After meeting up with the Hunters group, we boarded our bus to pick up another group in Suwon, a city about an hour away from Seoul. The group consisted mainly of fuelers in the U.S. Air Force. Let's just say they had definitely been breathing in fuel fumes. They boarded the bus shotgunning beers and the insanity continued the entire way there, including dancing in the aisles, karaoke, and Harlem Shaking dangling from the storage racks above our seats. The boyf was beside himself--being from South Africa, he was not accustomed to American displays of stupidity.
After the absolutely insanity of the bus ride, we arrived in Boryeong to find our pension (think hotel, no beds) and that because the boyf is South African and we went with a South African group, the trip leader basically hooked us up with a small room NOT crowded with 45 people like some unlucky folks. After a quick change into our swim suits, it was time to get muddy!
And then the Canadian 2.0 and I promptly lost everyone else.
Like, immediately. We lost them en route to the beach! And with the crazy huge crowds, we basically decided we would just never see anyone ever again so we would celebrate by going into Mudfest. Except they said it was closed because it was too full. Major sad face.
So we went and jumped in the ocean, instead. The water was awesomely warm, except everywhere you looked, there were people. It was like taking a bath with 30,000 of you best friends who were all wearing regular clothes because they have a weird aversion to swimsuits.
We caught a beachside concert, later, and messaged the lads to find where they were and later connected. Once reunited, we decided to try going into Mudfest again. Literally, two minutes later, the Canadian 2.0 and I lost everyone again. However, we did meet some really nice people. We actually got to go into the fest at this point, where we promptly cut every line to do anything.
Mud prison? Cut the line and ate a lot of mud by accident.
Mud obstacle course? Cut the line and lost to the Canadian 2.0 because some girl in a saggy swimsuit was stuck in front of me.
Mud slide? Cut the line and then accidentally slid our way out of Mudfest.
Back into the ocean we went. Eventually and completely randomly, we met up with the Loud American, who was off by himself all day and completely lost. When he saw us, he dropped everything and looked like he was going to cry. He said "I lost everyone. I don't know where I live!"
Later that evening, we returned to our pension and played yahtzee while the Quiet American passed out on the floor all over some stranger's stuff. Then there was a braai! A real South African braai! And it was awesome! The braai gave way to a dance party and the dance party gave way to all of my coworkers (not me, Mom) going skinny-dipping in the ocean. And almost getting arrested. And all of their clothes and belongings washing out to sea in the fast-approaching tide. Seriously. None of them have phones anymore.
The night ended with fabulous fireworks and a nighttime stroll on the beach. What a perfect night!
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