I Heart Kuala Lumpur

The infamous Petronas Towers

So it turns out that my initial impression of Kuala Lumpur wasn't just a knee-jerk reaction to being relieved to be out of Manila but that I really DO love this city. Whew!


Inside the luxury mall at the base of the towers.
And this is just a TINY little part of the
structure. It's pretty incredible.

The first thing I noticed upon arriving yesterday was that I saw more white people within five minutes here than I did in five days in Manila. Literally. So I could immediately tell I would blend in more and could make my way around less conspicuously, which was a nice reprieve. So today I took full advantage of my total anonymity and did what I do best while in a new place: I walked.


Cold Drink of the Day #1. I don't actually
know what it was, and it wasn't very good,
but it was cold and cold is good here.

My first destination was, you guessed it, Petronas Towers. You've surely seen the images of it, the two enormous twin towers that are joined by a walkway about halfway up. At the time they were built, they were the world's tallest building, a record they held for 6 years (until Taiwan totally showed them up). They're still the world's tallest twin building but, let's be honest, that's not nearly as impressive. Either way, they ARE impressive both in height and sheer overall magnitude.

By the time I got there (only about a 15-20 minute walk), I was, as is usual for me now, dripping with sweat. So, despite me not being even a little bit of a shopper, I was super grateful for the very upscale mall that is situated at the base of the towers. Mostly, I was glad for the AC and the cold drinks in the mall. I drink a lot of cold drinks these days. It is amazing just how much sweat one gal can produce in a single day, as it turns out. I've been hot places before, I've been humid places before, I have NEVER been to such a stiflingly hot and humid place before. It's kicking my butt.

But I refuse to let it keep me from doing what I want to do so I keep pressing on. I have, however, figured out a pretty good system. I don't even bother taking a shower in the am before leaving (gross, I know, but there really is NO point) and I head out to do what I want to do. Then I head back to the hotel around dinner time to cool off/refresh/shower/change before heading back out in the evening to enjoy the "cooler" temps. Pretty genius, I have to say.

The Bukit Bintang district, my home in
Kuala Lumpur

Tonight my outing was to simply enjoy the area my hotel is in. Turns out I scored big-time and am located in an excellent spot, right in the heart of one of the most popular areas of the city: Bukit Bintang. It's known for being the shopping and entertainment district of the city and when you walk out at night, it's slightly reminiscent of NY's Times Square. It was really nice to be in a place where I felt so safe and totally comfortable walking around outside in a place bustling with people and activity. I love that, I love being in places that thrive at night. That being said, it also helps that there is a bubble tea stand located there. Because, as we all know, you can never go wrong if bubble tea is involved.

Best shoes I've seen so far on this whole trip. Oh, how I
wish this picture did them even a little bit of justice.

Kuala Lumpur, Baby!

I have to confess, by the time my departure from Manila was approaching, I could not get out of there fast enough. While I loved the people, I just did not like much about the city and was ready to beat it out of there. So the fact that getting out became such a hassle in and of itself didn't help me to leave it with the fondest of memories.

This picture doesn't even begin to do justice to the chaotic
scene that was leaving Manila. You can see the check-in sign
in the front, kind of make out the blue little booth on the left
where you pay your exit tax and see the Immigration sign
on the far end. This was right before I'd finally made it to
check-in so there weren't many people in front of me and
you unfortunately lose the sense of "people crush".

I don't know why I should have been surprised but the airport departure procedure was one of the most chaotic I have ever seen. I've traveled to a lot of countries, I've been to a lot of airports and I've passed through an awful lot of immigration desks but never anything like this.

The first thing I noticed was when the taxi pulled up to the airport, I was SURE he had taken me to the wrong place. This was not the airport I had arrived in. Turns out they have different terminals for different things, but not terminals like we think of, terminals as in each is essentially its own little airport. And apparently the flight I was on flew out of this tiny little one seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Okay, no biggie, I thought.

Until I walked in the front door. It was one long room, approximately 100-150 feet in length and no more than 25 across. The first thing you do is put your bag through "security", which technically has both a luggage belt and a metal detector although I can't see that either serves any real purpose. When I walked through the metal detector, it went off immediately but the guy just gave me an unconcerned look and waved me through anyhow. Now I felt really safe. Okay, no biggie, I thought.

