Regretting Running Rabid Routes

Have been on a few runs around the area I live in, but have yet to find a successful route. By successful route I mean any which doesn’t have a high probability of meeting a potentially rabid animal along the way. The latest course abruptly stopped when it lead me to a dog. Not being a vet, and equipped with only the description of Tim Johnson from ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’ as a account of how a rabid dog may appear and behave, I cannot say with absolute certainty whether or not this dog was diseased. But as I made eye contact with it, I could tell that something was not quite right, and when it started to chase me a metaphorical lump of excrement formulated in my underwear. Luckily I quickly learned that walking opposed to running seemed to produce a similar response in the dog, and so I nervously walked myself to safety.

Despite telling them, I’m not convinced the host family are aware that I have lived away from home and that I can (this is a debateable statement) cook for myself. I received a hilarious explanation on how to cook instant noodles which included the instructions ‘put water in the pan’, and a small discussion on whether they should be boiled for 2 or 3 minutes. Bless.

Went on a day trip to a traditional Korean folk village. I’m not very good at planning day trips, and often go with the dreadful philosophy that ‘no plan is the best plan’. Decided to take the bus, as it is far more exciting than the underground, despite taking double as long (around 2 ½ hours, I wasn’t aware of this prior to journeying). Once I had realised that the excursion may take a fair quantity of time, little attention was paid to the current location until it was thought that we were probably closer. Despite being absolutely convinced that our stop would be the next one, we got thrown off the bus in the middle of a massive university campus because  that was apparently the last stop. Was also busting for the toilet. Walked into a few of the university buildings trying to find a toilet, but I’m sure we very sorely stood out as two foreigners with confused and (toilet) pained looks upon their faces probably would. After the urgent needs had been satisfied,  found a taxi who would be able to chauffeur us to our desired destination. If only we knew the Korean name for it, but alas we didn’t (classic planning). After hazarding a guess at what it might have been called, we just jumped in the taxi anyway despite the hilarious lack of confidence the taxi driver had of where to go. Along the way I was able to point to a sign in both English and Korean of where to go.

Been investing a small amount of time into trying to convince many girls that I look like Daniel Craig. As if a ‘similar haircut’ and a ‘chiselled jaw’ aren’t enough to persuade even the most hardened of sceptics, I feel that the section of the argument where I compare my body to his is particularly strong (despite often adament disagreement). I’m sorry Where’s Wally, you are no longer macho enough to be considered my dopple ganger.