Arriving Daedong, South Korea

Despite having drank a reasonable amount the night before at the insistence of the Korean blueberry farmers, I was out of my bunk at about 7.30am the next day, woken by the sound of the ship’s usually unintelligible PA system.  Breakfast was quick and bland. Still, you’re never too sure when you’ll get your next meal, so I made sure to fill up.

Next up was to brave the sauna / shower room. Mercifully quiet and the hot water held out until just before I had finished.

Daedong Port

Thoughts then turned to our port call at Daedong, not too far from the border with the North. Daedong was a smallish and scrufy industrial city with not particularly much of anything going on. The highlight in and out of the port was seeing the numerous military vessels moored at the navy base.

Drying chill peppers

I had about 4 hours to wander around Daedong – I didn't see much. I sat on a wooden picnic bench outside a convenience store and managed to get limited wifi access. A little more walking to an uncomfortably warm coffee shop with insects climbing the inside of the window. The only other point of interest were a couple of elderly ladies sun drying their crop of red chili peppers beside the road.

A casual 20 minutes walk back to the ferry made me realize just how much different the ferry journey would be on the second day. The blueberry farmers had been transformed into Russian men, many of them drunk. From the polite tidiness of the well behaved Koreans to the drunken rudeness of the Russian passengers.

Korean Destroyer - Gwanggaeto the Great

The evening restaurant meal was filling but basic and unimaginative. After standing on deck watching the light fade, I headed to the bar that was full of the same even drunker Russian crowd. I chose a table in the corner away from the festivities and was soon joined by an amiable Frenchman from Montpellier. Unfortunately, it was not long before we were joined by Viktor, a 50ish ex-serviceman who spent time fighting with the Russian Army in Afghanistan and Chechnya. He spent about an hour talking about something or other, and then attempted to break my thumb when we shook hands. I decided it was time to leave and avoid the nightclub. How I miss the farmers.

Perhaps time to watch a film on my computer. Viktor said he’d see me tomorrow – lets hope not.

Well, this paragraph is being written at after 2am. It turns out my decision not to visit the nightclub was a good one – there was a brawl involving a group of Russians and they suspect one person has been lost over the side. We have been idling in the water whilst the crew performs numerous headcounts and passport checks. I wonder if Viktor is still with us.