Until I really started paying attention to what lay ahead of me. I realized that EVERYTHING was in this one small, hot, oppressively crowded room. Everything: "security", check-in, airport tax station and immigration. For all the airlines. For all the passengers. Here, in this one room. Okay, no biggie, I thought.

Until I got through "security" and realize that the mass of people I was standing in was actually the check-in line. No different lines for different airlines or different flights but one big, massive, jumbled line. And it wasn't moving. At all. I stood there for about 15 minutes, unmoving (and unable to move) when I started getting nervous. I had arrived a solid 2 hours early but now, as I was really taking in the non-moving scene around me, I was starting to get nervous. There were about 75 people in line and TWO people working at checking them in. And they were working very, veeery slowly. I struck up a conversation with an Australian girl near me and she was as staggered by what she was witnessing as I was. It took at least 45 minutes just to move the 20 or so feet that the check-in line covered. By the time I got there, the oppressive heat was starting to hit. Okay, no biggie, I thought.

Kuala Lumpur, my home for the next 4 days

Until I finally got checked in. And then I saw that there was a little booth off to one side where you had to pay your "exit tax". Awesome, hadn't planned on that and had spent down to my LAST peso with the cab (up until that point I had actually been pretty impressed with just how well I had planned it out!). I didn't have a peso to my name and I suddenly need 550 of them. Gulp. But that worry almost came second to the concern over how I was ever going to even get to the ONE window to pay it (or attempt to beg/plead/cry my way out of it). I hadn't thought it possible, but the section after check-in and before immigration, the place where you pay the exit fee was even more cramped and congested and chaotic and hot than the other. There wasn't even a hint of a line and all you could do was push against everyone else to get up to the little booth to pay your money. Chaos, pure and total chaos. And it didn't help that it was 4:30 in the morning and it was hot and humid and at any given point about 5 people were touching me. My patience was running out. But I fought my way to the window and, miracle of miracles, they accepted credit cards. Whew! Great, making progress, I thought!

And then I realize that, contrary to logical belief, things started going even SLOWER after that. Once you paid, there was literally nowhere to go, nowhere to move as the crush of people was just so insane. There were two lanes for immigration and they inconceivably moved even slower than anything previous. By this point me and the Aussie girl were fast friends and it helped to have at least one other person there who I could commiserate with. You reached a point where it was just SO insane that all you could do was laugh. Another 45 minutes waiting there, the whole time with the girl behind me either actively pressed up against me or bumping into me. My patience was definitely wearing thin. But... I made it! Okay, I made it, I thought! And then.

I had to pass through another bag inspection when I got to the "gate" (which was one big sealed-off room that everyone for all flights was corralled into, kind of like trapped animals) and they started taking some of my things. At this point, I was so aggravated and so hot and so tired that I didn't care and couldn't even muster up much more than a head nod when they told me what they wouldn't allow to pass. All told, to move approximately 150 feet from check-in to immigration took me nearly an hour and 45 minutes. But okay, I made it, I thought!

And then my flight was delayed. Sigh. And then I gave up.

All that to say that getting to Kuala Lumpur this morning was a sweet relief and I instantly loved it. Maybe it was just such a relief to be out of Manila that anything would seem like paradise in comparison. Or maybe, just maybe, this city really is as cool as I anticipate it will be and I will love it here. Yeah, I think that's it.

Chilla in Manila

Manila Bay fishermen

Haven't written much the past few days because, well, there hasn't been much to write. Manila is humid, humid, humid and I can't walk more than 5 minutes before being covered in sweat, which tends to sap one's motivation to be out conquering a place. I've kind of just gotten used to it, frankly, and hardly even notice anymore when I'm glistening head to toe, but twice I have walked into coffee shops to get a cold drink and when I got up to the register, before even saying a word, the worker just handed me a bunch of paper towels. Oh yes, it's very attractive.

This guy was washing his laundry.

So I've been going slow and taking it easy. I walk slowly and I take lots of drink breaks and I don't try to cram in as much as I would normally. One whole day consisted of me sauntering along the bay walk and meandering down around the pier area, about a mile in each direction. It was nice and I got to talk to lots of people and I got to drink lots of iced coffees along the way. And that was that day.

