What had been, up until this point a bit of a laugh became altogether more serious as we stepped through South Korea’s gleaming propaganda palace, Freedom House. Directly in front are the huts, T1-T3, straddling the border, and beyond those Panmun-guk, North Korea’s propaganda palace, apparently never used. A frisson accompanies the realisation there is a proper, North Korean soldier standing outside, and he’s looking STRAIGHT AT YOU with his binoculars. There is a strong urge to shy away from this direct scrutiny. On cue, autumnal leaves are swept across the tarmac by the breeze. Proper scary, like the time we went ring-boarding in Crete.