Weeks 13 & 14 - Back To England

Jim, a good friend of mine, decided to have a wedding and get married...so I returned to England to witness this foolish act. I had an early flight on the Sunday, and so went to Seoul the night before. Nice girl said she would come with me and show me around a part of Seoul...which was kind of her.
Again the day was planned out very well. Everything was written down...even the name of the restaurant where we would have lunch, and the streets we would walk down. Nice Girl first took me to a hotel so I could drop off my luggage. I needed a hand understanding the Korean instructions for the air conditioner, but I had to work it out myself cause apparently 'it is forbidden for a girl to go into a mans room'. I almost said 'sh*t' again, but stopped myself and said 'bol%*cks' instead.
It was a plesant, very organised day - and we did not sway from the plan. When she left to catch a bus back to her hometown she said I should call her everyday when I am in England. I had been given my orders.

England.
I was looking forward to a nice 2 week break, and was hoping for some good summer weather. After all, it is August.
I was met at the airport by cold wind and rain, neither of whom I had planned on meeting. Getting to Kings Cross from Heathrow can cost about the same as a plane ticket back to Korea. But there are now 2 trains that go into London, and they use the same track. One costs 20 pounds, and the other is 7, but takes 5 minutes longer. The ticket man asked me which one I wanted to take, and I thought long and hard before telling the man I would like to go on the 7 pound train. He reminded me it is slower than the fast one. I thought again, but decided to stick with it.
The underground from Paddington to Kings Cross, for some reason, now costs 4 pounds, which is the cheapest ticket you can buy. In China and Korea the underground is a cheap form of transport, but in these countries there are no dirty carriages, scratched windows, litter, drunk people, dodgy people, depressed people, grafiti, delays, really loud noise, and a la toilet aroma as there is on the London underground which is why, I guess, it's so expensive.
By the time I got to Kings Cross it was 11pm, and it takes an hour to get to Cambridge. But not tonight. Tonight the trains stopped at a place I didn't want to go to, and then a bus replacement service would take people to all the other stops that nobody wanted to go to, all the way to Cambridge. There was no extra charge for this special service, which was nice. As I was waiting for the train, a friendly person holding a can of beer came to talk to me. He had been drinking all night he said, and was smashed. He asked me to help him find his train because he couldn't see or walk very well. He said he wanted to get to Cambridge, which was fantastic. After the 20 minute journey to the place we didn't want to go to, me and my new best friend got off, and I helped him find the bus...which he appreciated a lot as he said he thought he was in Cambridge, and was about to get a taxi to wherever he was staying.
The bus journey was just great. There was heavy rain outside but we were all dry in the bus. There was no heating, however, and so it was p*ss cold. The bus driver was a friendly chap too, and he was from Poland. He said he hadn't driven along this route before, and asked if we could help him. My best friend was only too pleased to help, and talked to the driver for a long time. He then came and sat with me again, and continued telling me about some things in a language that only he could understand.
The bus driver was soon lost, and we turned around several times. My best friend said he was sure he knew me from somewhere...and as we talked we discovered that we went to the same secondary school, and although he was 5 years older than me, we knew many of the same people. We were then the bestest of best friends. After 2 hours on the bus replacement service bus, as we began to freeze and wondered where the hell we were, he told me he didn't like England very much, and wanted to go and live in Thailand. I said the people in Thailand are very nice, but he should stay in England and support his countries lost bus drivers. He liked that idea.
When we arrived at our destination it was 2am. Luckily mum was still awake and came to pick me up. I said to the drunk man that we could give him a lift to his house, and he was very happy. Mum wasn't so happy, but we all got a long fine. It had taken the same time to get home from Heathrow as it takes to get half way back to Korea on a plane.
Things would surely get better, but two days later an elderly gentleman decided to drive into my hire car in a car park. His reaction time was so slow that after hitting me once he came at me again and hit another part of the car. We were going around 3mph. He did say sorry, but there goes 500 pounds from my bank account. The following 6 hours of that day was spent sitting on the M25 after some lorries drove into each other, and a few miles further down the road a car rolled over after hitting nothing at all. At this time I didn't like England very much. Just when it was getting better I had to leave and go back to Korea. So I did.