

We visited the National Palace Museum. ­­­­There are artefacts in the museum are literally from thousands of years ago, but it’s stuff that I just can’t get excited about. Early Chinese books and scriptures, but I can’t read Chinese so it doesn’t really matter how old the book is. Maybe I’m just not an appreciator of Chinese culture. If you’re not into it, you’re not into it. I wish I could be more like Wayne Rooney, he’s a real appreciator of ancient things. My verdict is go to the museum if it’s raining.

The Entrance of the National Palace Museum

A highlight was going to Taipei 101. It’s the 4^th largest building in the world. It seems that only Taipei and Arsenal use 4^th place as an achievement.

Taipei 101 and the only bit of sunshine we had on the trip.

On a final note, the night markets are good, and the beer is adequate. And that pretty much wraps up Taipei. It’s a shame that we weren’t able to take in a day trip or two to see more of Taiwan, but there’s always next time.

Had the City on Lockdown: Closing Thoughts on Korea

My time in Korea has finally concluded. I am setting off on my next adventure which will take me from Seoul to Taipei, Hong Kong, Macau, Mumbai, New Delhi, and Istanbul before a long awaited return to England. Korea has been filled with many new experiences, and good memories, but I thought I’d collate some of the things I will and won’t miss about the Land of the Morning Calm.

Things I Won’t Miss About Korea

1. The Unbearably Hot Summers – Temperatures soar to 40°C in the height of the summer, and added to this blazing heat is 90% humidity. Forget having an ice-cold cider in a pub garden, I’m sweating in my undies standing underneath my air-conditioner.
2. The Unbearably Cold Winters – You’d think that the tropical summer climate would even out to hospitable winters. Wrong! The temperature drops to -20°C. It gets that cold that the hookers on The Hill charge ₩20,000 just to blow your hands.
3. The Food – I’m not talking about Korean food, some of that stuff’s good. I’m talking about foreign food made by Koreans. It costs 3 times as much, and tastes half as good. There’s a reason why the Italians never put sweet potato on a pizza, and the Mexicans haven’t put fermented cabbage in tacos, they do not belong. Stop Korean fusion, please.
4. American English – When learning English as a second language it’s completely reasonable to prefer one dialect to another. But just because I don’t pronounce my R’s like some hillbilly pirate doesn’t mean I’m wrong.
5. The Inability to Queue – The concept of ‘first come, first served’ is foreign to Koreans. The number of times I have been standing in a queue, waiting patiently to be served (like a good Brit should) and an elderly person has cut the line is untold. Rules don’t apply to older people in Korea because they are to be respected. I tried to learn “Oi, coffin dodger! Get to the back of the queue!” in Korean, but I don’t think it translates.
6. Manners and Courtesy – I’m not asking much, just some acknowledgment that I stopped a door from slamming in your face. Or that when I’m standing next to you on the subway platform that you don’t cough up a throatful of phlegm.

It’s not all negative; there are some things I will miss!