One of the nicer views of Manila that I saw. Hard to reconcile
that if you walk one block into town, it is a completely
different world.

Another day consisted of me going to the big market area, Divisoria. It's a street market that covers about 50 blocks (I'm totally guessing) and goes up and down streets and in and out of tiny alleys and seems never-ending and as if it's totally impossible to see it all. The nice thing about it is that it's a market for the locals, not a tourist thing (although I don't really think this city has any tourist things), so the merchants don't bother you, no one is harassing you to buy things as they're seemingly not really that interested in your business. Which was quite nice to just be able to walk around and look at things and not feel pressured constantly as has happened in other countries, which left me feeling like I couldn't look at anything. Of course, it didn't stop people from staring as I think I may have stood out there even more than anywhere else in the city as the market is set in a particularly dodgy and run-down end of town and clearly doesn't attract outsiders (I saw exactly one other white person my whole time there). It's one of the most chaotic market scenes I've ever been witness to and, having been to India, that's saying something. The filth and trash and noise and foul air and car fumes and people peeing in the street and raw meat/fish laying out in the baking sun and tens of thousands of people crushed together and cars/trucks running through the middle of the whole thing all made for quite the assault on every one of the 5 senses. It was actually one of the cooler things I did in Manila!

The funny part of this picture is that, even though you can't
make it out, the sign posted on that fence reads
"No Fishing This Area". Yep, the sign in the middle
of all of those guys fishing.

Other than that, not much to report. Manila has not been a favorite and I'm ready to leave tomorrow (three days here would have been more than sufficient). But I'll leave you with a few random items/experiences I've garnered along the way:

1. They use paper straws here. Which, if you think about it, makes no sense. Roll up a piece of paper and then suck something wet up through it and tell me what happens. Yep.

2. I noticed immediately that Manila seemingly has no crossing signs at intersections (I did see one but it was broken... of course). There is no system, you just go for it. On my first day, still playing the good American and waiting for some sort of obvious sign as to when I could cross a multi-lane road, an old guy saw me, came over and grabbed my arm and led me right out into the middle of the street, him holding up his hand to cars and them stopping along the way until we reached the other side. And that is the way it's done here. You wait for the tiniest of pauses in traffic, hold your breath, close your eyes and go for it.

The baywalk

3. Poverty is rampant here and I'm sure not many people can afford to buy a whole pack of cigarettes. Which is why it's brilliant that the street vendors will allow you to buy just one at a time. They also keep a lighter on a string on the cart that the customers can use. Genius!

4. I was sitting outside my hotel one day and saw some boys across the street picking on a much littler kid who was crying. A guy who had been sitting near me got up and crossed the street and yelled at the older boys. I didn't understand what he said but it must have worked and they suddenly seemed very ashamed and helped the little kid up. I love that stuff, how adults in other countries still totally rule and, even when it's a complete stranger, the younger people totally respect them and do as they're told. America, take note.

And just one block in from the bay area, this is what
Manila really looks like.

5. On my last day I stopped into a tiny little café to have some dinner. As it was totally packed, I was shown to a random chair that was open at someone's table. I said that was alright, I would just take the food with me but they insisted so I got plunked down with a whole group of strangers, whether they liked it or not. I ate fast.

6. Normally in other countries, there always seems to be an over-abundance of stray dogs roaming the streets. Always, without fail. But here there are cats. And lots of them. I didn't see one stray dog but I saw hundreds of stray cats. Odd.

7. I have seen VERY few other white people here, as in less than 20 total in 5 whole days here. However, the majority of the ones I saw were white guys who are with Filipino women. And my sense is that these aren't the kind of men who are real popular with the ladies back home. But I guess that here they're pretty big stuff (someone told me that on $1,000 a month you can live like a "princess" in the Philippines). Guess money can replace good looks, eh?

