My trip began in Bangkok. Well really it began the night before in Ori. I hadn’t got much sleep since we had spent the night and quite a bit of the ensuing morning at a chicken and beer place indulging one last time in Korea’s favourite fast food past time. I had eaten a lot of chicken and drank a lot of beer, so my stomach wasn’t exactly in the best of conditions. I knew I was leaving Korea, so I wanted to get one last fill of delicious fried chicken and watered down shitty beer. I may have gone a bit overboard. This, coupled with the anxiety of leaving the ROK once and for all, was perhaps more than my body could handle at the time. Odorous vapors emanated from me at frequent intervals and I’m sure everyone around me was well aware of my gaseous state.
I didn’t want to use the toilet at Yaz and Keira’s place in order to spare them the terror that was brewing inside of me. I was really missing my apartment and my bathroom at this point, but alas it was no longer mine. As a result I didn’t sleep much that night and resorted to just laying on the floor with my eyes closed for about an hour.
When it came time to head to the airport bus I was totally out of it, and Yaz had decided to go into full on concerned parent mode. He was scouring through our bags ridding them of anything that he deemed was unnecessary, as well as making sure that we had what we really needed. Admittedly I may have over packed, deciding to bring around eight pairs of shorts for a trip that was only a little over a month. With gritted teeth I watched as most of them were pulled out among the cry, “these are going in the donation box!”
Yaz walked us to the bus stop in the light of the early hours and the trip to Incheon was fairly uneventful…I think- it definitely wasn’t one of the most lucid of journeys. Even the airport and the flight over to Thailand seemed a daze. When I finally came to I was in Bangkok, on my way to that black hole of all things sacred- Khaosan road.