Another Christmas

Waking up on Christmas morning always has a thrill to it, even when you wake up alone in a small room, in a country that doesn’t celebrate Christmas and in the certain knowledge that not a single gift-wrapped parcel or the smallest piece of tinsel is anywhere to be seen.

I spend a few minutes savouring the fact that I have four whole days of doing nothing then get out of bed to turn on the heating. It is cold today. Despite this, I am determined to brave the elements and try out the little yellow scooter I bought yesterday evening. It has been a while since I drove any kind of motorised vehicle and a lifetime since I rode one with two-wheels, but how hard can it be?

The sun is high in a bright blue sky by the time I pull the scooter off its stand. I feel several degrees removed from the world in the full face helmet, thick leather gloves and hiking boots; never a good place to be when you’re about to launch yourself into traffic. I lift the visor to let the cold air smack me back into reality.

The bike starts first time and I try a few tentative circles around the yard. Next I try driving up and down the quiet street nearby. I wish it had a clutch. The only thing between zero and a wheelie is the throttle on the right handlebar and the gloves feel like pillows, muffling any sensitivity in my right hand. They have to go, so I switch to my wool gloves though I know I will suffer for it.

With a deep breath I head for the main road out of town, just as I remember that I didn’t bring the map I dug out last night. It’s not a problem – this is an island with just a few intersecting roads around it – I just need to head south, towards the sea.

After ten or fifteen minutes I reach the garlic museum and pull in. It’s closed, which is fine as I didn’t plan to do the tour. I just need to stop and gather myself together. I’m stiff with tension and cold already but I force myself to go on. I can’t be defeated by weather or weakness so after a few minutes I hit the road again. Traffic sails by me giving me a wide berth which is good. It’s surprisingly bumpy; I try to avoid potholes and check my speed, though kph don’t really register with me at all. I try to do conversions in my head but all I can figure is that I’m not going as fast as I think I am. I suspect I’m likely to be overtaken by cyclists at this speed, but convince myself that I should only be going as fast as feels comfortable – I’m not in a hurry.

Ahead of me is a sign to Sangju which is where I planned to go; the famed south beach of Namhae. Instead I take a smaller road heading west. I know I’ll find the sea there too. It’s closer and I’m already chilled to the bone. I’ve proved enough to myself for one day.

The road twists and climbs until I reach a peak giving me a view of the clear blue ocean. This is what I came for. I find a place to pull in at a construction site, park the scooter and walk back towards the coastline. Down below, men busy on a building site find time to wave to me as I take photographs of the beach beyond. I stay only a few minutes, too cold to stand still for long.

The scooter doesn’t want to start again and I notice that the tank which was almost full when I set out is now past the half way mark. I take this as a sign to call it a day. The engine sparks into life just as a construction worker starts to head over to help me out. I give him the thumbs up and head back the way I came. As I hit the main road again and turn towards Namhae eup it occurs to me that here I am, on my own, riding a scooter in South Korea on Christmas Day. I laugh out loud. I feel slightly insane as the sound of my own laughter rolls around inside my helmet; it may be a short ride for mankind, but this is an epic trek for me.

My tank isn’t anywhere near empty but I pull into a garage anyway and fill it up. I do it because I’m going to have to figure it out sooner or later, and today seems like a good day to figure things out. By mid afternoon I’m back home again, warm and comfortable with dinner bubbling away on the stove.

I’ve never been very good at holidays. I’ve never really figured out what you are supposed to do with all that free time. So after three days of sleeping, wandering aimlessly around town and watching too much T.V., going to work today was a relief. Arriving fifteen minutes later than usual was clearly still too early - I’m the first in the dark, unheated staff room. It’s a pleasant day, scratching out the ideas I’ve been brewing for the various holiday classes I’m teaching. I reply to the people who responded to my requests for e-pals for my students; so far I have contacts in Israel, Italy and the U.S. Ideas are swelling up like soufflés in my head and I’m looking forward to the coming school year.

Mid afternoon my mobile rings; I only acquired it on Christmas Eve so it takes me a minute to realise it’s my phone. Unfortunately it’s all in Korean so not as useful as it could be, but I manage to answer the call. It’s a friend I made in Jinju. We agree to meet in Samchoenpo later this week, which means that my next long weekend holiday might be more sociable than the last. Perhaps I should have suggested meeting for New Year’s Eve. I don’t know why I didn’t. Maybe I just didn’t want to sound desperate and friendless. Ah well, it’s not the real new year anyway – I’ll save the celebrating for the lunar new year in January. When in Rome…..