Lunar New Year

As stated in a previous rambling, I went to Incheon, site of the largest Chinatown in Seoul (or South Korea).
Not all that.
I am NOT knocking it, as there were some cool things to see in the area.
It's just this city shut down for the weekend.
A comparison:
How many of you have been to the State of Minnesota for the first weekend of fishing?
How are the roads?
Is there anything else to do in The Twin Cities (or Albert Lea, for that matter)?
NO.
Everyone is on the road, going to their favorite fishing hole and if you aren't part of it, you are nothing. Seoul is no different, the expressways are a parking lot.
Welcome to Seoul and Incheon for Seolnal (Seoulnal, Sul-Nal--different spellings for everybody, kind of like Qaddaffi)!!!!!
We started off early, or as early as we could, 10:15, and headed to Wangsamni for a McDonald's breakfast. You cannot start a trip off without an Egg McMuffin.
They don't have Egg McMuffins, the have a BACON version, still good, but I want the real thing.
After we finish our breakfast we head to the subway, which the connection we needed was in this neighborhood and it made the easy choice for MickeyD's Rainbow Room.
After waiting for what seemed days, we were on our way, to the largest train station in the city.
People left, people right, little girls and boys in the best Seoulal dress, and two Americans, looking for something to do.
We make it out of the station, after trying to find the express to Incheon, which never happened.
So.
After about an hour and a connection, we hit Incheon, landing as Macarthur and his boys did in 1950. Although, we weren't celebrated, there wasn't any resistance, nor will there be a statue of us erected any time soon.
You could have fired a rifle (to coin a phrase) in any direction and you would have been safe from attempted murder charges.
We expected a parade, not for us, but to celebrate Seolall.
We wanted dragons, firecrackers, little spinning things, lanterns, smoke, screaming, cheering, and all of the stuff accompanying said celebration.
We even checked message boards to confirm our desires.
Problem.
Someone forgot to tell them we were coming and everybody took off for their favorite fishing hole.
Not to say there wasn't anyone else there, just not what we wanted.
So.
We take off walking towards a park where Macarthur's statue is supposed to be, finding the entrance to be 100,489 steps.
Good thing I am out-of-shape.
So after fighting off The Abominable Snowman halfway up the crest of the steps, we find one of the things on the to-do-list.
A nice little park, "Freedom Park", if you will.
There's some nice sculptures, a monument to the South Korea/U.S.A love affair, Macarthur standing in all his glory, and a chicken coop.
Pictures of all of this will follow. Possibly.
Walking around, pounding our chests and chanting "U-S-A, U-S-A, U-SA!!!", we get to the second (or third) best general of the United State's Army's statue.
It's pretty cool and there's another plaque stating the greatest of the former Lieutenant Macarthur.
OK
We have seen it and we have been here 30 minutes.
Now what?
OH, what we haven't seen.
We walk down the steps to see what else there was to view and find the smog in Incheon (on a day when ALL factories are shut down) worse than Seoul's. We could see most of the man-made harbor and the industries surrounding, but it made our eyes burn.
But it wasn't the smog making them water.
After finding a group of old men playing a game similar to Othello (AND who wouldn't allow us to take their picture--again, pics to follow)we come across a monstrosity.
The Chicken Coop.
Only this wasn't your ordinary chicken coop, it was a kind of bird sanctuary.
Kind of.
I say this, because there were some rabbits, a couple of deer, and other small varmints running around.
There were some turkeys (THERE YA GO BERNIE, turkeys, other than the ex-pats), some peacocks (hehe), some chickens, a couple of roosters (they go nuthin' on Kauai), and little birds flying in and out of the screen at the top, mocking all of the critters who couldn't get out.
I call it a chicken coop, because of the smell.
It was FOWL.
Now.
I wasn't around when my Uncle Jim's coop was up and running, but I have been around a couple and the stench is enough to curl your nose hairs and kill you, if you are allergic to poultry.
After scratching our itchy eyes and picking our jaws off the ground, we move on, battle-tested and weary of our mistake to come down the Macarthur's Landing Area.
The place looked like the neighborhoods of Seoul (go figure) and the allure was starting to wear, especially since the 'Egg' McMuffins were digested and our stomaches were screaming for some sustenance.
Guess what we found?
Go ahead, GUESS.
NO, not a MickeyD's.
A Chinese restaurant, in CHINATOWN, of all places.
We talked to a foreigner, I say this, because we are ALL foreigners, who had his lunch on his chin (we couldn't bring ourselves to stop staring or tell him about it) and he sent us to the busiest place on the street.
