Our Blooper Reel

 

It hasn't all been smooth sailing on this trip. Here are a few tales of when things didn't quite go as planned.

A Wild Ride to Bulguksa Temple

    During our time in Korea, we visited Gyeongju, the ancient capital of the Silla Kingdom. The main attraction is the oddly tall, gentle green hills. These hills look a bit unnatural because they are in fact burial mounds for Silla's rich and powerful. We had a chance to look inside one that has been excavated, and see the impressive metalwork buried with its inhabitant.

    With some time remaining before our train to Busan, we caught a bus to Bulguksa Temple, about 40 minutes out into the surrounding mountains. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until Karen noticed that, on the list of destinations on the bus' window, "Bulguksa" was taped over. What could it mean? Matt asked the bus driver, "Bulguksa?" The driver looked alarmed, taking his hands off the wheel to make a big X with his arms, and shaking his head emphatically. Where were we going?!

    Korea has a tourist help line for just such occasions. Karen called and explained that a bus driver on a bus to Bulguksa was telling us he wouldn't stop at the temple. Was the temple maybe closed? The woman on the other line said it was very loud, and could Karen go somewhere quieter? "I can't," Karen tried to say loudly into the phone. "I'm on the bus right now!" The woman did some research and even called the temple, and assured us it should be open. Matt followed the bus' path and cross-referenced it with directions to the temple - not easy in Korea where Google Maps doesn't work. It seemed to be going to Bulguksa. We were slightly reassured when we realized only the English word "Bulguksa" was taped over- in Korean, it was still displayed.

    Ten tense minutes later the bus stopped in front of the temple, on schedule. What happened back there, on that wild bus ride? Dear reader, we do not know.

Parts of Bulguksa were covered with brightly colored paper

Karen outside the main entrance to Bulguksa

Making an Entrance

    The first thing we had to do after landing in Japan's Narita airport was navigate a long series of halls and escalators to reach customs. The flight was only about 2.5 hours and there was no timezone change, so we have no excuse for what happened next. As we descended an escalator, Matt's carry-on bag slipped out of his hand. Everyone on the escalator was standing dutifully on the left to allow passing on the right. Matt's bag just kept going, down that right-hand passing corridor, leaving a trail of surprised travelers in its wake. Finally someone stopped it and Matt caught up. Since then we've seen signs posted by escalators urging people to always stand downhill of their bags for just this reason. We're just grateful it wasn't an up-escalator, or the bag might still be falling to this day.

Who Needs Google Translate?

    On our way back from one of the fancier onsens in the Tokyo 'burbs, we passed a tasty-looking yakitori place and decided to get dinner. Our waiter was enthusiastic and seemed excited to try out his English with us. We ordered a drink and some skewers, and something on the menu called simply "cabbage." What arrived was a raw wedge of cabbage, next to a dollop of miso paste. This was not unwelcome- our diet of raw fish and noodles was lacking in produce and we were both eager for some roughage. But we were wary of offending by doing something wrong. Karen was certain the leaves were meant to be used as wraps for the bites of meat on our skewers.

    We got our waiter's attention and asked him how to eat the cabbage. He looked puzzled and said, "the normal way." Matt tentatively dipped a leaf in the miso paste and raised it to his mouth, looking quizzically at the waiter. He nodded encouragingly until Matt took a bite, saying, "Japanese way!"

    Success! And no Google Translate needed. It felt good to communicate through pantomime, pidgin English, and simple shared humanity. So when our skewers arrived and were presented to us as "heart," "liver", "tongue," etc, we were reluctant to take out our phones. But Matt was wondering what animal they were from. Asking, "which animal?" got only a confused look. Even bringing our entire knowledge of Japanese to bear and asking "dono... animal?" didn't work. So Matt pointed to the skewers, and moo-ed, made an elaborate shoulder-shrugging "or??" gesture, and did his best pig impression. The waiter looked afraid and horrified... so we used our phones to translate.

Soy Sauce Goes with Everything

    

Along with Matt's sister, Michaela, and her boyfriend, Alaric, we enjoyed a nice meal at an onsen in Hakone

Alaric is allergic to shellfish, so there was a brisk trade among us, exchanging fish for shellfish

The leaf in the top right contains a sweet cream-filled dessert

    While Michaela and Alaric were here we all went on an excursion to Hakone, a region known for its onsens. We decided not to stay the night at one of the expensive traditional inns, and instead bought day passes for an inn, which allowed us to use the hot springs and included a nice set meal (about $40 per person, a quarter the cost of staying overnight). The meal included many small morsels, including fried breaded crab claws, shrimp, fish, and scallops. Dessert was a small glutinous rice cake filled with cream, wrapped up in a leaf. As Karen finished up her meal, she unwrapped her dessert and pinched it between her chopsticks. Then, engrossed in conversation and operating on instinct, she dunked it in soy sauce.

    When she realized what she'd done, Karen was undaunted. She plunked the dessert in a bowl and poured water on it, drinking the water and repeating the process until it "no longer tasted salty."

    Karen isn't the only one to make a mistake like this. At a fancy onsen, Michaela reached for the cream and sugar on her table to add to her tea. She realized almost immediately that what she had taken for cream was actually soy sauce, and she put it back without using it. But she went ahead and added a heaping spoonful of "sugar" to her tea, only to find that it was actually salt. She couldn't ask for more tea without admitting that she had spoiled her first cup by dumping salt in it. She considered smuggling it to the bathroom one mouthful at a time, but ultimately just dumped it into a juice glass.

Fuji Fiasco

    Usually when we go out for the day, we bring some snacks with us- there's plenty of good food around but it's nice to know we have options. Twice now, we've tried to bring hard-boiled eggs as snacks. The first time, Matt soft-boiled the eggs because that's how he prefers them, not thinking about the struggle we would face trying to peel runny eggs in line at Tokyo Disney Sea. The second time was for our day trip to see Mount Fuji. Again, not thinking, Matt soft-boiled the eggs. But this time, Karen had the bright idea to pre-peel the eggs at home.

    The peeling process did not go smoothly, and the eggs ended up fairly smooshed. Nevertheless, we plunked them into their container, bagged it just in case, and threw the whole thing in a backpack. Later, as we walked along the edge of a lake and admired the iconic Fuji, we remembered the eggs just as we came across a pair of seats thoughtfully placed along the side of the trail. What a perfect spot to enjoy our eggs!

Eggs with a view!

    Unfortunately, unbeknownst to us, a perfect storm had been raging within the backpack the entire morning. The egg container tipped sidewise in the pack, and the liquid components of the runny yolks had filtered out into the plastic bag. We were left with a container of egg solids (pretty tasty!) and a bag of liquid yolk.

    We ate the egg solids, of course. Then we considered the liquid. It didn't look appetizing, but it was only egg yolk. Karen gathered up the bag, pinched it into a spout, and tilted some yolk into her mouth. The verdict? "I'm not going to finish that."

    Matt gamely offered to try it too, so Karen handed him the pinched top of the bag, letting the spout droop and spilling at least an egg's worth of yolk onto his pants. At this point we admitted defeat and surreptitiously poured the yolk into the grass.

Cheers!

    Since then, this modified version of Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons has been stuck in Karen's head for some reason:

But it was not your fault but mine

And it was your pants on the line

I really fucked it up this time

Didn't I, my dear?