It’s no surprise that dried fish in all its forms is prevalent in much Korean cooking. Other than fish, pork seems to be the main source of meat. In case you are wondering, there is dog here to be eaten, but it does not seem to be a featured ingredient in every day restaurants. I did actually see a man selling dogs, kept in small cages on the back of his truck. To me meat is meat, but I have to say I felt sadder to see this than I thought that I would.

Our mid morning snack consisted of the phenomena that is the Korean “Pizza”. It’s not a pizza in the Western sense, but a fried buckwheat pancake containing kim chi and other vegetables. Explaining the process of making kim chi would take some time, but it’s basically the most important ingredient in Korean cooking, a fermented vegetable in a spicy sauce.

Time for a Korean BBQ for lunch. This consists of three different cuts of pork, self cooked and assembled at the table with the usual range of side dishes – lots of lettuce, chilli and garlic. It’s all to soon time to head down the the ferry terminal in the port.

It’s here that I have to say a sad farewell to the amazing Mr Taegeun Kim. He is heading off to his family having been on the road in Europe for over three months. I gave him my lucky Russian Railways pocket watch as a momento of his Trans-Siberian journey. It’s brought me nothing but good fortune, so I hope it brings him good luck to. Time to head back up the gang plank of the Eastern Dream..

Probably just as well I didn’t look at the shipping forecast. Although it’s a nice day in port, it’s immediately clear that the ship is going to be rolling badly tonight. The crew issue a warning (even in English) about walking around the ferry without holding on to something, and advise against going out on deck due to the high wind and waves. Fortunately before we sailed I have taken a quick inventory of the lifeboats and found the best looking one to head for in the event of an emergency – deck 3, port side..

I debate weather eating anything is a good idea given the sea conditions, but decide it’s better to have something to throw up if it comes to it, so I treat myself to a final Korean “pizza” in the bar. Apart from a few shouty people (I can’t work out why, they don’t seem drunk, just very loud) most of the passengers are pretty friendly. My journey is a real icebreaker and I’m soon enjoying a few farewell to Korea toasts of Makguli.

My last night at sea isn’t a good one. I contemplated changing the title of this post to “The Cruel Sea” but that would be over dramatic. The problem is part sea and part cabin, so a better description would be “The Cruel Cabin”. I should point out that it’s not the occupants who are cruel, they are all super well behaved. The problem is there is no ventilation, the temperature feels like the Congo, and the cabin moves badly in the roll and the swell. The ship has no stabilisation and a small sea is all that is needed to recreate something more epic in room 1203. At one point I throw my cards in and go to find a public space to sleep in but this has other problems – an icy wind from the gale, shouty passengers and poor security. The night is a long one and I almost get no sleep at all. It’s the last thing I need, as I have to be at my train best for the logistics of the day ahead.

The next morning our problem was where to leave our luggage whilst exploring Donghae. What would you do if there was no left luggage service in a town you were travelling in? Well the solution here was to leave it at a police station. Yes that’s right, a police station.. Feeling vaguely guilty of some recent train based window opening offences, I sheepishly stepped inside the local cop shop. I need not have worried though as we were met by two very helpful officers who took personal responsibility for our luggage. They were packing automatic 9mm pistols, but seemed far to nice to ever draw them. Good to know that my suitcase was well protected though.

Taegeun served his conscription time in the police, and I didn’t ask if there was a secret handshake. Nonetheless this is a world away from interacting with the police in Russia, where any meeting might involve a big problem for you.

The Eastern Dream is breaking with its usual schedule and stoping here overnight. I’m guessing this is to let the crew have a night off for New Year. I have booked to stay in a hotel that is an hour away from the port. It’s famous in Korea for its view of the sunrise each day, and I’m staying here for the biggest sunrise of the year – bringing in the New Year. Oh, and yes it’s also a ship, built on a cliff. The problem with my plan is that it’s not a unique one. There are in fact over a million South Koreans who have a plan that goes as follows – (1) drive to Jeongdongjin (2) find a hotel (3) find a restaurant (4) get stuck in a huge traffic jam after sunrise (5) drive home.

My secret weapon is of course Taegeun, so I get there with the minimum of fuss. He is in fact so keen to ensure I enjoy my trip in his country that he has decided to travel with me. He isn’t worried about where he ends up sleeping for the night and explains that it’s quite normal to just end up on a mat on the floor of the hotel sauna for a small fee. I’m touched by his kindness and resolve.

I now have to reveal to you a secret plan for this side trip. In 1996 a North Korean submarine sailed into Donghae port in a suspected defection attempt, with all but one of the crew mysteriously killed. It is now possible to visit this submarine. Amazingly, it is on display in a South Korean military “theme park” just 7 km from my hotel. This would normally take just 15 minutes in a taxi, but on the 1st January the estimate is over three hours due to horrendous traffic. It’s rum news having come this far, but I shall have to return again to visit it on a more sensible date.

Having just got off a ship, checking back into one on dry land plays tricks with the mind. The hotel even goes as far as to play the sound of waves and sea birds in its grounds to complete the effect. The check in staff laugh at us, and I discover that this is because they are amazed to hear that we have come here overland from Moscow.

I don’t have much time to dwell though, as its time for some local sushi before the other million visitors to Jeongdongjin have the same idea.

It’s not a meal for you if you don’t like lots of slightly strange fish based things. I seem to pass the initiation test by managing to consume a complete raw green chilli and a clove of garlic with my raw octopus. The owner acknowledges my achievement – my palate is determined to be almost Korean.

The restaurant has a lovely atmosphere with lots of families enjoying a New Year feast. The Korean children don’t know what to make of me. They come over to stare at me with incredulous eyes and their mouths wide open.

After dinner on the streets of Jeongdongjin it’s quite lively – this is a lovely Korean beach town with loads of places to eat and drink. I’m amazed to see that for New Year it’s possible to buy huge fireworks by the armful from street vendors. Their are piles and piles of three foot long Roman candles. This could get messy later on..

I finish up back at my hotel which has a very 1980’s revolving bar on the 9th floor. It’s a nice to people watch. Mainly Koreans and Chinese here tonight, and certainly no one from Europe. The staff are really kind even though they speak very little English. An unexpected pleasure of the revolving motion of the bar is that the Phillipino man playing the piano rather badly gradually rotates further away from my table..

New Year goes off with a bang, and then it’s time to enjoy a good nights sleep in a real bed without tannoy announcements, screaming children, drunk Russians or a sea swell. That is until the compulsory and non cancelable telephone alarm call for sunrise wakes me at 07.28.