Koreatown

With roughly 3% remaining in my tank we stared over the railing of our deck and debated going to bed. Where as we'd been up for over 24 hours, Sister was running on local time and eager to have someone accompany her on a snack run.

With mission objectives consisting of milk, sugar, gatorade and dinner, we hit up a local supermarket for the former.

This was just on the outskirts of what I would describe as chinatown in any other city: narrow streets with nary a car to be seen, a bit of a twisting and confusing network with odd coming-togethers and circles.

One street was host to a temporary line of food carts, but with a full arrangement of seating for parties already drunk on Soju. After strolling through the neighborhood the very next night, this whole gathering was proven to be nomadic.

Being a coastal city, the precense of seafood became clear, both to the eyes and to the nose.

Sister has a shellfish allergy, and was warned away from purchase of a good looking item.

We returned to the apartment with some Korean fried chicken (read: fried chicken parts), and a few hush-puppy-ish balls containing cheese, potatoes, and vegetables.

Needless to say, a very healthy and wholesome first meal on Korean soil.