Guryong is a little detached from the city. We found a nice little place to stay and left to see the sea in the morning. On our way we walk along the Modern Culture History Path, a street of half a kilometer that was fashioned to resemble somewhere in Japan. It really does. The houses and the pavement, the stores and the decorations, it's a neat street to take a walk through.
From the top of the hill we enjoy a sweet view over the neighbourhood, part of the port and the ocean. We decided to check out the docks before taking the bus back. It's still early, but the snack booths are already operating. We get a dozen Patt-cookies and some unreasonably overprized paper cup coffee. Munching and sipping we're wandering along the concrete dune.
The ocean. Astonishing every time I see it. On the other side there's Japan, in between unimaginable horror. Sea creatures freak me out. I don't know what it is, but other than fish, no, actually fish gets to me sometimes. I love the sea, staring and swimming, but to think about the undiscovered life, the oceanic wilderness is plain and simple tough to comprehend.
But that's another issue. That's not what we talk about, sitting on a huge stone thing that reminds me of the molecular formation from my chemistry classes a long time ago. Well, I liked drawing them. I never understood them really. Any of them. Looking back, I'm really surprised that I made it through high school. It was a bumpy ride, but still, somehow I graduated.
The 200 takes us back to the city, back to the market where we're picking up a few things. Craving coffee and some bakery we take another stroll through the streets. Whenever we can't decide which way to go we play rock-paper-scissors. This and this, plus two americano to go, please. Packed with snack for the ride we arrive at the bus terminal. Seat no. 13 and 14. We're headed back home.
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