sybarites

We weren’t planning to visit the Demilitarized Zone, but we were told it was the thing to do in South Korea. I expected to simply peer across the ceasefire line from a safe and secure concrete bunker instead of crossing the ceasefire line in an area where North Korean soldiers may enter at any moment.

I felt pretty safe throughout the experience. When we entered the UN building that crossed the ceasefire line there were two guards covering the door on the North Korean side. We only saw one North Korean far in the distance but were advised that the North Koreans were watching from the guard towers.

Tourists are photographed by The North for propaganda, so conservative dress was required and communicating with North Korean soldiers was not allowed in any way, including pointing, gesturing or making faces. The intimidation factor is interesting: the Republic of Korea soldiers (ROC soldiers) wear tinted glasses as part of the standard uniform and have ball bearings sewn into the cuff of their trousers so that when they march, it sounds like a larger contingent.

We did stop at a couple of safe lookout points later. One had a good view of what the South Koreans call Propaganda Village, a constructed set of homes and apartment buildings which try to make The North look prosperous. We were told that no one lived there and the four story buildings did not even have floors. The village had one of the largest flag poles and flags in the world. The flag weighs over 600 pounds when dry. It has to be taken down in bad weather and must be replaced four times a year because it starts to tear under it’s own weight.

The other lookout was much larger and is outside the DMZ. A large amphitheater faced a wall of windows which looked far into North Korea. South Koreans go to this observatory on holidays to think about relatives who are still in The North. We could see the Kaesong Industrial Complex where South Korean companies are working with the North in a goodwill program.

After the DMZ, I returned to the War Memorial and Museum with Janet. She hadn’t been interested in going the first time, but my enthusiastic descriptions brought us back. The main building houses a museum and a list of the people who died in the war, including a small section for Canadians.

Artillery and vehicles from the last 50 years cover the surrounding grounds. Most were from the Korean and Vietnam wars, but there was also a SCUD missile recovered during the Gulf War. In places there are so many missiles and tanks one can hardly tell where one ends and the next starts.

I’m down to one Korean meal a day. I’m really sick of eating kimchi, which the Koreans seem to eat three times a day without fail. When eating ‘ethnic’ food they must have an ‘ethnic’ substitution such as a bowl of sliced pickles with a pizza or a small seaweed salad with sushi.

When I want burgers, I want Lotteria. Most of the burgers have a Korean twist, but they’ve also out-done the West with some of our own ingredients, such as with my favorite, the European Frico Cheese Burger.

Take a slice of good cheese, bread it, fry it and insert it as an extra patty = absolutely brilliant. How could North America have overlooked this? Also included is a slice of yellow pepper and black olives. I’m not a fan of olives, even on pizza, but it’s great on this burger. A few other noteworthy Lotteria burgers:

• Kimchi Burger: Janet likes this one, a breaded patty of spicy cabbage.
• Bulgogi Burger: A giant patty of famous Korean BBQ.
• BBQ Paprika Burger: The sauce is quite good on this double patty burger.
• Chuncheon Dakgalbi Burger: More of a typical chicken burger than the spectacle of dakgalbi.

Of course, the local interpretations can be less pleasing. Potatoes on pizza are popular. The last pizza we had included a ribbon of rubbery cheese with mashed sweet potato piped on top. At least the traditional ingredients in the middle were good.

It’s easy to say that we’ve been enjoying our trip through Korea. Between the beaches, the mountains, the food and the exceptionally friendly people, we have more than once commented to each other how glad we are we came here and what a good time we’re having. (We still find the time to complain about the weather, though. Lately, it has been blisteringly hot in Gyeongju, near the Southeastern coastline, after the visit of a typhoon. I can’t remember ever sweating so much—lovely image, I’m sure.)

Last week, we visited Samcheok and a local park for which the region is famous. Officially, legend has it that a young woman died on the rocky coast during a storm because her betrothed was unable to rescue her in his fishing boat. After that episode, the whole village suffered bad luck and were only successful in fishing after erecting phalluses in the hills above the village to appease the tormented spirit of the unwed maiden. As luck would have it, not only was the maiden quieted in nasty behaviour, but tourists pay good money to see these things and they arrive by the busload. Because we are tourists, we visited and found what we expected; no festival but lots of other tourists and some big wood.

Today, in Gyeongju, we escape the midday heat in the air-conditioned lounge/kitchen of our hostel. This place, Sae Rang Chae, was great find (thanks to “The Book” as it is adjacent to a large historical park known for its timuli (1000 yr. old burial mounds of past rulers) and offers a taste of local lifestyle; our room is part of the living quarters that surround a central courtyard and garden, with rice paper doors and ondol beds (mats used to sleep on the floor). This is also probably the friendliest place we’ve stayed though it turns out that a hang-over can be made exceedingly worse when suffered in sweltering heat.