The beginnings of Divisoria Market

8. The day I went to the market, I got in a cab (the first I took while here but, having heard what a rough part of town it was in and that it was difficult to find, I thought it a good idea), knowing that it should cost about 100 pesos (a little more than $2 USD) for the trip. I asked the guy to turn on his meter and he assured me he would (with foreigners they'll often claim it doesn't work or try to charge you a flat fee that is exorbitantly higher than what they would charge a local). Fortunately, by this point I was acclimated enough to the city to know where I was and which way I should be heading as, when we left I noticed he was going south when we should have been going north. I pointed this out to him, assuming he was just trying to take the "long way around" to get more money out of me and wanting him to know that I knew what he was up to when he informed me he was taking me to a different market. Me: "I don't want to go to another market, I want to go to Divisoria.". Him: "But you'll like it better". Me: "But I don't want to go there." Him: "But it's better". Me: "But I don't want to go, I want you to turn around and go to Divisoria.". Him: "But I'll only charge you 300 pesos to get there!". When I insisted that I was going to Divisoria and would pay him no more than what the meter read, he kicked me out of the cab! So, yeah, that was a first.

9. Speaking of cabs, when leaving the market, it was nearly impossible to find one that was free (considering it was a very poor section of town, not many cabs go there, I suppose). Some little boys asked me if I needed a cab, that they would get me one. I initially said no as I was sure I could get my own. But the longer I stood there (and the sweatier I got) and none would stop when they asked again I said yes and told them where I was going. I've gotta say, those littler buggers earned their tip! They ran and hailed and yelled and fought with cabbies and other people who were trying to jump in ahead of them and physically attached themselves to cars and jumped into the front seat and refused to get out and did a LOT of work to finally get one to pull over to pick me up. Not only did I tip them but I noticed the cab driver gives them a cut as well. Interesting system.

10. I had read that Filipinos are very non-confrontational and will avoid using the word 'no' at all costs (it's not uncommon for them to shake their head 'no' but still say 'yes', just say they don't actually have to say the word). So I arrived expecting a meek culture and yet in other ways they're super bold. They'll stare without shame. They'll come up and take pictures of you without asking (although, really, I take pictures of them so I guess fair is fair). And with no lead-in, no 'hello' or anything else, they'll open conversations with what we would consider to be bold questions like "Why are you alone?", "Where is your husband?" and "Where are you going? Can I go with you?". But in the end, their smiles win you over. Pure, genuine smiles that exude warmth. You can't beat that.

And with that, bed. I have yet another obscenely early wake-up call tomorrow (4 am!) to catch my next flight. Why, WHY, do discount airlines have such ungodly early flights?? Sigh. And zzzzzzz.

Why, yes, that IS a woman getting a pedicure on the
street in the middle of the market.

I don't think there is a bigger bubble tea fan
out there than me but rock salt and cheese
flavor bubble tea? Really?

Naked little boys beating the heat in the fountain. Ah, the
simple joys of life.

What A Difference A Day Makes

One of the gates to the walled city

Today I returned to my traveling roots: walking. And, in this case, walking and sweating. And lots of both. I've always felt that the best way to learn about a place is to hoof it - to see it, hear it, smell it, experience it from street level. And that I did.

It's been quite a shock to go right from modern, clean, organized Seoul to chaotic, dirty, run-down Manila. Not to mention going from cold weather to tropical heat and humidity in the blink of an eye. As Manila came up pretty last minute (as almost everything does for me), I didn't really have any set expectations of it. But I somehow didn't expect it to be what it is. It was a day full of surprises.

The first thing I noticed was how much people smile here. Having read up on Manila, I'd read much about the crime here and how cautious foreigners need to be so on my first outing I was, admittedly (and prudently), proceeding with caution. So many times I find when in a third world country that I struggle to find a balance between wanting to get involved with the locals, to trust them and talk to them, while at the same time wanting to remain leery and careful of not being taken advantage of. So when I started walking down the street and person after person after person was calling out to me ("Hello, Mama!"), I assumed they were just trying to sell me something. But then I noticed that all of the calls were accompanied by the most genuine smiles and enthusiastic waves. No way to resist that. The rest of the day the better part of my time was spent responding to them all with an equally genuine smile and a wave. The most amusing call of the day was "Hello, White Lady!".

The famous Manila Cathedral... closed, grrr.

