To those of you that were sharp enough to catch my update on Friday, apologies for the total mess the text and photos were in. I've reformatted it by changing the date and time info so that all the photos and text pertaining to a particular epsiode are now together. The only caveat with this is to ignore the dates as they appear in the blog...they're all at least a day or two out now...feel free to go back and read everything in the right order.
Laters...got some lounging to do...
October 23, 2004
Hello from the Philippines
Hi everyone...apologies to those of you who've been waiting for an update on my Korean adventures...all here now complete with photos. After two days without sleep or washing facilities - including a night spent in an internet cafe (cheaper than a hotel) - I am now relaxing in some style in an extremely beautiful place.
Tomorrow I start my PADI Open Water scuba certificate....
Boracay kicks ass!
ps. I'll finish writing up Korea tonight and post it up tomorrow...it's so nice to have wireless broadband, a roman alphabet and english-speaking internet cafe staff!!
Tomorrow I start my PADI Open Water scuba certificate....
Boracay kicks ass!
ps. I'll finish writing up Korea tonight and post it up tomorrow...it's so nice to have wireless broadband, a roman alphabet and english-speaking internet cafe staff!!
October 22, 2004
Buddha's Name Be Praised - at least one person will get this...;-)
Wednesday morning in Gyeongju started off in extremely disorienting fashion. I drifted into consciousness to the sound of a howling gale and rain lashing against the windows. Suddenly, I jolted awake, wondering what time I was supposed to be at work and whether I'd slept through the alarm. As I looked around my little ondol room (complete with neolithic television!), I realised that I wasn't back in Blighty...just that the weather had turned a bit rotten in Korea (Turns out that this was the back end of a rather nasty typhoon that had thrashed Japan the night before.)
Wet and windy it was, though not cold - and I was determined not to let a bit of water stop me from heading off to the two Unesco world heritage sites I had planned to see. Bulguksa temple and the Seokurram grotto, were both commissioned during the 9th Century by the Silla kings of the time, in honour of their parents in former lives.
The foul weather was actually a blessing in disguise...with the unseasonally heavy rain and, for Koreans at least, biting winds, the number of screaming schoolkids was significantly reduced. Believe me, when you make it Seokurram, this can only be a good thing. The skill and craftmanship that went into the grotto belies the fact that the stonemasons responsible for carving it, were at the height of their skills over 100 years before William the Conqueror and his Norman chums were beating seven shades out of Harold at Hastings. The intricacy and detail of the Buddha and surrounding deities is incredible...and even more astounding when you consider that they were carved out of the solid granite of the actual rock face. Carving granite is notoriously difficult...add to it the pressure of only having one attempt (unless they started delving another grotto from scratch) and the craftmanship is truly noteworthy. Technicalities aside, the grotto is an intense experience. While I don't have an intimate knowledge or belief in buddhism and its deities, I found it hard not tot feel a latent power in the place. The Buddha, seated in the lotus position, gave off an air of impassive serenity...one that had survived over 1200 years and successive invasions by the Japanese. I stood in an almost trance-like state, soaking up the positive vibes and feeling tension draining from my mountain-weary muscles. Seokurram is a must-see for any visitor to Korea...much more so as photos aren't allowed and to appreciate it, you really need to see it in the flesh.
After a very pleasant lunch of fish cake in soup - akin to a crabstick pancake, chopped up and floating in a light vegetable broth - I caught the bus back to Bulguksa to explore the restored site of the 9th Century buddhist temple.
The size and layout of the site, is in itself a feat of engineering - with water troughs and channels intersecting the twenty or so buildings in their beautiful landscaped gardens. The major buildings are dedicated to the different forms of Buddha and are still used by modern-day monks and nuns in their daily prayer. Taking photos in these buildings was again off-limits - but you can see from the other photos, some of the sheer scale and minute detail of the ancient building.
