After a week that went by far too slowly, Kris and I are on a bus, on our way to Gyeongju, a small region in the southern part of South Korea. We are travelling to witness the cherry blossom festival for which the region is well-known. We have seen a few cherry blossoms around Dongtan – the odd tree blooming in a square here, a row of impossibly puffy trees lining the road there. What we are on our way to see is, apparently, on a totally different level, and we are immensely excited to finally be exploring the country after a few weeks of getting acquainted with the country.
What lies between us and apparently an immense amount of cherry blossoms is about 3 more hours on a bus filled with people from all over the world – Portugal, Estonia, America, and of course the token Canadians. The first person I talked to from the tour? South African. We talked briefly about Korea in general, South African quirks, and rusks while waiting for the tour bus to arrive.
So now, here we sit, the road gently rolling underneath us, listening to some classic rock, growing a weird combination of tired from our draining days, excited for the prospects ahead, and genuinely afraid that the blossoms may already have fallen from the trees down south. Above all of this, we are happy to be somewhere other than a small classroom, and eager to get to our destination and the magical experiences therein!