I’ve committed a SIN, gone to HEL and back and I’ve had my KIX. Now I’ve got PUS.
That’s Busan to you. But I do feel pus-filled right now.
Despite my utter exhaustion, I have another awful mucus filled night with limited and restless sleep.
There is a runway visible out our window, but not much action happening on it. The skies are very hazy, but blue.
We check out of the Hotel Nikko and stop to buy an onigiri and sandwiches for breakfast, then cross over to the airport terminal to check in for our flight.
Airside at KIX is all fancy now, with luxury brands, expensive ramen, onigiri hamburgers and Gundam models. Our Air Busan flight is located at Gate 8 at the most distant end of the 1.7 kilometre long terminal 1, reachable only by the automated shuttle train. It’s rather familiar, because that’s the same end that we use for our Jetstar flights to and from Australia.
Before we catch the shuttle, we stop to buy a Le Tao cheesecake. Not the same one from Sydney that I had proposed be for the birthday, but a rockmelon flavoured one.
Nothing much has changed around the distant gate. A couple of small shops and eateries. We sit and rest until our flight is called.
Our Air Busan Airbus A321 was changed to a shorter A320, but our seats were moved to the perfect row 10, so I don’t mind. The cabin looks fresh and clean with a blue and white theme and there are still magazines and a duty free catalogue.
An announcement is made that the flight time is only 55 minutes, but the reason for the 1.5 hours scheduled becomes apparent with the long taxi around to the start of the runway. Then the engines spool up and we are up into the hazy blue skies.
It is a smooth ascent across the water. We sail over the summer clouds, which block most of whatever view can be seen beneath the haze. Eventually we return over land, but it is difficult to make out much below.
I just listen to music with noise cancelling headphones. Despite annoucements being made in Korean and English, including those of the pilots, they are all unintelligible and muffled.
There are a few niggling bumps, but Turbli has promised us a smooth ride. We descend away from the clouds, so they don’t cause any hassles either.
I wish we were sitting on the right side of the plane, because I can see the expanse of Busan’s highrise canyons and hills during our approach.
We fight strong crosswinds on final descent, mud flats, new apartment towers and small farms visible out of our window until we finally touch down on the tarmac. Then plane taxis past airforce transports, including Airbus MRTTs until we come to a stop at Gimhae’s terminal.
Damn, it’s a bus gate!
I’ve forgotten to bring a printout of our hotel’s address, which you need for immigration, and have to use the terminal’s wifi to retrieve it. The fingerprint readers have problems with my index fingers, as usual.
We emerge into the summer heat and take the two car light rail from the airport to Sarang and change to the subway. On the way up and down the many stairs, carrying luggage, I hurt my back again.
The lifts and escalators are hidden away in Korean subways and often don’t take you where you want to go. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but my lower back is spasming and my lungs are filled with gunk and it is hard work.
It is a relief to arrive at the hotel, but we are all hungry, so our stay is short. We cross over to the Samjung Tower. Heading up the levels we find a restaurant serving rice bowls. I order one with snapper, Alex has pork galbi and B abalone. After you scoop and eat the contents you fill the pot with hot water and rice powder and scrape the bottom to flavour the soup.
The building houses an amusement arcade and Pop Mart, Animate, Gundam and Tamiya outlets. Our primary destination is Running Man, a series of physical activities that the other two loved last visit (I had a sprained ankle). This time I join them.
We oldies fail miserably to complete the tasks and my back hurts.
Afterwards it is time for a wander. We have a fruit bowl at a Sulbing dessert cafe, then B and Alex find clothes at Spao.
Alex is too full for anything and the thought of pork intestines and tripe soup outside the Seomyeon Markets is off-putting to all but B. The interior of the market is quiet, mainly elderly people drinking.
Instead we eat a dinner of fried soy-garlic chicken wings and tteokbokki at Kyochon. The I’m-too-full Alex still has stomach for them and for a bowl of instant noodles from a convenience store afterwards.
Maybe it was the long underground walk back to the hotel. My back keeps spasming, but fortunately Voltaren is sold in Korean pharmacies. I decline to get the bottles of cold medication from the convenience store, but maybe I should.
I’m so tired! I wish I could just lie in bed for a day, but I don’t want to spoil the holiday.