South Korea - part 1

I'm not a comfortable traveller. Or rather, I like to travel but only if in total comfort. Anything less than being met by a man with a board with my name on it at airport arrivals results in anything between cold sweats and abject terror. You wouldn't necessarily be able to tell looking at me. You might see a slightly moist individual looking around with aloofness, refusing to make eye contact with anyone for fear that they may ask something and so my total lack of capability be exposed. I still recall doing that for almost 90 minutes at Domodedovo airport, while my man with his board, with my name on it, staggered towards me through the Moscow evening rush hour traffic. But I digress.....

That's why arriving at Incheon international airport in Seoul, finding my way to the airport express, getting my tickets (thanks JK!!) and the AREX to Seoul train station, and then the KTX rapid express to Busan, successfully meeting the wife halfway down there (thanks again JK, thanks Jay Han!!) ranks as.....a miracle. I mean, it all went so well! I'm amazed....as we pulled into Daejeon station I couldn't shake the thought that Roberta would be on another platform, or at another train station, but nope, she was in the right place at the right time. And I was in the right train too. Is this how travel is supposed to be? Smooth and seamless? I could get used to it.

Other than overcoming my fear that somehow the trip would be totally fucked up by me / fate / me + fate, what struck me most on that first arrival into South Korea was Seoul train station. For I was alone. For the 45 minutes or so as I wandered around, seeking a decent coffee (and finding it, plus amazing olive bread - Paris Croissant I salute you) I didn't see another western face. There had been a few on the plane, fewer on the AREX train, and definitely one or two with me on the escalator, but none thereafter. You don't really appreciate being the odd one out until you really are. It's not like anyone stared, quite the opposite; maybe they too are poor travelers seeking to avoid eye contact, as no one looked at me, no one seemed to notice me. I was merely another body in the crowd, someone to walk past, around, bump into (no one says sorry, apparently this is typical). But as the only non-Asian in Seoul train station for 45 minutes I have to say I absolutely loved it; like I was the first western traveller to this part of the world...(this would all evaporate when we visit the temples later in the week).

Having successfully met up with r. we arrived in Busan as stars. As we got off the train we were met by hundreds of flashes, as a mass of photographers took our photos. My sense of trailblazing across Asia had abated somewhat by now, so I was simply startled. Turns out we were in the same train as some tv or film star coming to Busan for the international film festival. We don't know who he was, or even what he looked like, but only that we were in the way, as his female fans pushed past us to get close to him.

No one said sorry.