This morning I slept in...til 8. I washed up, finished my packing, and left for Sokcho. As I waited for the bus I got a beautiful glimpse of the mountains, their peaks shrouded in low-hanging clouds. In Sokcho I got off the bus at the Express Terminal to drop my bag off at a locker, then went to the beach. On the way I saw a NesCafe coffee shop and walked up the stairs to try it out. Closed. So it was downstairs to Family Mart for a warm can of coffee.
Shot of the mountains from Seorak-dong
Facing west from Sokcho Beach
Facing east overlooking Sokcho BeachThe air was full of the sound of waves, punctured by the screams of kids as they played chicken with the waves. They'd walk towards the water, then run back, trying to outrun the waves. A man came down the beach, blowing his whistle and motioning the kids to go inland; the waves were getting higher. As soon as he left, the kids returned to their games. Another man came over and used all his authority as an 아저씨 to get the kids away from the water. Good thing. I guess these parents don't know what an undertow can do to a 40-lb kid.
I spent a bit of time journaling, then decided to hit the city part of Sokcho. I didn't want to do much sightseeing; I just wanted to hang out.
As I passed the NesCafe I looked up and saw that the door was open. Cools. A hazelnut cappuccino and some more journaling. I left around noon to try the side of the city across from the lake. This is less tourist-y and more business-related; here the hotels are replaced with City Hall, the police station, Coast Guard, and houses.
Fishermen mending their nets
Fish drying. Yum!I rounded the corner and an elevated port-a-potty greeted me. I braced myself, drew a deep breath, and opened the door.
And came face-to-face with a very shocked man.
I apologized and turned around. I heard him drew the lock. I had my back turned to him when he came out to spare us both additional embarrassment.
The port-a-potty was a squatter. And, all things considered, I actually prefer a squatter port-a-potty over a sit-down, as it allows for less germ exchanging. Furthermore, it's much easier to squat over a hole in the ground than it is to squat over a toilet seat, which is usually my only option in public stalls.
I returned to the restaurant and waited only a few minutes before the 아줌마 brought out my meal. It was so good. 회덥밥 is like 비빔밥 but with raw matchstick-sliced octopus, pear and lettuce. The lettuce reminded me of 비빔밥 back in the States when we didn't have any 반찬 in the house; mom just tore pieces of romaine and threw them in to give us some vegetable content. Hahahaha
Speaking of 반찬, this restaurant had good stuff. As usual, I ate half my rice but almost all my 반찬. I think henceforth I'm just going to ask for a half portion of rice. No need to contribute to an international food shortage by wasting rice.
Let me tell you about the restaurant's other patrons. Only because I'm very fond of them. When I walked into the restaurant I was greeted with the shouts and laughter of a noisy group of 아저씨s sitting at a table loaded with food and soju. Soju at 2 in the afternoon?! Their noise didn't dissipate throughout the meal, but instead of detracting from my culinary pleasure, it in fact enhanced it.
They were mostly of the fisherman/coast guard variety, and in the midst of the 이씨s and 개새끼s strewn throughout their conversation they were a close group of jovial people -- not drunk enough to be disgusting, but not sober enough to be demure. At one point an 아저씨 was expounding on a particularly long soliloquy, and the table erupted with relieved laughter when another 아저씨 finally exploded with "아 시끄러!" Yet 아저씨 #1 took no notice of #2 and continued to talk, only raising his voice to be heard over the sudden laughter and conversation that attempted to drown him out.
By the time I finished my meal I had 45 minutes til my bus' departure. I began booking it for the main road.
Sokcho is a small city with a lake in the center. I had two options. I could return to the bus terminal by retracing my route, walking to the ferry, crossing over, and walking back to the Terminal, as taxis and buses are very limited between the lake and the Express Terminal. This could take me about 45 minutes, I estimated. Or I could hop on a bus that would skirt the lake. I had no idea how long it would take, as I knew neither the city's size nor the frequency of stops.
I decided to take the gamble and hop on a bus. Traffic was horrid. Though it's a small town, the streets are mainly of two-lane variety; any additional lanes were eaten up by stopping buses and parked cars. Stoplights meant long lines. By the time I began to worry and contemplate alternate options, though, I realized we were on the west side of the lake. From my bus experiences Saturday, I presumed that the route would move along much more quickly once we hit the south side of the lake, as it is a multi-lane avenue with few bus stops.
I was right. All in all, the ride took 25 minutes tops. I had time to spare.
The ride back to Seoul was mostly uneventful, with one exception. Because of traffic, the bus was obliged to stop twice for the sake of overworked bladders. The first stop was fifteen minutes. The second one, though, was unscheduled, so there was nothing on the TV screens to indicate how long we had. The thought to ask the driver occurred to me, but I rashly brushed it aside, assuming it would be like the first time.
I was getting hungry and knew that another few hours on the road would produce loud growling from my stomach. I decided to get some food.
As I approached the bus it struck me as odd that there was nobody standing outside like usual. The driver was inside the bus. My pace quickened.
They were waiting. For me. As I boarded, the driver addressed the bus and all I caught was "위국인." I think he was trying to evoke understanding for the foreigner who obviously hadn't received the memo that it would be a shortened stop.
Awkward. To exacerbate the feeling, it seemed every eye was on me to get a glimpse of the offender as I speed-walked the eternal aisle to my seat at the rear of the bus.
Now imagine how ridiculous I felt when, shortly thereafter, I began to recognize my neighbourhood and realized we were only an hour from our destination: a distance that my stomach surely could have handled.
허걱
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