Things I Will Miss About Korea

1. The Cost of Living - Everyday essentials are just cheaper here than back home. A pint of beer costs less than £2, and a journey on the subway costs around £0.60. You can save a lot of money over the year from the reduced living expense, which you can then spend on more beer.
2. The Women - Going back to England I will be going cold turkey. Asian women are like a drug, giving up heroin would be easier. I'm heading home to a land of white women. Who wants them? I mean, apart from other white guys, black guys, Asian guys, and lesbians...I suppose anyone without an Asian fetish.
3. Honesty - Korea is by far the most honest country I have visited. I experienced no threat from Koreans, they are too honest to deceive and steal. In fact, the dodgiest people in Korea are the foreigners. It will take me a while to adjust back to not trusting people.
4. Being Different - I'm a Daily Mail nightmare. I'm a liberal, foreign immigrant, that doesn't speak the local language, and muslim. OK, that last one isn't true, but the rest are. Foreigners are treated well in Korea, I'm treated as a commodity here. Locals want to talk to me and be my friend, whereas in the UK I'm just another emotionally repressed, moaning, overly polite, pessimistic Brit. Although, I like being that too.
5. The Internet Speed - According to some reports, South Korea has the world's fastest average download speed. There's nothing more infuriating than a slow internet connection. Did you know that 57% of domestic abuse in the UK happened as a result of slow internet connections? OK, I made that statistic up, but it's believable, isn't it? Despite having the luxury of the world's fastest download speed adult content is illegal in Korea. So it's very much a win-lose situation.
6. FFs - It's a quaint club in Hongdae, Seoul. We go there every Saturday and it's a fun place, but it's full of loose women. My own problem with that is venereal disease, which is disabilitating, especially for a soldier. And it's irresponsible to the rest of your unit as well, right. You've been under attack for days, there's a soldier down, he's wounded, gangrene's setting in, 'who's used all the penicillin?' 'Oh, Karl Egan sir, he's got knobrot off some tart'
7. Teaching - It was a job that I had never tried before and never really saw myself doing, but I'm glad I tried it. For the most part it was a great experience, teaching adults is a joy, and the kids are a lot of fun. Sure, you have days with the kids when you start to justify child abuse, but that's part of the challenge. If you're considering teaching abroad you should.
8. The People - I met some great new friends, and some average ones too. Who knows if I'll see them again, but they made my Korean journey all the more fun.

The original gang who helped me settle quickly in Korea.

Fried Chicken Fridays (minus Johnny, I couldn't find one of us all together!)

The South Africans from down south

Two more Saffas.

The Korea Burn Gang

My mong partner in crime

A few of the little bastards

There's Too Much On Display at a Jjimjilbang

A jjimjilbang is a spa/bath house, they are very common in Korea. Jjimjilbangs are always touted as a tourist “must do” but, I never really got round to it, until this week.

The first time I became aware of a jjimjilbang was around a year ago when I was sitting in a pub in Bupyeong with Toner and James. The conversation got onto jjimjilbangs, and due to my lack of insight I asked, “what’s a jimjil-thing?” James went on to explain and, James being James, suggested that we went to one there and then.

“Come on, guys! You’re in Korea, you’ve got to try these things!” James probably said. Josh and I passed on his offer and, for once, we got the better of James’ positivity and enthusiasm for life.

My second interaction with a jjimjilbang was when I was innocently looking for a barbershop, to get my hair cut. I found a spinning barber pole and went inside. The “barbershop” was in a basement, I walked down the stairs and was greeted by an old lady who handed me a towel and charged me ₩7,000 up front. Slightly confused by the towel I entered anyway. I was forced to take my shoes off upon entry and was shown to a row of lockers. I was very confused at this stage. As I stood trying to work out this strange Korean barber custom a naked Korean man walked past me with the biggest bush I’d ever seen. “Oh crumbs, I’m in a jjimjilbang.” Well, I had already paid by that stage, I may as well get my haircut.

I wandered over to the barber and said “haircut?” He said yes, and showed me over to the lockers again. I tried my best to explain that I just wanted a haircut but, for the third time he ushered me to the lockers to get undressed. Eventually, I just sat down in the barber’s chair and he took the hint. As I sat in the chair I saw something I had never seen before whilst getting my hair cut. Normally, I stare at myself in the mirror and mentally criticise the job the barber is doing, but this time was different. This time I saw multiple naked men in the mirror as they undressed to enter the spa. Knob after knob wandered past catching my attention each time. I paid and left.

Anyway, I decided to give the jjimjilbang experience a try.

I went to the Dragon Hill Spa in Yongsan, one of the more elaborate jjimjilbangs in Seoul. First of all I went to the locker room, stripped off and changed into the casual pyjamas that are given to you upon arrival. I walked around the common areas, this specific jjimjilbang had it all. There were noraebangs (karaoke rooms), a video game arcade, a restaurant, a PC room, screen golf, a cinema, as well as the more traditional saunas, and ice rooms. I’m not such a fan of saunas and ice rooms. When it was summer I’d complain about the heat, but there I was voluntarily going into an uncomfortable room. And now it’s currently winter, it’s 0°C outside and I’m wrapped up with a warm coat, hat, and gloves, but I’ve paid to go to a place to put on pyjamas, and sit in a freezer encouraging frostbite. They don’t make sense to me. 