It's been a while since I've been somewhere that I stand out SO much (yep, I'm super white... and blonde, to boot) and it took an hour or two until I got back in that groove and got used to being blatantly stared at all the time, remembering that there's nothing I can do without being watched. But I quickly got the feeling that it was like back in India, where for the most part it was completely harmless and just genuine curiosity. And while I could recognize that it was harmless, I was also quickly reminded of the downsides to standing out as an oh-so-obvious foreigner: nearly every cab driver and/or carriage driver stopped and tried to get me to take a ride. And while they're pleasant about it, they can be relentless, following slowly alongside me as I walked for a block or two. Yeah, that gets a tad awkward.

Just about the time I really started to let my guard down and decided the people were open and friendly and helpful and curious about the stranger among them, a guy started following me and asking me if I would give him my necklace. It was the only part of the day I felt at all uncomfortable. A reminder to maintain that balance of openness versus caution. Always such a struggle for me.

I made my way to Intramuros, the oldest and most historic part of the city, a "city within a city", a walled citadel built by the Spanish in 1571. Inside the ancient walls are plazas, monuments, public buildings, museums, ruins and, of course, famous churches. My primary destination and first stop was the Manila Cathedral... which was closed for renovations. Awesome. My second was Fort Santiago which is, you guessed it, an ancient fort. Since this part of the city was ruled by the Spanish for so many years, many of the Spanish names remain, which made me feel right at home. Truth be told, many times throughout the day, I actually had to remind myself that I was in Asia and not South America. Bizarro.

Fort Santiago's main gate

By this point in the day, I was sweating buckets and had to sit and chill over some fruit juice. While sitting there I was surrounded by tinny Christmas music and, once again, realized that when you grow up in a cold climate, it just does NOT add up to think about anything related to Christmas while sitting in a hot, steamy climate. Especially when actively dripping sweat. I also realized that there is no point at all in showering at the beginning of my day while here.

At the end of the day I decided I had just enough energy to walk to the bay and watch the sun go down. I found the one spot where no one else was around and plunked myself down for the show. Within 30 seconds a guy comes up to me and opens the conversation by asking "Why are you alone?". In the US, his question may have irked me; here it made me laugh as it was instantly obvious that he asked out of genuine curiosity as, really, why would a white girl be sitting there watching the sunset alone? We chatted for a few and then his son came over... and then some other people came over... and then some other people came over.... soon it was a regular old Filipino gathering.

Christopher and Diana. I swear they smiled the whole time
were talking!

It was the most unexpected part of my day and yet the most enjoyable, the purest and most true. The two who sat the longest were Christopher and Diana, a down-on-their-luck couple who live on the streets (in fact, while I was there, I saw some members of a local church come around and give out sandwiches to them and the other homeless people in the area) but who couldn't have been nicer and, in true Filipino form, couldn't have had kinder or more ready smiles.

They told me a bit about their life, asked me a bit about mine and sat and watched the sunset with me. They couldn't get over my "bravery" in traveling by myself as a woman but also offered up their services to be my guides/bodyguards on any future trips I took in the area (they didn't want to be paid for it, just for me to buy their meals). They also told me about some scams to watch out for and told me to not trust anyone, even them. They said there are good people and bad people in the Philippines and that they themselves were a mix of good and bad, but that any bad they do is just for survival. It was both a heartbreaking conversation and an uplifting one. They didn't ask for anything from me, they didn't try to get me to give them money, they just shared a moment of their lives with me out of genuine kindness. It was the best moment of my whole trip so far.

Inside Fort Santiago

Wait, which continent am I on again?



This picture made me sad as on one side of the fence is an
executive golf course while the whole other side is lined
with homeless people and their children.



It was, indeed, pulpy.





Sunset over Manila Bay

Lone Ranger

I am officially on my own. My friend had to jet off yesterday for work, which left me with some work of my own to do. Work that I've been putting off all week, with unparalleled avoidance. Those of you that know me know that I'm a ridiculous procrastinator, as in I could win world-level prizes for the skill. This trait, combined with an intense dislike for planning of any kind combine to make me the WORST at travel planning. Love travel, hate the planning. Makes for quite the conundrum.