We were also lucky in our visit to this place with the food, one restaurant in particular. For dinner one evening, we walked next door to a courtyard restaurant which our host had recommended. They only had one thing on offer, a small Korean banquet, so we indicated that we wanted enough for two. Minutes later, we were presented with 14 different dishes, not including rice and some kind of grain-flavoured, watery beverage. Even after tasting a bit of each, we still couldn’t identify half of what we were eating (i.e. small animal bones in a stew) but were pleased with it nonetheless and barely made a dent in the quantity of food before we were full. I am choked that we forgot to bring the camera and were too lazy to fetch it.

Yesterday, we tourist-ed My Favourite Temple So Far. Bulguksa , originally built in 528 C.E. is a World Heritage Site (I think this is the 5th or 6th WHS we’ve visited?) and has been beautifully restored. They say ancient Korean architecture is unique relative to Chinese or Japanese structures because it purposely incorporates natural elements of the landscape in the design of buidings; I think that’s why this temple seemed particularly attractive to my eyes.

And really, we couldn’t have picked a more clear or sunny a day to visit. Or a hotter day. We jokingly call each other ‘stupid foreigners’ whenever we have a cultural revelation, but we really played the part yesterday when we dedicded to skip the shuttle bus ride to the temple’s grotto at the top of a ridge and, instead, trudge our way up 3.5km in smoldering heat. Funny—we didn’t see anyone else walking up… Stupid foreigners.

Janet had nearly convinced me to give up on coffee until we returned to Seoul. The five dollar cappuccini made from water and powder were less than satisfying and a waste of our funds. The Lonely Planet Guide, usually referred to as “The Book”, recommended a coffee shop in Gyeongju called Clara & Schumann. Although it stated the place was for coffee lovers, we weren’t even sure it served espresso.

We arrived sweaty after a long walk in the heat. My macchiatto was on par with the Blue Bottle Company in San Francisco, the best I’d ever had. However, the whole experience was outstanding. The owners seemed to know more about coffee than anyone I’ve ever met. They didn’t speak much English, but they went to extremes to ensure we they had the best coffee and everything complimented the coffee. It didn’t hurt that they gave us a lot of free stuff to enhance our experience.

On the first day we polished our first cups off too quickly, so we were brought cups of a mild coffee almost like tea. It was thin and weaker than I’m used to, which I would normally associate with bad coffee, but these people are very deliberate.

Besides the usual cappuccinos and lattes, one can select from dozens of beans which are ground specifically for the order. However, prices are different depending on the coffee and how strong you want it. Rather than using a machine, water is poured by hand over the grounds and the water tempurature is closely monitored. The Wedgwood cups were nice too. I’m glad I didn’t break one.

On the second day, my macchiatto was not the best compliment for the cheesecake we ordered so I was brought an espresso. Later, we were given Double Toast, two inch thick toast with butter and jam. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed butter. On the third day we were brought complimentary cappuccinos for no particular reason.

Yesterday, we spent an hour standing on a hot bus full of old ladies while driving down twisting mountain roads. When we finally arrived we found that our “beach surrounded by dramatic cliffs” was a dirty strip of sand in the harbour more frequented by seagulls than tourists. At least we learned a few things about the local bus system in Samcheok.

Today’s bus foray was more successful—our destination was as described and we sat for the entire journey. Hwanseongul is the largest cave system in East Asia. We expected a lot more stalactites, but the grandeur of the spaces more than made up for it.

After walking 35 minutes uphill, we started to feel cool air flowing down the mountain from the cave. The hike was exhausting in the heat, but the 10ºC temperature of the cave interior quickly refreshed us. Of course, the cave took my mind off of any lingering weariness. I was looking around agog half the time.

A 1.6 kilometer steel pathway was build around the interior to show the caves most interesting sites and views. In the picture you can see the colored lights that lined part of the path. We were standing on top of a large rock looking down through the cavern. The stalactite in the upper right was dripping water onto the floor far below. Most of the floor was covered with pools, streams and water falls.

Each room that ventured of the main path had one ore more interesting features. This is just one 20 foot section of the wall above a small pool. We couldn’t get a good picture of the “bacon” formation which hung in a strip from the roof nearby.

Hwansoelgul would have made Korea worthwhile for me had we needed another justification.

After all the stomach stretching and exercise at Chuncheon, we hopped on the bus for our coastal destination of Sokcho.   The ride along curvy roads was shorter than we expected and we had arrived and found a motel by lunch time.  Lucky for us, we were staying at a place 3 blocks from the beach and a 25 minute bus ride to Seoraksan National Park, one of the most beautiful in the country – so we’re told.   We had also been told to avoid going in July because not only is it the rainy season, but it is also the high-season for crowds.   The rainy part was true enough because it has pretty much rained every day we’ve been in Korea, however, I don’t think this “high season” has started yet.   Places here seem to be eerily closed and the streets kind of empty, like a town at the beginning of a Stephen King novel.

Our first day was spent being lazy on the beach.  I don’t know how we got so lucky as to get a full day of sun with a light breeze off the water.   It was a Monday, too, so while most people were at work (suckers) we almost had the beach to ourselves.

We are now no longer as white as we once were.   We’re kind of red right now, actually;  no more beach days for awhile.

Anyway, we wanted to test out the hiking in the area so, today, took advantage of the cooler, overcast weather and headed for the hills.  Indeed, it is a beautiful park, not unlike the Alberta national parks, but it must be spectacular in the autumn when the trees are turning.

