HAPPY PLACE

Hey look. I'm happy and on Mudeungsan.

I'll miss this mountain, its proximity to my city and its convenience. In the warmer months it seems I spend at least two weekends a month wandering its paths.

Last weekend I took a usual hike up to the restaurant to find that typhoon Bolaven had stripped down it's power lines. That place has undoubtedly hosted some of my favorite afternoons during the last year and it's seems unlikely that the issue will be reconciled before my departure. For that I am sad.

But, oh, Mudeung. You've been good to me. Your temples. Your rock formations. Your ability for night hikes. Your exercise parks. Your hula hoops. Your pagoda. Your hosting of kimbap lunches.

BUSAN - HAEUNDAE BEACH

A childhood friend spent a good ten days with me in the middle of August and we took a Saturday trip to Busan, a port city on Korea's southeast coast. It is the third largest city in the country and home to one of Korea's most famous beaches - Haeundae.

Somewhere exists a handbook that outlines the year based on when it is proper to partake in certain outdoor activities in Korea. August is definitely beach season. On a regular weekend, I've found Korean beaches fairly barren, a presumed consequence of the stereotypical Asian distaste for suntans. As Allie and I approached sand, I was shocked. The beach was prepared for the inflow of eager people looking to enjoy this space, a completely different way than I am used to in America.

If you ever wondered what Miami might look like if it decided to switch places with Korea, it would appear something like this:

The ENTIRETY of the sand area would be lined with umbrellas. For about $4, said umbrellas can be rented and sat under. Replace bronzing babes with babes carrying parasols. And everyone has these TUBES. I've heard a rumor that Korean's as a whole don't swim well, so perhaps this enhances their enjoyment at the beach. Ninety percent of people over age 10 are swimming in their clothes. It can be bet upon that everywhere you look, someone, somewhere is applying sunblock SPF 8 million in the shade, with a hat on.

TRUTH: Korean's have excellent skin.

Allie and I got some curious stares for purposely laying our towels outside of our sun-secure umbrella, but I also saw far more Korean's in bikini's this year than last. Whether this new-found freedom is a sign of leniency or a generation's act of rebellion, for this I applaud. Be free in your body.

YANGSAN DONG

I suppose it's been a year and I haven't even mentioned where I sleep at night.

I live in the northern part of the city. It's way up there; a good 50 minutes from downtown by bus. A furnished apartment is provided as part of my job, and I got lucky. My apartment is small and nice. There's an elevator in my building. It's clean, quiet and I am more than convinced I got set up with the most comfortable bed in Korea.

I'd love to tell you I know this neighborhood like the back of my hand, a sentiment one should feel comfortable relaying after having lived in a place for a year. But I don't. Because I live so far, I'm constantly hopping on buses. I often leave on Friday nights and don't return until Sunday evenings. During the week, I walk to work and then home again.

What I know of this hood is it's people. The clerks at the mart know me. They follow me around, waiting to bag and weigh my vegetables. They ring up my coffee before I even order. They laugh at me while I stumble through in Korean. They come out of their restaurants to wave. They buy me a box of TWELVE donuts. They give me five cucumbers when I only paid for four.


YANG SAN DONG RESERVOIR, AND THE REALITY WHICH IS MY TEENSY, TINY APARTMENT.

These four story "villas" line my street. I live in one.

NOM NOM NOM [BOROCAY ISLAND STYLE]

This is the beginning of a seven hour lunch. This is the kind of lunch that puts you in bed at 8:30 pm on holiday. Goulash. Sauerkraut. Potatoes. Feta. And really, I don't even know what else.

This is also the kind of lunch that gets you invited back by the owner to enjoy prawns so shockingly delicious you'll immediately catapult every other memory of food straight to the curb.

The food on the island was so wonderful, so succulent, and sometimes so absolutely humiliatingly lovely in comparison to any food I've eaten in my life. (And dude, I've had some really good food.)

This whole vacation I ate. I learned to forgo forks. That's how passionately I wanted this food in my mouth. Thai. Greek. Austrian. American. Philippino. And these prawns. The prawns deserve their own entry, as they are an entire seperate entity of this vacation as far as categorization goes in my brain.

I wish I had food vocabulary. I'd make such a shit food journalist because they only words I have for excellent food are more like indecent animal noises.

Here they are. My portion of 1.2 kilos of juicy, delectable prawns.

BOROCAY ISLAND, PHILIPPINES

OR: The vacation of no complaints.

I started my travels from Gwangju on a 1:30 am bus to Incheon to catch my 8 am flight to Manila. From there I took a short flight to Caticlan, a tiny airport near the port. Here began my three hour stunt as a hotpotato.

A man with my name on a sign greeted me, shoved my person and my bag into a van and as quickly as possible drove me to the water. He grabbed my hand out of the car, bought me a boat ticket, dragged me ahead of the 50-person line, and got me on a boat.

