by Layla
There is something very odd about flying into a new city in which we will be living in just under a month. We landed at Dulles airport, determined to love it. The airport procedures didn’t persuade us at first – a long transit to the main airport building, and hideously long queues with one passport official for the lot of us. It took more than two hours to get from the plane to the Churchill Hotel, our home for the next six days. And then when we determinedly headed out for a drink, we were foiled first by everything being apparently closed, and then when we found Bistro de Coin, despite its lovely atmosphere they wouldn’t serve us wine as we didn’t have our passports. But fortunately they served us chips, and we staggered up the hill to our hotel feeling partially sated, and entirely exhausted.
Up far too early on Saturday morning thanks to jet lag, we got dressed and headed out in the cold and torrential rain. Luckily it was all uphill from there. We had breakfast in Afterwards, the café of Kramer Books, a really brilliant independent bookshop at Dupont Circle. Pancakes, omlette, juice, and loveliness, and a copy of the Washington Post to wash it all down. And then it was time for our first metro experience. Which was not entirely successful – the trains seem to run only once every 20 minutes or so… particularly disappointing when we realised we’d got on the train in the wrong direction! Luckily we’d bought a copy of the monthly ‘Washingtonian’ which I’d rather hoped might be a Time Out substitute. Not really, but it is a great magazine, with some listings and a range of interesting articles. Through reading it, with features not on celebrities and suchlike nonsense, but on such subjects as the white house legal team, top business people, etc, it became clear: Washington DC is a city for clever people.
By the time we got to our target station, we were sure we were late. But no, we slipped into seats in the balcony of the Sidney Harman hall just in time for what we had been looking forward to for weeks – a TEDx conference, on the vague theme of ‘place’. After a brilliant experience with TEDx in London, we had been excited about going to another, and it didn’t disappoint. For an entire day, we listened to 12 minute talks by brilliant, fascinating people on a wide range of diverse topics. We particularly enjoyed the man who invented the security words one has to type when buying something online to prove that you’re a person rather than a computer. Did you know that only one of the words is for that purpose – the other word is taken from a book that is being converted to a digital book, which is done by scanning? But the computer can’t recognise a third of the words, so this method is used to translate billions of words to enable ebooks to be published. Very clever. Also liked a NASA astrophysicist on telescopes. It was a particularly fortunate pastime for yesterday, as it was first freezing and rainy, then actually snowy! We braved the weather for delicious guacamole for lunch at a nearby restaurant, but otherwise remained warm and intellectually stimulated. A great start to our Washington adventure.
After the conference (we sneaked out a little early due to jet lag drowsiness and a dull final speaker), the rain/snow had largely abated, so we decided to stretch our legs and walk to see the White House. A longer walk than we’d anticipated, we stared up at the big white building with a little confusion. We hadn’t expected it to be right on the street… and it was a bit in need of a coat of paint! Only then did we look up and see a sign proclaiming that it wasn’t the White House at all, but the Treasury! Sheepishly we took directions from some security guards, and suddenly there it was, looming white and elegant across a pristine lawn, and just as it looks on TV (and in the West Wing!). It felt shamefully touristy, but we stood and stared in delight.
Afterwards, we walked all the way up Connecticut Avenue to Dupont Circle, and Kramer Books called for a glass of wine. I had the Horton Viogner, which just won an award for best locally made wine (in Virginia). I’ve had better, to be honest, but under the circumstances, was duly appreciative… And we may have had a piece of key lime pie…
Having walked home past Halloween costumed partiers, we were amused to find these same partiers on the news as we returned to our room for a pre-prandial rest, along with pictures of far more snow in different parts of Virginia. Seems we’d got off lightly. We were supposed to go to a fancy (and expensive) restaurant for dinner, but as we walked there, we both noted we felt rather tired (it was 9:30pm!) and not especially ravenous. And we’d both secretly noted the presence of a delicious-sounding butternut squash ravioli on the Kramer Books menu… and so Roz voiced what we were both thinking, and we sprinted through pretty residential streets (one of which might soon be our street!) to the lovely restaurant where we indulged. Afterwards, we pottered around the bookshop, which had brilliant selections of books, and on a Saturday night at 10:30pm was absolutely mobbed with people browsing books, eating in the restaurant, and drinking at the bar. As we walked past the bar, we saw a man having a glass of wine and reading the Financial Times. Roz and I looked at each other. We had come home.
