The Goodness of Gongju

So my lovely friends, here I sit, in a weird ‘vanilla sky’ silicone facemask, in socks and a nightie, watching a disturbing film called Arena ( a resounding 26% on Rotten Tomatoes). 

I’m still in Gongju and the wee Hanok feels amazingly like home. As does Gongju. Though it is just a small town, it’s creeping into my heart, sneaking into my future stories, and largely because of the kindness of people. 

People like the inspiring Julia, a South-African teacher who’s a working mum, teaching full-time and looking after two beautiful girls by herself who has been so kind. Or Mr and Mrs Lee, who run the cafe I work in sometimes and who sat me down with a pot of green tea and hot chestnuts to tell me all about Gongju’s heritage. Or the kind woman today who chased me in the street to give me a pair of socks, ‘You writer, English, girl’ she pointed to my bare feet in plimsoles ‘to keep warm.’ And if there’s a kinder gift than warm feet I can’t think of many. 

Anyway, here are some Gongju pictures while I try to work out in words what I’ve seen in these pictures:

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Oh, and there this thing you can do. If you want to. Only if you feel like it, you know. Whatevs.