The Lil Nugget

L and I were the first of the five to leave for our Grecian adventure.  I left hell i mean work at 12 on Thursday and headed back to San Diego to grab our car and bags.  You see, being the economical (cheap) individuals we are we booked a flight out of LAX but didn't get a connecting flight there.  Rather, we opted to rent a car and drive to LAX because that was cheaper; even cheaper than driving our own car and leaving it in long term parking.

I arrived at Alamo at the same time as a plane must have arrived from the Philippines.  Think somewhere between the line for the cups and the line for the Matterhorn at Disneyland. I stood aimlessly until I realized there was a self help kiosk.  Now typically, I like to avoid such devices because I think part of what I am paying for is customer service, high maintenance? maybe.  But my ride to the rental car place aka my dad (solidifying his place for father of the year) was patiently waiting to make sure his daughter was taken care of and not as lost as she appeared to be. So I hopped on the kiosk, did a little swipy here and lil swipey there and bam had my contract and I was good to go pick my car.  Outside, I waved to my dad and Lafawnduh to let them no their watch was over and they could go. The representative directed me to the area to pick out my "economy" car.

"It's the left row all the way at the back"

I look down the beautifully paved early 1990's car garage and see tons of empty spaces, the sign economy, and then one little white car.  I looked at the rep.

"So you're saying that white one is mine"

She looks at the car, then at me, and laughs

"Yup"

I meander down to the little white sheep of a car that closely resembled a salvaged clown car.  Turned the key in the door and climbed it to the little Chevy. I turned her over and she purred like an overweight cat with asthma.  I patted her dashboard and said;

"well it's you and me lil nugget.  I just need you to get us to LAX"

With that, I pulled out scanned my contract and headed home to pick up the luggage.  I ate a few string cheeses while killing time and then headed to pick up L.  I arrived to provide curbside pick up service and L climbed.

"Man B you really have a thing for small cars"

I assured her, it was our economical decision that sealed our fate with the lil nugget.  We took of up the 5 hitting batches of traffic and long clear straight a ways were I was really able to push the Nugget.  Being the aggressive driver that I am, I would attempt to gain and pass people not realizing the delicate nature of the Nugget.  She would groan and clear her throat at the stomp of my right foot throwing the gas pedal to the floor.  Putting all her might into it, we maximized her strength only to accelerate a few mph.  The little nugget is no Lafawnduh and definitely no Silver Lady.

We arrived in LA with great timing and decided to run a few errands before assigning ourselves to the airport.  We drove one exit past LAX and got off and turned right to find a liquor store, cvs, and gas station.  We cruised down the street and several blocks in I noticed a liquor store on the right. 

"There we go, liquor first"

We pull closer and I start to break to pull in.

B - "ummm"
L - "UU this place looks a little rough"
B - "Umm yeah, I dunno should I stop?"
L - "No keep going"

I drive past.

"B where are we?"

We looked for signage.

L - "Oh my goes we're in Inglewood"

B - "Haha, opps!  Gosh I have never felt so white.  Everything about us is white, including our little nugget of a clown car."

L - "Let's get out of here."

B - "Yeah I 'll U turn up here.  Wait there's another liquor store, that one looks less threatening.  Should we try it?"

L - "Yeah it doesn't look to bad, why not."

We pull in, get out, and have to hand lock each door.  Paying special attention to the back seats because our bags were in there, not the truck because the trunk was to small.  We enter the store to find the counter completely enclosed by a clear plastic wall.  In order to assist, we have to point at times in the container and say this one, I would like one of... blah blah blah.  Now, this seems very simple.  But our 65 year old counter man had a hard understand on English, i think was hard of hearing, definitely, going blind, and I think he was stoned out of his mind.  Our conversations went mostly like this:

L/B "I would like xyz"

Blank stare.

L/B - "You know, xyz..."

Clerk - "lmnop"

L/B - "no, xyz"

Clerk - "x?"

l/B "uh, xyz."

Clerk - "XYZ?"

L/B - "Yes"

Clarke "Where?"

We'd walk over to the counter and point at it.

