Jeju Island
A soft wind blew over the ocean, the sun shone down kindly on the billowing green grass of Jeju Island. I sat on the balcony of my hotel room, slowly sipping my tea as I watched blue waves lap softly against black volcanic rock. It tasted pure, sweet, yet full bodied. I would add it to the list.
When I had finished my cup I slowly sauntered back into the tastefully decorated hotel room, and opened my laptop. I brewed myself another cup of tea as I gathered the numbers and email addresses of the farmers, the exporter and various other relevant people into my neat little spreadsheet. Then I opened the text document and recorded my impressions in it as I sipped.
I was relieved that the tea was really as good as I had hoped. My boss, Fawn, knew how much I had loved Jeju Island when I came to test and source various citrus fruits for a banquet that she was throwing in Shanghai. When I had suggested that I go to Jeju to try the teas she looked at me with a cocked eye, perhaps suspecting that I was just trying to sneak a free trip from her.
Now the fun part was done. The next few days would be all business meeting and price negotiations, but at least I had the rest of the day off. I sent an email to Fawn with rough details about the teas I had enjoyed, then I got dressed and went out. I couldn’t move forward on anything until I had her approval. The day was mine to enjoy.
It was around ten in the morning as I left the hotel. The weather was perfect, sunny but not warm yet. It was early spring, everything was just starting to bloom. The Koreans were still wearing light jackets and long trousers, but being British myself I was already in a T-shirt and shorts. I did have my jacket with me though, just in case.
I hadn’t made any plans for the day. I was technically still working. My work phone was in my backpack just in case something came up, but that was improbable as it was the middle of the night in the UK.
I decided to walk along the Olle trail, the scenic route that encircled the entire island, and was handily marked with little blue and orange ribbons. It was too early for the Korean tourists to come, so it was not too busy. There were a few people now and again, but at some parts I could be alone with my thoughts.
The trail was long, consisting of twenty-six stretches and it was recommended for hikers that wanted to complete the whole thing to take one per day. I fantasized about one day taking a vacation to complete it, but I knew I never would. I travelled so much for work that I had to spend every vacation at home with my family if I ever wanted to spend any time with them at all.
The path was beautiful. It started alongside the calm ocean, which lapped over rugged black volcanic rock. The harsh nature of the rock beneath contrasted beautifully with the soft, easy growth of the plants above it, pliable, light green and scenic. The cherry blossoms were budding, but not blooming yet. When they would finally bloom I would probably be half the world away.
Then the path turned slightly onto the rolling countryside. Beautiful farms dotted vibrant hills, where people worked with immaculate sun protection: hats, masks and gloves. Quite the opposite of most people from my home country, who preferred to tan until they were the colour of leather.
I applied a little more sunscreen. The masks were too much for me, but sun damage on my skin was no longer my style either.
I walked on and on, always chasing that next little flag. The path led me to the sea again, and suddenly I realized that I had walked past lunchtime. My stomach started gurgling as I walked. It was very rare for me to forget to eat.
I checked the maps on my phone. There were not as many restaurants along the trail as I had expected. The next one was thirty minutes ahead, and after that there didn’t seem to be many others for more than an hour. I walked steadily along the way, fantasizing about all the different dishes I had seen in the reviews of the restaurant.
Finally I got there. It was closed. I walked up to the door, the lights were turned off inside. My stomach dropped. I hadn’t brought any snacks with me. Would I really have to walk for a full hour just to get the opportunity to eat? I was going to be so hungry and miserable.
I sighed, looked at my map and decided to keep going, there was nothing else to do. I looked to the side where a little old woman was smiling at me. She was very short, less than five feet. She had deep wrinkles and a kind face.
I smiled back politely. She pointed to the restaurant and then made a motion for eating, I nodded sadly. She said something in Korean, but all I knew how to say was hello and thank you. Then she waved for me to come with her.
I followed her with wonder. Was she really inviting a complete stranger into her home? She led me to a simple, clean home, with western appliances and Korean decorations. She motioned me to sit down at a little table with two chairs. I nodded and smiled.
I got my translating app and said: “Hello, my name is Olivia. What is your name?”
The app spoke in Korean, I hoped it was right. The woman looked in confusion at my phone. I turned it to her, and asked her to speak. She shook her head in silence. Maybe she didn’t like technology.
The first thing she brought to the table was the kimchi, the unmissable stable in every Korean meal.
“Gamsahamnida,” I said.
A formal thank you you. Pretty much the only thing I knew how to say.
The kimchi was tangy and unique. Probably home made, maybe even by this woman. She clearly lived alone, and I wondered how old she was. She moved with perfect ease, and the apartment was clearly well maintained.
Next she brought me warm rice and fish, clearly leftovers from her own lunch earlier. I thanked her every time something was placed on the table. The fish was on the bone with a deep umami sauce, and needed to be picked up to eat with chopsticks. I ate each bite slowly. It was delicious.
I ate at restaurants multiple times a day, trying the most expensive and technically perfect dishes I could find. Still, there was always something more fascinating about a good home cooked meal.
She sat across from me as I ate, and drank from the tea that she offered me as well. She smiled politely every time I smiled and told her how tasty the food was. Perhaps she couldn’t understand my words, but I had to hope that she could understand what I meant when I smiled and put my thumb up.
At the end I thanked her profusely. This was a moment to remember, and exactly what I loved about food. Although this woman and I could not speak more than a couple of words to each other, we were able to communicate through food, and I felt like I knew her a little after.
I left the house in a wonderful mood, walking back into the beautiful sunny day.
My phone rang. It was my boss, Fawn Cassidy the owner of Marigold Catering.
“Hi, Olivia,” she was trying to sound cheerful, but behind it I could detect notes of tenseness.
“Hi, Fawn,” I said slowly.
I waited for her to say what she wanted to say.
“So I’ve taken on a new client,” she said slowly. “Someone who’s opening a new restaurant.”
“So you’ll want me to source ingredients for the restaurant opening?”
“And for the dishes.”
“That’s new. I thought we would just stick to working events.”
I wondered if that was all Fawn was worrying about. She stayed silent for a bit, so I asked:
“So who’s the client?”
“It’s Aaron,” she replied guiltily.
A cold feeling gripped my heart. I stopped dead in my tracks, watching a gentle breeze ripple over a field of cabbages.
“No.”
“Olivia, please I have to do this.”
“You can do it without me.”
“You know I can’t.”
“Please. Whatever history you have with my grandson, can’t you just look past it for the next three months?”
“Three months!? No way, I’ll quit!”
“You won’t quit and you know it,” Fawn said.
She was right of course, there was no way I could ever find a job I loved as much as this one.
“I’ll need a bonus,” I told her. “Double pay for every hour I have to work on Aaron’s restaurant.”
She sighed.
“Fine.”
I hung up the phone, cursing myself. I would have thought there was not enough money in the world for me to work with the man who shattered my heart. Apparently I was wrong.
***
Author’s note: As you read this, I would really appreciate if you leave a like, comment, reaction or review. It’s the only way I can know if people actually read and enjoy my stories <3
