20.56 km, 27,063 steps, 280 minutes, 4.4 kph. Today, I made a command decision to do both Courses 8 and 9 once I realized that, yesterday, I had already gone a large fraction of the way along Course 8. I finished Course 8 (well, my version of it, anyway) by 10:30 this morning, despite a late start that saw me leave my motel at 6:55 this morning. Again, I started from downtown, so I wouldn't have seen a sunrise, anyway.
Before I go on about today, though, here are a couple notes that apply to yesterday. (1) My phone didn't charge much during the night; it was up to only 55% this morning. Luckily, my portable battery was fully charged, so I was able to rely on that today. I've developed a system whereby I put the portable battery into the backpack's outermost back pocket; I attach the long charging cord to the battery and to my phone, and I'm able to walk comfortably with the phone in my hip pocket while it charges. When I'm down to 10%, now, this is what I do. (2) I forgot to note that, at the restaurant I visited yesterday, none of the staffers was wearing a mask, so I felt comfortable removing mine long before the food arrived. (3) While I was removing the Leukotape from my foot last night, I joked with myself, saying how bad it would be if the tape—which has hellishly strong glue—were to take my skin off with it. And it happened. It happened right as I was entertaining that thought. Nothing major, and I think the rip may have been because of a tiny blister that had formed, not because the Leukotape literally tugged my skin off. Solution for the next little while: after showering, cover the new wound with a bandage before reapplying the Leukotape.
And a couple general observations. First: grannies on scooters. They're everywhere. Life on Jeju moves at a much slower pace than it does on the mainland, and watching these old ladies putt-putting along just so they can talk with their friends is simultaneously cute and hilarious. This phenomenon simply adds to the chill vibe of the island. I've watched these scooter grannies get together and start jabbering loudly; I've seen a granny ride up to a young mom and her kids to say hey; I've seen grannies riding along with heavy burdens and a grimly purposeful look on their faces. Second: it's hard to find evidence of fall. October in Jeju thus far has been very summer-like. If you look through the pics I've already taken, you'll see some showing fallen leaves, but for the most part, everything around here is still quite green, and the harvest hasn't really begun in earnest. This is very unlike the mainland, where a harvest might start a bit late if it's been a bad year, but it'll still start earlier than in Jeju. I'm curious, now, to look at climate profiles of Jeju versus the mainland.
Today started late, but I saw on Naver Map that I had actually advanced five or so kilometers along Course 8. Since, over the course of yesterday, I also skipped part of the Olle and took alternate routes, there wasn't much of Course 8 left for me to do today. I arrived at the end of Course 8 at around 10:35 a.m. The endpoint was right next to a tacky-looking pizzeria that was nevertheless tempting me with its siren song. I thought about ending my walk right there and waiting for the pizzeria to open up so I could pig out, but ultimately, I decided to add Course 9 to the day because that course was going to be short, anyway—around 7 km. Course 9 was also rated as "difficult," and I ended up finding my own route that still allowed me to end at the proper endpoint for the course. I'm becoming obsessed with photographing those trail-end stamps, so I'm making an effort to end each segment of the Olle at the legitimate endpoint.
There was a steep price to be paid, today, for the alternate route I took, though: literally steep. As you'll see in the photo essay, there was one mean, massive hill that kept going and going. I think my American coworker in Seoul, an avid biker, would have loved that hill. I stopped dozens of times on my way to the top, ostensibly to take photos of the land below, but really just to catch my breath. As hills go, it was up there with the two or three worst hills of the Four Rivers path.
Weather-wise, the day was mostly cloudy and cooler than yesterday, although there was, on occasion, some lingering humidity, some rain, and even some sun. Things got windy toward the end of the day, and when I went out just a few minutes ago this evening, the wind was quite blustery. Because my route took me across some quiet, nearly empty stretches once I was out of yesterday's urban setting, part of today's walk felt almost bleak at times. The ambiance was probably just a function of the weather.
The worst rain came at a little past 9 a.m. It was a shower that lasted only twenty or so minutes, but it was bad enough that I had to stop, put on my rain jacket, and make sure my tech gear was all in Ziploc bags. I chafed at being unable to photograph some of the sights I walked by while it poured (including a place called "Witch's Hill," which apparently featured in a Korean movie titled "Ma-nyeo," i.e., "The Witch"—not to be confused with "The VVitch" by David Eggers). There was a threat of rain for much of the rest of the walk, but aside from a few tentative sprinkles, there was no serious precipitation for the remainder of my trek. The forecast mentioned rain happening at 4 p.m., but I was indoors by then.
Lunch today was at a restaurant with no clear specialty, but it had another jeongshik on the menu, so I got that. Service wasn't as friendly as at the previous place, but one of the young ladies was—as was true elsewhere—clearly not Korean. The slow, exaggerated way she said "I'm sorry" to one customer gave me the impression that she might be Chinese. I didn't ask, thinking that asking might be rude. I generally like these jeongshik meals, which come with a little of everything, but the fish that gets served, while tasty, is often filled with little pin bones that I constantly have to spit out. I'm not adept enough to do that thing where a Korean diner simply lifts the bones straight out of the fish; one reason for this is lack of practice: I prefer not to have to work when I'm eating my food, so I avoid things like bone-filled fish. Even with something like fried chicken, I'm more likely to choose chicken fingers/tenders over regular pieces of chicken. Solid meat—no goddamn bones, tendons, chewy chunks of fat, or weird bits of cartilage. That's what I want.
