Dearest Rachel –
I think I’m still suffering from the same lassitude as I was dealing with yesterday. I’m certainly in no hurry to get off the ship, and it’s probably just for the best.
But it’s not as if I actually have any choice. Everyone’s required to get off and speak with immigration for inspection now that we’ve landed in South Korea. So whether I’m wanting to or not, I will need to get off the ship at some point; preferably within the next half hour or so.
It’s a soggy trip to the port authority and immigration center, but the line is surprisingly short, and we’re done with the requirements fairly quickly. Now, the challenge is to make my way into the city itself; there are supposed to be some free shuttles that will do this, but it’s hard to tell which are which, and which are part of one excursion or another.
It doesn’t help that the parking lot is soaked (and not getting any less so), with puddles the size of small lakes, and none too shallow, either. Wading through them causes the water to seep into my shoes; I’m going to be wringing my socks out when I get back, that’s for sure. But if I’m to get into town, it’s what I have to do; and if I have to actually get off this ship, I really ought to make it worth my while.
A group of us find a bus that appears to be driving people out to the Busan Station (presumably the train or subway hub). At first, however, we’re dissuaded from getting on it, for reasons that don’t seem to be quite clear right away. But after a while, as people continue to congregate in front of it (in clusters to avoid the deepest puddles), the guide relents, and lets us board. Turns out that the reason for this was because this was a shuttle chartered by Seabourn, who’s also got a ship in the harbor. There is a regular free shuttle to the Busan Station, but it only runs every forty minutes, whereas the Seabourn shuttles are either every ten or twenty minutes; I never quite figured out as to which it was. Either way, it seems they took pity on us poor drowned rats, and let us ride with them.
Upon arriving, the first thing I do is to take the stairs down to the subway station. Not that I intend to ride it, necessarily; it’s just a means to get out of the rain, and perhaps do some browsing among the shops down there – assuming there are any.
It never quite does, to be honest, putting a literal damper on the day. At the same time, those moments when I do brave the weather allow me time to wander about with minimal interaction with other people; trust me, honey, this bothers me considerably less than it would you, I dare say. Granted, it means that there are fewer stores open – and those that are don’t have their wares out for display in most places, for obvious reasons – reducing the number of ‘shopportunities,’ but apart from the fact that I’ve gone and gotten myself some local cash to spend, that doesn’t bother me too much.
However, it turns out that my first opportunity to spend money winds up being a credit-only establishment; at least, since my only interaction turns out to be with a kiosk.
I do manage to spend some of it at a café just before I decide to board the bus heading back – which turns out to be a mistake, as I shouldn’t have hurried to eat my… cookie? cake? It feels more like the latter, but calls itself the former. Anyway, I practically wolf it down, as much because it’s falling apart in my hand as the fact that I have a bus to catch, but when I get to the bus, the driver sees the drink in my hand and waves me away; that’s not coming onto his bus, no sir. Had I known that, I would have just eaten everything casually in the café…
…but it’s not as if I would necessarily have known that was how things would go down. Oh well, you live and learn.
Anyway, I should let you get on with your day. So do keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck; I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 