Alright folks, I’m breaking the radio silence for the first installment of “Tito goes to Incheon”. Does that sound like a comic book to anyone else? I’ll start working on the illustrations, but first some text:
In a scant 12 first hours in Korea, I’ve already eaten myself into a stupor twice. Last night, it was a massive, carved-stone bowl of what I can only describe as “essence of ocean”. Full of fish heads, spines, and various entrails (some of which I ate around), plus with a menacing red color, I was happily sweating after the first three bites. And I mean sweating. (A concerned waitress came over to ask if I was okay.) This was the perfect follow-on after being introduced to a traditional bath house (yes, the hotel has one), which is by far the best cure for jetlag I have ever encountered. Jokes about naked men and appetite will be omitted lest I loose my posting privileges for the rest of the trip.
Then this morning it was a breakfast buffet to end all buffets. The ubber-hip hotel (I think the walls would continue to pulse even if they turned off the electric lounge music) has eight restaurants all incorporated into one enormous maze-like space. Open kicthens (eight of them, if you weren’t paying attention) and shiny things abound. Breakfast is part Korean (rice, kimchi, dried bits of fish, cold miso soup) and part western (bacon, potatoes, pastries… did mention the bacon?). Feeling a foot (or stomach) in each world, I loaded up a full plate from the Korean buffet, then went back for a western round. The only hitch was the coffee– the convention here is to only serve a half-cup at a time, so the poor waiter was coming back to my table constantly. It’s cruel game for both parties when you can drink it faster than they can pour it.
Alright, time to find some mudflats. Over and out.