2 - 3 February, 2011
A pleasant enough flight, long of course, as expected, was followed by an overnight stay in Songolo Bridge Hotel, Incheon, on the outskirts of Seoul.
I had cherished notions of doing some sort of open top bus tour of the area, just so I could say I'd 'done' Seoul, but as the view from my bedroom window reminded me of a snow bound trip to the former Soviet Union in the 1980's, I quickly abandoned this idea in preference to an early night in one of the best beds in which it has been my priviledge to sleep. It was like spending the night cosseted by clouds, tucked in by angels - wonderful!
Next morning, after battling to operate the automated, centrally heated, male / female oriented, bi lingual, all singing all dancing, bum wash-and-blow drying toilet, I made my way down to breakfast, eaten whilst watching news of the latest cyclone to assault Queensland. I knew there would be repercussions further down the coast, and thought of my little family battened down in our hillside home.
Some time whiled away in the extremely high-end airport at Seoul - no such thing as fridge magnets on sale here! - quickly gave way to flight calls and boarding, and I was on the final leg of my journey to Paris.
Watching the in-flight stats on my seat mounted television screen, I saw our tiny plane gradually move out of the map depicting the Southern hemisphere and begin inching its way across Russia. When the map of Australia had finally disappeared, I realised how far I was from home and the beating hearts I loved so much, how long it would be before I saw and held them all again, and thought about crying myself to sleep.
At this point, the stewardess came by with the drinks trolley. Crisis averted. A glass of red, a movie or two, an attempt at dozing and then - France! Paris! Montmartre! Vive!
Next morning, after battling to operate the automated, centrally heated, male / female oriented, bi lingual, all singing all dancing, bum wash-and-blow drying toilet, I made my way down to breakfast, eaten whilst watching news of the latest cyclone to assault Queensland. I knew there would be repercussions further down the coast, and thought of my little family battened down in our hillside home.
Some time whiled away in the extremely high-end airport at Seoul - no such thing as fridge magnets on sale here! - quickly gave way to flight calls and boarding, and I was on the final leg of my journey to Paris.
Watching the in-flight stats on my seat mounted television screen, I saw our tiny plane gradually move out of the map depicting the Southern hemisphere and begin inching its way across Russia. When the map of Australia had finally disappeared, I realised how far I was from home and the beating hearts I loved so much, how long it would be before I saw and held them all again, and thought about crying myself to sleep.
At this point, the stewardess came by with the drinks trolley. Crisis averted. A glass of red, a movie or two, an attempt at dozing and then - France! Paris! Montmartre! Vive!
Love it! Folie Madame is better than Petite Anglaise. I just hope I know how to get into the next blog, but I'm sure I'll figure it out. Tsotsi
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