Off to market

Lexxie knocks on my door at noon, as arranged. Andrew trolls up a little later. He isn't looking great.

First things first. We need more drinks. How did the kids through that much beer? Who stole all my whisky?

After provisioning up, we hang around for a while and eat a little. The plan is to visit the market, which is just over the road, then later head to the beach.

The market is very like the one we visited in Seoul a few years back. Though there's rather more emphasis on fish. (A lot more emphasis. Almost to the point of obsession. But not quite. Like a relation crazy enough to be best avoided, but not quite crazy enough for sectioning.) Not surprising, as it's right next to the fishing port.

It's not too busy, I guess because it's a bit late - after 3 PM. So big, I’m sure we’ll never get around all of it. But it’s fun to randomly stroll a little.

Loads of dried fish. Lots of live fish and crabs, too. It is slightly disturbing, all the live things. I’m pretty used to my food being pre-killed. Disappointed that there isn’t much in a state ready to eat. Unlike the Seoul market, where there was stuff cooking away all over the place. Despite the brain-melting heat.

Though mostly fish, there is other stuff. Fruit and veg. Flowers. Clothes. Hardware. One stall sells nothing but chillies. I’m surprised there’s much demand for them here. It’s not like the food is spicy or anything.

We end up on the dock, where all the fishing boats are parked. As Andrew is feeling pretty rough, we return to the hotel. After stocking up again in a convenience store. I can’t understand why we need to visit them so often. Someone must be breaking into our rooms while we’re asleep.

We hang around in my room again. Andrew sleeps in my bed. He really doesn't look well. While me and Lexxie watch Transformers 2 on the TV. Luckily, it's subtitled. Or maybe not, given the quality of the dialogue. At least, the increasingly ridiculous action sequences that stop them talking too much.

I send Dolores some of the photos from the market. For some reason she wants snaps of the kids.

“Do you want some photos of fish?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“So, you do want photos of fish?”

“No, I don’t”

“Here you go, then.” I’m a bit like the toaster in Red Dwarf.

I’m sure she loves the fish photos. She’s just too proud to admit it.

“Stop sending me photos of fish.”

She definitely loves them. I can read between the lines. That’s why I’m such a great husband. And father.

Andrew is feeling too crap to go to the beach. We’re postponing that until tomorrow.

Instead, around six me and Lexxie head off in search of fried chicken. He has a couple of leads. But warns me:

“Google maps doesn’t work very well in Korea.”

As an example, he shows me where our hotel is marked. It’s not on a street.

The place he has in mind isn’t open. And never will be again, as the unit is empty. Oh well, must look further.

We’re in what I would call a high-streety type of area. Lots of clothes shops. Some with pretty weird names. Like Kidnap. “With sincere gratitude” is their slogan. What the hell message is that trying to convey? As they’re selling menswear, are those clothes for kidnappers?

Soup is another one. Any guess what that sells? Women’s clothes. Has someone just been picking random words from an English dictionary? Next door is Codes Combine. Posh women’s clothes, what else?

Any guesses what Sexy Cookie might be purveying? You’ll never guess. Lingerie. That’s confusing. A shop name that sort of makes sense.

It takes us a while to find somewhere to eat. Mostly because we're a little early. And in the wrong area. The weird clothes shops are a clue.

Eventually, we find somewhere open. It’s almost all the way back to our hotel. We're their first customers. It sort of looks vaguely pub-like. Very vaguely. If you squint and ignore all the signs in Korean. And the fact that there’s no bar.

“Who’s that on the TV?” I ask.

“The South Korean president.”

“He looks a bit dodgy.”

“He is.”

We order a pile of roast chicken and chips between us. Plus a beer for Lexxie and a soju for me. I do try my best to fit in with local traditions.

“Isn’t this the laughing woman brand soju, Lexxie?”

“You mean the one advertised by that model?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“No, Dad. But, yes, it the one you’ve seen advertised.”

“It must be crap, then. If they have to advertise it.”

“You’re weird, Dad.”

“I’m not wrong though, am I?”

“Shut up, Dad.”

They serve these things that look like hula hoops as a sort of amuse bouche. Along with a clear soup and some pickles. Interesting.

The food isn't bad. With a dead spicy hot sauce. Exactly what you’d expect.

You may have noticed that I’m not drinking much beer. There’s a good reason for that. Industrial Pils is all that’s on offer.  I could drink it. But why should I? I’m not going to really enjoy it. Far better to drink soju. A proper local drink. And sort of beer, as it’s made from rice. That it contains far more alcohol than Pils in just a happy coincidence.

Back in my room, we drink and watch TV. Andrew has livened up a bit. Top Gun is on. I’m sure that’s not the reason he’s chirpier..

What a terrible film. The Tom Cruise character is such an arsehole. Why doesn’t everyone just tell him to fuck off? By the climactic battle, I’m rooting for the Soviets to shoot the twat down. Or maybe one of his own side.

We watch Peep Show on Netflix. It cheers Andrew up even more. Or maybe it’s the beer, to which he has returned. What a shock.

It's after three when we turn in. Lexxie is showing no signs of returning to his dorm.