Gyeongju had been a fascinating insight into ancient Korea and I would love to spend some more time exploring the wider local area. Perhaps I'll get an opportunity to spend a lot more time looking into all of the country's interesting nooks and crannies...the thought of coming back here (possibly to teach English) is appealing. The people are friendly and welcoming; the food, different but delicious; the scenery, breathtaking and enchanting; and the cultural history, as rich as anywhere in the world. The public transport (including the super-fast train that took me back to Seoul!) is ridiculously cheap and very reliable - making getting around a pleasure rather than an arduous necessity. Anybody wanting to get a full flavour of Asia on their travels, would be foolish not to come to Korea. Annyeong-hi gyeseyo.
Wet and windy it was, though not cold - and I was determined not to let a bit of water stop me from heading off to the two Unesco world heritage sites I had planned to see. Bulguksa temple and the Seokurram grotto, were both commissioned during the 9th Century by the Silla kings of the time, in honour of their parents in former lives.
The foul weather was actually a blessing in disguise...with the unseasonally heavy rain and, for Koreans at least, biting winds, the number of screaming schoolkids was significantly reduced. Believe me, when you make it Seokurram, this can only be a good thing. The skill and craftmanship that went into the grotto belies the fact that the stonemasons responsible for carving it, were at the height of their skills over 100 years before William the Conqueror and his Norman chums were beating seven shades out of Harold at Hastings. The intricacy and detail of the Buddha and surrounding deities is incredible...and even more astounding when you consider that they were carved out of the solid granite of the actual rock face. Carving granite is notoriously difficult...add to it the pressure of only having one attempt (unless they started delving another grotto from scratch) and the craftmanship is truly noteworthy. Technicalities aside, the grotto is an intense experience. While I don't have an intimate knowledge or belief in buddhism and its deities, I found it hard not tot feel a latent power in the place. The Buddha, seated in the lotus position, gave off an air of impassive serenity...one that had survived over 1200 years and successive invasions by the Japanese. I stood in an almost trance-like state, soaking up the positive vibes and feeling tension draining from my mountain-weary muscles. Seokurram is a must-see for any visitor to Korea...much more so as photos aren't allowed and to appreciate it, you really need to see it in the flesh.
After a very pleasant lunch of fish cake in soup - akin to a crabstick pancake, chopped up and floating in a light vegetable broth - I caught the bus back to Bulguksa to explore the restored site of the 9th Century buddhist temple.
The size and layout of the site, is in itself a feat of engineering - with water troughs and channels intersecting the twenty or so buildings in their beautiful landscaped gardens. The major buildings are dedicated to the different forms of Buddha and are still used by modern-day monks and nuns in their daily prayer. Taking photos in these buildings was again off-limits - but you can see from the other photos, some of the sheer scale and minute detail of the ancient building.
Gyeongju had been a fascinating insight into ancient Korea and I would love to spend some more time exploring the wider local area. Perhaps I'll get an opportunity to spend a lot more time looking into all of the country's interesting nooks and crannies...the thought of coming back here (possibly to teach English) is appealing. The people are friendly and welcoming; the food, different but delicious; the scenery, breathtaking and enchanting; and the cultural history, as rich as anywhere in the world. The public transport (including the super-fast train that took me back to Seoul!) is ridiculously cheap and very reliable - making getting around a pleasure rather than an arduous necessity. Anybody wanting to get a full flavour of Asia on their travels, would be foolish not to come to Korea. Annyeong-hi gyeseyo.
October 21, 2004
Gyeongju by the old coast road
An early start to catch the 6.00 express bus to Gyeongju…and another morning of breathtaking scenery and a more realistic insight to the daily lives of rural Koreans. For much of the journey, the road hugged the rocky coastline. Many times the road seemed to fall away in front as the terrain tumbled into a foam-capped and churning sea. Rugged cliffs rising to steep mountains dominated the horizon and made the route long and circuitous. Off to the west, I occasionally caught a glimpse of the West coast highway under construction. For your average Korean, going about daily business, I’m sure the ability to get to the south in 3hrs instead of 5 ½ will be welcomed. It’s a shame though that, soon, the bus will no longer follow the scenic route I saw. Talking of average Koreans, I saw a lot more of the daily rural life. The bus passed through many small towns and skirted some of the big cities en route. Many of the conurbations were extremely run down – dirty with trash piled everywhere. Amidst this, countless wizened old men and (mainly) women toiled around with buckets and bags of fresh fruit and veg…occasionally, one would jump on the bus for a stop, lugging their own weight in bean sprouts or potatoes up the steps. Often you’d see someone shuffling across the road – burdenless, but still bent double over a walking stick…frozen in the position they had been forced to assume all their lives. Once again, the lack of a welfare state seemed to be putting unfair demands on these people who’d done nothing but work all their lives. Retirement…what’s that?
