To England and Back.

So here I am. Where is here you ask? A good question. In Korea. That puts an end to your pestering questions but it doesn't tell the full story. The full story is astonishingly dull, so I'll give you just a vague outline. I finished travelling with Little Spoon and I returned to England. Little Spoon returned to LA, my friends Chocolate Orange and Chess Champ went to travel the world and Rude Boy Yatesy moved to Seoul.

Then I came back to Korea after 3 months of doing nothing but entertain my family and friends with witty anecdotes about life in Korea and how cheap beer is in comparison to cheese. The hours must have flown by for my nearest and dearest who cheered in the streets upon my arrival in England and wailed and beat the ground upon my departure.

So what high jinks did I get up to over the summer months in glorious England? Very little. I embarked upon a new fitness regime that involved jumping across a rug in my living room and doing press ups on a kitchen chair. That lasted two weeks, which is two weeks better than not embarking on any fitness regime at all.

Other than that, I went to a friends wedding in Poland, gave a brilliant, erudite best man's speech, then got so pathetically inebriated that I almost knocked a giant speaker onto the brides sister. It would have killed her instantly had it fallen, and generally put a sour note to the days events.

Thankfully I was escorted out by embarrassed friends and the brides sister is alive to this day.

So that was England. Oh and Poland. It was early September that I returned to Korea, to the same school as before, for a nice pay rise but without many of the people who had made last year such fun. I still had good friends, but those that had left, had left Daegu for good and so it was with some sorrow that I waited to board my flight. I was to fly to Dubai, where I would change on to another flight that would whisk me to Korea, a long and stressful journey at the best of times.

So you can imagine my mood taking a turn for the worse when an official announcement rang out...

"Ladies and Gentleman there will be a slight delay to boarding, because we have several passengers in wheelchairs who need some assistance and will be given priority for boarding."

WHAT? I spun around and sure enough, there they were. The several passengers in wheelchairs who needed some assistance. Only there were not several, there was at least twenty of them and they all had matching tracksuits. They appeared to be some sort of sports team. Since when do sports teams "need assistance"? I walked over to have a closer look, and my anger began to rise.

They all had legs. All of them. Not only that, but full, strong looking legs in tracksuits no less. There was not a withered leg amongst them and they were smiling. I wasn't smiling, but then again I wasn't getting priority boarding with assistance whilst relaxing in a snazzy tracksuit was I?

As they wheeled away I fought to control my fury. If I walk onto this plane and find that they are in first class, someone else is going to be in a wheelchair by the end of this flight. As I began to walk towards the plane I became convinced they would be swanning about in first class, drinking champagne and laughing at the able bodied.

Surely I was not the only one annoyed by this discrimination? I looked about and everyone else seemed cheerful and calm. Where were the obnoxious and the arrogant? This flight was going to Dubai for Gods Sake. Surely it couldn't be hard to find someone vile on here, afterall 99% of people who holiday there are repugnant scum aren't they? I should be in my element.

Nothing. Just smiles and laughter. Probably looking forward to making fun of some Arab custom or spending their loose change on a sex slave from the third world whose been shipped into one of the 14 Star Hotels. Heartless Bastards.

Ah YES...no wheelchairs in First Class. In your face wheelchair team, get back into economy with the rest of us. It's not like you need the leg room anyway. Arrogant swines, I bet they tried to demand first class; with their new tracksuits and...I dropped my hand luggage. A friendly man in a wheelchair picked it up and handed it to me.

I thanked him and contemplated saying what a disgrace it was that his team hadn't been given First Class when it was not even full. But he might think that patronising and I wouldn't want anyone to get the idea that I was ignorant.

There were no more incidents of note on my journey and I arrived in Seoul to go and visit Rudeboy Yatesy for a few days of merriment, before I headed back down to Daegu to meet some new teachers, and to embark upon another year of pretending to be a teacher.

If you have missed the internets most asinine stories, then rejoice, I will be back once a week. If you were glad to see the back of them, then I hope you stub your toe whilst walking down a busy street. Until next time...