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Seoul’s got Soul


Koreans are incredibly cute.

The blokes and the girls.

It has been a while since I have been here in Seoul and I kind of forgot how nice the people are.

And cute.

I like the way that the Koreans replace their “l’s” with “R’s” when they speak English – and vice versa.

“Hurro”

“I am velly solly”

It is brilliant.

Chill out Mum.

Relax.

That is not being the slightest bit racist at all.

It’s not.

I like the fact that the South Koreans northern nemesis is a little fatty madman who looks like a telly tubby or a character from a bad James Bond movie. Kim what’s his face – spawned by his father Kim the other what’s his face.

I know I shouldn’t think they are funny as the North Koreans allegedly live in a horrible regime under a ruthless dictator who is nuts.

But I just do.

Think he is funny.

Seoul is a happening city.

It rocks.

It is hip and suave and it has class and style.

Seoul’s got soul.

I am staying where I normally do – at the Grand Hyatt.

The one up on the hill surrounded by gardens.

It is cold.

Bloody cold.

My cute little work colleague NJ Kim – who is no relation to the telly tubby - has sorted me out with a suite with a river view.

I arrived after dark so I can’t actually see the river but I will in the morning.

I was greeted by an entourage at the hotel – all of them cute.

The flight from Tokyo is only a couple of hours and I flew Korean Air - on board a meticulously clean and new big AS380 plane.

I’m not sure why but I was upgraded from Business Class to a suite but I was.

I have never been in a suite before and it is like having your own little room.

Cute little Korean Airline stewardesses besieged me with food and smiles the whole way.

It was a bit too much really.

I just wanted to lay back and read my book but they kept poking their heads in to see if I needed anything or to offer me tidbits of food.

Things I didn’t actually want really.

Tidbits of food or their attention - but I didn’t want to appear rude.

But I smiled gracefully and declined everything with great politeness.

They had upgraded me after all.

As a suite person I was ushered quickly through the priority lane of immigration and customs and straight into the waiting black Series 7 BMW hotel car.

They are always black these hotel limousines.

I don’t know why.

Koreans – like Americans – drive on the wrong side of the road – which is the right side – if you know what I mean.

I always find it disconcerting.

We hurtled along the highway and within an hour I was here.

At the Grand Hyatt,

Yes the one on the hill.

I stayed in the Grand Hyatt in Tokyo as well so it has been a grand week thus far for me.

As is usual after any plane ride I felt a bit restless and in need of caffeine so I meandered my way to the classy bar upstairs and I ordered myself a double shot vanilla latte. I know it will fuck up my sleep but I have a powerful pill I will take to over ride it.

I don’t sleep well at the best of times and worse still in hotel beds.

Blessed be the powerful pill.

I am sure the Grand Hyatt chain would never admit it - however very high-class hookers frequent their bars all around the world.

Chill out again Mum.

Don’t be shocked.

It is what it is.

It is no different here and the Korean hookers at the Grand Hyatt are both cute and gorgeous.

They are incredibly expensive too.

Once again Mum – relax.

Calm down.

I know these things because I have chatted to said hookers before.

They have quoted me their prices.

I have not however tasted their forbidden fruit.

I know you wouldn’t like it and I couldn’t afford it anyway.

So I was sipping on my latte admiring some immaculately dressed and stunningly beautiful ladies of the night when I inadvertently made eye contact with one of them. There was instantaneous recognition by both of us and in a micro-second and but a glance, a transaction was proposed – and denied.

I did so with a smile and a shrug of my shoulders - that was returned with a smile and a fake look of despondency.

It was extremely cute.

In a blink the despondent one came over though and she gave me a “hurro”

I returned it with a “hurro”

Her skin and teeth were pearly white and her every being was exquisite.

She was divine.

The goddess hooker offered her slender hand and told me that her name was Belle.

I shook her hand and told her my name was Peter.

I told her this because my name is Peter.

“Buy me a drink?” she enquired.

This is a classic opening hooker line Mum.

In case you didn't know.

I nodded to my half drunk latte and informed her that I was a non-drinker but I would gladly buy her a coffee.

She shrugged in a manner that I couldn’t really interpret but it was cute.

It was very cute.

I thought I would cut straight to the chase and let her know I was not hanging around – nor would I be partaking of her services.

“I am gay Belle,” I informed her.

“Really Peter?” she replied.

“No not really – not that there is anything wrong with that”I politically correct returned.

“However I am unable and unwilling to take up your offering,” I added.

“My offelling?” she adorably queried.

A gorgeous woman who’s every uttering is a question is difficult to combat.

“Yes your offering Belle”

She shrugged again.

We chatted for a while about mundane things whilst I sipped on my coffee and as I called for the bill – which the Koreans – like the Americans – call the check, Belle once again asked me if I would like to buy her a drink.

“We could take it in your loom” she suggested.

“My loom Belle?”

“Yes your loom?”

I laughed as I shook my head no Mum. Then I once again shook her hand and bid her goodnight.

Then I came down to my room and I took my powerful pill while I wrote this.

I can feel it taking effect.

I have a big day of work tomorrow.


So now to sleep.


This post first appeared on Sleepless In Singapore, please read the originial post: here

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Seoul’s got Soul

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