Wando: The Details
Day 1: Cultists & Pink Chicken
The particulars of our misadventure in the south sea may be in order. Alex is a bit more succinct than I, and knowing that, I don’t feel too bad embellishing on his portrait of our excursion. For starters, our friendly ambassadors to Myeongsasimni (the beach on Shinji-do) were cultists. That’s right, just your standard, run-of-the-mill followers of some bizarre “faith” revolving around theories about the earth’s axis shifting. To save you from too much detail, this cult preaches meditation and the prophecies of Nostradamus and a pseudo-scientist from Nowhere, USA. THANKFULLY, we had the pesky language barrier preventing them from sucking our brains through our nostrils in an attempt to convert us.
Myeongsasimni beach
Our companions plied us with alcohol and fish while asking us to sing meditation mantras and to peruse their written material. Like I said before, we had the “barrier” to protect us from their constant barrage. Even they would eventually bore of pointing at the same two pictures, and saying the same 3 sentences in English. Whew!
Alex did rupture his eardrum, and was assaulted by a violent, vengeful and submerged tree stump. I, on the other hand was a body-surfing maniac, attacking the sea with a force found only in a person who (A) loves the water and (B) is seeking to escape an uncomfortable situation. Let me say, before coming across too harsh, that our two cult companions had the best intentions and were truly considerate and generous people. They were also, unbeknownst to us, harbingers of the awkward, anxiety-ridden following day.
Sunburned and exhausted we headed back to Wando, and the comfortable, quiet of our hotel. After a nap, a shower, and a gallon of water, we headed to town. Wando is like any American town on the outskirts of a tourist destination. So many people pass through, no one stays for any respectable amount of time, and the kids love that shit. I honestly believe that we heard more English attempted on this trip that at any other point in our stay thus far. The girls all thought Alex was cute, and people wanted to TALK. They just didn't have all the words they wanted to.
We ventured to a familiar resto-hof, for a pitcher of beer and, what would turn out to be possibly undercooked chicken. I say possibly, because the lighting was poor. It was probably my imagination considering that only Alex felt ill later on, but . . . . ANYWAY, we sat in a private booth and ate, drank, and enjoyed one another’s company. Lights out . . . it was a long dehydrating and sunburned day.
Ferry from Shinjo-do to Wan-do
Dalhae-do
Our companions plied us with alcohol and fish while asking us to sing meditation mantras and to peruse their written material. Like I said before, we had the “barrier” to protect us from their constant barrage. Even they would eventually bore of pointing at the same two pictures, and saying the same 3 sentences in English. Whew!
Alex did rupture his eardrum, and was assaulted by a violent, vengeful and submerged tree stump. I, on the other hand was a body-surfing maniac, attacking the sea with a force found only in a person who (A) loves the water and (B) is seeking to escape an uncomfortable situation. Let me say, before coming across too harsh, that our two cult companions had the best intentions and were truly considerate and generous people. They were also, unbeknownst to us, harbingers of the awkward, anxiety-ridden following day.
Sunburned and exhausted we headed back to Wando, and the comfortable, quiet of our hotel. After a nap, a shower, and a gallon of water, we headed to town. Wando is like any American town on the outskirts of a tourist destination. So many people pass through, no one stays for any respectable amount of time, and the kids love that shit. I honestly believe that we heard more English attempted on this trip that at any other point in our stay thus far. The girls all thought Alex was cute, and people wanted to TALK. They just didn't have all the words they wanted to.
Good news... we found our pet rock!
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