The last couple of times I've been over at Korean Parents' apartment, Korean Father has been out climbing a nearby mountain, a regular activity for him. I don't know whether 'climbing' is the right verb to use as the process involves a two hour walk up to the summit and a two hour walk back down, but calling the whole experience a walk doesn't seem to do it justice because I can see the mountain quite clearly from my apartment and it fits no idea of walking that I've ever come across.
On a clear day, Korean Father phones up Korean Mother from the summit and waves to her - and apparently he is visible from their apartment block home. (It is of course unthinkable that there shouldn't be a mobile connection even there).
Korean Father wants me to join him on one of his daily expeditions, but I've explained to him that I may need to take some time building up to a four-hour hike. Maybe about four years. OK - I didn't share that last bit with him. I was initially quite keen to join him in fact, but seeing him return recently in his mountain gear has made this inner-city guy realise how naively I was viewing the experience. To add a little spice any Meniere's attack on route is going to make getting back to civilisation a very interesting experience - although I think Korean Father has offered to piggy-back me down should trouble arise.
I can only imagine that should I be incapacitated on the mountain and returned thus, the story of the Westerner who couldn't walk up the Korean mountain will be the stuff of legend in this country for decades to come...
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