We walked up the road, past more Halloween costumed partiers, and were tempted into a very lovely little wine bar called Veritas. It seemed there were plenty of places to go out, but they were a little subtle, and local. A couple of proseccos and a sneaky bit of delicious cheese later, we retired to bed, to dream of living in this city.
Sunday 30 October 2011
Thursday 6 October 2011
In which Roz drags an ailing Layla up a mountain and miles along a cycle path
By Roz
One of the pleasing things about travelling with someone else is that it isn’t viable to go for the “hide-in-the-room” option long term, since one or other of you will eventually say “well, I guess we better go out now” and the other will feel impelled to agree. And thus it was that Layla and I headed out into the scary world of Daedunsan. Our first stop was for lunch (for me, anyway) which was a tasty vegetable bimimbap. Layla, of course, sat there watching me, whilst also writhing in pain (this proved to be a feature of the subsequent few days) – fortunately I am a heartless beast and took this as a cue to order a beer or two.
After lunch, we headed towards the park entrance and got a cable car half way up the mountain. The views were very pleasing and I must confess to a little inner joy that I had managed to avoid the steep uphill walk. On getting out of the cable car, we contemplated the view from the observatory. Given that it was 2 o’clock (and returning to the hotel a minute sooner than we needed to held no attractions for me at all), it struck me as a good plan to head up to the top of the mountain. This did not strike Layla as a good plan, in her weakened and pain-ridden state. So, we agreed that I’d head up (it was around a kilometer) and she’d read her book / doze and wait for me. And so, I headed off.
I must confess that I’d assumed that the hike would be of the usual Korean variety – in other words, very easy going, with boards all the way. In fact, it proved to be rather more hard-core than that and clambering over the rocks I felt slightly explorer-ish. Until, that is, I was passed by a man going downhill carrying a baby (a fact all the more bitter given that I was at that moment using both hands and feet to make the ascent…). The inappropriateness of feeling intrepid was confirmed when I then stumbled across a café (with a speaker playing Sinatra’s My Way…). Ah well...
Having made the ascent, I then began to make my way down. The speed and agility of Koreans when hiking became even more apparent – to the extent that I received encouraging / sympathetic smiles from some and, more humiliatingly, was told by one man to “stop dreaming and get going”! But it was good fun.
On returning to Layla, I found that she’d gone to sleep in the shade, and had awoken freezing cold and feeling rather worse. Sadly, it did not occur to me that this development should mean that we should get the cable car down again – but instead I pressed on with our original plan of walking back. This proved to be a rather painful and unfortunate experience for us both, with Layla needing to stop every 100 meters or so. But she assured me that in the moments where she wasn’t feeling dreadful, she was glad she was there.
Back at the bottom of the mountain, we decided to go and sit in the park and read and drink / snack. This we did until it became cold, at which point we headed back to the uninviting hotel. The evening is best skated over. Suffice to say that I developed something of Layla’s ailments, which took the form of a fever and overwhelming headache, so the evening was spent in the room, feeling rather sorry for ourselves.
The next morning, we got an early bus to Daejeon and then a bullet train to Seoul. On getting into Seoul, we headed straight to our glamorous and final hotel – the Fraser Suites. We dumped our bags (having got there too early to check in) and then went to explore our new area, Insadong. Slightly startled by the crowds (and still feeling a trifle fragile) we soon stopped off for a cup of tea (which in my case turned into a lemon drink which I found strangely terrifying). Fortified, we did a little more wandering and stopped off in an art gallery, where we briefly contemplated buying some art. We resisted, and then I urged that we found somewhere for lunch. Directed to an Italian place by a local tourist guide who was randomly standing on the street, we found ourselves having delicious pumpkin soup (served in hollowed out warm pumpkins), warm bread and wine. Or at least I did. Layla took two spoonfuls of her soup, turned green, and I became the beneficiary.
After which, we went back to the hotel to check-in properly. At this point, things definitely began to look up. Our room turned out to be a spacious self-contained flat with a very comfy sofa. With Layla having been unmanned by the pumpkin soup, I suggested that we settle down on the sofa, watch a film (from the extensive DVD library which the hotel had) and recover. At thus it was that we watched Good Will Hunting (a film we’d not seen before): Layla did her obligatory weeping at the appropriate moments, and it was all very pleasing. After the film, I left Layla to read and went to the gym, where I ran 10K whilst simultaneously people-watching the busy street below me (and listening to an Anthony Trollope audiobook – seemingly my new addiction). After this, we both headed to the jacuzzi / sauna to wallow in the warm water.
