The Sneezewood Tree (Ptaeroxylon Obliquum) is the farming man's best friend when it comes to fencing, and when manufactured properly it pertains qualities such as longevity and durability. It doesn't rot quite as easily as the average fence pole, and some farmers swear that 'drilling holes into that wood causes sparks to fly,boet'. Basically, the Sneezewood fence pole is just better than most of the other fence poles. I tell you, though, I boarded the plane from Port Elizabeth International to embark on a trip to do a bit of teaching in South Korea, and my brain thought this was a helluva thing. Said brain was tying knots in my stomach so tense that it would have made Ptaeroxylon Obliquum seem soft enough to use as a comforting bosom to console a Lower Albany cricketer after a big loss.
The plane trip was largely uneventful. A couple cups of coffee at Joburg International and nearly missing the check-in at the Dubai stopover (I got a comfortable Forty Winks) made up most of the waiting time. After boarding the final flight I was glad to find that I had been seated next to Seol, an English speaking Korean who happily kept the conversation one-sided. She spoke about a menagerie of topics and was super friendly. I was pretty stoked to have a neighbor (whose name was peculiarly similar to Korea's capital) to speak English with. She had just started chatting about the night-life, must-visit areas and sneak-cheats of her home country when she was upgraded to business class because of her 'deep vein thrombosis'. Hmmmm, sounds like a good tactic to try next time.
The 18:00 Korea Standard Time landing at Incheon International was a safe one after 9 hours of stop-over time and 21 hours (or thereabouts fly time). The oak who came to pick me up from the airport didn't speak a word of English and seeing as I hadn't a clue about Korean we just got on with the order of things. He dutifully stuck the luggage in the back of his taxi-van, or what could be described as the black-paint version of the Scooby Doo's 'The Mystery Machine'. The taxi vehicle strolled through the evening, though every now and again a strange whine kept sounding from godknowswhere, similar to that which emanates from aeroplane engines. I thought to myself that maybe I was dreaming and still in fact on the plane so I pinched myself to check. Nope, no dream, I was still in the darkened Mystery Machine. After a short inspection I found the source of the noise was coming from the tyres' contact with weirdly tarred roads.
Close on two hours after leaving Incheon airport I arrived in PyeongTaek to a room just bigger than the size of an average South African pantry. I would later be told by a coworker that Korea has a housing problem, namely that 70million people in such a small space (Korea is about 500km long and 200km wide, about half the size of Eastern Cape) is always going to cause a bit of admin. To try lighten up the bare loft I went out to draw some cash to purchase a few items, like a bathroom floormat, rubbish bin, washing powder and whatever else I could find. I didn't have any money because apparently I have no idea about traveling, so I made my way to an ATM to draw a Korean Won or two. It was my lucky day, because the ATM I chose to use was hungry for plastic, and it satisfied itself by swallowed my bank card. And that's how Korea told me "Welcome, boet!" Luckily a bank employee made his way to said ATM an hour afterwards and retrieved the card from the ATM's digestive tract.
Korea is a chilled place.
The plane trip was largely uneventful. A couple cups of coffee at Joburg International and nearly missing the check-in at the Dubai stopover (I got a comfortable Forty Winks) made up most of the waiting time. After boarding the final flight I was glad to find that I had been seated next to Seol, an English speaking Korean who happily kept the conversation one-sided. She spoke about a menagerie of topics and was super friendly. I was pretty stoked to have a neighbor (whose name was peculiarly similar to Korea's capital) to speak English with. She had just started chatting about the night-life, must-visit areas and sneak-cheats of her home country when she was upgraded to business class because of her 'deep vein thrombosis'. Hmmmm, sounds like a good tactic to try next time.
The 18:00 Korea Standard Time landing at Incheon International was a safe one after 9 hours of stop-over time and 21 hours (or thereabouts fly time). The oak who came to pick me up from the airport didn't speak a word of English and seeing as I hadn't a clue about Korean we just got on with the order of things. He dutifully stuck the luggage in the back of his taxi-van, or what could be described as the black-paint version of the Scooby Doo's 'The Mystery Machine'. The taxi vehicle strolled through the evening, though every now and again a strange whine kept sounding from godknowswhere, similar to that which emanates from aeroplane engines. I thought to myself that maybe I was dreaming and still in fact on the plane so I pinched myself to check. Nope, no dream, I was still in the darkened Mystery Machine. After a short inspection I found the source of the noise was coming from the tyres' contact with weirdly tarred roads.
Close on two hours after leaving Incheon airport I arrived in PyeongTaek to a room just bigger than the size of an average South African pantry. I would later be told by a coworker that Korea has a housing problem, namely that 70million people in such a small space (Korea is about 500km long and 200km wide, about half the size of Eastern Cape) is always going to cause a bit of admin. To try lighten up the bare loft I went out to draw some cash to purchase a few items, like a bathroom floormat, rubbish bin, washing powder and whatever else I could find. I didn't have any money because apparently I have no idea about traveling, so I made my way to an ATM to draw a Korean Won or two. It was my lucky day, because the ATM I chose to use was hungry for plastic, and it satisfied itself by swallowed my bank card. And that's how Korea told me "Welcome, boet!" Luckily a bank employee made his way to said ATM an hour afterwards and retrieved the card from the ATM's digestive tract.
Korea is a chilled place.
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