Progress Report 13.1
Amyongh hasseyo, chaps.
How's it going? That's good to hear. How am I? Very well, thank you. Very well indeed.
Just a brief update this week, as I'm busy preparing to pay a flying visit to United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland later this week. And as flying visits go, this one must be up there with the flyingest. I arrive at Heathrow on Thursday morning, get the train to Durham on Friday, wedding on Saturday, train back to London on Sunday and fly back on Monday. On that schedule, I calculate that I'll just about have time to fit in forty-eight proper British cuppas. Plus, of course, a gross or so of proper British pints.
Gosh, I miss decent beer. I haven't had a passable pint since 2.30pm, Sunday May 29th, when I had a Stella in some hideous departure lounge bar. (Do you think, by the way, that such establishments are required by law to maintain a clientele of at least fifty scratter scumbags for twenty-four hours a day?) Korean beer, whilst being vaguely potable at a pinch, just doesn't scratch your back like a European brew can. In its two most common incarnations, it calls itself either Hite or Cass. Two names are perhaps superfluous, as both beers are equally flaccid. Weighing in at 4% abv, they're both safe to give to babies, but you have to drink a Bradford gutfull before you get anywhere near steaming. Once you've got there, you really have to make the most of it, as such imbibing secures you a hangover like a nuclear winter. I suspect this is because the miracle of industrial chemistry plays a leading role in the brewing process. If it can be done with chemicals, think the Koreans, then why bother Nature?
So pouring back a icy cold pint of something continental will be a special pleasure indeed. ('Special' is my current word of the moment, by the way. It has been scratched into my brain by one of my students - a high school principal - who uses it at least once in every sentence he speaks in English, and seeing as he can't or won't shut up in class, I hear it in triple figures three times a week. It is a very special thing. It makes lessons a special time.) Hopefully some of you shall be able to watch this special pleasure as it happens on Thursday evening, as I mentioned in 12.3. You shall then be able to partake in some dried squid, which I have bought in bulk this morning, just for you. You'll love it, honest - it's fishy and delicious.
I'm also very much looking forward to getting my hair cut. It's not that I'm precious about it, but I'd sooner lick a dog's bottom than let a Korean near me with scissors. I'm sure there are some very well-trained hairdressers in this country, and I'm sure they're professional and skilled and creative, but I'm also pretty sure, based on strong first-hand visual evidence, that none of them ply their trade in Beomgye. Well they're not having me, damn it. Not this time. Not like this.
So there it is. Come Thursday, I'll be all trimmed and freshened and drunk. And the trip will serve as an excellent gauge of my affection for this gosh-forsaken country. Expect an expansive and reflective report next time.
If I'm seeing you on Thursday, I'll see you on Thursday. If not, er, have a special week.
That is all.
Amyongh kasseyo,
S
PS I am now able to reveal that the name of the TV programme that had me stumped is 'Highway to Heaven', starring The Little House on the Prairie's Michael Landon. I actually found this out through my own extensive research and without the help of any of you. Saying that though, Christopher 'Ginger is a Way of Life' Laity came through with the correct answer, but a week too late. I suppose he deserves some sort of recognition: Respec', Chris.
How's it going? That's good to hear. How am I? Very well, thank you. Very well indeed.
Just a brief update this week, as I'm busy preparing to pay a flying visit to United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland later this week. And as flying visits go, this one must be up there with the flyingest. I arrive at Heathrow on Thursday morning, get the train to Durham on Friday, wedding on Saturday, train back to London on Sunday and fly back on Monday. On that schedule, I calculate that I'll just about have time to fit in forty-eight proper British cuppas. Plus, of course, a gross or so of proper British pints.
Gosh, I miss decent beer. I haven't had a passable pint since 2.30pm, Sunday May 29th, when I had a Stella in some hideous departure lounge bar. (Do you think, by the way, that such establishments are required by law to maintain a clientele of at least fifty scratter scumbags for twenty-four hours a day?) Korean beer, whilst being vaguely potable at a pinch, just doesn't scratch your back like a European brew can. In its two most common incarnations, it calls itself either Hite or Cass. Two names are perhaps superfluous, as both beers are equally flaccid. Weighing in at 4% abv, they're both safe to give to babies, but you have to drink a Bradford gutfull before you get anywhere near steaming. Once you've got there, you really have to make the most of it, as such imbibing secures you a hangover like a nuclear winter. I suspect this is because the miracle of industrial chemistry plays a leading role in the brewing process. If it can be done with chemicals, think the Koreans, then why bother Nature?
So pouring back a icy cold pint of something continental will be a special pleasure indeed. ('Special' is my current word of the moment, by the way. It has been scratched into my brain by one of my students - a high school principal - who uses it at least once in every sentence he speaks in English, and seeing as he can't or won't shut up in class, I hear it in triple figures three times a week. It is a very special thing. It makes lessons a special time.) Hopefully some of you shall be able to watch this special pleasure as it happens on Thursday evening, as I mentioned in 12.3. You shall then be able to partake in some dried squid, which I have bought in bulk this morning, just for you. You'll love it, honest - it's fishy and delicious.
I'm also very much looking forward to getting my hair cut. It's not that I'm precious about it, but I'd sooner lick a dog's bottom than let a Korean near me with scissors. I'm sure there are some very well-trained hairdressers in this country, and I'm sure they're professional and skilled and creative, but I'm also pretty sure, based on strong first-hand visual evidence, that none of them ply their trade in Beomgye. Well they're not having me, damn it. Not this time. Not like this.
So there it is. Come Thursday, I'll be all trimmed and freshened and drunk. And the trip will serve as an excellent gauge of my affection for this gosh-forsaken country. Expect an expansive and reflective report next time.
If I'm seeing you on Thursday, I'll see you on Thursday. If not, er, have a special week.
That is all.
Amyongh kasseyo,
S
PS I am now able to reveal that the name of the TV programme that had me stumped is 'Highway to Heaven', starring The Little House on the Prairie's Michael Landon. I actually found this out through my own extensive research and without the help of any of you. Saying that though, Christopher 'Ginger is a Way of Life' Laity came through with the correct answer, but a week too late. I suppose he deserves some sort of recognition: Respec', Chris.
posted by Stephen Beckett at 11:08 AM
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