Evening had of course arrived, and we took the decision to resist the lure of the locality in favour of a night in our flat, in the hopes that Layla would finally recover (dragging Layla down a mountain hadn’t proved to be as medicinal as I’d hoped, so this approach seemed a reasonable alternative). We settled down with the epic Gone With the Wind (which in my view Layla had to watch before our move to DC) and got room service, including some very nice wine – and worked our way through the first two thirds of the film, before heading to bed.
The next morning, Layla announced that she was cured. The delicious hotel breakfast unfortunately demonstrated that this was not the case. But she was improved anyway. And so we headed off to hire bikes to go on a cycle route suggested by Lonely Planet (also medicinal, I think). And it proved to be a truly lovely cycle route. There’s a huge river in Seoul, called the Han, and alongside it there’s a fantastic cycle path (and a separate path for walkers) that goes on for many kilometers. Alongside sparkling water, and in glorious sunshine, we had an exceptionally jolly cycle ride. Often we cycled with huge motorways above us, and we contemplated the glorious fashion in which Korea has created a space that mixes the very urban with carving out a space for nature in the very heart of the city. It felt like the future. The paths were busy (it happened to be a bank holiday) and it was lovely to cycle alongside so many locals. The route was also peppered with outdoor exercise machines, and we felt obliged to have a little play (though Layla found this had a less medicinal result than one might have thought!).
Returning back to the hotel at the end of the day, we contemplated our options for our very last night of our lovely holiday. And so we found ourselves back in the jaccuzzi, and then off to dinner in the Italian place we’d lunched in the day before. Layla felt that she might be up to more than one mouthful of soup, and I was enthusiastic about eating something that wasn’t rice and vegetables (of which I have had quite a lot on this holiday). Dinner was really very good indeed – to the extent that Layla ate an entire bowl of soup, whilst I managed a main course as well – and then we headed back to the hotel for the final third of Gone With the Wind.
There’s little to say about our last morning in Seoul – there was an alarm clock, a 10K run down in the gym for me and breakfast - and then it was time for the airport bus. But what a lovely holiday it’s been. And that’s just as well, because in 7 weeks and 3 days we’ll be emigrating to Washington DC, where we’ll be living for the next 4 years. So this oasis of a holiday (albeit with a little illness thrown in) has been just what the doctor ordered…
One of the pleasing things about travelling with someone else is that it isn’t viable to go for the “hide-in-the-room” option long term, since one or other of you will eventually say “well, I guess we better go out now” and the other will feel impelled to agree. And thus it was that Layla and I headed out into the scary world of Daedunsan. Our first stop was for lunch (for me, anyway) which was a tasty vegetable bimimbap. Layla, of course, sat there watching me, whilst also writhing in pain (this proved to be a feature of the subsequent few days) – fortunately I am a heartless beast and took this as a cue to order a beer or two.
After lunch, we headed towards the park entrance and got a cable car half way up the mountain. The views were very pleasing and I must confess to a little inner joy that I had managed to avoid the steep uphill walk. On getting out of the cable car, we contemplated the view from the observatory. Given that it was 2 o’clock (and returning to the hotel a minute sooner than we needed to held no attractions for me at all), it struck me as a good plan to head up to the top of the mountain. This did not strike Layla as a good plan, in her weakened and pain-ridden state. So, we agreed that I’d head up (it was around a kilometer) and she’d read her book / doze and wait for me. And so, I headed off.
I must confess that I’d assumed that the hike would be of the usual Korean variety – in other words, very easy going, with boards all the way. In fact, it proved to be rather more hard-core than that and clambering over the rocks I felt slightly explorer-ish. Until, that is, I was passed by a man going downhill carrying a baby (a fact all the more bitter given that I was at that moment using both hands and feet to make the ascent…). The inappropriateness of feeling intrepid was confirmed when I then stumbled across a café (with a speaker playing Sinatra’s My Way…). Ah well...
Having made the ascent, I then began to make my way down. The speed and agility of Koreans when hiking became even more apparent – to the extent that I received encouraging / sympathetic smiles from some and, more humiliatingly, was told by one man to “stop dreaming and get going”! But it was good fun.