It seems the reason the flights are so cheap is because you get
so little space. Had I not had an empty seat next to me and
been able to sit sideways, I'm pretty sure my knees would
have been permanently indented from being jammed so tightly
into the seat in front of me. For realz.

And as this whole trip had been so up in the air until the very last moment, I arrived with even less plans than I normally would have, which was quite a feat in and of itself. Upon landing in Seoul, I knew that I was spending about a week in Seoul and I had an approximation of a date that I will be heading back to the US. And that was it. The rest was wide open to, well, whim. Which is usually how I travel anyhow, so that part didn't concern me too much. I should have started to get concerned as the week progressed, but no. I should have been concerned once I realize that J was leaving Saturday and I had to be out of the hotel by Sunday and had no plans after that, but no. Pleeenty of time to figure such things out.

But finally, after J took off Saturday, I could put it off no longer. I headed up to the lounge I'd come to think of as a second home and hunkered down to get serious. I decided that my future destinations would be decided by two factors: 1) places that I haven't already been and 2) places where I could fly to the cheapest. Asia has started up some 'discount' airlines so it's feasible to fly from place to place rather inexpensively. Kind of like EasyJet or RyanAir in Europe but slightly nicer and slightly more expensive. But still a pretty great bargain overall.

Asian airline food. So different and, yet, still so bad.

Based on the above criteria, my first post-Seoul destination is...... Manila, Philippines! I booked the flight and the hotel, feeling rather proud of myself. Booking the hotel was a bit of a challenge as, having never been there, I didn't know how much time I would want/need, but I'm also in the mode of not wanting to move around too much, preferring to be 'rooted' in a place at least long enough to unpack a little.

After booking the Manila part, I decided I may as well ride the wave of motivation while it lasted and book the next flight. I found a super cheap flight ($89!) from Manila to Kuala Lumpur so figured I might as well grab it while it lasted. I have rarely gone to a place with a flight already in hand to the next place but, in this case, it turned out to be a tremendous stroke of good luck that I'd done so. When I got to the airport in Seoul, I was informed that I wouldn't be allowed to fly to the Philippines if I couldn't show a departure ticket. Amazing that I had booked one just 12 or so hours before and could whip it out as if, yes of course, I'm a totally informed traveler and knew that and came prepared. Whew!

So here I am in Manila. I had to set my alarm for an obscenely early hour (4:30 am) and stumbled my way through the morning, but here I am. I have a feeling the adventure has just begun.

Worst. Tourist. Ever.

My complete lack of posts this whole week wasn't without reason. That reason being that I had nothing to write about as I have been the lamest traveler ever this week. All week. From start to finish. Oh yes, I have.

To be fair, Seoul has never been super high on my list of "must see places" (okay, it wasn't on the list at all) and my sole purpose in coming here was to hang out with my friend who is working here. Which I did, so at least I accomplished something this week. But not much else.


Note the TV built right into the bathroom mirror.
Because, really, who doesn't need to watch
TV while brushing their teeth?

I have to admit that jetlag kicked my butt on this trip. Which it pains me to say as I must confess that I've always taken a bizarre pride in my ability to defy jetlag. I scoffed at people that suffered from it, those who needed two or three days to adjust to a place, who couldn't make it through the first week without naps. Those who were bleary-eyed and foggy-minded for days and unable to adjust instantaneously to the local time. I scoffed. And now I am one of them. Doh!


The cushy lounge where we spent so much time, we might as  
well have just paid to stay here instead.

I think the fatal combination this time was being up the entire night before I left (more than 24 hours by the time I took off) mixed with the knock-out punch of losing my cushy seat in first class and ending up in coach, where I have always found it impossible to sleep. Not sleeping one whole night and then only sleeping a sketchy 1 or 2 hours here and there over the next took a toll. No worries, I thought, I'll get one great night's sleep upon arrival and that will be that, just like I always do. But no, no. Instead I spent the first few nights never sleeping more than 3 hours at a shot, spending hours laying in bed, infuriatingly wide awake, cursing under my breath about not being able to sleep and finally waking up for good at obscene hours like 4:30 am (seriously, what does one DO at 4:30 am??). Oh yeah, I was lots of fun to be around those first couple of days.

