2003-01-22 - 9:53 p.m.

Part Two:

January 19, 2003

03:30 I walked around the quay and saw a couple sleeping in a nook. Thery had frame backpacks, so I guessed they were tourists traveling and camping. After an hour of walking, I bedded down on the landing halfway up the teak stairs on the back side of the Marine Messe building. It was high enough to be un-noticable by people on the sidewalk, but below the line-of-sight of any MM watchmen inside the building. Slept solidly for over an hour, under my FIFA bathtower and on top of folded clothes put at pressure points (knees, hips, shoulders).

After that, I rose and walked further afield. I explored the area around the quay and learned that the noise that I'd taken for ship-loading was construction work, some plumbing being put under a road. They dug it up after "rush hour" last evening and are hustling to get it done by morning. There are 2 new buildings almost ready to use, a hotel called Suntower connected by an elevated walkway to the Fukuoka International Congress Center.

I got to this via a wide brick walkway lined with granite posts interspersed with river boulders which had interesting mixtures of white and black strata. The granite posts all held lights and had hearts and plaques fastened to one side of each one.

Beyond this area was a commercial zone, shops in the ground floor and offices or apartments upstairs. Most of these buildings were four or five stories. The local fauna included a pack of three dogs, a man in bathrobe and slippers hustling in the cold toward the 7-Eleven, and several folks on bikes and mopeds. One fellow had a German Shepherd running beside his bike, as big as Fred, Irene's service dog. Another young man had a miniature collie in his bike's basket.

Three young girls just walked past, chattering and laughing, with an older woman following close behind. She gave me a wary look. And, when I came to this bench, I startled a huge brown bird, perched on a docking post. I think it was that bird who just flew by, making a rusty-gate complaint. I must be in his favorite fishing spot.

Probably I should go take another nap. The wind has shifted and the moon is dim through thickening clouds. It just keeps getting colder and damper. I got lucky; I don't think the rain will start before the ferry terminal opens.

07:35 a.m. -- In Ferry Terminal. Now we rejoin our intrepid adventurer: Lucky me! I walked around the MM parking lot until I warmed up. Those men on bicycles? Around ten of 'em were camped out under the various stairways into the building. A couple of them had "refrigerator crate" huts under there. The man I talked to earlier in the evening was one of them, and had put a pile of cardboard outside before going to bed. I considered, but passed on it.

So I decided to check out the hedges around the ferry terminal. I walked up one side and down the other. Finally, I saw a gap where I could get into a place under a tree. There was some big white lump off to my left. I checked it out. It was a disintegrating plastic bag. I stuck my hand in; it was soft and fuzzy, like a teddy bear. A thick blanket! It appeared to have been tossed in there two or three months ago, by the condition of the plastic bag. Smelled a little musty, but it was wonderful! I rolled up in it, snuggled down and asleep within minutes. Only woke once between 4:30 and 7;05, to roll over and retuck it around me.

When I determined to arise (folks were trooping past me to the building), I stretched and limbered up before actually sticking my head above the camellia bushes. My hands were the coldest, though I had gloves on them. I kept getting spasmodic shivers. Nevertheless, rolling and wrapping the luggage took only 5 minutes and I was in the warm terminal very shortly. After a brief bathroom visit, I'm thawing in a comfortable chair, writing this and looking out at the foggy morning.

10:35 a.m. -- Aboard the Beetle: Went to swap my ticket for a boarding pass around 8:30, after changing to fresh clothes. They wanted 400 yen or 5,000 won for "departure tax." I smelled a rip-off as I had checked the exchange rate in Pusan and it was 106.51 yen for 1,000 won. So I appealed to the other passengers and got 400 yen for 4,000 won. [The clerk really wanted American dollars, but those were safe in Seoul. {So now, I've got only enough cash to take the slow train to Seoul, 6 hours instead of 4 1/2. If I can get right on, it'll still get me to the 7:30 meeting, but not supper with Carrie.}]

Once I'd secured my boarding pass, I went down to the cafe and begged a cup of hot water ("no yen," with the Korean crossed-forearms gesture). They put so much boiling water in my cup that I added two more heaping spoons of instant mix and made a quart of coffee by pouring the concentrate into my water jug. The only ingredient that didn't melt was the sugar, so I poured back and forth, and stirred. Then I mopped up the dribbles with the brown towel.

By this time all but six people had gone through Immigration. I trotted to the end of the line, and a couple in their 70s. We ended up seated together. They gave me two tangerines and I contributed a ziplock baggie for the peels.

The "inflight TV" is the Sony Golf Tournament in Hawaii. Tough course! Most holes are par 4. The top six players are -10 to -15 in the third round. The trickiest part is the different heights and slants of the greens. Some have a dip near the cup and others have a rise (mound) around the cup. "Mashta" is "birdie," "bacara" is "sand(trap)" and "bogey" is "bogey" in Japanese.

11:17 a.m. The other Beetle passed us headed for Fukuoka. We're making good time.

