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