After an oh-so-sketchy night of "sleep" upon arriving Friday, I had to be out of my hotel by 1:00 on Saturday, expecting to meet up with my friend at that time. But instead unexpected work delays happened and I ended up homeless while between hotels and having to expend a herculean effort to stay awake all afternoon while killing time in various coffee shops, waiting. And waiting. And waiting some more. By the time we met up in the evening, I was pretty useless. And that was as exciting as Day One got.

Day Two and Day Three weren't much more exciting. But we stayed this week at the Conrad Seoul which, if you have to be jetlagged and want to just hang out and enjoy the good life while adjusting, is just about as good as any place to do it. And as I won't see another hotel like it while traveling on my own, I decided to enjoy it for all it was worth: a fat corner room overlooking the river, a cushy bed with mountains of pillows, access to the Executive Lounge (read: free food and drinks), a fancy schmancy swimming pool, an indoor driving range, and service that is so over-the-top it's almost embarrassing. So, yeah, mix hanging out in a luxury hotel with a week spent chilling with an old friend I haven’t seen in a while and it made me one unmotivated tourist indeed.
.

Changdeokgung Palace. See? I DID leave the hotel!

We talked, we laughed, we ate, we swam, we napped, we lollygagged over breakfast (one day until, I exaggerate not, 3 pm), we caught up on the minutiae of each others' lives, we solved all of the world's problems and we talked about things we should do but never got around to. It was delightful.

But, alas, all good things must come to an end. Wednesday J had work that could no longer be avoided so I tore myself away from my cushy surroundings, bundled up, and headed out on my own to navigate the Seoul metro system. I went to see the Changdeokgung Palace, completed in the year 1412 and used as one of the primary palaces of the princes of the Joseon Dynasty, and then wandered around the Bukchon Hanok Village, one of the older parts of the city, filled with traditional Korean style homes and buildings.

Thursday was J's birthday so we yet again braved the outside world (two days in a row!) and went to a really nice, traditional Korean barbecue restaurant. Despite what I already knew to be a distaste for kimchee, I decided to give it another try as, really, when will I ever get more authentic kimchee than while in Korea? Turns out that, yep, I still dislike it. A lot. Ate all sorts of other stuff I couldn't identify, which was made easier by washing it all down with soju, Korea's equivalent of saki.

A sidenote: we walked to dinner and, once we were in the general vicinity, were having trouble finding the actual restaurant so I popped into a coffee shop to ask for help. It created a buzz of activity among all of the workers and eventually one sweet, giggling little girl guided me to the door, me assuming she was just going to point out the general direction. But she ended up walking about 5-6 blocks with us, taking us right up to the door of the restaurant. And as if that wasn’t enough, she kept apologizing the whole time for not being able to speak English. As if she needed to apologize to me for not speaking MY language while I was in HER country as opposed to the other way around. It made me feel even worse for my complete and utter lack of Korean language ability. That kind of kindness that I encounter regularly overseas never ceases to amaze me. If a foreigner in Lancaster asked me for directions, would I drop what I was doing and walk them the whole way to their destination? All I can say is that I will from now on.

Traditional style buildings in Bukchon Village

Yesterday on the subway (I know, out in public again!) I happened to catch the eye of an older Korean gentleman who had the kindest looking face. I smiled at him, presuming a man his age likely didn't speak English. Shows what I know. He struck up a conversation, starting off by chiding the both of us for not wearing coats (the heat in the subway car was blasting and we were stripped down to the bare minimum socially acceptable amount of clothing and were still sweating bullets while everyone else was all bundled up to the hilt - big, fat coats zipped the whole way up with gloves, scarves and hats - as if it wasn't 5,000 degrees in the subway car). And then he tapped the shoulder of the stranger standing next to him and shamelessly started pointing out to him my toe rings (yes, I am still wearing sandals in wintery Seoul), talking and laughing. They seemed to be having a rather amusing conversation at the expense of my feet but then switched back to English just long enough to tell me that "Koreans don't wear rings on feet. We think weird. Very weird". Fortunately, I'm not the sensitive type. 

So this is my last day in Seoul… for now. Tomorrow I head off to begin what will be a few weeks of journeying through other foreign lands before coming back here for another few days on my way back to the States. Warm weather, here I come!