On returning to Layla, I found that she’d gone to sleep in the shade, and had awoken freezing cold and feeling rather worse. Sadly, it did not occur to me that this development should mean that we should get the cable car down again – but instead I pressed on with our original plan of walking back. This proved to be a rather painful and unfortunate experience for us both, with Layla needing to stop every 100 meters or so. But she assured me that in the moments where she wasn’t feeling dreadful, she was glad she was there.
Back at the bottom of the mountain, we decided to go and sit in the park and read and drink / snack. This we did until it became cold, at which point we headed back to the uninviting hotel. The evening is best skated over. Suffice to say that I developed something of Layla’s ailments, which took the form of a fever and overwhelming headache, so the evening was spent in the room, feeling rather sorry for ourselves.
The next morning, we got an early bus to Daejeon and then a bullet train to Seoul. On getting into Seoul, we headed straight to our glamorous and final hotel – the Fraser Suites. We dumped our bags (having got there too early to check in) and then went to explore our new area, Insadong. Slightly startled by the crowds (and still feeling a trifle fragile) we soon stopped off for a cup of tea (which in my case turned into a lemon drink which I found strangely terrifying). Fortified, we did a little more wandering and stopped off in an art gallery, where we briefly contemplated buying some art. We resisted, and then I urged that we found somewhere for lunch. Directed to an Italian place by a local tourist guide who was randomly standing on the street, we found ourselves having delicious pumpkin soup (served in hollowed out warm pumpkins), warm bread and wine. Or at least I did. Layla took two spoonfuls of her soup, turned green, and I became the beneficiary.
After which, we went back to the hotel to check-in properly. At this point, things definitely began to look up. Our room turned out to be a spacious self-contained flat with a very comfy sofa. With Layla having been unmanned by the pumpkin soup, I suggested that we settle down on the sofa, watch a film (from the extensive DVD library which the hotel had) and recover. At thus it was that we watched Good Will Hunting (a film we’d not seen before): Layla did her obligatory weeping at the appropriate moments, and it was all very pleasing. After the film, I left Layla to read and went to the gym, where I ran 10K whilst simultaneously people-watching the busy street below me (and listening to an Anthony Trollope audiobook – seemingly my new addiction). After this, we both headed to the jacuzzi / sauna to wallow in the warm water.
Evening had of course arrived, and we took the decision to resist the lure of the locality in favour of a night in our flat, in the hopes that Layla would finally recover (dragging Layla down a mountain hadn’t proved to be as medicinal as I’d hoped, so this approach seemed a reasonable alternative). We settled down with the epic Gone With the Wind (which in my view Layla had to watch before our move to DC) and got room service, including some very nice wine – and worked our way through the first two thirds of the film, before heading to bed.
The next morning, Layla announced that she was cured. The delicious hotel breakfast unfortunately demonstrated that this was not the case. But she was improved anyway. And so we headed off to hire bikes to go on a cycle route suggested by Lonely Planet (also medicinal, I think). And it proved to be a truly lovely cycle route. There’s a huge river in Seoul, called the Han, and alongside it there’s a fantastic cycle path (and a separate path for walkers) that goes on for many kilometers. Alongside sparkling water, and in glorious sunshine, we had an exceptionally jolly cycle ride. Often we cycled with huge motorways above us, and we contemplated the glorious fashion in which Korea has created a space that mixes the very urban with carving out a space for nature in the very heart of the city. It felt like the future. The paths were busy (it happened to be a bank holiday) and it was lovely to cycle alongside so many locals. The route was also peppered with outdoor exercise machines, and we felt obliged to have a little play (though Layla found this had a less medicinal result than one might have thought!).
Returning back to the hotel at the end of the day, we contemplated our options for our very last night of our lovely holiday. And so we found ourselves back in the jaccuzzi, and then off to dinner in the Italian place we’d lunched in the day before. Layla felt that she might be up to more than one mouthful of soup, and I was enthusiastic about eating something that wasn’t rice and vegetables (of which I have had quite a lot on this holiday). Dinner was really very good indeed – to the extent that Layla ate an entire bowl of soup, whilst I managed a main course as well – and then we headed back to the hotel for the final third of Gone With the Wind.