I went to the wash room. It was very strange. James said the being naked thing is normal, which I suppose amongst other men it is, but there were children about. Being white and having a beard in Asia most people already assume that I'm a paedophile. To Asians there's no difference between me and Gary Glitter. Being naked around children was weird. Not only that to get from the changing room to the showers you had to walk through a snack bar and past the kids TV area. Being a teacher I'm used to children laughing at me but not normally when I'm naked, it was like a living nightmare.

In the wash room I sat at the waist height taps and scrubbed myself down using the communal soap. Ahh, the communal soap. How many sets of balls have been cleaned with that one bar? You can add another set to the tally. After the rinse I got in the Jacuzzi. I've been in many Jacuzzis in my time, but this was the first time I'd been in one naked with 6 elderly Korean men. As I sat there the hordes of naked boys came in. I realised that it’s less uncomfortable to be naked around old men than young boys.

An encouraged experience at the jjimjilbang is the body scrub. During this process someone takes a flannel and takes all the dead skin off your body. Something I didn’t realise until yesterday was how sensitive your skin is until someone takes a layer of it off with a Brillo Pad. I had a scab on my shoulder when I went in there. Had. Skin grows back, doesn’t it?

Sometimes in my life I consider the choices that I have made and assess where I am and what I’m doing. However bad life can get for me I don't think it will be as bad as the male body scrubber in a jjimjilbang. He charges ₩15,000 to rub old men down (and even does a discount for children (see, I told you it's weird)). That's around £9. Not even Thai ladyboys charge that little...so I've been told. The guy that gave me a rub down (not that kind) certainly wasn’t shy, his Brillo Pad covered every inch of my body and entered every crevice. I suppose I got my money’s worth.

My final verdict on jjimjilbangs is that I did feel relaxed, my skin was incredibly soft after the body scrub, and 24 hours later my it has started to grow back. So if you’re into relaxation and naked children then this is a Korean experience you must not miss. 

The comedian Conan O'Brien visited a jjimjilbang recently. You can watch his analysis of it below.

Korean Delicacies at Gwangjang Market, and Eating Dog (Bosintang)

A few months ago I went with a ‘friend’ to Gwangjang Market in Seoul. It’s a pretty standard market with a huge array of Korean delicacies, of which I tried some of them. All the food that we ate was washed down with beer and soju - it's the Korean way. 

One of the more normal dishes I tried at Gwangjang was yukhoe. Yukhoe is seasoned raw ground beef topped with a raw egg, or as it’s more commonly known in other countries as ‘E.coli topped with salmonella’. The taste was uninspiring, I tried to explain to the waiter that both ingredients tasted better when cooked, but there must have been a language barrier. I read after I had eaten it that in 2011, 5 Japanese people died and 35 were hospitalised after eating yukhoe. Jamie Oliver can say what he likes about the standard of school dinners in the UK, but 10 years of eating Turkey Twizzlers probably saved my life. My stomach could probably fight off a pint of bleach without much hassle.

Some men like breast, others like legs, but the foot fetish guys are always the weirdest – and the same applies for chicken. Dakbal, as it’s known in Korea, is a dish of spicy chicken feet. The look and sound horrific but in actuality they taste OK. The initial thought of popping one in your mouth is the worst part, but my question is ‘why bother?’ When there are so many better parts to eat; a succulent breast, a tender thigh, I was struggling to think of a reason to eat chewy, meatless feet. It was an experience that I shall not repeat.

The waste not, want not culture of Korean food doesn’t stop with chicken feet, the Koreans also enjoy jokbal which is a dish consisting of pig trotters cooked in soy sauce. I tried this dish in Gwangjang Market and it left me unfulfilled. Friends had told me prior that it was delicious, a delight not to be missed. Well, what I ate was disgusting. It was extremely tough to chew, pretty much all skin, and served cold. I was told after that this is not how it should have been served. So I’ve literally experienced the worst kind of jokbal available.