L/B - "Here"

clerk goes for an item 3 shelves up.

"This?"

L/B - "No, xyz, right here"

clerk- "This, abc?"

it went on and on and on.  I mean 10 minutes in a liquor store is 8 minutes to many.  Regardless, we got our items and then decided to bust out of Inglewood for the rest of our errands.  We headed back across the freeway into a fancy pants neighborhood where our whiteness blended better.  It's amazing the difference a right or left turn can make.  Finally, we head off to the rental car center and had to part ways with our nugget. We dropped her off and they inputted the Nugget's license plate and said:

Dude - "Ok Leslie Berry, that is it"

B -"Leslie Berry, no that's not my name you have the wrong contract"

Dude - "No see, Leslie Berry? You no know Leslie?" turns to L "You Leslie"

L - "No"

B - "No it's under my name"

Dude - "No it's under Leslie Berry, you write her name?"

B - "Dude no, here's my contract.  See B. D."

Dude - "oh no, no.  This is Leslie Berry"

Finally they call the manager who figures out they put Leslie's ressie under my name and vise versa.  How that actually happens is beyond me since they scan barcodes on the contract and cars upon departure and arrival.  But, cest le vie! We got it sorted and jumped on our transportation to the terminal.  From then on it was smooth sailing, checked in, went through security, got my honorary pat down, and headed to the Star Alliance executive lounge.  [Side note for the parentals - while checking in I filled out an emergency contact form.  Mom - you're mine, no offense dad ;) Since we were traveling together they assumed L had the same emergency contacts, lol. so if a tragic event occurs mom and dad, you are also l's emergency contacts.  In which case please refer to the emergency contact list I provided you and address accordingly.  also fyi, l's dad is the first point of contact:)]

Courtesy of all my work miles, I am a gold star alliance member and can get access to the lounge with a guest.  So naturally, L and I went in to explore the freebies.  It was heaven sent, since we were 3 hours early. We gorged ourselves on free beverages and food, including olives [#poundingolives] in out sauna-esq environment.  Yes, somehow despite being an executive lounge they didn't have a functioning A/C.  Sweltering.  Flushed faces and slight perspiration were a staple amongst all guest.  But clearly if it means free drinks and food, most people are willing to suffer the discomfort.

We eventually boarded and slept through the majority of our 10 and a half hour flight to Munich.  In Munich, we lapped the airport to get the blood circulating and reduce the cankles.  We also filmed my highly desired (by me) video of being a super hero.  I saw Stromae do it in a video awhile back and I have had it on my bucket list.  Thanks to L's patience and camera skills, I can now check that one off the list.

And now, we are on the flight to Athens.  We've consumed all our stashed snacks from the executive lounge in LAX and are anxiously awaiting planting our feet on solid ground.  Less than an hour we will be a stones throw from the Parthenon =)

We are here, awesome little digs:)

Our Little White Nugget

 

Living LAX on Lu-f-stanza

Super Hero Spotting in Munich

Our Hostel - Not too shabby

Reminiscing

 Indulging in enjoyable recollection of past events

I came to...

DMZ

Sunday we started our day of with Honey Butter bread.  We had been turned on to this by PK during our Bangkok visit.  So when we spotted a placed that sold the deliciousness in the Coex mall, we made a mental note to fit a visit in.  We sat down and anxiously waited our goodness.

Doesn’t it look amazing?  Sadly the taste did not live up to the image.  It was nothing like our Thai version.  In fact it was like very dense white bread with a small amount of butter topped with warm chocolate and whipped cream.  I mean don’t get me wrong, I ate it all and enjoyed it but it didn’t hold a flame to our sweet thai honey butter bread.

Socialite MR had one of his friends join us.  They went to highschool and hadn’t seen each other since.  CL is teaching English in Seoul and arrived less than a month ago.  The adjustment has been tough for her and she gladly took the opportunity to hang out with Americans and join us on our DMZ visit.  She has all sorts of stories about her experience recruiting into the English teaching program, her school assignment, and her daily life but I will let her tell that story via her up and coming blog – Soulless Seoul.