There’s little to say about our last morning in Seoul – there was an alarm clock, a 10K run down in the gym for me and breakfast - and then it was time for the airport bus. But what a lovely holiday it’s been. And that’s just as well, because in 7 weeks and 3 days we’ll be emigrating to Washington DC, where we’ll be living for the next 4 years. So this oasis of a holiday (albeit with a little illness thrown in) has been just what the doctor ordered…
Monday 3 October 2011
In which Layla and Roz see caves and mazes, feel seasick, and climb some hills
By Layla
Oh the horror of not having written a blog for so long! We left you in Jeju city, where we popped in to a Paris Baguette for breakfast, then we hopped on a bus in the other direction along the perimeter of the island, and got off at a random roadside with a track leading 2.5km down to what is probably the biggest lava cave in the world. A lava cave essentially looks like the lair of a giant, evil snake. It’s black, with swirls and swoops as you imagine the molten lava flowing. The cave was about 17km long, but a 1km section was open to the public. We made our way down into the darkness, and did the walk, over rough, irregular ground, til we got to an illuminated 7m high tower of lava that marked the end of the walk. Fascinating, though personally I preferred the half-lava, half-limestone caves in Hallim Park…
After a picnic lunch on the grass courtesy of Paris Baguette (I have never eaten so many bagels!) we went to the other entertainment of the day, a maze. I rather like mazes. Unfortunately this one was filled by hundreds of shrieking, shoving schoolchildren, who made the experience rather less fun… we were very bitter to see them all leaving at the same time as us! But we persisted and were successful in solving the maze.
We’d planned to go to a nearby beach after this, but the weather turned grey, so we headed back into town where we established ourselves with kiwi juices at a book café, then another café, where we made excellent progress with our books before retiring to – oh the shame – the same excellent Indian restaurant!
The next day we awoke early for what I had absolutely expected to be a treat – a three hour sail from Jeju to Mokpo, in mainland South Korea. Alas I hadn’t really thought it through. First, the weather was miserable. Secondly the boat tossed and turned. Rather than the pleasure trip I’d anticipated, Roz and I sat on the floor outside in the rain, green, cold, and nauseous, and praying for it to be over, which thankfully it eventually was. Weirdly the taxi at the port didn’t want to take us to the train station, so a 25 minute walk later, we arrived, shivering, drenched wretches, and obtained tickets.
We were off to Jeonju, a city we’d swithered about staying in, but decided to do it. A train and taxi ride later, with the taxi driver unable to find our hotel, we were unceremoniously dumped in the city centre, and left to fend for ourselves. We eventually found the hotel. It was full. They sweetly drove us to another hotel, where we settled in and then headed out for pizza, salvaging our rainy travelling day with food and later drinks at a local coffee shop.
Another bright and early day yesterday took us on an hour-long bus to the very lovely Maisan Provincial Park. The park has two peaks that look like horses’ ears, and a very, very large number of steps. The scenery was lovely and there was a really interesting area called Tapsan which consisted of temples, and stone towers. We walked past a lake, then had a very good bimimbap lunch, and finished off with a climb up a big hill, before catching a bus back to Jeonju.
We popped back to our hotel and then strolled down to a beautiful, traditional area of Jeonju called the Hanok Maeul, with lots of traditional style Korean houses, many made into cafes, restaurants, and a quirky wine museum which we visited. A music festival was starting so we had a quick listen at their outdoor stage before retiring for coffee and cake. We returned to town to get some cash and do a tiny bit of shopping (it was freezing and we bought cardigans!) and then returned to the Hanok Maeul for dinner in a lovely Italian restaurant. Sadly I’d been struck down with a dodgy stomach, which was most unfortunate. Indeed, having finished the meal and had a peppermint tea in a nearby café, I was obliged to usher us home to bed. And had a lovely night spent mainly in the bathroom…
Still feeling rubbish today, but spurred on a) by our successful trip to Maisan Provincial Park, and b) by the lack of rooms available in Jeonju this evening, we have relocated to Daedunsan Provincial Park where the tourist office man in Jeonju booked us a room in an incomprehensible local motel. This was almost definitely a mistake. There was practically nobody on our bus. We stepped off into chilly mountain air. A random shop owner approached us quizzically and I handed her the post-it note with our motel name written on it in Korean characters. She zoomed off with it to make a phonecall, and before long the proprietor of the motel was dashing down a steep hill to meet us. She then pranced back up it like a mountain goat, with Roz and me trudging weakly behind her, looking at the scary-looking restaurants, the middle-of-nowhereness, and rather wishing we were still in Jeonju. We’re now both hiding in our less-than-glamorous room and trying to work up the courage to go up a mountain…
Oh the horror of not having written a blog for so long! We left you in Jeju city, where we popped in to a Paris Baguette for breakfast, then we hopped on a bus in the other direction along the perimeter of the island, and got off at a random roadside with a track leading 2.5km down to what is probably the biggest lava cave in the world. A lava cave essentially looks like the lair of a giant, evil snake. It’s black, with swirls and swoops as you imagine the molten lava flowing. The cave was about 17km long, but a 1km section was open to the public. We made our way down into the darkness, and did the walk, over rough, irregular ground, til we got to an illuminated 7m high tower of lava that marked the end of the walk. Fascinating, though personally I preferred the half-lava, half-limestone caves in Hallim Park…
After a picnic lunch on the grass courtesy of Paris Baguette (I have never eaten so many bagels!) we went to the other entertainment of the day, a maze. I rather like mazes. Unfortunately this one was filled by hundreds of shrieking, shoving schoolchildren, who made the experience rather less fun… we were very bitter to see them all leaving at the same time as us! But we persisted and were successful in solving the maze.
