South Korea Day 14: Going Home

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Well, I better get a wriggle on with this, seeing as I'm already home and struggling from post-holiday discombobulation.
 
We had a late flight out of Seoul so there was time for one last little bit of exploring.  We caught the train out to Dongdaemun History and Culture Park, discovering all these interesting galleries and museums that we no longer had to time to appreciate. We walked around and appreciated the futuristic architecture instead.
 



And one of us went for a ride on a chair.

The airport bus took us all the way out to the airport lickety split, no trouble at all, and I even got a peek at the canal that South Korea had to build because Seoul lost its access to the sea when the border with North Korea got drawn right down the middle of the Han River estuary.

Incheon Airport is on an island, reached by impressive bridges.  The tide was out.     

Incheon Airport was suitably shiny, with impressive orchids

and shiny travelators,

and, in keeping with the Dongdaemun theme, impressive futuristic architecture.

We booked a capsule hotel for the 4 hours before check in, to allow Roger to rest his back.  Not because we wanted to check out a capsule hotel at all, of course not.  Turns out if you've stayed in dongas in western Queensland a capsule hotel isn't that different.  Except cleaner, and newer, and not as hot.

Encapsulated.

And then we caught a plane.

Going where we're told, looking for a plane.

And flew to Australia.


With occasional circles, just for fun.


Our plane was new enough to allow the crew to control the opacity of the windows, a privilege which they abused by keeping us all in the dark until barely an hour out of Sydney and cheating a disgruntled me of the chance to see the sun rise and to inspect western Qld and NSW from on high.

I was very happy when the windows were 'opened'.

Sydney.

I'll spare you the details of landing, the air bridge not working, catching a bus for a tour of the tarmac...



...the sun going away and rain splattering on the concrete...


...while our plane got delayed, and delayed, and delayed...   And we looked at our luggage sitting on a luggage trolley in the rain beside our delayed plane, and thought about how our bags weren't waterproof.
 
I'll spare you the details of my aisle seat on the flight to Adelaide, while the lucky chook with the window seat wasted all her viewing opportunities by playing games on her phone the whole way there.  You wouldn't want to hear the details of how our pilot (or his work experience student) zoomed into Adelaide airport way up high and then slammed us down half way along the runway while Roger held his breath in anticipation of an unexpected swim in the waters of West Beach. 

We caught a bus, checked into a hotel, opened our soggy bags and festooned our hotel room with wet clothing because water gets into bags through the zips when they're left out in the rain for hours at an airport.

Home for the night: prior to the festooning.

It's good to be home.



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