It was a 2 hour drive to the DMZ area.  We were escorted by Richard Geare, that was his English name.  His real name was Cho Chung Wong.  But he would also answer to the Korean word for poppy.  Interesting.

Given the recent concerns with North Korea, heading to the boarder of North and South Korea may seem stupid but what do we have to lose?   Any last shred of fear was utterly reduced when we arrived at the entrance to the military base and saw a giant childrens amusement park and kite park, that was packed, simply packed.  It was like seeing the Del Mar Fair at the entrance to Camp Pendleton.  So weird.  Once on the base, we made three stops.  The first was at the train station that is the last stop for South Korea and it continues onto North Korea.  Only two trains come through on a daily basis and the place is dead, straight twilight zone style.  

After that we went to the Dora Observatory, where you can look over into North Korea.  It was smog (common issue in Korea) so the view was minimal.  They have all sorts of rules about where you can and cannot take photos because they think some could be sold as intel to the north!?!?  At the Dora Observatory you are only allowed to take pictures behind the yellow line.  I opted to take this straight creeper shot of MR and CL and got yelled but they didn’t take my camera. 

Worth it.

The final spot we went to was the 3^rd infantry tunnel.  We started the visit with a propaganda video discussing how the DMZ area is a great thing that allows nature to prosper.  Super random.  After that we headed into the tunnel that was supposedly created by North Korea as an way to infiltrate South Korea without it being noticed.  Of course, North Korea says they were mining tunnels and have no intention of invading, right….

We donned yellow construction hats and placed our valuables in a locker. There was also no photo rules in the tunnel which we opted to ignore because how many times do you walk into a tunnel between the two Koreas!?!?!  I mean come on, if you can’t take photos how will instragram or facebook ever know you actually went there.  We were extremely cautious with our phones and cameras at first until we realized no one was down there and there weren’t any cameras, so then we did straight photo shoots.  Also, for the record the yellow helmets are completely necessary. I cannot tell you how many times it connected with the choppy, jaggedy ceiling.  Another affirmation that I am taller than the average Korean.

We made it back to the lobby and pulled our bags out of the lockers.  MR – “oh sh!t”.  CL and me “what”.  MR – “look”.  We turn around to see the sitting area in the lobby that has a giant tv.  On the tv is live feeds from about 24 different cameras that line the tunnel way.  So not only did the security there see our bold and cheeky photo shoot so did every person resting in the lobby. 

Gangnam Style

Now, rarely do you considered eating with the management team a work perk, but Saturday night was an exception.  We had reservations at one of the best sashimi places in Korea in the Gangnam district.  Our MD was friends with the head chef since grade school and he was bringing a 30 year old bottle of Scotch that we would be drinking over glaciers (illegally) imported from the South Pole.  Illegal being a term used loosely because they explain while it is illegal to actually “harvest” glacier you can bring back whatever you incidentally caught while fishing.  

The Scotch was amazing and the dinner was ridiculous.  All sorts of sashimi, including lobster that split in half that moved when you touched it because it was still alive that was decorated with gold flakes that were meant to be consumed with the lobster because the gold complemented the flavor.  Despite the overwhelming desire to eat gold, I decided it wasn’t worth a trip to the hospital and stuck with my glacier and scotch.  Then they brought out soju with a blowfish tail.  Blowfish has the potential to be poisonous so they burn the tail in the soju to remove the poison.  Then there was the mushroom tea, that they explained cost 1,000 dollars for one kilo.  It seemed out landish but MR pointed out the fact that other members of the local team were taking pictures, therefore, this had to be a big deal.

Seoul Sunset

two 30 year olds

Glacier

Glacier with Scotch

 

Tuna belly button

Sea Urchin

Lobster and gold flecks

Soju and Blowfish tail - look closely, it's on fire!

Plums - Amazing!

