I didn’t wake up until my roommates started to move around. They came and went and I just stayed in bed sleeping. Eventually I got up and we talked some. They asked if I wanted to eat breakfast with them. I said yes and we left for the cafeteria. We ordered noodle soup similar to the Ramen noodle soup sold in the U.S., except our soup was made in South Korea or Japan. We talked a lot about Russia and the U.S. After breakfast we separated and I went back to our room and filled out customs and immigration forms. I was quite appreciative that the forms were in four languages: Russian, Japanese, South Korean and English. It took me about 45 minutes and some hunting to find all the information required. My roommates came back and I helped them with one or two questions they had about their forms. We talked more and I apologized for not remembering their names. Both the husband and wife spoke quite good English. They were going to South Korea on a vacation or holiday. He was a bridge and road engineer. They left the room again and I went back to sleep again. I didn’t wake up until there was an announcement over the ferry public address system. Actually I thought it was 12:00 noon and we were pulling into the Port of Sokcho, in South Korea. In reality we were about two hours out yet. I went out on deck and saw my roommates and asked if I could take their picture. They said yes. I had a problem because I was facing into the sun and their faces were black. I finally had them stand facing into the sun and took a picture. The pictures then came out great. I also took pictures of the two Swiss guys I met the night before. I then went and sat in the cafeteria until the ferry was ready to dock. The people were lining up in front of the stairs getting ready to disembark. The ferry company made an announcement informing all passengers to go back to their rooms/berth. Each room was then inspected. It had something to with quarantine and no one could disembark the vessel until it was inspected. By this time the ferry had docked. When the all clear was given it was a mass of humanity rushing toward the stairs to disembark the ferry. It continued that way until everyone was off the ferry. Then it was off to South Korean Customs and Immigration. The lines moved along pretty good. I thought I needed a picture of this as reminder that I was no longer on Russian soil and took one. I immediately was told not to do that again. I was looking around the room and saw two posters showing no picture taking. I was guilty as charged. The Korean gentleman and his teenage son were ahead of me going through customs. They both approached the customs window together. The woman immediately hollered at them that it was only one person at a time and to get back behind the green line. He tried to explain that his son was deaf. She would have no part of that and said get back behind the green line. So he did. She asked the deaf son some questions which he had no clue what she was talking about. She then proceeded to shout louder and the son backed up looking at his dad with a please help me expression, not knowing what she was hollering about. The father again approached the customs agent and again tried explain his son was deaf. He finally had to cover his ears as a sign his son was deaf before she got the message he couldn’t hear. It was my turn with the custom agent and my passport went through without a problem. I was then directed to the metal detector. I started taking off my coat and shoes because of all the metal in them. They said no, no, so I just walked through the metal detecting arch. I rang off and was immediately escorted to some office where everyone spoke English. Again I was a special person. I told them I had a motorcycle on the ferry and showed them the paperwork on it. I was pretty much sitting around doing nothing as the wheels of customs and immigration were at work. I asked the supervisor if he could call a telephone number which would put me in touch with Wendy Choi my shipping agent in Seoul, South Korea. He said, oh, we know Wendy. She even called us today to let us know you were coming. So he dialed her up, gave me the telephone and I told her I arrived at the Port of Sokcho. She said the truck driver will arrive at the Port around 5:30/6:30 p.m. to haul my motorcycle to Seoul. After I hung up the telephone, a guy from customs asked me to drive my motorcycle off the ferry. I followed him out of the office out to the ferry. I walked up the ramp into the ferry, undid the hold down straps, rocked my bike off the center stand, started it and drove it out of the ferry. My customs guy was waiting for me in the parking lot and told me to drive the motorcycle into the building until I cleared customs and paid my shipping bill. We walked back to the office where again I sat waiting for the wheel of customs and immigration to turn. I did not feel put out in any way and felt things were moving pretty fast. I asked one of the girls working in the office if I could check my e-mail while I was waiting. This is always a little awkward because you have to change the keyboard from Korean to English and then if you make a mistake it always goes back to Korean. This was also the case in Russia too. Of course I never can seem to get everything correct the first time. So I had to ask the girl to help me several times which I know kind of aggravated her. Then I was on the computer when she needed it. Eventually they asked me to move to another desk so they could use their own desks. I needed to read all my e-mails, especially the ones from Linda my ticket agent in Minnesota and Wendy my motorcycle shipping agent in Seoul, South Korea. We all three had to coordinate so I could fly and my motorcycle would get shipped out of Korea smoothly. The internet was our communication