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I stepped off the rapid limousine airport bus and studied my new surroundings. Cars, predominantly lustrous electrical vehicles, beeped as buses aggressively weaved through the traffic. Soaring skyscrapers stood tall over effulgent alleys of restaurants and buskers on the streets below. I jolted backwards as a fellow pedestrian tugged my arm as to protect me from the madness. I wished to say thank you, but I had not yet mastered the basics of the Korean language. Later, I would discover, there is no requirement for the P’s and T’s. For all Japan had offered for my jaunt across the Land of the Rising Sun, it somewhat lacked the spontaneous adventure. Korea, ironically known as the Land of the Morning Calm, was anything but. I gleed with excitement and trotted to my guesthouse accommodation. 

Despite the gritting reputation of Seoul, the first night had been very subdued. I had arrived on the quiet night of the week. No, not a Sunday, a Tuesday. Impatient and incapable of squishing my alpha-male characteristics for one night, my four beers had left my head rather dreary the next day. But I had no desire to remain in bed, as a friend I had met in Japan was in Seoul, and wished to hike Namsan Park with me. My friend, Flavio, a very jolly and jubilant French man, was delighted to see me, as he danced his way into the guesthouse and hugged me graciously. My elegantly long arms swaddled the young French man as a girl studied the embracement. She asked how we knew each other. I replied, stating we had met in Japan. Flavio, continued the story in his muddled, thick, flowery French accent. After the sensual hugging and the flowery accent, this would be a good opportunity to affirm that Flavio is gay. The girl’s next question is to ask how long Flavio and I have been dating. Flavio booms into a high-pitched bubble of giggles. Do I let him pour water on this fire of a canard, or shall I? Flavio continues his hearty chortle before calming down to find the words “No, no we are not.” Hmm, not so sure if that quashed the question if I was gay myself, but so be it. 

The hike was strenuous and challenging, but the reward was worth every step of endured pain. The smooth collusion of burnt red and bright yellow provided a prodigious sunset over the comely city skyline. At his request, I spent several minutes taking photographs of mon copain at the photograph point. Flavio later asked if I, myself, would like a photograph. I tended not to take a lot of personal photographs. I had a parochial view on the fragility of social media. That is, anything that is not tangible, can evaporate at any moment. Anything that is not tangible, therefore was not devoted time and attention. Rather than debate this unpopular opinion to Flavio and spark some enmity between us, I accepted, and let out a gauche smile. At this moment, a familiar looking Australian, lumbered over to us. I recognised the blonde Gold Coast resident from our accommodation. He loomed, with his 6ft 4 frame, and in a gravely harsh accent, said “it must be nice to have an Instagram boyfriend as your camera man.” I forestalled any awkward moments of clarification by sardonically hissing at him. 

I arrived at dinner wearing an “I Love Korean Girls” t-shirt I had picked up at the night market. I did not even take a moment to barter. “Aren’t you cold in just a t-shirt?” the group would ask, in the brutality of the minus degrees Celsius temperature brought to us by emerging Siberian winds. “I.. love.. girls..” I would shiver back. I awoke in the morning with a sniffle and a runny nose. My morning amble to the pharmacy provided me a period of reflection for what I’d experienced so far. It was remarkable how two societies were so different. The Japanese had surrendered their rule over Korea not even more than 80 years ago. Two neighbours, two contrasting societies. Japan was orderly, modest, and impeccably clean. Its neighbour, was extravagant, flashy, and a lot more littered. At times I had felt that perhaps the Japanese were suppressed due to the societal expectations and often lived a solitary life. Koreans were expressive and their culture supported collectivism. It was not possible to dine for one, couples dressed to match, and dogs were fashion symbols tailored with Elton John style sunglasses. It was a fascinating, modernised city celebrated by history and museums, but after several days of late nights, including a rapturous event by DJ Boring, I needed a break. I wished to return to Seoul in a week or so, but for some desperate downtime, I purchased a new Sudoko puzzle book and caught the train to the fishing city of Busan.