Friday, January 8, 2010

Seoul to Jeju

De-boarding in Seoul I was anxious to elongate my body but hating my big ass bag.  Blisters had started to form on my hands from gripping the bag straps when my shoulder hurt too much.  I wandered out of the plane into the airport at Seoul/Incheon.  I followed the others and found my way to the immigration line for non-Koreans.  There were two different lines going, both about fifteen people deep.  I saw a clock and decided not to worry too much about the time because things seemed to be moving efficiently so far.  I weighed my odds on which line to get in and of course I picked the wrong line.  This always happens to me at any supermarket.  The fellow travelers in my line were a string of incompetent slow pokes fumbling through their pockets and bags in search of the one thing that they should have already had in hand while waiting in line.  Their Passport.  I brushed it off for awhile until it seemed that everyone in front of me was on acid or something.  I started to grumble a little looking at the minutes tick by as the line next to me moved through Immigration efficiently at a rate of three to every one person in the short bus line that I picked.  I started silently hating on the effeminate white guy in front of me in his Lacrosse Euro-sneakers with a pet cat in a cage.  I guess he couldn't leave the pussy at home.  I assessed that he wasn't one who was up for the pussy by the way he swished.

Finally it was my turn to pass through Immigration.  I was excited to get my Passport stamped.  "Jeju", the man said and smiled.  He probably took his honeymoon there as many Koreans do.  I tried to ask him about where to catch a train and he just pointed to where I needed to go to get my bags.  I put in one last prayer for my bags to be there before I descended the escalators to baggage claim.

Down in baggage I was all confused as to which carousel would have my bags on it and after waiting at  one for a few minutes I decide it would be better to try an ask someone.  I made gestures to some airport worker guy towards my ticket and he pointed me to three carousels down.  My carryon had shot my shoulder by this point and I could feel the skin want to rip from my palms as I struggled over to the correct carousel.  There were my bags.  I stacked my carryon on top of one of them and pulled the strap over the extended handle hoping it would balance better.  Now I had to switch hands as I pulled the one stacked bag setup that weighed 120 lbs. easily.

I needed to find the train to Gimpo Airport and was informed that I should make my way three exits down and across the street.  I could only see as far as two exits down, approximately 100 yards.  I was not pumped up about this and started hoofing it with the awkward, extremely heavy luggage and my skateboard that I tried to fix to one of the bags needing to switch hands every 70 feet or so until I finally reached the exit to the train terminal across the street.  It was cold with snow slush outside but I managed to be sweating from the strain the bags put on my arms.  I felt like I was pressed for time now because of how slowly I moved while trying to move as quickly as I could with the stupid suitcases, carryon and skateboard.  I found my way to the Train Ticket machine and thankfully a Korean woman helped me purchase my one way ticket and I found myself waiting with about five other people for the next train to Gimpo.

The train pulled up about four minutes later and I had just collected a little strength finally.  The doors opened and I was determined to get on first because of size of the bags I had with me.  There was a four inch space between the depot floor and the train.  I tried to force my bags over the gap pulling them quickly and my bags got stuck!  My carryon swung off the top of the suitcase and fell to the floor.  It was a cluster-fuck of bags blocking the entrance to the train.  A few people waiting to board helped me lurch them into the train.  I felt like a big, fat loser and could do nothing to not wear the insecurities that were mounting, exhaustion and uncertainty on my mug as the train began to move forward.  I felt like all eyes were on me.  I had to stand with my bags in the aisle of the doorway on the opposite side that I had entered because all the seats were taken.  The ride took about 25 minutes and three stops until it was time for me to get off.  After sitting without moving for eleven hours I was more than happy to stand the entire time.

Gimpo Airport was confusing.  Thankfully there were some native English speakers that pointed me to the escalator that would take me to check in for my Jeju flight.  I hurried as best as I could and when I reached check-in the attendant told me my flight was delayed for an hour and a half.  All that rushing for no need.  Again I welcomed the pause in the action and found a place to sit with my bulky gear.  I massaged my red blistering hands before it was time to board.

The flight on Asiana Air was brief and I had a seat to myself.  Once again the stewardesses were cute.  They wore Santa hats and a flight attendant who had a seat by the emergency exit right next to me said "Melly Clismas" and gave me a green pencil case.  When we landed, there was an announcement on the intercom.  Passenger (my name here) report to the office at baggage claim.  I was surprised to hear my name.  Was it the welcoming committee?   I gathered my bags and a gentleman took me to the office.  There was a phone call for me.  It was my boss.  She informed me that their was a taxi outside that would take me to my apartment in Seogwipo.  It was late and snowing and the roads were slick she explained, so the cab driver would take me.  It was paid for.

It was dark and freezing-windy.  I got in the cab and tried to make small talk with the cabby.  He spoke no English what-so-ever.  It was a slightly uncomfortable and high speed, hour long trip to Seogwipo in virtual silence.  I tried to map out the roads from the airport as we drove.  Heading up near Mount Halla-san their were flurries of snow with a little dusting on the ground.  We passed a car that had spun off the road at one point.  I was surprised to see snow.

When we arrived, the Director of my school was there to let me into my apartment.  This was my new home for the year ahead.  It was late, around 12:30 at this point and I was left wondering what Monday would bring.  I knew I was supposed to go to school and figured someone would rally me in the morning to take me there.  I unpacked a bit, looked over the apartment briefly, but fatigue set in fast.  It was a solid 24 hours of travel that I had just endured.  Three airports, three planes, a train and a taxi got me to where I needed to be.  I wanted to shower but the bathroom set up was funky and there was a hot water heater to deal with.  I decided it would be easier to figure out in the morning.  I was so happy to be done with the heavy bags ordeal and caught a few winks without any real trouble.  I was curious about Jeju, Korea by daylight but the wonder faded as did I off to sleep.

I had made it.

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