Driving into the Unknown

I swore I would never drive in this country. Why would I? The public transport system is reliable, cheap and efficient. Need to get home at night? Taxis cost you as much as a glass or two of beer. Need to move that big sofa? There’s always a guy with a van who will do it for twenty bucks. So why would I choose to drive?

 

The truthful answer is that my parents came to visit. There was so much I wanted to show them of this wonderful country, but they had so little time. Then my friend offered me her car. My initial reaction was hell no! But, then the practicalities dawned on me. It was either show them bits of Busan, Seoul and Kyung Ju, or show them everything I possibly could. Show them why I’ve made this country my home. So, I decided to become a driver.

 

The first step was to get my Korean license. I went to the local driving center, handed over my British license, and told them I wanted to be one of them. “Just go to that office over there and complete some basic tests”, the kind lady told me. Apprehensively, I approached, wondering if the driving skills I had learnt back home were up to the same standard of Korea. After testing my eyesight I was asked to perform a bizarre series of tests, which amounted to, jumping jacks, squat thrusts and touching my toes. And then...they handed me a brand, spanking new Korean license.

 

Once stepping behind the wheel I was hooked. It was nothing like I had ever experienced in my life. A friend of mine who had been driving for a number of years told me of his first experiences “It’s like a video game”, he said. “You turn your car stereo up to full blast and dodge and weave and put your foot hard to the pedal, the adrenaline is pumping fast and it’s a frikking buzz!” He also added that there are no ‘lives’ in Korea. Screw up and that is that.

 

To be honest, I made some serious mistakes in my first few weeks in the driver's seat. I think it was the mistake of applying the way I had been taught back home to the Korean roads. That simply wasn’t going to work. Back home you are told to check your rear view mirror before attempting any maneuverer. Here that rule is pretty much null and void. Sure check your rear view mirror, but all you will see is an SUV inches from the back of your car, lights on full beam, aiming to make your 1997 Kia the meat in his sandwich when the whole procession of cars comes to a grinding halt.

 

But over the years I’ve become more and more savvy to driving in Korea. The key is aggressive self preservation. In the hell that is city driving you have to be first to act and never give an inch. Although my car is old, it’s a manual, a concept alien to most Korean drivers. My gears are my weapon. I’m always the first off the lights, giving me control of the space ahead. Sure, the big powerful BMWs and Mercedes eventually catch up to me, their occupants giving a curious, sideways glance at the foreigner in the piece of junk that just sped off in front of them. I’ve even had guys, in cars a hundred times more expensive than mine, offering to race me at the next set of lights. They try harder the second time around.

 

Now that I have a car, I can’t imagine life without it. The convenience of being able to drive thirty kilometres across the city just to pick up some coriander. Or, being able to throw a cooler, tent and dog into the back of the car and drive into the beautiful Korean countryside for a weekend camping trip would be impossible without it.

 

Driving here is often stressful, but I absolutely love it. Those who also drive will understand. The rest of you, I’m sure, are still saying, “Hell No!”

 

 

Cars to the left of me,

Cars to the right of me,

Cars behind me,

Into the Jaws of Death

Into the Mouth of Hell

Rode, my little Kia Avella...