One thing that was fairly different than what I’m used to while hiking is the restaurants.     We hiked a couple of different routes and each was interrupted by a restaurant every 1.5km or so.   It was odd, to round a bend and come across a couple dozen tables set up outdoors adjacent to a fully functioning kitchen, freezers of ice cream, fridges full of pop and beer and Korean pop music drifting out into the wilderness.  Even the chipmunks must know the lyrics by now.

I’m not entirely sure why we stopped in Chuncheon. The guide book author made a passing remark about eating there and it was on the way to our next destination. We found a nice motel room with a balcony, run by a friendly young couple. Note: a motel does not mean a room with an exterior entrance, as it often does in North America. Motel is an inexpensive hotel catering to young couples, and married men with their mistresses. They are generally not sketchy, but don’t ask for a twin.

One of the ‘must do’ activities in Chuncheon is to eat dakgalbi, spicy chicken. An entire street is devoted to dakgalbi restaurants. As soon as we stepped onto the street, a woman came and pulled at Janet’s arm and started talking quickly in Korean to lead us to her restaurant, thus thwarting my plan to look around before selecting a restaurant. We followed her in and our usual menu challenges were absent as the woman simple asked, “Two?” When eating on this street you are eating dakgalbi.

The stove was lit below our enormous personal cast iron skillet and hurriedly filled with a mountain of half-frozen chicken, gnocchi-like pasta, spicy sauce, cabbage and a few other vegetables. It all cooked down to a small mound, but we were still unable to finish it or the compulsory set of kim chi that accompanies every meal. We were also provided with aprons to keep our clothes clean. My apron was spotless, my shirt was not. Somehow, four spots of hot sauce avoided the plaid barrier to hit their target, my white shirt. The meal was tasty and filling, especially with a bottle of soju to wash it down with.

Fueled with dakgalbi from the previous night, we rented bicycles to casually bike around the lake. Not content with the scenery near the city, we headed south toward the countryside. Two wrong turns, a poor map and some not-so-helpful directions lead us up a series of hills. At one point we cycled over a hill to a dead end in a rice paddy. We never made it to our rural destination, but we did manage to find a pleasant and flat path on our return.

In 2002, at the FIFA World Cup co-hosted by Korea and Japan, the South Korean underdog team placed fourth in the tournament, much to the surprise and ecstatic delight of millions of Korean fans. At this year’s tournament, the most common slogans on T-shirts in Korea is “Again 2002!”; they don’t hope to win, necessarily, they just want the giddy madness of competing in the tournament.

Four days after arriving in Seoul, we had the chance to watch a World Cup match between South Korea and Switzerland. We couldn’t have missed it as it was advertised everywhere- billboards, subway stations, TV, posters – and even though we are new tourists in this country and can barely speak a word of the language, there was no doubt as to when they were playing, who the enemy was and what was expected of the team: “Dae Ham Min Guk!” (“Go, Republic of Korea!”)

We had met a Canadian couple while we were in Taiwan and we had kept in touch since then. Sara had returned to Korea for her job teaching English and we callled when we arrived to arrange to meet up with her to watch the match. The catch was that the kick-off was at 4:00am. Our guesthouse is in the suburbs of the city, at least a one-hour metro ride from City Hall, where they had set up a stage and a big-screen TV and where nearly a million people were expected to gather that Friday night. (The city has a population that is nearly equal to half the population of Canada.) Because the metro would stop running at 2:00am, we had the option of trying to catch a taxi at 3:00am in order to make it down there in time for the start, or to meet just after midnight and stay out all night before watching the match. We’re lightweights when it comes to staying up late but how could we pass up this opportunity to join the hooligans in their hooliganery and actually participate in World Cup madness?

We bought two Korea football jerseys (though I wish we had bought the ones that, in English, said: “Reds, Go Together!”) and had a few drinks with our guesthouse-mates before it was time to leave. Marc didn’t make it.

I met Sara and her friend Krista at the party/bar zone near Hongik University downtown at 12:45. They were decked out not only with jerseys, but with bandanas, tattoos and glowing red horns, as was everyone else in the area. People in red swarmed out of the subways and were mashed into the streets; cars stopped driving – except the trucks and jeeps filled with fans that were cruising the neighbourhood and chanting; the bars were full and people were drinking in the streets. This marked my first occasiom to drink soju, a powerful Korean vodka. Actually, we were drinking Coke and soju, which the Koreans we met referred to as “Coso”. Anyway, we weren’t the only ones partying all night, hopping from bar to bar and cheering with strangers, waiting for the game to start. The chanting got louder and more frequent the closer we got to game time. When the Korean national anthem played at the beginning of the broadcast, it could’ve been four in the afternoon for the tireless enthusiasm of everyone within viewing distance.

In the end, we watched Korea lose on a big-screen set up in the street (we never made it to city hall) with a thousand disappointed fans and a thousand tired people who had thought World Cup fever was fun but were ready to stagger home after the sunrise. They may be out of the tournament, but that doesn’t seem to have stopped people for cheering for their team.