The Hurrieder I Go

 

World Adventurer (July 18, 2003 Chautauqua)

“The road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began…”

J. R. R. Tolkien

   My journey from Korea to Russia began on Monday, April 21^st. I had dinner with my Wonderland friends the previous night, and they gave me a lovely parting gift of the one essential item I had not purchased for my trip: a roll of toilet paper.

   I took the train from Daegu to Seoul, and stayed overnight at the backpacker’s hostel.  The next morning I was at the Polish Embassy spot on 10:00 AM to apply for my visa. It didn’t take long at all, and I was hoping that the rest of the trip would go as well. Best laid plans…

   I did have a train ticket to Pusan, but it was from Daegu, and it left at 12:14 PM. I figured I would probably miss it. I went to Gimpo Airport, with the intention of flying to my destination, and picking up the rest of my trip from there on in.

   I just missed the 12:00 plane, and had to settle for the 1:00. That got me into Pusan just before 2:00, but the damage was done. I made my way as quick as I could from Kimhae Airport to the ferry terminal, where I just missed the 3:00 ferry to Japan. I was really looking forward to the trip too. This particular ferry was a hydrofoil called “The Beetle.” I was going to change the name for this trip. As a fan of the Fab Four, I was going to call it “The Beatle.” Sigh.

   I should point out at this point that all of the travel personnel I talked to were very understanding and helpful. The problems I experienced were my own fault. I over-planned a wee bit too much, and it caught up with me. Ticket agents and clerks at various tourist information booths got me out of most of my jams, and my hat is off to them.

   I was able to secure passage on the 5:00 ferry to Japan. I had taken this one, called "The Camellia,” once before. It leaves the dock at 6:00, sails across to Japan and waits outside the harbour before docking in the morning. I was traveling third class, which meant that I did not have a cabin, but shared a space on the floor with a lot of other Koreans.

             The ferry dock in Pusan Harbour. The "Camellia" is at the top right.

   There is not much to do in the way of entertainment besides sitting on the deck, watching the Sea of Japan go by, and drinking beer. (Yeah, I called it "the Sea of Japan." I know Koreans'll go crazy, but that is the term I grew up with.) I was amused to see a group of men, who were playing “Go-Stop,” accosted by one of the stewards. I didn’t understand their Korean, but it seemed like the steward was asking them, “You’re not betting, are you?”

   They replied in the negative (as each of the players stuffed various bills that had been littering the tabletop into their pants).

                                                       The ferry terminal in Fukuoka.

   We debarked in Fukuoka, Japan at 8:00 on the morning of the 23^rd. It was at this point that I experienced the only serious security screening I was given during this trip. When I told the Japanese customs agent that I was only transiting Japan on my way to Russia, she gave me the “hairy eyeball,” and made me open up all my things.

   I now had to make that ferry before its scheduled sailing time of 6:00 PM. My Russian travel agent had informed me (via e-mail) that I would be met by someone from the ferry at the train station in the port at 1:00 PM. I had no contact number for the ferry, and I decided I didn’t have the time to try and get in touch with anybody else. I went ahead and caught the train, which left Fukuoka at 9:05, and got to Osaka at 10:35. I changed trains and left Osaka at 10:49.

                                                 Japanese countryside from the bullet train.

   Everything you have heard about Japanese trains is true. They are fast! The day was very gray and rainy. We zipped through the beautiful, but wet, Japanese countryside, passing lakes, mountains, and bustling cities. We finally arrived in Takaoka at 3:45. The port was an outlying suburb of this city. I figured I had about two hours to catch the ferry, and would only have to apologize for making the guy wait for 3 hours.

   The local train to the port (called Fushiki) left at 4:16, and it was full of Japanese students making their way home. My luck ran true to form, and I missed my stop. I had to go all the way to the end of the line, before going all the way back. It was now about 5:00. I could see the ferry from the train station, but there was a fair-sized railway yard in between, and it was still raining pretty good. The station-master was good enough to call me a cab, which drove me around the corner and down the street to the entrance to the pier.

                                                  The Russian ferry "Mikhail Sholokhov."

   I made a mad dash down the pier, up the gangway, and onto the boat, just in the nick of time, I thought.

   Wrong! The trip’s pattern was holding true. I had missed the ferry, which had departed about 3:00 PM. I was aboard her sister ship, the “Mikhail Sholokhov,” which wasn’t scheduled to leave for another two days. The man who had been waiting for me looked just like the cliché Russian as he eyed me suspiciously. Who could blame him, I thought. After a little palaver with the desk clerks, and a phone call, I was told that I would be allowed to take passage on this ship.

   I did a little exploring of Fushiki (staying close to the boat, just in case). Is there anything more melancholy than a seaport in the rain? There was not much to do, and I think it was a holiday or something, as half the shops were closed. The wet weather held until we were out to sea on the 25^th.

   On that day, the ferry moved from one dock to another, which was a customs area. There was a fenced in lot, where most of the passengers (big, burly men) spent the morning and afternoon buying up cars tires, appliances, office equipment, and electronics.

All these cars had to fit onto the boat somehow. BTW, Japanese don't drive on the right side of the road, so all these cars (to be sold in Russia) are right-hand drive. Almost all of the cars I saw in Vladivostok were right-hand drive, but the Russians do drive on the right-hand side.

   There was a crane that lifted up the cars onto any available deck space. It’s a good thing the weather was foul, ‘cause sunbathers would be out of luck looking for a place to lay. The only place to get out and get some fresh air and exercise was the boat deck.

Loading the cars onto the ship. Most were driven into the hold, but some had to be put on the deck.

 

This gives an idea of how crowded the deck was. There was some space where the lifeboats were, but not anywhere else. This was before "Titanic" came out, so I didn't go up to the bow and scream that I was King of the World. Well, not for that reason, anyway.

    There was not much to do on the boat, if you weren’t a Russian. The TV was in Russian, the entertainment was Russian, and the vodka was Russian. Mmmmmmmmmmmdrool.

  We finally got under way at 9:30 that night. There was a strong wind once we got moving, and the boat was soon crashing its way through waves into the Sea of Japan. (yeah, I did say it again!)

   My cabin was right on the water line, so I had a pretty good seat for the show.

                                                The view from the porthole in my cabin.

   The next day, it was announced that the ship was making 13.5 knots, and the wind was a “Force 4.” The weather started to clear, but there were still very few people going outside. The food in the dining room was pretty good. Breakfast would be a choice between “kasha” or “eggs and…” Lunch and dinner usually started with soup, followed by a hot course. The meals were served by what I soon found out was the usual sort of staff in any Russian restaurant I patronized: tall, good-looking young women.

   And so I whiled away the hours, playing solitaire, reading, and enjoying the…view, as the ship brought me closer and closer to Russia.