The Magic Of Lotteria

Pointing at the dishes that other customers are eating or drawing animals on napkins are viable ways to order food in countries where no one speaks a common language with me, but on occasion a relaxing fast food outlet where I can read the menu and know what I am ordering is all I need. In China, Dico's always provided a welcoming spot to grab a quick bite. The South Korean equivalent of China's homegrown answer to McDonald's is Lotteria.

The menu offers Western favourites that are localized as well as some uniquely Korean additions like the crushed ice flake dessert known as patbingsoo. Some of the more interesting items to be found at Lotteria are a burger with a patty made of fried cheese and a meal designed exclusively for calorie conscious ladies. Staff members appear noticeably nervous whenever I approach the counter to order.

Enjoyed by millions of customers for over three sumptuous decades, Lotteria is owned by the Japan based but Korean owned firm Lotte. The conglomerate has its hands in everything from supermarkets to amusement parks. The name Lotteria is a deliriously clever combination of Lotte and cafeteria. Although the first outlet opened in Japan, Lotteria was the brainchild of a South Korean man and is much more popular in the Land of the Morning Calm than it is in the the Land of the Rising Sun. Lotteria's market share in South Korea hovers around 50% in the fast food segment so I never have to wander far before finding an outlet.

 *****

"The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can ever end" - quote plastered on Lotteria wall

Conversations With K-girls: Nothing Doing

It is very hard to talk to Korean bombshells. Although I am a distinguished conversationalist, I find it difficult to engage K-girls in dialogue. Most of the time it is because their breathtaking beauty has rendered me speechless. Many times it is because their nondescript boyfriend is standing right beside them. Other times it is because they cannot or will not speak to me in English. Sometimes it is because we literally have nothing to say to each other.

Me: What do you do?
K-girl: Nothing.
Me: Absolutely nothing?
K-girl: I stay at home.
Me: What do you do there?
K-girl: Nothing.

Show Run

During the run up to the Formula One Korean Grand Prix, Red Bull presented a show run in Seoul for all those disinclined to make the trek down to Yeongam. I had seen the Red Bull Racing team capture their first chequered flag in Shanghai and then passed by their serene mountain headquarters nestled in the Swiss Alps. Now I would watch the Red Bull race car complete a couple of lightning fast laps of Banpo Bridge, the same location where the spectacular rainbow fountain show is held every night. 

As the holder of both the driver's and constructor's championship titles two years running, the Austrian team has been the dominant force on the Formula One circuit in recent times. Red Bull does not have the storied history or loyal fan base of a team like Ferrari, but the success on the track combined with their marketing savvy off of it has given them solid name recognition. A lot of youth disinterested in the sport but interested in appearing cool were present at the show run. 

Apart from the Red Bull cars and girls, there were a few oddities to attract attention (and I am not referring to myself). On a platform beside the bridge were a large group of taekwondo students filming their own version of the viral hit Gangnam Style. On the other side, a remote controlled flying robot was circling overhead taking video footage of the crowd. It was my first time to see an unmanned aerial vehicle in such close proximity.

*****

"If you’re in control, you’re not going fast enough." – Parnelli Jones

Formula 1: 2012 Korean Grand Prix

I slept in on Sunday morning in Mokpo, until only a few bodies were scattered around the previously packed floor of the jimjilbang. After a quick rinse, I left the bathhouse and made my way to a large man made waterfall on one edge of town. At a nearby bus stop I asked a beauty if the bus would go to the terminal. She looked at me, her double eyelids fluttering in fear, and emitted no sound. The bus driver was more friendly, nodding that the bus went to my destination. I ate some pork fat soup at a family run restaurant near the bus terminal. The old lady who ran the place brought me some extra fruit to eat and showed me how to peel them.

Conventional logic would have dictated the Korean stop on the Formula One schedule be located somewhere near Seoul or Incheon, perhaps somewhere like futuristic Songdo. In actuality the Korean International Circuit is located five hours to the south in Yeongam, on the opposite end of the peninsula. This is part of a government plan to promote tourism and boost the economy in this region, and it has poured a lot of money into the effort.

The bus ride from Mokpo to Yeongam was uneventful, as was the race after the first few laps. In Shanghai it rained the whole race, so there were a lot of slips, slides, and spins. The weather was cloudy but clear for the Korean Grand Prix. The track is the longest in Asia and second longest in the world after Italy's Monza. As the visibility was very good I could see a lot of the track from the grandstand, but there were no racing incidents or overtaking manoeuvres in my area.

I wagered that the action on the racetrack would be able to hold the attention of the K-girls in attendance for the first 10 laps of the 55 lap race before they reverted to playing with their handphones, but I was wrong. It took only 7 laps.  For the second time in as many Formula One races as I have been to, Sebastien Vettel emerged victorious. After the race there was a special concert by Gangnam Style sensation Psy, a last minute addition to draw in more spectators to the event.

*****

"Auto racing began 5 minutes after the second car was built." – Henry Ford

One Night At The Korean Bathhouse

After the conclusion of the Mokpo Dancing Ocean Fountain show, I had some gimbap (Korean sushi) for dinner and then caught a movie at the theater, emerging outside again after midnight. I asked a Mokpo maiden for the nearest jimjilbang (Korean bathhouse) and she recoiled in horror. A helpful guy then told me where to go. The jimjilbang is a multipurpose facility, with a computer lab, exercise equipment, a canteen, and television area all available in addition to the saunas and massage rooms where I did not venture. When checking into one of these spas, the cashier hands over a baggy, and usually mustard coloured, set of shorts and shirt. These spas also have a communal sleeping area where people can sleep on the heated floor using hard wooden blocks as their pillows.

Photos: Tistory.com

In the changing room I saw more naked Korean men in one moment than naked Korean women I have seen in a lifetime. I placed my personal belongings in a locker, quickly took a shower, and headed to the co-ed sleeping area upstairs. Sleeping on the floor is a Korean tradition. It is highly uncomfortable for those not used to the practice. I continuously struggled to find a decent sleeping postion, squirming around like a severed tentacle of a recently living octopus. Many loud snores could be heard, drowning out the sound of the television that was on throughout the night. Jimjilbangs are the most cost effective way to catch some shut eye indoors in Korea. When I am not in the mood to look for a 24 hour McDonald's, Internet cafe, or ATM, there is no place like a jimjilbang to rest my weary soul when traveling solo.

*****

“What hath night to do with sleep?” ― John Milton, Paradise Lost