TheBridgeMagazineTour: Day 1



We are at JKIA. I hand over my luggage for check-up.  They go through my passport, scan their eyes through my ticket and soon enough I am ensconced between two Brits as we wait to board the airline. It is Fly Emirates. That makes Dubai my impending stop over. The last time was Etihad and so I had to pass through Abu Dhabi. A different experience this is although the transit is still through the UAE. I bury myself in Trevor Noah’s memoir ‘Born A Crime’  as I wait for the call, thanks to my boy Desmond who passed it over after the many days of searching.

#1635 hours


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#1900 hours

I bum on seat 19J sandwiched between two gentlemen, an Indian and a Jap. I am in Economy  but thank God Emirates are pretty much grand. There is no Business class this time round. #Etihad you spoilt me, you! The experience is not so bad though.  Food is Lamb Brochette with Arabic Spices and Grilled Chicken Breast with Caramelised Plums. A petite lady who smells roses and yogurt passes them over. She offers her smile too.


To kill time I got through the Inflight magazine, ‘Open Skies.’ There is much to borrow for  our new baby,’the Bridge Magazine.’ Their layout and design is excellently done. The  writing juts through and grabs you really well. The images stand out. When we land in Dubai I leave with a copy that I intend  to share with our head of design, Joshua, and see if we can pull off something similar.

Image Credits:

2240 hrs

Upon  getting to DXB Airport I have to wait for 5 freaking hours for my connecting flight. I am beat and so I find a nice spot and then  drift to Siesta. I am woken up by this scary Nigerian woman who looks lost (How did I know she is Nigerian? The accent and uncalled for aggressiveness). She asks for terminal B32. Two kids tug along. There is no B32. Also, I don’t think I am dressed like an Airport guide. I let it simmer. Turns out she has mistaken her seat for her  flight terminal to Lagos. We fix the problem and I then return to slumber.

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We transition from a Boeing to an Airbus. I sit next to this mushy Korean couple that can’t help flaunting their love in public. Albeit, in my presence. Stuff to do with honeymoon,aye?  I turn to ICE (the inflight entertainment) to listen to music. There is no Christian music. I try  Sia and Ed Sheeran but they bore me to wits. Hungry and tired, I turn to classical music to help gather some sleep. I avoid the typical: Mozart, Beethoven and Bach.I try Joseph Haydn and boy, is he good? The experience is swell.

Break fast is Chicken congee- Asian style rice porridge with chilli and ginger. A cup of noodles, a croissant and a glass of mango juice are brought too.

Lunch is grilled chicken served with mushroom and pepper sauce, fried potatoes and sauteed spinach. There is cream cheese mousse for dessert.It is crowned with salted caramel and white chocolate.


We land in Seoul. I   hand over some immigration forms that  I had filled up prior, zig zag through the efficient Incheon  Airport (I stress the efficiency because this Airport is way efficient! Good job folks ).

I visit the nearest bureau,  change my money to the local currency and  then rush to the exits. Because I had not applied  for a pick up by guys at Ewha,  I am forced to board a bus that heads to my hostel. I hop into the bus. Next to me is this melodramatic chic (sic!) who is kissing the window and shedding tears. On close introspection I see a young man outside waving her way as he drags a nissan march suitcase. Turns out the lad is flying out and leaving the poor girlfriend behind. Young love!  I  offer some tissues to which she picks with gratitude.  She helps me locate my bus stop. We part and I forget her.

7.30 hours

Image Credits: Ewha Womans University

I am busy looking for my hostel,the I-house. Ewha is big and confusing. It is hard to ask for help because the ladies are hiding in earphones. Some pass without a word afraid of this black guy who might possibly kidnap them. Finally a gracious lady from Phillipines offers help. I get my entry card, take an elevator to second floor. I am home. I take a cool shower before busking in settle mode .

I message my  buddies to tell them I am around. And that I have brought them some copies of the Bridge Magazine, our latest publication.






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