It is another really lovely day in Seoul. A clear blue sky and lots of sun. I have a bit of a hangover and I would quite like to have used the suns rejuvenating rays to recharge my batteries in the same manner as superman. The problem is that it is quite difficult to find a suitable locale for a spot of sunbathing. I stay in an apartment so its not like I have a back garden or anything and very annoyingly the access to the roof seems to be locked. There is a little sort of playpark next to my building and in theory I could go and lie out there. However, I do not think my conscience could let me do that. Life is tough enough for Korean children without the sight of my pasty flesh when they are just trying to play on the swings. Also, things could get even messier. An old Korean woman might get confused and try and contact Greenpeace to come and debeach me. I really don't need some hemp wearing hippies blocking out my rays.

I went out last night and I had a very good night. Mostly because I heard those words that I have been dying to hear: “Wow, I love your accent.” During my tour in the United States my dulcent tones proved to be money in the bank. However, here my accent has mostly provoked a mixture of confusion and derision. Yet, last night, after a few shots some American girls were asking me to recite lines from Braveheart. Ba da bing.