Sabbatical VXII – The Final 31 Hour Day

Wednesday June 26 – Last morning in Seoul.  I clean the apartment, including an expedition to the recycling/trash depot on sublevel 4.  The attendant is delighted to take my debris.

Somehow fit all my stuff back in my bag.  I didn’t buy a lot in Korea, but still, it seems tight.  Feels heavier too, but then I haven’t picked it up for a while.

Still feeling a bit run down.  I’m drinking lots (including a Japanese equivalent of Gatorade, called Pocari Sweat -not recommended) and taking my anti-cold herbal supplement.  No matter how I feel, I’m having a day, going to Incheon, and going home.

While I am looking forward to having a rest in familiar surroundings, I am also sad at the end of this trip.  If I had a next stop, and it was a serious few days of R&R, I could keep going.  But I’m not.  I planned what felt like enough, in terms of experiences, time, and costs.  Plus I have a family reunion to get to in Oregon after I get home.

So goodbye to the Kings Garden.  I have time, so one final experience, visit a jjimjilbang: a traditional Korean spa.  Onto the subway, two transfers later I arrive at Yongsan station.  A major nexus with the national train system:

I’d decided to go to the Dragon Hill Spa.  It was near Yongsan, it seemed foreigner-friendly, and it had a gonzo variety of things to try. 

I drag my bag to the entrance, past tacky Chinese statuary, an artificial stream and bamboo grove, and along irregularly laid wood blocks.  It’s so overdone that I’d run away if it weren’t for the many positive recommendations.  The interior is even more crammed with about five too many of every time of Chinese good luck and health symbol.  This lack of restraint is very unusual for Seoul, but I persist. 

Store my bags.  12,000 won gets me a key, electronic bracelet and spa clothing (shirt and shorts).  First task: store my shoes in the right locker.  I find it, but the key is square – it fits in the lock four ways.  Well, I try four times, and it finally works. 

Elevator to the men’s floor.  Find my locker.  Third try works.  First step is to get clean.  Like Japanese onsen, jjimjilbang cleaning stations (showers or stools) and hot tubs are used in the buff.  Doesn’t bother me.  Clean, over the next hour I try five different temperatures and flavors of hot tub – more than the average onsen.  In between soaks, I take cold soaks, which keeps me awake. 

Soggy, I get dry and put on my Dragon Hill costume, which almost fits:

Fifteen minutes in a massage chair.  Good.

I leave the men’s floor (yes, there is also a women’s floor) and try out the saunas and the ice room.  I’m relaxed, so a nap in the communal sleeping room.  Just a space full of mats, sparsely occupied in the middle of the day.  Then finally, a real massage.  Ouch.  My masseur seems intent on making my shoulders relax. 

Three and a half hours have passed quickly.  No time to use Dragon Hill’s gym, outdoor swimming pool, video game arcade, restaurants, or get a pedicure.  A plane to meet, so back to Yongsan and a 75 minute train ride to Incheon International Airport.  This is tons easier than the bus. 

Goodbye to luggage.  I had bought an upgraded ticket, so hello to the Asiana Airlines Business Class lounge, where I proceed to eat myself into a post -spa, end of trip stupor.  Not really, I’m too wired before flying to get sleepy.  But good food, good wireless, not awful coffee.  Lots of fluids. 

Eventually, a plane:

A new Airbus 350-900.  Priority boarding, lots of leg room.  Nine seats wide in my class.  This is so worth the extra cost. 

Take off roll, and we begin the 11 hour flight to SFO.

 

The plane is kept dark.  I sleep fitfully once my body realizes it’s going to be in a seat for a long time.  A decent Korean dinner of ssambap (with instructions on how to assemble the ingredients):

Sleep, or not. 

I’m a little put off by the plane and the flight attendants.  The whole vibe feels kind of formal and overly organized.  I flew exactly the same kind of plane on Singapore Airlines; the décor and seats on this Asiana plane are less comfortable – for one, the headrests don’t move up as high.  Singapore is my favorite airline, so I admit to possible bias.  Maybe it’s the tan color scheme as well.  The attendants do their jobs well, but some of them seem vaguely put out at having to provide service during the flight.  No question it’s a first class operation well deserving of its very high ratings, but maybe I’ll try Korean Airlines next time. 

Sleep, or not, more.  After a Korean breakfast, I use my upgrade toothbrush.  Bliss.

There is land, finally. A sense of descent and a broad turn:

Almost there, then touchdown.  Hello to baggage.  I blink and customs is done.  No beeping attachments.  A real cold brew coffee. 

BART seems small and dark compared to Seoul.  I think the cars really are smaller; most of the system is certainly older than the lines I rode in Korea.  In my one car, I see more Latinx than I recognized during my whole trip. 

Walk home.  

I am done - for now.