It was a good thing we weren’t hung over from the previous night’s beer.  Somehow the middle-aged Korean man to my left, an empty seat between the two of us, seemed to be sleeping.  To my right my travel companion and fellow ALT Duncan was gripping onto his seat for dear life.  Failing to retain my composure with a death grip on my forehead, I succeeded in, as quietly and cleanly as one can, emptying my stomach into the provided grey bag soon to be sealed with its zip-lock.

On the rough sea between Tsushima, Japan and Busan, Korea the unforgiving waves tossed our little vessel around like the less fortunate toys of a toddler’s bath. Suddenly I regretted eating all of that discounted bread from the bakery earlier that day.  But we were determined to reach our destination.

Despite our best effort to get off the island on the Saturday of the Silver Week holidays, strong winds prevented Duncan and I from leaving on both boat and aircraft. Instead, we spent the night over at new ALT Shane’s, hosted by him and his visiting mum, who joined us for a bit of chat and beer guzzling.

That morning I received a cancellation notice phone call from the Busan jetfoil company a few hours before it was set to depart. Duncan came over so we could sort out a backup plan.

Wanting to waste as little of our precious holidays as possible, a dramatically more expensive trip around Kyushu interested the both of us so we looked up flight and rail pass information; on JR Kyushu a 3-day pass for the northern region costs 7000 yen (~US$75) and one for the whole major island runs 13000 yen (~US$145).  That’s a pretty good deal for the lengths one could travel.

Since the late morning flight to Fukuoka had also been cancelled, the early evening one was suddenly full of transferred passengers, thus our only option was to take the last flight.

Just before the bus up to the airport, we met again to grab a fast food dinner at the only Mos Burger on the island; I enjoyed its lovely vegetable-fry rice burger with a less healthy arrangement of chips (french fries) and onion rings, and my South African companion opted for a more traditional cheeseburger.  As expected, we left smelling like a deep fryer.

At the airport we arrived in good time to pay for our tickets and check in, which on the island only requires a fifteen-minute buffer.  The inbound flight that would provide us our aircraft was delayed due to the strong winds so we joked around in facility’s one departure gate, watching the plane whoosh by as it made a half-hour late landing attempt. Alas, a final announcement came over the speakers revealing that the plane would be returning to Fukuoka, and we went downstairs for a refund.

Laughing at the ridiculousness of the day, we rang up Shane and asked if we might come over with beer in hand.  His mother was visiting at the time, but she’s the kind who is perfectly happy to join in such activities.

The last bus had long gone, so we took an hour stroll over to his neighbourhood and met them at its newly opened small version of a big box store, where we all grabbed a six pack.  His mum was nice enough to bring us some take-away food from the restaurant where they’d just had dinner.

Michiko, who speaks fluent English after raising her son mostly in the States, told us a little about her work on the U.S. military base at Sasebo.  She manages the cafeteria and thus has to deal with American servicemen in a hungry state, though she never complained about them.  Apparently they end up producing a lot of waste through replacing things regardless if it’s necessary, to use the funds so their budget won’t get cut; unfortunately it seems they have trouble donating the leftovers.

The next day we resolved to make a second go at Korea, waited for another call from the jetfoil company, and were happily surprised when it wasn’t cancelled.

I'm not a plastic - Engrish doesn't escape Korea, either.

Northern ALT Kim had to come down from the north to take the boat since it didn’t run the previous day, so we got lunch and headed to the port together.  Without her intervention Duncan and I might have paid double for our jetfoil transport because the attendant kept insisting that the 8000 yen roundtrip deal they were running was for Japanese people only.  He called it in and was wrong.

Immigration took a matter of minutes as we waited behind a guy with a large backpack decked out with an Apple logo and Engrish, of course.

The boat ride is not one I’d soon care to relive, though the return trip was very smooth.  Normally it takes two to three hours from our departure point, but due to the weather it not only was rough enough to cause a significant portion of the passengers to use sick bags, it also took us four hours to arrive in Busan.

We arrived understandably worn out but unharmed at the dock in Busan, had a relatively prompt run through customs, and were on our way.