The plateaus are grand in section. The retention slips, likely pushed aside by the rolling curiosities and imagery memory stacks. Despite an acute sense of hearing and a tendency to obsess over attention to graphic detail, learning languages may very well be amongst my greatest difficulties.
Firmly, this never hinders the desire to travel and the take on the challenges that come with surviving with audio and verbal difficulties. Japan, amongst others, has supported this finding.
10 days beyond the torpedo, backed with the voice of diplomacy, the 2 lands were just too close. Packed with what I inherited as a thrill for tracking logistics and a personally developed mania for exploring spatial cultures and landscapes, I grasped a day off, to trail off. In clear need of scouting and a proximity that presented ease, I jumped on a high-speed boat between Japan and South Korea; a day and night to Busan.
The day remained the quest of movement. To absorb the brief essence of city from high elevations, urban density, wooded history, and the promise to return. And indeed, the taste of cuisine. Stung happily by my own bugs, the day felt like a charge. An urge I had to fulfill, so close, and a set-up for a return. Bitten by exploration desires that, as each venture assures, will never stop.
A hurdle was only placed when re-entering Japan; leaving to return so quickly seems a bit obscure to passport control. For me it seems right in stride.
