Charmingly Chungnam: The Adventure Begins (A.K.A. Staying at a Love Hotel)

Alone in a foreign country. So the Korean consulate in London is taking awhile to approve Wes' visa, and he won't be arriving for several days after I've arrived. So for now I am staying in a hotel in Cheonan that my dad helped me book.

Nervous times. I couldn't sleep the night before flying, and it's not just because packing always takes longer than you expect. My flight was originally booked for the 14th of September, and until my flight was booked and my visa had arrived, I was sure I wasn't going. And then all of a sudden, I was!

And then Wes' school went bankrupt, and although he got a new job quickly, we had to postpone our arrival. The 14th came and went and I was still in my folks' house. I was in some kind of parallel dimension where I wasn't going to Korea, where I was just an unemployed bum lounging about in my parents' house playing video games (sans the video games). I slept all day and browsed the web and did some work on my drawing but not on my Korean (after all, I wasn't going anymore). This is something I have spent almost two years planning for, yet I felt the fact that I was able to go was due more to chance than anything else. And when I wasn't able to go, that was also due to chance, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I don't remember when I last felt so frustrated and so helpless as I have while preparing to go.

Then, of course, the day that my flight had been rebooked to arrived, and all of a sudden I was going again!

I spent half the flight feeling like I was kissed for the first time, and half of it feeling like I was about to walk into an examination hall where my degree would be decided. Sometimes I couldn't stop smiling to myself thinking "I'm finally going!", and sometimes I had to bang my chest to stop from hyperventilating. Sometimes both at the same time. This is simultaneously one of the most exciting things and one of the scariest things I have done in my life, so I think my wires got a little crossed.

Arriving. I arrived to Incheon International Airport, which is located on a small island. I took the express train into Seoul (₩8000) and the commuter train from there to Cheonan (₩6000, after a long discussion with the ticket booth person, half in Korean and half in English).

On the train station in Cheonan I was faced with the monumental task of dragging my luggage up the stairs and then down the stairs to get outside. A middleaged woman who spoke passable English saw my plight and helped me find the elevator, and once we were outside, she decided she should help me all the way to my hotel. Which was a stroke of luck, because Cheonan turned out to be this labyrinthine place with tall buildings, narrow streets and every building plastered with signs and posters. The streets don't have sidewalks and appear to be of variable width as the houses are not all similar to one another. I eventually found that street signs do exist, but they're on poles way high up in the air; presumably, so that cars can see them. With all the other, bigger signs with Korean writing on them, it took me awhile to find the actual street signs...

Bins along streets do not exist. I'm not sure what to do with my rubbish but for now I'm collecting it in my hotel room.

Love hotel. The hotel is called K. S. Hotel. It was called Sweet Hotel online... I'm not sure what the deal with the different names is, but they accepted my reservation voucher, so I assume they must be the same hotel. At any rate, when I arrive to the hotel, I'm given a dressing gown in shiny fabric and a small toiletry bag. "Sweet," I think, "It's like flying business class!"

When I get to my room I open the toiletry bag to see what's in it, and in addition to the expected tooth brush, I find some packets which I assume must be skin lotion, some which after googling turn out to be some sort of tooth paste or mouth wash or liquid breath mint, and one which (even without writing in English) is immediately identifiable as a packet of condoms.

A 'love hotel' or 'love motel' is a common practice in Korea, or so I understand, as people often live with their parents until they are married, and therefore need someplace discreet to, erm, be affectionate with each other. And the hotel my dad booked me into is apparently one of these love hotels. "Do they charge by the hour?" Wes joked, and added: "Those condoms better still be there when I arrive!"