Here’s the story of, possibly, the most random weekend of my
life. It all started normally, Friday came around and it was pay day! This was
the second time since leaving the UK that I was able to tick something off the
bucket list, this time it was becoming a multi-millionaire. ₩2,100,000. I was
debating whether to mention how much I got paid as I remembered the advice of
The Notorious B.I.G. “Rule Nobre Uno:
Never let no one know how much dough you hold, cause you know the cheddar breed
jealousy ‘specially if that man fucked up, get yo’ ass stuck up”. But then
I remembered the advice of Big Sean “I
done paid taxes, paid dues, paid bills my whole life. So I’mma throw money in
the air like I’m tryin’ to pay the sky”. So I’mma make it rain.
I met James and Josh at 11pm and decided to go for a few
beers. The night started off slow and didn’t get into the rhythm of things
until it was about 2:30am and we all realised ‘Shit! We’re all still sober!’ So
we headed for a Ho Bar, got a bottle of Jack Daniels, and a fruit platter. We
somehow became celebrities for the night in Ho Bar, so many Koreans approached
us chatting away like we were important. I was feeling confident and fancied
trying my luck with some of the local ladies. I saw a pairing and convinced
Josh to be my wingman. We went over and it started really well, after about 10
minutes it was apparent that the girl I was talking to hated me. I don’t know
what I said or did to upset her but she hated me. I had to leave; I made an
excuse and went back to our table. Josh came over and asked how it was going,
and I explained. He told me that he was getting on really well with his one and
asked if I could go back with him as he hadn’t quite sealed the deal yet. Being
the good friend that I am (and a little protesting) I went back with Josh to
the girls and struck up another conversation with the girl that hated me. “Alright,
remember me? I’m the guy you loathe and
can’t bear talking to. So, come here often?”
We awoke Saturday afternoon and didn’t feel too bad. Josh
crawled out of bed and searched for a cigarette from the night before and he
was in luck, he had one left. He lit it and casually sat on the arm of the sofa
fag and coffee in hand. Me, probably still drunk from the night before, saw a
pair of socks balled up on the floor. I thought it would be mildly funny to
kick the socks at Josh while he sat blissfully. I kicked the socks so sweetly, they
lifted off the ground and cleaned out the cigarette, leaving just the fag butt
in Josh’s fingers. I have never kicked something so cleanly (not that
surprising if you’ve seen me play football). It was like Becks-Fergie-boot-Gate
all over again. Josh was furious. “What the fuck, bruv?!” I couldn’t stop
laughing. We picked up the afternoon where we left off on Friday night, with
beers and Soju.
We had decided to have a ‘chilled one’ on Saturday due to
our big plans on Sunday. Josh wanted to buy a ukulele, I wanted a curry, while
James met Susie for dinner and a movie, and we all decided to meet for a few
rounds of bowling that evening. We headed into Seoul but Josh and I didn’t
fancy eating too early so we postponed the curry. We looked for an instrument
shop but did not find one. So to make up for our lack of accomplishments we
went to a bar. We carried on drinking and before we knew it, it was 11pm. We
met James and Susie and found out that there would be an hour and a half wait
for a bowling lane so we stayed in the bar. No ukulele, no curry, no bowling,
just beer. We achieved nothing on Saturday, that’s the sort of thing alcoholics
do. The only difference is that we didn’t drive home and crash into Snappy
Snaps. We did however have an early night and retired from the bar at 3am.
Early by recent weeks’ standards.
 |
| The infamous socks with cigarette burn. |
The big day had arrived, our major weekend plans were to go
to the Hwacheon Sancheoneo Ice Fishing Festival. I didn’t know what to expect
from such an event other than ice and fish. We left Seoul early on the
two-and-a-half-hour coach journey north to Hwacheon (only 20 miles or so from
North Korea. I know, we’re bloody nutters!). Around Hwacheon is where the
rivers freeze first in Korea so it was rather chilly. We rodded up and found a
few holes in the ice. It was quite funny for a while, we were even dancing on
the ice to the terrible power ballads the event organisers had put on for us. Then
the novelty wore off. Thousands of people on a river, in the cold, on the last
day of the festival trying to catch the non-existing fish. Due to the lack of
activity it became very boring very quickly. Inuits had been ice fishing for
hundreds of years for survival; we had done it for 20 minutes and were already
moaning about it. My only aim for the day was to catch one fish, a single, tiny,
little fish. Then some activity, I saw fish in my hole, near my lure. The hook
teases were circling my lure but not biting! I remained patient but still no
luck. One buggar was just next to my hook, teasing me but looked uninterested.