I arrived in Gyeongju shortly after twelve and, after sorting my accommodation and onward train ticket to Seoul, immediately went in search of…yes…food ;-) Incidentally, my yeogwan (cheapguesthouse) cost just £6.50 for the night for which I got a small ondol room with sleeping mat, pillow, duvet and 1 channel tv. There was also a tiny adjoining (private) bathroom with loo and cold shower…you get what you pay for, but, again, I was totally satisfied.
For lunch I had a traditional Korean hot plate meal, which is effectively a large pan of noodle soup with fresh veg and chopped meat cooked (by you!) at your table. Exceedingly filling and very tasty. For the last couple of days, I’d got into the habit of asking the waiting staff to recommend something. This may seem a little risky, given the Korean love of spicy food. However, they are, if anything, over-cautious in this respect and the strategy has yet to let me down. After lunch, I made a bee-line for the Gyeongju national museum. Gyeongju was the capital of Korea during the reign of the Silla dynasty – the first to unite the entire peninsula under one banner. The level of skill exhibited by their craftsmen and builders is incredible…particularly in the intricacy of their gold and jade jewellery and their early use of iron armour to protect both themselves and their horses (4th and 5th Centuries, respectively). These and other incredible artefacts were recovered from the tumuli of ancient kings and queens that litter the southern end and surrounding districts of the city. Many of the finds from Gyeongju are part of the Korean National Treasure scheme, which aims to preserve the ancient roots of the country’s great cultures. Once again, the pesky schoolkids were out in hordes, screaming and generally causing a nuisance (am I getting old?). Eventually, I took a walk back into town via Cheomseongdae and the Tumuli Park. Cheomseongdae is the Far East’s oldest astrological observatory. Back in 632 AD, while we Brits were grubbing around in the Dark Ages and being quashed by the Saxons, the relative stability of the Silla empire was building a tower to observe the passage of time using the stars. It’s alignment to certain stars and the number of stone blocks that went into its construction were all meticulously calculated…and the fact that it still stands there today is enough proof of its structural integrity. The Tumuli Park is an attractive and (occasionally) peaceful parkland that has been cultivated around 23 of the Silla burial mounds from which so many treasured artefacts have been recovered. Their construction is unique to the Silla dynasty prior to the unification of the kingdoms and was well designed to protect the bodies and their finery from grave robbers. One, Cheonmachong, has been excavated in cross section to allow visitors to see the internal construction.
A dinner of buckwheat noodles with vegetables and beef rounded off the day, followed by a few well-earned beers whilst working on my journal in my room. Tip for all the fellas: More so than spaghetti, avoid buckwheat noodles when taking a lady for a meal. Not only do they flop around flicking sauce all over your best shirt like their Italian cousin, they are also remarkably elastic and extremely resistant to being bitten through. The two choices of allowing them to fly back to the plate or continue to dangle from your mouth should not be considered whilst in polite company…
I arrived in Gyeongju shortly after twelve and, after sorting my accommodation and onward train ticket to Seoul, immediately went in search of…yes…food ;-) Incidentally, my yeogwan (cheapguesthouse) cost just £6.50 for the night for which I got a small ondol room with sleeping mat, pillow, duvet and 1 channel tv. There was also a tiny adjoining (private) bathroom with loo and cold shower…you get what you pay for, but, again, I was totally satisfied.