link with each other. Wendy handled all the motorcycle shipping arrangements from the Port of Sokcho to Seoul, to Vancouver, British Columbia Canada, and Linda handled all my flight arrangements from Seoul, Korea to Vancouver, British Columbia. I was the yes or no man. Yes I can do that, or no, that won’t work for me. By the time I finished all my e-mails they had all the paperwork completed on my motorcycle and the shipping fees calculated. I had to pay a 250 dollar shipping fee for the ferry and some kind of a port fee for the Port of Sokcho. The total bill was almost 300 dollars. The travel time from the Port of Zarubino to the Port of Sokcho was 19 hours. So it was a fair distance we traveled on that ferry. I don’t know the exact miles or kilometers between these two ports. So with financial issues over with I was taken back to my motorcycle and released from the Port of Sokcho. This all took less than 3 hours. The ferry arrived late because we departed late from Port of Zarubino. I was suppose to have a six hour wait for my truck driver at the Port of Sokcho but when I and my motorcycle was released from customs and immigrations it was already past 6:30 p.m. and my truck and truck driver was waiting for me at the building where my motorcycle was being temporally incarcerated. All the help was waiting for me. Somebody opened the door for me; I walked in, started my motorcycle, drove it out to the pallet and then drove up on the pallet. Everybody was so helpful trying not to let my motorcycle tip over that they almost caused me to tip my bike over. I had to holler at them to stop before all their good intentions had me and my motorcycle lying on the ground in a pile. That also happened to me once before when I was oiling my drive chain. My bike likes to fall to the right side when it’s loaded up and the guy offered to hold it while I oiled the chain. That again was a kind gesture but he was pushing so hard on the right side that he almost tipped it over on the left side and that was with the kickstand down. I had to holler at him to stop pushing. Then he felt stupid and walked away. Anyway, we lived through all of that. Once on the pallet, the fork truck lifted the pallet slightly higher than the truck bed and I rolled it onto the truck bed. I offered to let them use my tie down straps to strap the motorcycle down. They declined and tied the motorcycle down with their ropes. They did a nice job of securing the motorcycle. I threw all my stuff in the cab with the driver and headed off to the bathroom. When I came out my motorcycle and all my stuff was driving out the gate. I said crap…………………..there goes all my documents and coat. I was concerned that I might lose some of my important paperwork and God knows what else. I’m supposed to ride with the truck that is hauling my motorcycle to Seoul and it has left and I’m standing here. The other truck driver said not to worry…………it’s not a problem. He said come with him. So I jumped in his truck and he took me to his supervisor’s office. He said I would stay there until 11:00 p.m. when the other truck will return with my motorcycle and pick me up. We then would drive to Seoul. He then heated up a package of Korean noodle soup for me, provided the all the necessary silverware, chopsticks, something to drink and turned on the television. Before he boiled the soup he asked me if I wanted spicy or just plain noodle soup. I picked the spicy soup not knowing it was spicy. He boiled the water over a small butane camping stove and added the noodles. Remember this is a 45 plus year old guy doing the cooking here. This is a no frills meal………… real guy stuff. I ate out of the pot the soup was prepared in and drank out of a cup that was used by God knows how many other people. He didn’t bat an eye about this and neither did I. Something else, all the conversations I was having with these truck drivers from the time we started loading my motorcycle until it was crated up in Seoul were in Korean and English. They didn’t understand or speak English and I didn’t speak or understand Korean. So you know there was a lot of give and take going on trying to get our messages across. The soup was not only spicy but it was very hot. I had to let the noodles cool down or risk blistering the roof of my mouth. I had a glass of water to help with the spicy soup. It cooled down my mouth and tongue. The soup was spicy enough that my forehead was perspiring and my nose was running. The Korean guy realized this and kept my glass of water filled so I could put the fire out in my mouth. We kind of laughed about it. He said I could sleep on the rolled up mat on the floor and use the small pillow. He said the other truck driver would be at the office at 11:00 p.m. and then showed me how to lock the door and how the TV remote worked. He then left. I watched some television, set the alarm on my watch and fell asleep. I probably had slept three hours when my alarm went off. I was laying there thinking I really don’t want to get up. It wasn’t, and I not kidding, two minutes later and the other truck driver was pounding on the office door to let him in. I let him in and then rolled up the sleeping mat. I checked to make sure everything was put back away, the television was turned off, I put on my shoes, locked the door and we left. When I got in the truck I checked that my coat and all my paperwork was still in the cab. It was. As we drove out of town I commented to myself that I haven’t seen a light show like this in months. I was talking about the multi-colored city lights on the store fronts, the car lights and stop lights. Just a lot of different lights. It was also different and orderly. Once we left the city it was just highway and driving through small towns.
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