One problem that's been plaguing me for this entire trip has been tee dandruff. The back image of my tee shirt is flaking off because of friction from my backpack, and the little flecks are getting everywhere. The backpack itself is covered with them. From now on, I'm going to have to design two versions of my walk tee: one with no image on the back for me to use when walking, and a regular tee with both front and back designs.
So because I did Courses 8 and 9 today (well, I "did" those courses), I'm now a day ahead of schedule. I decided to reward myself by staying two nights at a hotel, so when I leave this place on Thursday morning, I'll be back on schedule. I had initially chosen a humble motel as my lodging, but I saw, down the hill a ways, a big, dignified-looking establishment called the Lemain Hotel. Something clicked in my head, and I veered off in that direction.
Despite the hotel's huge sign that's visible across town, the actual entrance to the hotel proved to be small and nondescript. I went into what I presumed was the lobby, but no one was there. Looking around, I saw an imposing machine with a touch screen and, putting two and two together, I realized this was a mu-in hotel, i.e., a self-service facility. (Mu-in is literally "no person.") The instructions were pretty straightforward, and the machine spat out an electronic room key for Room 504. That's when I realized I hadn't seen a way to select a two-night stay. What to do? I went up to my room, which looked very nice for W120,000 a night (about $85 US, around the price of your average Doubletree or Holiday Inn). As I looked around, I found a sign with phone numbers on it, and I called the staff to ask about changing my one-night stay to two nights. The lady was very helpful, and a staffer was sent to my place to run my card a second time.
So that was cool. Everything about the hotel room was great... except for the toilet, as I discovered when I went to take a piss. I flushed... and the toilet backed up to a dangerously high level, then slowly sank back down. Not good. And I knew I was going to have to take a shit later. What to do? The obvious solution would have been to call that service number again and request a repair (or a room change), but since the water did eventually sink back down when I flushed, I decided that, just maybe, the toilet would be able to handle my upcoming shit.
Alas, I was wrong. Not to put too fine a point on it, but when I did the dirty deed later in the evening, the toilet backed up... then seemed to do nothing, unlike earlier. The water didn't recede. Calling for toilet service when your toilet is full of shit is embarrassing as hell: it sucks when other people gain intimate knowledge of the contents of your intestines. Then a face-saving thought occurred to me: there’s a Hanaro Mart across the street, so why not get a plunger and some Korean Drāno? So I did that. I poured the Drāno in, waited an hour, and... nothing. So I grimaced, jammed the toilet plunger into the foul water, and attacked the toilet pipe. A few seconds later, whatever had been clogging the toilet came loose, and now, good gentles, the toilet works like a charm. I'll be leaving a note for the staff when I leave this place.
On a cosmic level, it's always frustrating to me that nothing in Korea ever goes simply from A to B—there's always a hitch, a complication, or a fuckup. Perfect hotel room, but the toilet doesn't work is a good example. When I get a regular motel room or yeogwan, I expect there to be problems. But when I pay W120,000 a night for a high-quality room, I expect perfection.
Anyway, when I'm doing one of these long walks, I live a bit like a third-worlder: I wash my clothes by hand in the sink and hang them in some part of the room where clothes-hanging is possible (and when it isn't possible, I usually do something clever with my trekking pole). So right now, my otherwise-immaculate room has my possessions strewn all over it. Clothes are hang-drying; my toiletries are scattered all over one table; my tech is spread all over the room, etc.
So you'll get the full photo essay tonight (under 500 photos! yay!), and I'll devote a chunk of tomorrow to uploading and partially captioning the photos from October 2 (over 690 total!). I'll let you know when those are ready. And now: pics.
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6:55 a.m. |
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A mayak hot dog is literally a drug hot dog, meaning an addictive hot dog. The word mayak is put in front of a lot of food, these days, to make the dishes seem more attractive. |
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cute motto for hikers and bikers |
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I'm guessing the wheels represent orange slices. |
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Seven Fairies Bridge, seen from afar |
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dawg |
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both black and white pigs served |
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high-class resort... |
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...low-class Mickey D's |
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no escaping the Lions Club |
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moving left |
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another liberated soul (and polluter) |
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"Optimal Experience" feels a bit awkward. |
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I wonder if this is a reference to that artisanal chocolate log made to look like a salami. |
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Welcome to the middle of nowhere. |
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well-behaved horse |
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and friends |
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Ignoring the arrows and going right. |
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weird, abandoned, or unfinished buildings near the shore |
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probably the Olle below |
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stopped at a CU convenience store |
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note the lack of a tail |
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twenty minutes of rain |
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another myo encircled by a wall |
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animal assholes, creepily leaving single-file tracks |
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nasty specimen |
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an echinoderm! (brittlestar, I think) |
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And it's not just one echinoderm. |
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Look down.
