Busan, part VIII - 원조할매낙지Wonjo Halmaejip & wrapup

No filters and no editing, just my phone and Gamcheon because they're both awesome just the way they are

Final and wrapup in this entry because I don't feel like separating it into another post.

I've found peace of mind again after about 24 hours of slight, ever so vague turmoil from my usual nirvana. I'm taking it slow today after all the chaos of the past week. Every day is filled with work and I'm pacing myself today because I think I deserve a bit of a break, not the frenetic phone calls and meetings and discussions and harried looks and glances and absolute immersion in 9-6. What, you say, you and me and your whims.

Lodged a complaint with the airline I flew with because of plane delays. As someone who's highly time conscious, I abhor time delays. You know all that jazz they say about Aquarians not being on time and being really flexible? Well nuts to that. Maybe I'm not a true Aquarian because man I hate it when people mess with my schedule. I've cut off people for being late.

Beomil Station

My last few hours in Busan, and I was glad to be leaving, although I enjoyed it a lot more during the latter half of my stay. I went back to the hostel to get my fifth wind or so, rearranged my luggage a bit, and decided to go to the octopus stir fry restaurant that people had recommended on google. This was the only restaurant that I actually managed to find. It is a task within itself, finding places in Busan on the map.

Wonjo Halmaejip

Take your shoes off

I really liked this restaurant. The service was good and people were nice. The restaurant itself was comfy and had the air conditioning on at full power, which is always a gigantic plus in my book. It was a Japanese-style tatami floor, which meant that I had to take my shoes (flipflops) off, and I liked that because I always enjoy an excuse to take off my footwear. People have noticed that at work but I'm past the point of being embarrassed. What's that you say? I'm a delight, what a fucking loss. Why would anyone want to deprive themselves of me?

The stir fry was awesome and only cost 6500 won and I had the time of my life. I still think that the Mandarin speaking people do food better but Korean octopus and spice with loads of chili and onions and rice, you can never go wrong with that.

원조할매낙지Wonjo Halmaejip

Fed and watered, I ambled to the metro, placidly made my way back to the hostel as I do, used the internet a bit more at the hostel, then made my way to the airport.

Oh, Busan, goodbye.

The metro ride was quite nice because once again, peace of mind and all that jazz. The sun was setting slowly and a dusky blue had settled over the cities of Busan and Gimhae as the metro rolled slowly towards the airport. As the train crossed the wide Nakdong River, I looked back at the green, now dimly lit and slightly fuzzy mountains of Busan, and felt an inordinate affection for the city that I had never experienced whilst I was still in the city itself. I then looked at the Nakdong river, which reminded me inexplicably of the Spirited Away and the train that ran on water, and it was that, more than anything, which made me think - well - I probably will be back one day, not for the food, not for the people and not for the culture, but for the metro and Nakdong river as it is at 8pm and how it elicits an attempt in me to describe that which cannot be truly described, not by words, anyway. By dreams, maybe, and snippets of phrases in books written by David Foster Wallace and Charles Dickens and Charlotte Bronte, and of course I'd tell you to read the Victorians because that's what I did my degree in and I got a distinction for that because I'm so fucking awesome.

Wrappppup. I think I've said all that needs to be said. A trip not wholly taken in vain, if only for fleeting moments. I think growing up in England permanently ruined me for life, I said to Nadia the other day. No, not ruined, she said; inspired! Maybe so. The line between ruination and inspiration is slimmer than we think. Hope and despair, she said; the perfect measure between hope and despair that I always strive for. Not quite, not this time, only for that minute when I was on Nakdong at 8pm on a dusky Sunday evening.

Hello Yunho old friend

Busan, part VII - Gamcheon Cultural Village and Lotte Department Store

8 or so in the morning, pre people, with the office lights still darkened, is my favourite time in the office. It's a bubble of serene, undulated, heavenly bliss in a world of cacophony and phonies and phone calls and paperwork and papier maches and shouting and whining and complaining and griping and human woes.