For lunch I had a traditional Korean hot plate meal, which is effectively a large pan of noodle soup with fresh veg and chopped meat cooked (by you!) at your table. Exceedingly filling and very tasty. For the last couple of days, I’d got into the habit of asking the waiting staff to recommend something. This may seem a little risky, given the Korean love of spicy food. However, they are, if anything, over-cautious in this respect and the strategy has yet to let me down. After lunch, I made a bee-line for the Gyeongju national museum. Gyeongju was the capital of Korea during the reign of the Silla dynasty – the first to unite the entire peninsula under one banner. The level of skill exhibited by their craftsmen and builders is incredible…particularly in the intricacy of their gold and jade jewellery and their early use of iron armour to protect both themselves and their horses (4th and 5th Centuries, respectively). These and other incredible artefacts were recovered from the tumuli of ancient kings and queens that litter the southern end and surrounding districts of the city. Many of the finds from Gyeongju are part of the Korean National Treasure scheme, which aims to preserve the ancient roots of the country’s great cultures. Once again, the pesky schoolkids were out in hordes, screaming and generally causing a nuisance (am I getting old?). Eventually, I took a walk back into town via Cheomseongdae and the Tumuli Park. Cheomseongdae is the Far East’s oldest astrological observatory. Back in 632 AD, while we Brits were grubbing around in the Dark Ages and being quashed by the Saxons, the relative stability of the Silla empire was building a tower to observe the passage of time using the stars. It’s alignment to certain stars and the number of stone blocks that went into its construction were all meticulously calculated…and the fact that it still stands there today is enough proof of its structural integrity. The Tumuli Park is an attractive and (occasionally) peaceful parkland that has been cultivated around 23 of the Silla burial mounds from which so many treasured artefacts have been recovered. Their construction is unique to the Silla dynasty prior to the unification of the kingdoms and was well designed to protect the bodies and their finery from grave robbers. One, Cheonmachong, has been excavated in cross section to allow visitors to see the internal construction.
A dinner of buckwheat noodles with vegetables and beef rounded off the day, followed by a few well-earned beers whilst working on my journal in my room. Tip for all the fellas: More so than spaghetti, avoid buckwheat noodles when taking a lady for a meal. Not only do they flop around flicking sauce all over your best shirt like their Italian cousin, they are also remarkably elastic and extremely resistant to being bitten through. The two choices of allowing them to fly back to the plate or continue to dangle from your mouth should not be considered whilst in polite company…
October 20, 2004
Spelunking in Donghae
Sounds rude I know, but trust me, I just went down a cave. After the luxury of a lie-in at Oseaek, I finally caught the bus down the coast around 2pm. The main intention was to cut a bit off the journey to Gyeongju, but the thought of heading down the limestone cavern of Cheonggokdonggul had also piqued my interest. As you can see from the photos, there were some pretty crazy formations down there…strange to think that they’ve taken tens of thousands of years to form, sculpted only by the pressure and then continual drip of water. It was worth the detour just for the cave, but dinner made Donghae an exceptional choice. Another barbeque meal – this time with beef and crab – at a restaurant called Koryeojeong. Surrounded at the end of the meal by about 20 empty dishes and one lonely looking barbeque grill, I felt like a conquering king surveying the aftermath of battle. The bill (accompanied by a tankard of sweet rice wine) came to £10…
October 19, 2004
Breakfast in the Mountains followed by a hot Spa and luxury hotel
Sleeping in a mountain shelter in Korea is not something I’d recommend to anyone who is a) taller than 5’6”; b) wider than a knitting needle; c) not partial to unpleasant smells; d) claustrophobic or e) liable to overheating. Given that claustrophobia is the only one not applicable to me, you can safely assume that it was an interesting night. Fortunately, I had a window birth so was able to do something about c and e…otherwise, I fear I may have smothered and sweated to death. What I couldn’t believe were the number of people snuggled up in four season sleeping bags, fully-clothed and not a bead of sweat in sight! Suffice to say, the motto of mountain shelters in this neck of the woods is ‘Pack ‘em in and pile ‘em high’. Still for the princely sum of £2.50 and the lack of hassle of pitching a tent, I was not complaining.
