Scenic Lakes and Seoul Larks

The title’s a bit of a stretch, but I’ll stick by it.

Suffice to say, we have not wasted our weekend. Thus far, we have: gone shopping and hiking, eaten out at local joints twice, met up with fellow Western stragglers and stumbled our way to the world’s second-biggest metropolitan capital. All that with time to spare for us to panic about work the next day!

It has been both a tremendous pleasure and relief to meet up with people we don’t need a book to communicate with. Not to mention our host’s rooftop home has quite possibly the most spectacular cityscape view I have yet seen: 

: From our host Shawn’s terrace. ‘Wow’ was the consistent noise made by the arriving guests. Not to mention the fact that this was effectively the same in a 360° panorama all around the area. Seoul is a blind-mogglingly huge place – no wonder it takes 45 minutes from the edge of the city to drive in a straight line…

Oh my sweet Jaysus.

The Jinjeop Crew, as they are known (taken from the area most of them are based) are an eclectic mix of Canadian, American, Australian and Irish travellers, all of whom seem to have been travelling just long enough to make one feel inadequate. I shall have to compete by spending the next decade/s of my life with a phrasebook in my hand in as many countries as possible. Also, Western Seaboard locals put to shame any overcast attempts at BBQs by the English – as I discovered after sampling unbelievably delicious steaks after chickens after steaks. I shall be roughly the shape of an aubergine upon rolling back to the Kingdom.

The Jinjeop Crew, post-dinner.

Today was a case of adventuring about the area, staking out potential restaurants, ie. those with pictures for us to point to. If all else fails, ‘chicken’ mimes go down a treat with the locals. We/Meg discovered a bargain antiques dealer and is currently researching frigate international delivery for our return in an attempt to justify getting (undoubtedly delightful) cabinets and chests-of-drawers. We ventured to Lake Onam to plot a running route for the lady and a hobbling route for Igor (myself) – and, while the prospect of gasping and sweating at passing locals does not appeal, one cannot deny the fantastic view.

Meg, with panache and boots.

One free beer, a plate of un-beheaded crustaceans and a less-than-sneaky birthday shop later, I’m in my underwear spouting nonsense while Frankie Boyle abuses his audience in the corner of my screen. And who says you can’t make home feel like home in another country?

My posts are getting longer and, by definition, surely less captivating. Apologies – but on the other hand, I didn’t use italics as much today.