Day One

Two international flights and one domestic transfer- a total of 30hrs- and I am finally here. Turns out that Friday is national holiday so I've been left alone in my apartment for the first three days. All the better to bore you shitless with the finer details of my trip my dear...

Firstly , it would be nothing short of an injustice if I didn't mention what a fantastic airline Emirates is. Seriously, you get about five hundred touch-sceen options including live camera angles of outside the plane and the food is about as good a I think it's ever going to be out of a tin-foil triangle. The staff act as though back home, their enire family and/or vintage Guitar collection has been wired with C4 and a minuscule reduction in their perma-grin will remotely set of the detonator.

The domestic connection combined the seating comfort of the Belsen shuttle with the Audio/Visual delight of Jeremy Beadle's SkyPlus box. It was also where I first discovered the Korean national dish 'Kimchi'- a fermented spicy Cabbage that has a strange property whereby upon consumption it requires almost immediate anal discharge. They eat it with everything over here apparently.

I am already a few steps further down my path of personal enlightenment. In the past couple of days I have learnt:

1. When at Dubai airport, never ask an African man wearing a Chelsea shirt if he knows the Champions League results. 'Chelsea' seems to be very close to the Ugandan for 'I'd like your entire family to stand around me in a circle shouting', while 'I'm sorry' is passable Angolan for 'Yes, i'd like to buy your camera/ please continue to rub my shoulder'.
2. When queuing for immigration, never stand behind an Arabic man. In addition to the fact that they are regarded with a similar suspicion over here as in 'ol Blighty it is also traditional for them to keep each important immigration document at the bottom of a separate case of tat and to answer each question from an official by pointing at their friend (who is holding up the next queue along) and doing the 'Asda price' pocket-tap.
3. Koreans are very, very polite. The man who collected me from the airport (calls me 'brian') insisted on his fragile looking nine year old daughter carrying all of my luggage five flights of stairs to my apartment while he smiled at me as if we had just shared four hours of considerate love-making.

Anyway, i'm about to go out on my on for the first time to orientate myself/buy beer and food. Report to follow. Bloggy D.