12:43 Almost to Pusan. Looks like a marathon on the TV. I cat-napped for the last hour, fading in and out, despite the coffee. I noticed earlier that there is no remote speedometer readout on this Beetle. Otherwise, they're much the same.

18:40 -- On the Seoul Train: At Pusan station, they at first sold me a ticket that would have gotten me into Seoul after the subways stopped running. I couldn't find Jim's phone number in my new address book. Called Mihwa's mom for his number but she couldn't figure out what I needed. So I called Yong and asked him to translate for me. After a bit he called back and said she told him that she would tell Mihwa to call him when she got home. I told Yong about walking most of the night to keep warm. He understood, having been in a similar situation. Somehow, that gave me the gumption to go back to the ticket counter and explain that I needed an earlier train because of the Seoul subway midnight shutdown. That it was too far for me to walk to my house from Yeoungdung-po, and I didn't think I could cope with a(nother) night on the streets. So, to make a long story short, I will get to Yeoungdung-po at 10 p.m. [YDP is better than Seoul Station because it is a more direct set of transfers to Anam, a shorter route by 20 minutes or so.]

Yong called back just now and I told him the good news. He was ready to come meet my train and give me a ride home! What a good guy!

The train is clearing out now, but the aisles were jammed with us "standees" for the first two hours. I stowed my Bean bag overhead, folded the shopping cart and am sitting on the Wonderful Fukuoka Blanket behind the last row of seats.

A very charming young man is sitting in front of me. He's not handsome, but he has an infectious smile and a hooked nose that wrinkles when he laughs. In other words, he looks like a guy I fell for in my high-school years, who was half French-and-Indian, the other half Italian (that northeastern breed of Italians that look a little Asian anyway, with perhaps a dash of Tartar or Turkic genes).

I'm going to check out the snack car. I've eaten about all the puffed rice I want to for a while, at least in the "straight, no chaser" vein. Well, I might have some in milk, for breakfast. Even then, I will have to put in some puffed corn to give it texture and flavour.

19:50 - 7:50 p.m. The snack car door doesn't work like the other ones do, with a palm plate. Also, there was no rubber safety screen closing the space between cars. It was creepy, though the 60 mile-an-hour wind was exhilarating. I decided not to fight with the hard-to-open doorknob while teetering on a metal plate over the car couplings. Retreated to the unoccupied smoking foyer in the rear of the pentultimate car. That door opens and closes hard, too, but it doesn't close tightly, so the air is fresh and cool. Quite a relief from the stuffy air in car # 8 where my luggage is. When I was thoroughly cooled, I came back. Good thing, too: a lady gave me her seat when she got off at Yungdong, about 2 hours south of Yeoungdung-po. This Mu-gung-hwa-ho train sometimes runs fast, sometimes slow, like now. We're on a very lurchy section, side-to-side lurches. The engineer has slowed to about 20 or 25 mph.

Snack wagon! I got a bottle of fruit-flavoured water, half a liter for a chunwon (80 cents U.S.). Two Percent is its name. Truth in advertising, what a concept!

We picked up quite a slew of young people at Taejon; most had standing tickets. I gave the lady's seat to a girl who'd been on her feet for more than an hour and retreated to my "cubby" and The Blanket.

These boots aren't made for all the walking I did last night. I'm going to put the ortho-liners in my "sensible" athletic shoes tomorrow and change the pattern of pressure on my poor tired feet. Today, walking has been difficult, even though I took out the inserts and put on my "silver" padded athletic socks last night.

~~~~~~I ran out of steam and quit writing here. ~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Epilogue:

The train got to Yeoungdung-po at 10:05 p.m. I transferred to the "subway platform," which is above-ground and stood in the biting wind for 40 minutes, a very unusual wait in Seoul, where the longest gap between Metro trains is normally 3 to 8 minutes. I could have walked to Shingil, my first transfer station in half that time.

At Geoduk, I slipped on a wet spot and pulled my tailor muscle. By the time I got to Anam at ll:30, I had all I could do to walk the distance from the handicapped elevator to my front door. What a relief to be home! My bed sure felt good.

What I've learned: (1.) I need to ask for help from my Korean friends in getting advance reservations, in the future. (2.) It would be prudent to have some Yen, next time . (3.) Don't budget so tightly; there will always be unexpected expenses.

The important thing is, I survived, thanks to Providence.

I washed up the Wonderful Fukuoka Blanket with a cup-and-a-half of bleach to kill the mildew. The binding ribbon must have been silk; it was destroyed by the mildew, but the body of the blanket is synthetic fiber and it is completly solid.

Why was it there? All's I can figger is someone must have decided that it was too bulky to take on the ferry. But, how come it laid there so long, with all those homeless guys on bicycles in the neighbourhood? It saved me from hypothermia, at any rate. I feel like the Good Lord is taking care of me. Why? I don't know. Does it matter why?

Thanks for reading.

Happy Trails!

~ Sil in Corea (and doggoned glad to be back here, too!)

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