We’d planned to go to a nearby beach after this, but the weather turned grey, so we headed back into town where we established ourselves with kiwi juices at a book café, then another café, where we made excellent progress with our books before retiring to – oh the shame – the same excellent Indian restaurant!
The next day we awoke early for what I had absolutely expected to be a treat – a three hour sail from Jeju to Mokpo, in mainland South Korea. Alas I hadn’t really thought it through. First, the weather was miserable. Secondly the boat tossed and turned. Rather than the pleasure trip I’d anticipated, Roz and I sat on the floor outside in the rain, green, cold, and nauseous, and praying for it to be over, which thankfully it eventually was. Weirdly the taxi at the port didn’t want to take us to the train station, so a 25 minute walk later, we arrived, shivering, drenched wretches, and obtained tickets.
We were off to Jeonju, a city we’d swithered about staying in, but decided to do it. A train and taxi ride later, with the taxi driver unable to find our hotel, we were unceremoniously dumped in the city centre, and left to fend for ourselves. We eventually found the hotel. It was full. They sweetly drove us to another hotel, where we settled in and then headed out for pizza, salvaging our rainy travelling day with food and later drinks at a local coffee shop.
Another bright and early day yesterday took us on an hour-long bus to the very lovely Maisan Provincial Park. The park has two peaks that look like horses’ ears, and a very, very large number of steps. The scenery was lovely and there was a really interesting area called Tapsan which consisted of temples, and stone towers. We walked past a lake, then had a very good bimimbap lunch, and finished off with a climb up a big hill, before catching a bus back to Jeonju.
We popped back to our hotel and then strolled down to a beautiful, traditional area of Jeonju called the Hanok Maeul, with lots of traditional style Korean houses, many made into cafes, restaurants, and a quirky wine museum which we visited. A music festival was starting so we had a quick listen at their outdoor stage before retiring for coffee and cake. We returned to town to get some cash and do a tiny bit of shopping (it was freezing and we bought cardigans!) and then returned to the Hanok Maeul for dinner in a lovely Italian restaurant. Sadly I’d been struck down with a dodgy stomach, which was most unfortunate. Indeed, having finished the meal and had a peppermint tea in a nearby café, I was obliged to usher us home to bed. And had a lovely night spent mainly in the bathroom…
Still feeling rubbish today, but spurred on a) by our successful trip to Maisan Provincial Park, and b) by the lack of rooms available in Jeonju this evening, we have relocated to Daedunsan Provincial Park where the tourist office man in Jeonju booked us a room in an incomprehensible local motel. This was almost definitely a mistake. There was practically nobody on our bus. We stepped off into chilly mountain air. A random shop owner approached us quizzically and I handed her the post-it note with our motel name written on it in Korean characters. She zoomed off with it to make a phonecall, and before long the proprietor of the motel was dashing down a steep hill to meet us. She then pranced back up it like a mountain goat, with Roz and me trudging weakly behind her, looking at the scary-looking restaurants, the middle-of-nowhereness, and rather wishing we were still in Jeonju. We’re now both hiding in our less-than-glamorous room and trying to work up the courage to go up a mountain…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)