It was a windy day, but the sky was clear. The picture's weren't lying.

When I arrived on the island, another man found me and carried my bag up the hill which was ornamented with a sorry excuse for stone steps. He was running, so I followed suit. He told me to "sit here" so I sat there and waited for him to bring a car around. He motioned me inside.

"Your friends are here."

"That's good. Because I certainly trusted those last three men."

Opening the door at the hotel, it was a matter of 3.6 seconds before a rolled, wet towel and a glass of pineapple juice were in my hands.

Holiday. I have arrived.

Borocay Island is pretty well off. At just over 10 square kilometers, it's a huge vacation destination for Koreans.

The beach is pristine - clear, blue water collides white sand. The people are kind. The peddlers are present, but far from obnoxious. It's cheap and has the ability to gratify folks in search of a number of holidays. The area is popular for windsurfing, but just as many people are minimizing their steps - ten strides to the beach, ten strides back into the hotel. Relaxation or Adventure. You always have that option.

I went for the combination package. I laid around like a professional. I went parasailing and snorkeling. I rode boats in the early morn. I took midday swims. I drank lattes in the afternoon. I got a trifecta of mind-blowing Philippino massages, one of which took place in a hut on the beach during a torrential downpour. I had a lot of cocktails. I danced with a dreaded girl from Lithuania in a bar that employs only midgets. I ate mangoes and avocados at fresh, local prices.

And this one time I become an astronaut underwater. (video by Alex McAlery)

JUNE

Sometimes I lose track of the days. I've lost track of the days.

My mind is going haywire - feeling a sometimes tumultuous push and shove as I consider where these last 11 months have gone, think of the next 3, and somehow force myself to stay ever present because that's all I can do to stay sane.

So, I'm here. Talking about time again, because that's what happens when you are living a life based on visa deadlines.

Then again, nothing is booked. Nothing is official. I got a few offers for the future that my intuition couldn't decline and I'm wondering how long I'll be able to unflappably float through the Universe like this. I'm so calm. Maybe I should be looking at immunizations and perhaps what kind of things one takes on a long trek through the woods.

This is vague, but the details will follow.

This last month, where has it gone? The truth might gag you, but the weekends are clearly mappable.

MUDFEST

Mudfest is a disaster, a complete and total disaster. In fact, it's the kind of event that should only be held once a year because it's just completely unruly, especially by Korean standards of modesty. The event is highly popular among the young foreign community. The city of Boryeong hosts this event, and during the two weeks it's open, something like two million people attend to get muddy and act like fools.

Korea is good at community and they are good at festivals.  The city accepts the madness and sets up booths filled with food, water and booze throughout the town. Cardboard is laid down in every 7/11 to accommodate and serve dirty humans.

We arrived at around 11 in the morning. We put on our swimsuits. We left everything of any value at the hotel (including shoes) and headed to find some mud. It's not hard to find. And thus began eight of hours the following: Get muddy. Frolic on the beach. Get in the ocean. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I was in bed by eight. Getting muddy with thousands of people is exhausting.

JANGHEUNG AQUA FESTIVAL

The first thing I noticed when I got off the bus on Friday in Jangheung were stars, which I've only seen a couple of times in Korea. Therefore, my happiness was ridiculously solidified upon arrival. I like water and I like mountains. And there was also a makgeoli tasting area, so I was in heaven at this festival.  The air felt clean and the weather was hot but appropriate for the weekend's events. There was a lot of sweating coupled with a lot of swimming, but what else are you supposed to do at a water festival?

Somewhere in there I also shot a gun. It was at paintball, but the first thing I've ever shot in my life. It was definitely an event I attended because of friends, but guys, paintball is fun. Really fun. Give me all the bruises and all the mosquito bites and I'll crouch real low and act like I have any idea what I'm doing with a weapon in my hands.

SO BEGINS TWELVE WEEKS LEFT IN THE LAND OF THE MORNING CALM.

YEOSU EXPO

The World's Far is in Korea this year, and despite all the hubbub I overheard about the long lines and mass amounts of people, I went with a group of friends to the east coast city of Yeosu to check it out.

After a downpour at our arrival, we purchased some dollar ponchos and made the best of it. Street performance was seen. German beer was drank. Spanish tapas was eaten. The International pavilion proved to be the highlight of the adventure as the lines for the talked about aquarium and robot exhibit exeeded three hours in wait time.

It was oh, so busy but definitely proved worthwhile. It was a day of adventure, much like many during my time here, that involved a quick bus ride out of my city into another that yielded a feeling of being transported lifetimes away. The architecture was unique compared to the usual rectangular, cookie-cutter buildings I stare at in the city. And hey, the World's Fair really isn't something to miss.