I had the Juju Mein, noodles, noodles, black sauce, and a TON of white onions (wanna kiss, Debby?).
Griff, my cohort, had the hot (spicy hot, well, and temperature hot) pork noodles.
Both were good.
We struck up a conversation with an adjuma (yes, they do talk) and she told us she lived in Albany, New York for a while.
After we told her we were sorry she had to live there, she tried to pawn her granddaughter off on Griff.
He politely declined.
So.
Now we're off to find something to keep our attention for the next day.
Didn't happen.
Stores are closed, no entertainment, no parades, and we really didn't want to buy any of the crapcrapandmorecrap, they were trying to force down our throats.
Walking, we're walking, we're walking.
It's time to ditch this little hullabaloo.
The train station is in our sight and we make it there, through the rush of nobody and the sound of silence.
We decide on Bupyong, rumor has it, there are some 'Western Bars' in the area.
'Goose Goose' is allegedly one of them.
We attempt to find it.
We walk, in the wrong direction, my fault, and decide to walk back.
Bennigan's is found and we figure if there is one around, other western type stuff is probably to be had.
We find a pretty cool shopping/HOF/boutique area and we are sure 'Goose Goose' is there.
Turning corners, being eyed by little Korean prostitutes (no confirmation, but they wore more makeup than Tammy Faye), and no luck finding 'Goose Goose', Griff decides to go into a couple of stores asking where it was.
After being chased out of three of them, I guess 'Goose Goose' doesn't translate well, we come across a western style bar, aptly named, "Western Ice Bar".
SCHWEEEEEET!
I need a beer or three.
We found heaven.
All of the beers you could ask for, except Newcastle.
They had an empty bottle of it, so we assumed they had it.
I asked and was informed they didn't carry it, which was not cool, so we ordered another beer.
While we were deciding, I got up, walked around the bar, took the Newcastle bottle off the shelf and through it against a mirror.
"If you don't carry a beer, TAKE THE BOTTLE OFF THE SHELF!!!!"
And I walk back around to sit down.
Griff and I thought we should take the 'World Beer Tour'.
We started n North Korea, Taedonggang.
I guess Lil' Kim Jung Il purchased an old German brewery's equipment and brought it to NoKo to make his own.
That's about the only good thing the little guy has done.
It was good and if I come across it again, I will drink it.
SO.
We go to Belgium (those monks make a fine brew), France (They surrendered, again), Germany (they surrendered, again), The Philippines ( I shall return, staying with the theme of the day), and other countries (it didn't matter after the first group of beers where we went).
We befriend one of the bartenders and get a hook-up on some food.
He studied at Cambridge (electrical engineering), he had a British accent to boot and was studying at some other university in Bupyong.
Now.
It's time to figure out what we are to do for the night.
The subway will close soon and we aren't sure if we want to stay in Bupyong for the night.
We decide to leave and call Richie (as the Koreans like to call him) and find out what he is doing.
We are to go to Sinchon and to another bar we like.
After the debacle of the ride, Griff speaking French to me and me speaking Spanish to him, we make it.
We have made it, alive (barely) out of Incheon.
Sinchon is another deal.
As some of you know, when Axton hits a wall, he leaves.
Without telling anyone.
Good byes suck when you can't see past the end of your nose.
After 4 or 5 pitchers of beer, I decide it's time.
I can't even speak English correctly, at this point of the night, let alone tell the cabbie where I need to go.
I find one who's willing to go across town and fall into his cab.
Do I make it home?
I'm pretty sure I did, I think.
And it ain't because of all of the hops, barley, and carbonation.
It's because Seoul turns into a racetrack after midnight, when the cabbies take control of the road.
I am loosey goose-goosey and am being tossed around the backseat of the cab, all the while, hoping the glasses I yanked from the bar don't break in my backpack.
Finally, I recognize something near my home and direct Mario Andretti to wind his way thought the back alleys and narrow turns to my street.
I make it, with only 1/8 of a kilometer to walk or stumble or crawl.
NEVER have I been so happy to find my little home away from home, as my girlfriend can attest.
I talked to her, I think, and passed out in my bed shortly thereafter.
So.
I have conquered Sollal, Bupyong, Sinchon, and Incheon and have learned our plans to exit South Korea for Chusak (The Korean Thanksgiving) is a pretty good idea.
If this city was empty for this holiday, imagine what it will be like when everybody doesn't leave their homes for 4 days?
We are going to Cambodia.
Maybe we'll find another Western Ice Bar.