After about a 3 hour dinner that was simply awesome, it was decided that we needed to go sing karaoke.  Sadly, they didn’t have costumes like Tokyo but you still get your own room and a server.  To spice things up we decided to break into teams and bet against each other.  The karaoke machine would monitor your singing and provide you an accuracy score which is what we used to determine winners.  It was me, MR, and JK vs. PS, JW, and EL.  It was one of the funniest experiences ever.  Our Korean members killed it.  They knew how to pick the songs and nailed the delivery.  Poor JK was stuck with the two Americans who were glasses of 30 year old scotch deep.  

After a few warm ups, it was competition time.  Guests and ladies first, which meant me.  I opted for a song that I knew the best, Sisqo’s Thong Song.  Like true team mates MR and JK gathered around me with tambourines as I belted out “babe make you booty go da da da dat”.  My desire to dance while singing left me hyperventilating into the mic about half way through, thankfully, MR and JK stepped in to assist and I ended with a score of 97 (out of 100).  Next was JW, who nailed a Korean song with a 97 percent.  Next was MR who defaulted to JW’s suggestion of Abba, which was hysterical and I wish I had recorded it but my hands were busy with the tambourine.  MR scored us a 95 and PS went next scoring a 95.  So we were one up going into the final round with JS and EL duking it out.  JS killed it with a Korean song as MR and I played tambourines scoring us a 98 and EL went in with a Korean song and scored a 98 too.   Hahaha, go figure, the Americans took it but only because of JK’s execution.

We decided to play a second round and upped the auntie - doubling the amount we put in.  This time MR and I tried to take notes based off of the Korean’s performance, picking well known slower songs.  MR opted for Bruno Mars’ Grenade and I went for Cyndi Lauper’s Girl’s just want to have fun.  But then JW stepped up to the plate and straight killed it, 100!!  Ahhh what!  We still put in a good effort but the other team took the win in the second round.  

It was getting late and we were all tired.  It was then that they told MR and I about one of the best taxi businesses.  You call a company and they bring you a driver.  The driver drives you home in your car.  Then the driver calls his company and they pick him up from your house.  It’s straight genius because it doesn’t cost much more than a taxi.  It seems like a killer business plan until you start considering the safety of a complete stranger picking you up intoxicated and taking you to your home, sounds like a murder waiting to happen.  

We had to wait for the driver to arrive, so we killed time the best way possible.  Group cover of Gangnam Style.  JK sang while PS, EL, and JW covered back up.  I was the designated dancer and MR was the videographer.   Absolutely hysterical and definitely a good memory to add to the book.

After our gorgeous rendition of Gangnam Style, we piled into JW’s car and headed for all our drop offs with our purchased designated driver.  Straight genius.  Gratefully, we were back home by 1230 and to get some much needed sleep!

Bigge

Well, it was an eventful weekend to say the least. 

MR and I survived an office fire, blowfish tail soju, North Korea, and enough kimchi to feed a small village and entirely burn away any stomach lining.

So we’ll start with Friday.  At about 11 MC, went from speaking aggressively in Korean on the phone to a quick hang up and looked at me and said “The third floor is on fire, we need to leave the building”.  I reacted normally by laughing.  But the other consultant got up and opened our roof door on the 5^th floor and smoke billowed in.  What the…. We all got up and walked out towards the stair well.  There is a wall of black smoke against the east facing windows.  So MR and I press our faces against the glass to try and see out, like children watching the first snow fall.  “Burn” we mummer while excited visions of an early work departure dance in our heads as we snap pictures on our phones.  Quickly we are pulled back to reality.  MC – “I think we need to evacuate the building, you should take your purse”.   MR and I giggle excitedly as we gather our personal belongings and laptops, intentionally leaving the power cords to hopefully burn.

All 5 floors evacuated out the front stair well and stand outside along the street.  MR and I excitedly take photos until JW cautiously approaches us and asks us to please stop.  I guess having your Corporate Auditors at the office when it’s burning is less than desirable.  Slowly, the smoke reduces as one of the employees battled the fire using up 5 fire extinguishers.  Then the fire trucks arrived, with the ambulance, and police.  Cutting off the tiny little street and causing more attention to gather around the building.  Quickly the hope of flames shooting through the roof ended and MR and I realize the building is still standing.