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They are legion. |
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And they're not alone. |
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Korea's answer to the white cliffs of Dover. |
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ghostly wireframe haenyeo |
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Look, kids: it's weather! |
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We've got cacti. |
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tacky-looking pizzeria |
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still not sure what this is |
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proper walking for health |
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unwontedly artistic niches on the pizzeria's outer wall |
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Can you see my destination at the far right? |
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See it now? |
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shwimteo with stone table and chairs |
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end of Course 8, beginning of Course 9 |
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more animal assholes |
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I try the standard Olle route for Course 9. |
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And right about here, I said, "Fuck this." |
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The alternative route I chose went up a hill. |
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I quickly learned how nasty this hill was. |
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Dong Shim Weon (Same Heart Garden) in hangeul... |
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Dong Shim (Same Heart) in Chinese. |
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up, up, up |
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still going up |
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interesting wall |
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but obviously modern |
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the richie-rich people |
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I found the stonework fascinating. |
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A sad reminder that some of us don't care. |
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still going up |
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Think you're leveling off? Ha! |
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I hope you're feeling this upward slope. |
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Just when you thought you couldn't go any farther up.. |
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Fucker goes on forever. |
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You think you're finally there, but... |
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...still going up. |
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Could this be it? |
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We seem to be going down now. |
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But no! Up we go again. |
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We're leaving the main hill... |
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...but we're not done going up. |
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yet another abandoned property |
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a snake so convoluted it seems mythological |
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At long last—the end of the uphill. |
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You want shwimteos? We've got 'em. |
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I rested here a while. |
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tee dandruff on the jacket |
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ass print |
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looking a little worse for wear |
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looking a little worse for wear |
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another unconventional temple sign: Bukseong-sa, or North Star Temple
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asshole pawprint |
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the Warriors Five |
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Gentlemen, start your 'rections! |
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angel and satyr gettin' it on |
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But the wings are too small! |
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Is this the place with the giant dick statues?
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Bushes don't get enough love in my world. |
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bushy details |
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impressive entrance for a middle school |
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Note how English is prioritized over Korean. |
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The school building itself is also impressive. |
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when stone chairs just aren't enough |
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I thought I was going to eat lunch here. |
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But the note said they were closed every Tuesday. Bastards. |
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end of Course 9, beginning of Course 10
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jeongshik lunch, bony fish front and center |
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See the dawg? |
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dog barks at me from inside building |
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sign for Gwaneum Temple (bodhisattva of compassion) |
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the motel I'd originally planned to stay at |
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a facility that deals with glass (like sheet glass for doors and shop windows) |
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red mailbox |
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Lemain Hotel (where I stayed) |
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nice room, good view |
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damn you, toilet |
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a view of the ocean |
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for superstitious reasons, no fourth floor, just "F" |
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the machine that gave me my room key |
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straightforward instructions |
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angles change everything |
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squid boats getting ready to shove off |
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the right tee is the new one |
"it sucks when other people gain intimate knowledge of the contents of your intestines"
ReplyDeleteYeah, that really stinks!
I had never heard of a self-service hotel before. Is that something unique to Korea?
I feel your pain on that hill, and for me, a road climb is, for some reason, more strenuous than being on a dirt trail. Yep, just when you think you are at the top, nope, it keeps going. And going down and back up gets me cussing. Still, you made it and got to enjoy some nice views from up top.
I enjoyed the countryside and scenery on today's trail. Get some rest and we'll get back after it tomorrow!
This past summer we stayed in a very nice (and expensive) hotel in Texas, when we were visiting Big Bend. Our toilet was also slow to drain, and after seeing that the problem wasn't going to go away by itself, I talked to the very helpful girl at the front desk. She asked if we would mind if they sent in a person to look at it while we were out to dinner, and I said that would be fine. When we came back after dinner, the girl at the front desk said, "You're never going to believe what was stuck in your toilet." I started imagining all sorts of horrifying things, so I was somewhat relieved when she continued, "A bar of soap. Someone tried to flush an entire bar of soap down the toilet." We both rolled our eyes and laughed, and that was the end of that.
ReplyDeleteAnother toilet horror story (why is it always the toilet?). We were staying a boat hotel on the Rhône in Avignon, and on the morning of our last day--when we had to leave early to get to the train station. The plumbing clogged up completely--both the shower and the toilet backed up. HJ had been able to take her shower, but I had to go without, and I also couldn't use the toilet, either. So I went up and tried to explain the situation in my very rusty French (the dude spoke no English--or at least pretended not to). Fortunately(?), everyone else was having this problem, so he understood immediately. Unfortunately, he gave me a Gallic shrug and said there was nothing he could do about it. "I'm in the same situation you are!" he said. Well, yes, I get that, technically and literally speaking, we are both in the same boat, but that doesn't really help. The situation never got resolved, and I had to go to the train station unshowered, unshaven, and unrelieved.
Sometimes shit works out, sometimes it doesn't.
John,
ReplyDeleteI imagine that self-service places aren't unique to Korea. That said, Korea has a lot of mu-in services—more and more these days.
Charles,
Yeah, lodging is always a roll of the dice, no matter the quality.