The following morning, whilst cooking noodles for breakfast, my stove again drew some attention. Two Seoulites, whose own noodles (purchased from the shelter staff) were not hot enough, asked if they might use my stove to reheat them. This certainly wasn’t a problem as far as I was concerned and as we waited for them to heat through, I got talking to one of them. At the age of 62, it turned out, he had boarded a bus at 10pm the previous evening in Seoul, which had brought him an his companions to Osaek for 2am. At this point they had set out up the peak (which had thus far defeated me) and walked through the night to my shelter. After breakfast, they were to head down to my start-point of Seorak-dong for about 3pm, where their coach would pick them up and take them home. Sixty-two years old! At an age where many people in our country are happy to mince around in Bognor Regis, receive honours from the Queen or take cruises round the Baltic, the Koreans are keeping the spirit of the outdoor life well and truly alive. Over the course of my two days in the park, I saw countless wizened elders hauling their doubled-over forms up and down steep mountain tracks. Amazing people…Mr. Kang, for that was his name, and I talked for about half an hour – about the differences and similarities between our two countries and cultures. I had at some point expressed an interest in returning to Korea, perhaps to teach English. At the end of our conversation, as he was about to continue his trek, he pulled out a business card and asked me to call him if I ever did come back to Korea…he might be able to help me out with accommodation or in some other way. I was totally gobsmacked! I say it right now…the Koreans are the salt of the earth. I had done as little as to heat up some noodles on my stove and this man was offering to return the favour a thousand-fold. I was touched - and genuinely sad that our paths lay in opposite directions.
With this positive start to the day, I set off up the trail with a bounce in my stride. The sun was back in business and the physical exertions of the previous day seemed to fade like all bad memories. The mountain scenery was, again, breath-taking and the hike felt easy once again. However, after an hour of pure unadulterated climb, I was beginning to remember. Fortunately, this was pretty much it as far as going up was concerned. I ‘summitted’ (sorry, been reading Jon Krakenauer’s ‘Into Thin Air’ and the Himalayan terminology is infectious) at around 11.30 and felt triumphant. This feeling slowly dissipated over the course of the following 2 ½ hours, as the steep, gruelling descent took its toll on my overladen thighs and calves. By the end, every step was agony and the sight of Osaek nestling in the valley at the foot of the mountain was most welcome.
At this point, after my arduous mountain experiences, I was fully in need of some luxury and pampering. My ‘budget traveller in Asia’ status, took a long walk off a short pier and I booked myself in to the Osaek Green Yard Hotsprings Hotel. This deluxe spa, hosting the premier carbonated hot springs in the world, is top of the list of luxury hotels. I took a palatal suite of three bedrooms, kitchenette and bathroom – all for the princely sum of £40…and immediately got naked with a bunch of strangers as I introduced myself to the idea of carbonated hot water. Not sure about the beneficial effects to health – most of which were phrased in Hangeul (and thus totally indecipherable), but the soothing effect of the hot, slightly effervescent water on my screaming muscles was nothing short of pure bliss.
The following morning, whilst cooking noodles for breakfast, my stove again drew some attention. Two Seoulites, whose own noodles (purchased from the shelter staff) were not hot enough, asked if they might use my stove to reheat them. This certainly wasn’t a problem as far as I was concerned and as we waited for them to heat through, I got talking to one of them. At the age of 62, it turned out, he had boarded a bus at 10pm the previous evening in Seoul, which had brought him an his companions to Osaek for 2am. At this point they had set out up the peak (which had thus far defeated me) and walked through the night to my shelter. After breakfast, they were to head down to my start-point of Seorak-dong for about 3pm, where their coach would pick them up and take them home. Sixty-two years old! At an age where many people in our country are happy to mince around in Bognor Regis, receive honours from the Queen or take cruises round the Baltic, the Koreans are keeping the spirit of the outdoor life well and truly alive. Over the course of my two days in the park, I saw countless wizened elders hauling their doubled-over forms up and down steep mountain tracks. Amazing people…Mr. Kang, for that was his name, and I talked for about half an hour – about the differences and similarities between our two countries and cultures. I had at some point expressed an interest in returning to Korea, perhaps to teach English. At the end of our conversation, as he was about to continue his trek, he pulled out a business card and asked me to call him if I ever did come back to Korea…he might be able to help me out with accommodation or in some other way. I was totally gobsmacked! I say it right now…the Koreans are the salt of the earth. I had done as little as to heat up some noodles on my stove and this man was offering to return the favour a thousand-fold. I was touched - and genuinely sad that our paths lay in opposite directions.
