Heart and Seoul.

I only wish I could tell you the down and dirty shenanigans of our weekend in Seoul, but it wouldn’t be blog appropriate. After all, my Grandma reads this.

As the last trip of this rollercoaster ride, no doubt we took this ride off the tracks.

We landed at 9pm, arriving in Itaewon around midnight. I had this sudden burst of energy… I looked up and down the party streets, thinking, I want to be out there. Seoul, I don’t know what you’re doing to me? Who was I?

However, sense got the best of me. We grabbed a kebab and headed over to our hostel. I wanted to be well rested for the next 48 hours in Seoul. There were socks and face masks that had to be bought, after all.

Saturday morning, we began our day at the Original House of Pancakes. Having a proper American breakfast in Asia, was a game changer.

We visited the neighborhoods of Insadong and Myeongdong. We bought our silly socks and face masks, ate street food and drank out of an IV pouch, and had a one hour full body massage from “Happy”, which turned out to be yet another pulling and pushing beating…

However, because of Jordans lack of skill with direction 😉 and the abundance of steps and inclines, the foot rub was most needed and thoroughly relaxing.

When back in Itaewon, we perused the strip and found a restaurant that had one of Jordans favorite Korean dishes: Bibimbab.

It is rice, vegetables, meat and an egg yolk. You stir the egg yolk into your meal, right after it is served to you, in order to cook it. Maybe it was the restaurant, but it wasn’t my thing- no matter how much hot sauce I put into it.

It comes with a variety of sides… tofu, kimchi, and possibly dried fish. I’m still unsure of what I ate.

The scene on the strip… which is actually a back alley of one of the main roads…. felt like a street fest and had me craving Chicago summers. The back alleys in Seoul are where the magic happens. Hoards of people inside and outside, drinking, laughing, and… well, so many things.

I couldn’t wait to kick it, but not until after we dropped off my 23 pairs of socks, 16 face masks, Daiso trinkets, and teapot.

Don’t think I’d impress that traveling UK rugby team from Hong Kong that we stumbled upon, looking like a homeless lady or a broad with a shopping problem… Either way you look at it, wouldn’t have won them over.

But first, we thought we’d hit “Seoul’s Largest Bar Crawl” in Hongdae. “It’ll be a great way to meet people,” we said. Upon arriving, we immediately regretted it. Let’s just say, the hottest man there, was a military guy smashing beer bottles outside. No one needs any of that. I’ve already had enough drama to last me a lifetime.

We ditched the crew, with an “I need to use the bathroom”, running up the stairs and hopping in the first available taxi.

Because I wasn’t let into any of the clubs in Itaewon, as I wasn’t carrying my passport, because you know, I look under the age of 18…. we ended up at the bars that did let me in…. Including what would now be infamous to Jordan and I after our weekend stint…. Fat Alberts.

Who are we kidding, it was that traveling Rugby team causing a raucous in and outside of the bar that led us there. Our weekend in Seoul…. always comes back to them.

Walking into Fat Alberts, we saw men kissing men…. men wearing Hawaiian skirts, speedos, tanks that read VIRGIN and sporting tiaras… who referred to themselves as Queen….

When we asked for the WiFi password, which was “BigGayAl”, J and I looked at each other. Of course these beautiful, athletic men were on a Gay Rugby team… and we were in fact, in a gay bar.

They were fun and made us laugh, so we stuck around these lads, knowing it would full well be, an eventful evening.

However, they started flirting… and talking about women…. were they in fact, not a gay rugby team?!

We had to ask. They roared with laughter.

The “Queens” were tour virgins. It was their hazing weekend… The kissing I still don’t understand, but let’s chalk it up to “bromance”.

Either or, we were 2 ladies, amidst 43 ringless, successful men between the ages of 25 and 40, claiming the single life. They were attractive… athletic…. travelers… with English accents… of course, we were blind sided and some of us got duped.

You would have too.

We joined in on their bar crawl… dancing… singing along to the best of the 90’s… drinking too many mojitos… and taking one too many shots.

Next thing I know, it’s 3:30am and I’m eating yet another kebab.

After waking, I popped a few Aleve’s, chased them with a Diet Coke and we were off to Joyti’s Indian for lunch. Jordan bragged about this place for days… and there was a reason why. Tandoori Chicken, butter chicken, Samosa’s, basmati rice, and butter naan…. take me back. Just take me back.

I’m really looking forward to the conversation when I’m back home and someone asks me the WEIRDEST thing I did while in Asia.

Well, let me tell you. Thanks for asking-

I had my womb cleaned.

