Fukuoka Bound - exerpt from the novel - El Nido


The ferry made its way out of a bustling Busan Bay on that bright Monday morning. As they passed through the heads, the waves had already begun to get bigger. Nev raised his eye brows to see if Yuki was bothered.

“You would expect the waves to get bigger as we go, wouldn’t you?” she said.

Yuki whispered that most of the Korean tourists were off on a once in a lifetime trip. They watched as many of them ate, drank and laughed voraciously. They were devouring pork filled buns, bundles of sticky rice and biscuits while drinking copious amounts of wicked Korean soju.

The Japanese staff were polite and friendly in their own detached way. Once all the tickets had been checked, they sat fully upright in the staff chairs, gazing past the faces of the passengers, towards the bow, with soft eyes.

The only way to travel

With all extreme sports the attraction is an apparent danger to the extremist that may involve speed, height and physical exertion. Korea is full of options to do just that, bungee jumps, white water rafting, climbing….
Riding the bus in Korea is not dissimilar, novices without a seat can be flung violently around unless having a firm grip of something secure. Looking ahead toward the road that is yet to come, having the more vulgar driver unyielding in their speed with their seat fitted with suspensions, cushioning every blow that the 10 tonne bus takes down the straight, worn roads.
Unnerving in the amount of passengers the driver carries, they drive as if a bomb were attached to the bottom of the bus, tempting the driver to go under a set speed limit for it to blow.

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