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Pictures would be best at describing my weekend motorcycle trips. From them you would see mountains blooming with spring flowers and farmers planting their rice fields. Other pictures with their the countless dilapidated traditional houses, hillside graves, and mountain temples would show you what are now common sights for me.

Of course a video might be better. For it would show you the cherry blossom petals falling from the trees and rushing around me like a winters snow. Or the small deer that raced alongside my motorcycle and then darted off into the safety forest.

Then again this oddly worded blog and your vivid imagination might be all that's needed to feel the damp mountain air, see the strange sights, and smell the farmers cow manure.

Fleeting Fame

I wonder if the man who wears the Mickey Mouse suit at Disney World feels the same sense of false celebrity I felt today.

One would assume that the streets of an English Village(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/English_village) would be teaming with foreigners hired create a " Western Atmosphere". Surprisingly, this assumption is wrong. Thus my white face and "handsome looks" drew scores of Korean children hell bend on using their English upon me like a hoard zombies to a live body. Most if not all of the children were polite and began with, "Excuse me." Then followed up with, whats your name, are you married, what do you like about Korea, and so on. Surprisingly others wanted autographs and pictures with me. All in all it was rather surreal and in the confines of that English village a handfull of other luck foreigners and I added a few more seconds to our fifteen minutes of fame.

She'll have the...

Finding my date was not easy last night. She had called at the last minute and given me directions in Korean to a part of the city I rarely visit. At first I debated whether or not to go. It was raining outside and I had absolutely no idea where I was going; then again the whole thing sounded like a fun scavenger hunt.

So after asking for directions from no less than ten people, being given three hand drawn maps, following someone in their car, and ridding around in the rain for thirty minutes I found the restaurant.

Since I was rather late, my date and the other couple had already begun eating a meal comprised of a soup made with kimchi, fish intestine, and fish eggs sacks and side dishes of silkworm and of course more kimchi. It was a strange reward for such a difficult and long scavanger hunt, but atleast the soju kept the silkworm down.