I will sit here, I whispered to myself, as always, and I will savour the taste of my black coffee and think a bit about life and where this is all going. I had a slightly depressing conversation with Pris last night. I like her a lot, but, you know - my life is what I make of it, nothing more, nothing less. She reminded me of how fast the years and days and months go by, how it's like a race against time, and for a moment I agreed with her, but then I remembered what I was doing this time last year and how I'd spent the past 12 months, and what I was doing two years ago this time, and then three years ago, and I thought - no - you're wrong - it's not been going by that fast. I have crammed more living, intentionally and/or otherwise, into the past few years than most people have. I've grown a lot in those past years, and I'm a little older now, but far more comfortable with who I am than I ever was in my very early twenties. I've met countless people and gone to so many different countries and had so many different experiences. I've fallen in love with people, and been fallen in love with. I have madly adored people, and had people madly adore me. I've smelt the damp muddy smell of thunderstorms in Prague and Krakow and I've gotten drunk on too many occasions with wonderful people and fallen asleep in the hostel living room, and woken up the next day dazed and parched and feeling like heaven and hell. I've sat in numerous buses and watched the alpines roll away beneath me and the Austrian sun that Mozart gazed upon, rise above me as I left the city whence he was born.

Gamcheon. There was a main road which seemed to lead down to the Tsushima Strait, and I was under the impression that if I followed that road, I would be able to see the sea.

You can distinctly see the sea in the distance here

Again, the sea in the distance, which was where I was trying to get to

I walked down. It was very steep, and extremely hot, and after about 10 minutes of walking I completely lost sight of the sea, and began to rethink my plans, however it was far too steep for me to retrace my steps back to the Gamcheon village bus station, so I walked to the other side of the road and caught a bus there back to Toseong and returned to Nampo, again, and returned to nice comfy air-conditioned Lotte Department Store to do some more shopping for the fam.

My weekend in Busan is drawing to a close and that makes me quite happy.

One more entry to go. I might do a wrapup but not sure if I will. There's not a whole lot to say about Busan that hasn't already been said. Europe this sure ain't but of course. I've said it before and I'll say it again, Europe has been and always will be, the great love of my life. I didn't meet anyone interesting in Busan this time round, just a bunch of boring and unattractive Taiwanese older women. Same questions, same old answers, same predictable fucking process. Isn't that the case more and more as you grow older? I remember Europe last autumn, another lifetime away. There were so many lost people there on the road. No, you will not find yourself by travelling. Travelling is an end, not a means. You will not magically find the formula to the secret of life just by being a pseudo hippy and staying in cheap hostels and going to hostel raves and wearing harem pants and shit. In Noel Gallagher's words, you can't keep having the same fucking conversation in the kitchen about David Icke and pyramids and shit. For fuck's sake I'm only in my mid twenties, why does it feel like I'm so much older? When you're younger you look at the world with a fresher pair of eyes.

Busan, part VI - Gamcheon Cultural Village

Gamcheon Cultural Village was where things started to get a little hairy. It doesn't really bear thinking about, but then again this is what happens when you're a reasonably attractive woman in your twenties travelling alone, I guess.

So after I'd spent a lot of time walking around Nampo boardwalk, I went to Lotte department store to get some stuff for the fam, then I went back to the hostel to get my second (or third) wind and then went back to the metro once again. Gamcheon was supposed to be relatively close to my hostel, a two-metro stop, and I would have to take another bus up to the village itself.

I sat down on a bench in Nampo to wait for the metro, and this is another thing that I found rather weird about the metro in Busan, that the trains all seem spaced out. You have to wait about ten minutes if you missed the last train. Maybe I've been spoilt by underground systems in other cities but having to wait for more than 10 minutes for the metro seems a tad excessive to me. Anyway, a middle aged guy came and sat down next to me, and then he started talking to me. I took out my headphones and looked at him, and he spoke in Korean, and I said, I'm sorry I don't speak Korean. He tried again, this time in very, VERY broken English, and took out his phone and asked me for my number, and asked me where I was going. Then the train came and he followed me on, and made me sit down next to him, and pawed at me a bit, and then got off with me when I disembarked at Toseon. He gestured at me to say that I was very pretty. No shit. He then tried to take my hand, but I fended him off. Then he proceeded to wait with me at the bus stop, and did not leave till the bus had arrived, upon which he grasped my hand and firmly shook it, and tried to pull me in for a hug, but I artfully dodged him and fled into the safety of the bus and left him behind. What an experience.

Gamcheon was lovely. Easily my top three in Busan. I had talked a bit with some of the other people staying in the hostel, who said that they were not very impressed, but I was in love. There was a fantastic panoramic view of the entire colourful village right after you got off the bus, and I stood there, soaking up all that beauty in happy delight. An elderly Korean couple came up to me and tried to ask me for directions, but I told them again that I didn't speak Korean, and they walked off, looking very disgruntled as they always do.

More to come.