With this positive start to the day, I set off up the trail with a bounce in my stride. The sun was back in business and the physical exertions of the previous day seemed to fade like all bad memories. The mountain scenery was, again, breath-taking and the hike felt easy once again. However, after an hour of pure unadulterated climb, I was beginning to remember. Fortunately, this was pretty much it as far as going up was concerned. I ‘summitted’ (sorry, been reading Jon Krakenauer’s ‘Into Thin Air’ and the Himalayan terminology is infectious) at around 11.30 and felt triumphant. This feeling slowly dissipated over the course of the following 2 ½ hours, as the steep, gruelling descent took its toll on my overladen thighs and calves. By the end, every step was agony and the sight of Osaek nestling in the valley at the foot of the mountain was most welcome.
At this point, after my arduous mountain experiences, I was fully in need of some luxury and pampering. My ‘budget traveller in Asia’ status, took a long walk off a short pier and I booked myself in to the Osaek Green Yard Hotsprings Hotel. This deluxe spa, hosting the premier carbonated hot springs in the world, is top of the list of luxury hotels. I took a palatal suite of three bedrooms, kitchenette and bathroom – all for the princely sum of £40…and immediately got naked with a bunch of strangers as I introduced myself to the idea of carbonated hot water. Not sure about the beneficial effects to health – most of which were phrased in Hangeul (and thus totally indecipherable), but the soothing effect of the hot, slightly effervescent water on my screaming muscles was nothing short of pure bliss.
October 18, 2004
I don’t know if you guys can see the different colours of the rainbow in my photo of the pre-dawn sky, but I couldn’t keep my chin off the floor as I watched it transform through many stages into the birth of the sun through a thick bank of cloud on the horizon. As the first glimpse of nascent day broke through, the deep red glow was like a touch-paper setting fire to the stratosphere. Truly, bloody amazing…and in complete contrast to the clear-sky dawn of the previous day. The locals were every bit as impressed – many bowing, waving and shouting as on the beach at Sokcho. At the Buddhist shrine, just of the peak, bells were chiming and monks chanting. Yet again, the mountains felt like a magical, fairytale place. Before heading back down, I fuelled up with an octopus and mountain leek pancake and a cup of fresh-ground coffee. Even for breakfast, the Koreans don’t wimp out on the chillies…I had to go back and ask for soy sauce without peppers as I broke into a full bead in the mountain-fresh air.
Back at ground-level, thoroughly energised by this fantastic start to the day, I was eager for the off. I stopped to pay my respects to Buddha and fill up my water bottles before caning off down the track for Dongchaebong. This peak is also known as Seorak and is at the very heart of the park. At 10km to the peak and 5km down the other side to Osaek, I was confident with my early start that I’d be able to push through to the other side in a day. This would leave me time to sample some of the sights of Inner Seorak, where there were supposed to be fewer tourists. The first 2km (on the flat) disappeared in no time and my confidence was soaring. However, I had failed to reckon with the sheer amount of up and down to come…and the ridiculous weight of my pack. After 8km in steadily worsening weather conditions, I was becoming genuinely exhausted and desperately seeking an alternative plan. The first mountain shelter I came to was full up for the night (how the hell a foreign tourist is supposed to book in advance, I’ll never know! The reservation line is Korean-speaking only) and I had to go a gruelling further two miles (including 900m of ascent) until I found a shelter with room. A local couple very kindly took pity on me when I was having no luck understanding the shelter staff…they kindly intervened and ensured that my spot was booked. Their helpful attitude towards a bemused, and obviously distressed, foreigner was entirely indicative of the attitude displayed by all Koreans…it’s a very welcoming place. It was only 1 o’clock in the afternoon, but I was bedraggled and knackered and I had no intention of taking another step. After a cup of hot tea, I noticed to my delight that many of the groups sat around the shelter were cooking on gas stoves. The signs around the park made it quite clear in three languages that there were to be no fires or cooking except in designated areas. Of course, the signs denoting the designated areas were only in Korean. Out came the Primas Himalayan Varifuel, MSR fuel bottle and Vango cookset. Cue mass excitement among the local ‘mountaineers’ (these could be distinguished from all the other elderly Koreans by means of the costumes I mentioned earlier). As I pumped the fuel bottle and whipped out my Zippo (Brother!) they stood waiting with bated breath. As is the way with liquid fuel stoves, the pre-heating coil took time to warm up. The flaring two foot yellow flames brought looks of sympathy from my audience and offers to use their natty little camping Gaz efforts. ‘Nay!’ I proclaimed, ‘Have patience, my good fellows!’ – actually, I didn’t…but in retrospect I wish I’d had the confidence to do so ;-) – sure enough, after a couple of minutes, the flames tightened into a hot, blue cone and, with a flourish I settled my pan of water on top. I actually got a round of applause and several of them came over to chat and discuss my thoughts on Korea.