I had my naked body scrubbed of dead skin, by an ajumma (Korean Grandma) in her undies. Who then bathed me and washed my hair. In a room full of naked women also getting scrubbed and bathed.

At the Dragon Hill Spa, I was handed prison gear (literally, an orange jumpsuit) given to me at reception to wear while in the saunas as those were mixed gender… Saunas that were inside pyramids, yurts, salt caves and igloos, which ranged from -4 Celsius to 97 Celsius… In the 97 C, I felt I were being burnt alive. I thought to myself, this is yet another way I could go…. getting trapped inside this hell.

Then it was time for the baths. With the prison gear, they gave you 2 hand towels. I stripped down, holding one of the towels to cover the little that I could.

After about the 3rd bath, my towel was soaked and I realized modesty is overrated.

I ditched the hand towel.

I lined up and waited for my scrub down. The other women all wanted to make small chat… and all I could think was how strange this already was- no need for idle chitchat to add to it.

I laid on what looked like a hospital surgery bed, with the sterile plastic encasing the flat bed.

The ajumma threw large bowls of hot water over me, lathered me up, and went to work. She had me rotate in this position and that position, so that she could get every nook and cranny.

The dead skin… so much dead skin… was disgusting, yet impressive.

Again, large bowls of water were thrown on me, my hair was washed and tied up, and I was sent on my way.

Days later and my skin stills feel like a baby’s bottom.

Then, Jordan and I went into another room, given a heavy, plastic gown that was put over our heads, and told to sit over a hole.

They gave us a cup of tea, threw herbs into a pot, which they then lit on fire inside of the hole.

We sat on this hole for near an hour, bodies burning, drenched in sweat as steam went up our hoo-ha to clean that good ole womb.

I also most likely dropped a few pounds of water weight. So, it was a win win.

I would have put the orange jumpsuit back on and napped in the pyramid, but time was running out.

One last bubble tea and trip to Daiso, and off to the airport.

… Ok, Universe, we get you’re powerful. We understand we need to be more mindful of what we throw out to you.

However, sometimes, don’t take me so literally.

Our rugby pals were sticking around until Monday afternoon. I kept saying to Jordan over the weekend, “We should call in sick and rebook our flights. They’re ax-ing us next week anyhow.”

We thought about it… even checked into flights. Sadly, they were too expensive and fear of the people we work for, made our choice.

But then… when getting into a taxi, checking the terminal for our Sunday night flight… we saw that our flights were really booked for the NEXT night. Jordan SWEARS she looked over the itinerary, time and time again.

I didn’t know how to re-act… be furious at Jordan for the error? Or giddy that the Universe listened and we can have yet another night full of debauchery? This rugby team… were my kind of people. Hangin’ with them was like Purdue on steroids. They started partying at breakfast. They were completely and utterly, ridiculously out of control. Reading their texts throughout the day had me full of jealousy. Although, that scrub was super nice.

For the minutes of back and forth with our boss, faking an emergency, I chose to be panicked and furious. The people we work for are irrational and a ticking time bomb… Lord, only knew the consequence for the last 2 American teachers, to both not be there on Monday. Whatever, Jordan had a “mild concussion” after all… from her “fall” in the street… and I had to stay back as well to “monitor her symptoms”.

But let me tell you, after we checked back into our hostel and hit that back alley… finding ourselves at Fat Alberts yet again with those rugby boys… all was forgiven. Yes, Jordan was off the hook long before I had “forgiven” her.

We were back for Round 2, and what a round it was.

Thank you to the Rugby Team players for gracing us with your presence. I suppose, thank you, Universe as well.

Since we had a repeat, of our last day in Korea, we chose to have another American breakfast, this time eating at Flying Pan. Banana and walnut pancakes, topped with vanilla ice cream…. Veggie panini with tomato soup…. Amazing.

We did some leisure shopping- I bought knock off air pods that work when they choose to and some pirated DVDs. Who doesn’t need their own copy of, ‘A Star is Born’?

We sat back with a bucket of actual, popped, buttered popcorn, nachos, and diet cokes and finallllly saw The Avengers. One of the things I miss the most, is going to the movies. In most of Asia, they don’t pop movie theatre popcorn. They have ‘popcorn labs’ with various flavored popcorn. It may sound cool, but it’s just not the same thing. Also, to see a movie without subtitles… and not in 4D…

When I get home, “Sorry guys, I’m busy.”… You can find me at the movie theatre.

Again, we made sure that tonight was indeed our flight. After triple checking, we had one last kebab and made the trek to the airport. Oh, and at Inchon Airport, Baskin Robbins sells the ice cream version of Mochi balls. Just sayin’.

Seoul, you win. Yet, another country to have a piece of my heart.