Early bedtimes mean early waking times, and jet lag means early waking times whether you like it or not. Just because it's 6pm at home doesn't mean you have to get up, I say. But the ol'Circadian Rythm apparently disagrees. Which is all the witty dialogue you can think of when you're lying awake against your will at 4am. But it left plenty of time to plan out the packing that started at 5am, the shower at 6am, and the breakfast and train ride out to my uncle's house at 7am. My cousin was kind enough to accompany me, and we had a bit of fun catching up on things (She's unemployed now. She just quit. I don't have to ask her how she's doing, because the answer is always "GREAT!"). And then we met kiwi, who didn't hear me say that I was dragging along two heavy bags (the heavier one which was filled with her clothing). A madcap scene then unfolded, invloving rushing to the house to drop off bags, rushing to the train station to pick up bullet train (KTX) tickets, getting in the wrong line, realizing that the automated machine wasn't going to work, finally getting our tickets with one minute before departure time, topped off with the classic footrace through the train station to catch our train just in the nick of time (only without steam bellowing everywhere). Whew! The Bullet Train is actually rather dull. You're going 250kpm, and it's so smooth that it feels like 20kpm. And the food cart vendors that shuffle down the aisle reek of such apathy that you can rest assured that the food sucks. GyeongSan feels a lot like Seoul, which is a polite way of saying that it's totally paved over and has lost all of it's soul. We met the cousin and his wife (I'm still not too sure who they are), ate a delicious lunch of many many plates of small food portions, and met up with the rest of the family at the hotel where the older folks would be staying the night. As usual, I met some relatives who were overeager for me to say hello to my father, and the rest who couldn't stand the annoying twinkie with the two cameras. After losing half of our convoy of cars 3 minutes after leaving the hotel, we managed to regroup and head up to the cemetary, which is suprisingly low in the hills. Somehow, I got bit 5 times by mosquites, but only on the left hand. Besides the prayer session that lasted too long (the minister's wife was tugging at his sleeve to tell him to cut it off), and the admiring of the stone tablet of family geneology, it was a suprisingly brief visit. Got to finally use the 28mm pentax screw mount lens on the spotmatic (for the family portrait), and then it was off to the restaurant ... ... where we were served large heaping portions of tasteless (but not spoiled) raw fish. Raw fish of every form and cut, and all with the consistant texture and taste of wet cotton. I was sure to eat as much as I could stomach, tho. And one of the uncles regailed us with stories of when he was a television reporter for KBS. The bullet train ride home involved much sleeping, as did the subway ride home. As a bonus, I got the skinny on my cousin kiwi's bank balance (too low). And that was pretty much an exhausting Day 2.