In hopes to avert our attention, JW took us to lunch on the North side of Seoul.  By this point the lack of sleep, minimal breakfast, strange foods, and bottles of wine at dinner have finally caught up to me.  Sitting in the tiny little car, going up and down windy little roads, with crazy (insert stereo type here) drivers everywhere, and no fresh air nauseous begins to claim my body.  After about an hour we finally arrive at the restaurant, which looks like a shack constructed in 1970 out of reclaimed pieces.  I excuse myself to the bathroom where my head touches the ceiling.  I gather myself, don’t wash my hands (there was no sink), and head out for my serving of chicken soup. 

The restaurant served only one item tradition Korean style spicy soup.  The soup is cooked out on a wood burning stove in a giant cast iron pot.  Each pot gets it’s own whole chicken which has been loving chopped into chucks (bones included!) and mixed with potatoes and a hot pepper broth.  We sit barefoot Indian style and hack away at our food while the aroma of kimchi permeates our being. Through out lunch, MR and I ask about the office, hoping that it will be closed for the day.  To kill more time, JW takes us to a traditional Korean dessert place and orders on our behalf.  I am beyond feeling like crap and MR is full because he had to eat the majority of my portion of the bony chicken because I threw in my chopsticks early.  Again barefoot and Indian style, we share dessert - red bean pudding.  Red bean is one of my least favorite things and one of MR’s favorite.  My spirit whimpered inside as I grabbed my spoon and take a big scoop.  Despite my disdain for the taste, I try to eat my whole portion because I figure beans are neutral and really can’t hurt my stomach like everything else has. While at dessert, we learn the office is back to normal and we can go back to work.  MR and I fight back tears and the desire to jump in front of the tour bus as we head back to the office.

Stoves

 

 

 

In order to make up for the lost time, we stayed until almost 7 on Friday.  They offered to take us out for the evening but I assured them that I had a very important date with my bed.  MR on the other hand, being the extroverted socialite that he is, had friends in Seoul and made plans with them.  So we walked back to the hotel, finally found an ATM, and went our separate ways for the night.

I immediately set myself in bed and consumed french fries and mushroom soup while watching CSI something reruns.  The introvert inside me beamed for it was the first time all week I had been able to just be.  Although, after a few minutes in my head I realized being alone with your thoughts and french fries in bed on a Friday night is probably a sign of depression.  I thoughtfully pondered the invitation to join MR with my eyes closed and under the covers.  I woke up at 6am, opportunity lost.

MR had the opposite Friday night.  Since he doesn’t have a blog I’ve decide to recap his night for all curious minds.  He left at 10 and returned somewhere around 4.  His night included JJ Bar, Hongdae, Ho bar, taco bell, shots, soju, and midgets with drums.  He can neither confirm nor deny the aforementioned activities but I can assure you he had fun.  

We had a leisurely start on Saturday, leaving the hotel at noon to grab breakfast Japanese style – udon and pork katsu to remind us of the happy days in Tokyo.  Afterwards, we walked around the Coex shopping mall and found a rad shop full of unique items.  MR scored a shirt and I scored a back pack.  After some more wandering, we decided to go to Insadong and see the historical part of Korea.  We spent an hour at an intersection.  I kid, but it was literally the longest light ever.  There we found street vendors and learned that I am a 255 in Korean shoes.  The shoes here are phenomenal and it was no surprise to learn that 255 is considered bigge (yes, it’s pronounced big e) size and is rarely carried.  If towering over people didn’t make me feel large, being told no no 255 too big. no have. 250 is biggest size over and over again really drove the fact home.   

While in Insadong, MR and I made a fascinating discovery, an ice cream cone that has cone with every bite.  It was awesome and worth the 3 dollars, however, you did have to be aware of how you held and consumed said ice cream cone.

We headed back to the hotel at 5 and got ready for our 610 pick up for dinner with the management group.   Upon my arrival back at the hotel, I was greeted with this -

 Nothing like a surprise drop off using information pieced together during casual conversation.  As MR said – like a boss.  I tip my hat to said boss and recommend gentlemen follow suit when interested in a lady – international flower delivery, truly impressive