We woke to slight winds but sunny skies, surrounded by red and orange mountains on all sides.

After our necessary Maxim fix (Koreans always have individually packed coffee sticks on hand), we set off for a hike that would kick my ass- literally (well, at least my thigh).

The scenery was beautiful, fall leaves everywhere. People, awesome, good conversations.

The ajumas and ajoshes- not so awesome, not so beautiful.

They would sneak up behind us in packs, and instead of saying “실레합니다,” (Shille hamnida- excuse me), they would just get as close as possible to whoever was bringing up the rear, practically stepping on our heels with their walking sticks.

We developed a lingo for this- “comin’ in hot;” we would say this to one another so we knew to quickly get out of these feisty ajuma’s way (you know how they can be!).

However, on the path back down to the town, an ajoshe was gaining speed.

“Comin’ in hot,” I heard. So I moved over to get out of his way, effectively falling off the path, into the ditch and banging my hip against the guard rail. The ajoshe looked back a few times but never slowed his speed.

Luckily I love me a sweet bruise.