Beondegi is a dish that I haven’t been brave enough to try. The main reason being that beondegi is silkworms and they smell exactly as you’d imagine a steamed bowl of silkworms would smell. Fucking rank. It’s another case of ‘why?’ I’m sure that when food supplies were scarce you had to make do with what food was available, but nowadays Korea has one of the strongest economies in the world. Even Bear Grylls would turn his nose up at beondegi. 

And, probably by far, the most commonly known food to come from Korea, is of course dog soup (bosintang). There is a lot of controversy regarding the consumption of dog meat, and many state that it is technically illegal to eat. So, for the record I definitely did not eat bosintang on the 23^rd February around 4pm, but if a fictional person in Korea were to go to a restaurant and eat bosintang it might look like this (right).

If one were to eat it, they might say that it tastes like low grade beef, and that it's as chewy as a piece of leather, and that it's likely that they'll pick it out of their teeth for a week. But, who actually knows? That's just the imaginary opinion of a fictitious person. 

I won't be rushing out to get another bowl anytime soon...I mean that person won't be rushing out. But, as the saying goes "it could be worse, you could be Scouse, eating rats in your council house".

I'm just reporting on this, but leave me alone with your pet at your own risk. 

Often in my classes my students are all too happy to tell me that they once visited England and “experienced” British cuisine. They say it’s salty and horrible. Food is subjective, and in my personal opinion I’d much rather have a Sunday roast than bulgogi, and I’d share a bucket of vindaloo with Fat Les rather than eat chicken feet, but each to their own. 

Politics and Bloodshed go Hand in Hand

The 13th of December marked a full year in the Republic of Korea for The Tefl-on Don, and as some of you may already know I have decided to extend my stay for another 2 months. So, I plan to be back in beaming Bedford sometime in March. 

Last weekend we went to Cheong Wa Dae, also known as The Blue House. Cheong Wa Dae is the office and residence of the Korean head of state. We booked the tour three months in advance and I was truly looking forward to it, to be inside such a significant building where the country is run would be inspiring. In reality you don’t go inside the building, you hardly even get close to it. Considering it is called the Cheong Wa Dae Tour it is very disappointing and misleading, it should be called the Cheong Wa Dae Garden Tour. Had I known this I would have been less interested, especially as it was -5°C in the middle of December.

The sub-zero freezing tour went like this… “This is a 170-year-old tree”. Don’t care. “This is where the former presidential office once stood”. Not concerned. “This is where foreign dignitaries stay when on official duty in Korea”. I don’t have any flying fucks to give. It was far too cold for sightseeing.

The following day we went to watch ROAD FC, or Korean UFC to you and I. Now, this was interesting. Violence, ring girls, and sipping Poju (Powerade and Soju) made for an excellent Sunday evening, and all the better as we got free tickets (thanks Susie!).

This was my first experience of UFC. I rather enjoy boxing, but this sport is different. It is so much more violent and seems to lack concern for the fighters’ safety in my opinion. In boxing it seems that the referee is willing to intervene quicker, preventing any unnecessary blows to the head. Throughout the many fights we saw on Sunday evening the fighters were allowed to knock a fighter to the floor (some seemed unconscious) and they are allowed to continue punching them on the head until the ref stops the fight. I didn’t like this aspect.

Fighters would enter the stage to their own choice of music, most played high tempo rap or rock songs to build anticipation. But my favourite fighter came out to Westlife’s version of You Raise Me Up. It was hardly intimidating but he won.

The best part of the evening was the women. As if there wasn’t enough testosterone in the bodies of every emasculated man in the audience, the women caused quite a stir.

And speaking of women, allow me to introduce you to Song Ga-Yeon. She is a ROAD FC fighter.

With her involved I would enjoy being her punching bag. The beating that I’d taken would definitely be worth the semi-naked contact in an enclosed ring. 

Until next time...