Rain, Rain Go Away
I sat watching the chef standing rigidly at the front of the kitchen. His eyes were full of rage. He stormed back and forth across the floor, agitated at his brigade of cooks. To the untrained eye they were doing fine. They seemed to be preparing the food in a reasonable manner and in good time but I could tell from the look on chef’s face that he was unhappy. Was it something with the fish? Or maybe it was the rice, was it undercooked? I continued watching intently, unable to take my eyes away from what I knew was about to transpire. The tension was building. I knew this wasn’t the first time this type of thing had happened. He wasn’t the type of chef who would put up with bad food. The fish was delivered to the front of the kitchen. He inspected the fish as a sous chef to his side prepared the relevant garnishes that went along with it. “It’s raw!” He shouted, sending the slice of sea creature flying across the kitchen. I reached for my bag of chips as I anticipated what would happen next. I had already watched four other episodes of Gordon Ramsay’s “Hell’s Kitchen” that morning so I was well aware that this would lead to the maker’s elimination from the competition.
Whilst I am unsure exactly what impression my writing gives off, I know that I try to shed some light on the more exciting aspects of travel. However sometimes travel isn’t all thigh-slapping anecdotes and chance encounters and humorous experiences of self-realisation. Sometimes a city isn’t filled with hilarious characters and countless moments lifted out of a ‘90s sitcom. Sometimes travel can be difficult, exhausting, unforgiving, unmanageable, uninteresting and lonely. And sometimes it rains.
In Andong it rained a lot. It rained nonstop for two days so I decided to stay another day to try and catch some of the sights. It rained all day that day too. It was forecast to rain for the next ten days. Flooding grew heavy and at times fatal in the region just northwest of where I was. My individual concerns about having an interesting anecdote about each location I visited seemed less relevant.
Needless to say, like most Korean cities Andong was very welcoming and had lots of good food. It had a very interesting folk village (a kind of open-air museum), so I am told. I never got to go there because of the weather.
The only picture I managed to get in three days was of a shrine in the downtown area. I don’t know exactly what the shrine was about but at least I got a picture.
The hostel owner at the place I stayed at was also very kind and hospitable. Hour after hour he saw me in the kitchen drinking cup after cup of corn silk tea. I think he felt sorry that I wasn't able to go out much because he ended up giving me lots of free food. First was the leftover peaches and bananas that had been left in the fridge by previous guests. Then came a packet of Slovakian crisps that he said were his favourite. Then came some local sour plums from his dad. Eventually the weight of his pitying began to feel heavy on my shoulders so, despite a stomach full of donated snacks, I manoeuvred my way through Andong’s rainy streets to get some lunch.
