October 2nd

Surprisingly lively considering the lack of sleep, I leave most of my fellow passengers as they head for transfer flights while the few of us who are ending our journey in Korea make our way through passport control. It’s quick and uneventful and before I know it I’m standing with my all worldly goods alone in Seoul airport. I have the feeling that I’m in an airport – nothing more, nothing less.

Following instructions received in an 11th hour email, I change all my money into Won, find a pay phone and dial a number. The man on the phone is expecting my call and tells me a taxi – his wife - will pick me up outside Gate 8. She arrives promptly, says very little. We pick up someone else – an ex-Scot-now-Kiwi who has a few days stop over before continuing on home. He tells me we are being taken to a hostel near the airport, which is as much as I know about anything so far.

The hostel is lovely, and I have the five-bed room to myself. I take a much needed shower and return to Errol’s room to take him up on his promise of a tour of the local shops. He’s a friendly old ex-seaman from Aberdeen and we stroll about in the warmth of the early evening swopping stories. Back at the hostel we share a beer and smoke a few cigarettes before I return to my room and slip between the first clean and comfortable sheets I’ve seen in a few nights. The taxi driver told me someone would pick me up at 7am, so I need the early night.