RETURN OF THE HOON!

I often wonder what family means (Not really but I have to set the scene somehow). I’ve just come back from a week or so in Korea where I met numerous uncles, aunties and cousins most of whom I had not seen or talked to for up to 15 years. In Korean culture family is supposed to be the most important thing in your life but what happens when your father and mother move away to some distant far away land where people are a different colour and can actually pronounce their r’s and f’s . Are these people still your family? I endeavoured to find out and set off on a magical journey of self discovery.

The last time I went to Korea, Rick Astley was cool, Boy George was thin and mullets were in style. That was a very long time ago. I hated Korea when I was thirteen. Nobody spoke English, it was cold and more importantly I was cold. From London, I contacted my cousin, Yoomi who had spent the majority of her late teens and early twenties with the Jang family while studying in Australia. Even Ivan Milat only got life for murdering those poor backpackers. She left for Korea ages ago and had carved out a successful career in Seoul and was happily married with two kids. Yoomi had told my father’s side of the family in Changwon (South South Korea) that I was coming. My mother had rung the Kim’s (No not related to Kim Jong Il. Morons!) in Daegu to tell them that I was also coming to visit.

Armed with my cousin’s phone number and safe in the knowledge that all my relatives knew that the boy from Sydney (not Peter Allen) was coming back to the motherland I set off from Heathrow for Shanghai. So not to confuse some of you I was heading to Seoul via Shanghai so I was also looking forward to some Shanghai shenanigans with Eugs. This was going to be a ripping trip.