Everything was duty free and nothing hurt
I am: legend, groot, your father, duty free
Riding in cars with duty free saleswomen
When Harry met a duty free saleswoman
Clearly, arriving in Seoul after 20 or so cumulative travel hours has left me with many wit and much brainpower. So it seems like a good time to restart the blog.
Status: ICN smells like sweat, duty free perfume, and the distinct aroma of an Asian market’s mix of dried up critters that are sure to increase virility tenfold. Of the snacks that departed with me from Columbus, half a bag of peanuts and a five hour energy remain - the situation has become dire. In the jungle of duty free Fendi/Louis/Prada a lone cafe is spotted. I am parched. Stranded without Korean money, clearly the only solution is to buy “4000 units” of Korean currency worth of evian water on my BoA card with absolutely no idea what the conversion rates might be. Bold move. I HAVE NO IDEA WHATS GOING ON. This is compounded as I try to swerve around a Korean cultural center reenactment of some kind of royal family parade. It may be a duty free jungle/trap but ICN has style. Between the melatonin mixed with airplane coffee and perplexing lack of any actual night time atmospheres, my body is extremely confused. I’m probably tired?
Here’s hoping I don’t fall asleep in the terminal…
See ya soon Shanghai!