Dear Patrick,

Thanks for the advice.

So, I've decided that maybe the best way to fall in love with a place is to experience it as a 13 hour intensive on little to know sleep.  Okay, that may seem a bit extreme, but it worked in Seoul and now that I am back in the states, I can officially say that Seoul is the best city (that I have been to) in Asia.

Elaborate?  okay.

I started my day watching the sun rise on the 14th of May from my window seat somewhere between Hanoi, Vietnam and Seoul, South Korea.  Upon touching down, I hopped a bus that dropped me off right downtown in front of the most informative and free tourist info-center I have ever been to.  I am pretty sure I said the phrase "all free?" about 27 times before I left stocked full of maps and literally books on things to do in the city.  Books.  Obviously, only the most important things caught my eye:

As I walked around the city, I kept thinking about how clean and friendly everything seemed.  Now, obviously, I understand the difference between cities in countries with flourishing economies vs. the not-so prosperous.  But there was something else I couldn't quite put my finger on.  And then it came to me.  Motorbikes.  There were no motorbikes in Seoul.  Now, don't get me wrong, despite my recent catastrophe, I remain a big fan of the motorbike, but after 5 months of choking back exhaust and near-death street crossings, the lack of Honda Waves was...refreshing.

After a few temple visits,

a couple of free museums,

and some aimless, yet enjoyable, wandering,

I decided it was time for lunch.  How do you pick where to eat lunch in Seoul?  Follow the flocks of businessmen.  I ended up sitting at a low table, shoeless, on a pillow eating the most incredible mystery meal (nobody spoke english) I had eaten in a long time.  I think there was Kim Chee involved...but this is just a guess.

Perhaps if I'd thought to take the picture before I gorged...I might have better luck with identification.  Oh well, the point is: it was good.  After lunch, on a whim, I walked about a mile down a random street with no intended destination, only to stumble across a traditional drumming and singing class attended by the friendliest old Korean women who invited me in, gave me a drum, and sang for me.

If only I had more time, I probably would have signed up for a year's worth.  After my old lady jam sesh, I started making my way back through the market, down the river walk (which was incredibly serene considering it is in the dead center of a huge, jostling city), and through a giant memorial celebration.  At last, I was back at my favorite little tourist info-center, where I unnecessarily returned my borrowed literature, and hopped a bus back to the airport.  

But, don't fool yourself into thinking that the day in Seoul stopped there.  Back at Incheon airport, I still had time to take a much-needed shower and even do a little arts and crafts...for old time sake.

And then, at the end of 138 days on the road, it was time to head home. 

But not before seeing the sun rise on the 14th of May one more time as I crossed the International Date Line.  Now there's something you don't see twice every day.