I was very animated on the ice. “Just bite the bloody hook! What’s wrong with
you?!” I could never be a fisherman; you need to be calm and patient, not me. I
lost my temper and just yanked my line. The hook wedged in the side of the fish
and I pulled it out! I caught a fish! Then I thought “Argh! I caught a fish, what
do I do?!” it was like the scene in The Inbetweeners. I was panicking holding
the fish at arm’s length not knowing what to do. James, my saviour, came over
and unhooked it and eventually, after dropping it, popped it in a bag. I caught
a fish! I explained my method to Josh and he pointed that I hadn’t really
caught a fish, rather I had hunted a fish. Either way, I was happy. James
caught a fish not long after, this time through more traditional methods of
waiting for it to hook onto the lure and pulling it out.
We headed off the ice for some food and alcoholic beverages
(it had been about 8 hours since our last drink). I had my first taste of
Makgeolli. A milk-like alcoholic drink, not bad. We wandered around the
festival and came across the stupidest idea on the planet. There was an opportunity
to catch fish with your bare hands. People would wade into ice-cold water,
wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and submerge themselves
trying to catch a fish. A ridiculous idea. Unsurprisingly, James was up for it
and tried his best to convince Josh, Susie, and I to do the same! We all
protested saying how stupid it was. We wandered over to enquire about James
doing it and the organiser said because we are foreigners we could all do it
for free. Thanks mate! Not only is that pretty racist but the ₩12,000 (£7) fee being
waived was hardly a tipping point, it was hardly the bargain of the century!
James’ nagging continued and he wore us all down and we caved. “OK, James. I’ll
risk pneumonia if you stop annoying me”. We all thought it would be a good idea
to sink a few Soju’s for courage and to form some sort of beer blanket, it
helped… a little. We went into the changing rooms and took off the many layers
of clothes that we had on to opt for shorts and t-shirts in sub-zero
temperatures. We stepped outside and it was mental, ludicrous. We sat of the
side of the ice pond and the organisers selected a few people to take the first
plunge in front of the hundreds of spectators, and surprise, surprise muggins
was chosen. He tried to drag me in but I insisted “one toe at a time!” I got
in, knee-deep in water that a polar bear would say was nippy. All I could hear
was an eruption of laughter from my “friends” behind me. The “volunteers” waded
into the centre of the pond and the games started, the chap with the microphone
announced that on the count of 3 that we should all start splashing each other.
I was not amused. I walked away from the splashing nonsense. The organiser next
announced that we would all join hands and fall backwards into the glacial drink,
again an outrageous suggestion. He counted down and all of the naïve Koreans
fell for it.
Time for the main event, everyone jumped in trying to catch
the fish. Some cheeky bastard got one immediately and threw it down the back of
my shirt, I squealed in horror! James was rather nifty with his hands and got
one with ease. Josh, Susie, and I weren’t so good. I ran around the pond trying
to avoid them. A Korean caught one for me and passed it to me, I held onto as
my evidence for “trying”. It was 5 minutes of lunacy. Josh put a fish down his
shirt and my trophy fish went down my front. Some people may say it’s cruel,
and I agree, watching a foreigner with live fish down his shirt scream like a
little girl is very cruel. The time was up and thankfully we were able to
leave. James and I posed for the paparazzi, we even made the local news. The
second time of the weekend I felt like a celebrity.
We dried ourselves off and changed into some sensible
clothing. We carried on our wander and went to cook our catches. They had an
enormous furnace that baked the fresh fish. 15 minutes later we were eating the
fish we had caught, it felt very manly. Pretty much the first time I’ve ever
felt manly. The trout was delicious, the meat fell straight off the bone. We
tucked in to possibly 10 fish, and you know what goes really well with fresh
fish? More Soju.
The journey back was long but rather enjoyable, a belly full
of fish and feeling slightly buzzed. The end to a great weekend. I’m now
suffering from a lack of sleep but at least I’ve got a few stories to tell.
