I’m sydneyed. Sitting downtown, being my typical, cafe-sitting self. I so much prefer just being places, to trying to be a tourist. Tourism, per se, is not actually something I enjoy. But I love sitting and existing in new or different places.
The bus from the airport was free of charge, because the authorities were feeling guilty the airport train was shut down for maintenance, I guess. A cheap Sunday morning holiday in Syd. 30 degrees C warmer than Seoul. Awkward climate transitions. Australians are so casual. They tell jokes and give sarcastic answers to strangers.
But the place I’m sitting, I’m overhearing two different conversations in Korean. And one in, maybe, Chinese. Sydney is global.
I had a weird insight, last night, sitting in the airport at Incheon. Korea fascinates me because although it is stunningly post-modern, it manages to be post-modern in a deeply earnest, largely unreflective, and completely unironic way. And that’s just plain weird, because for the Western sensibility, the post-modern position is definitionally ironic.