Two pans of noodles and tinned tuna later, I was feeling remarkably upbeat in spite of my sorry physical state.
Back at ground-level, thoroughly energised by this fantastic start to the day, I was eager for the off. I stopped to pay my respects to Buddha and fill up my water bottles before caning off down the track for Dongchaebong. This peak is also known as Seorak and is at the very heart of the park. At 10km to the peak and 5km down the other side to Osaek, I was confident with my early start that I’d be able to push through to the other side in a day. This would leave me time to sample some of the sights of Inner Seorak, where there were supposed to be fewer tourists. The first 2km (on the flat) disappeared in no time and my confidence was soaring. However, I had failed to reckon with the sheer amount of up and down to come…and the ridiculous weight of my pack. After 8km in steadily worsening weather conditions, I was becoming genuinely exhausted and desperately seeking an alternative plan. The first mountain shelter I came to was full up for the night (how the hell a foreign tourist is supposed to book in advance, I’ll never know! The reservation line is Korean-speaking only) and I had to go a gruelling further two miles (including 900m of ascent) until I found a shelter with room. A local couple very kindly took pity on me when I was having no luck understanding the shelter staff…they kindly intervened and ensured that my spot was booked. Their helpful attitude towards a bemused, and obviously distressed, foreigner was entirely indicative of the attitude displayed by all Koreans…it’s a very welcoming place. It was only 1 o’clock in the afternoon, but I was bedraggled and knackered and I had no intention of taking another step. After a cup of hot tea, I noticed to my delight that many of the groups sat around the shelter were cooking on gas stoves. The signs around the park made it quite clear in three languages that there were to be no fires or cooking except in designated areas. Of course, the signs denoting the designated areas were only in Korean. Out came the Primas Himalayan Varifuel, MSR fuel bottle and Vango cookset. Cue mass excitement among the local ‘mountaineers’ (these could be distinguished from all the other elderly Koreans by means of the costumes I mentioned earlier). As I pumped the fuel bottle and whipped out my Zippo (Brother!) they stood waiting with bated breath. As is the way with liquid fuel stoves, the pre-heating coil took time to warm up. The flaring two foot yellow flames brought looks of sympathy from my audience and offers to use their natty little camping Gaz efforts. ‘Nay!’ I proclaimed, ‘Have patience, my good fellows!’ – actually, I didn’t…but in retrospect I wish I’d had the confidence to do so ;-) – sure enough, after a couple of minutes, the flames tightened into a hot, blue cone and, with a flourish I settled my pan of water on top. I actually got a round of applause and several of them came over to chat and discuss my thoughts on Korea.
Two pans of noodles and tinned tuna later, I was feeling remarkably upbeat in spite of my sorry physical state.
Mountain Dawn
Apart from a few minor disturbances by squirrels and falling leaves / twigs, I slept reasonably soundly through until about 3.15 – and felt well rested.
Got up about 4ish and decamped, taking all my rubbish with me and replacing the rocks I’d used to weigh down my pegs in the sand. As I strolled up to the cable car at 5.10, intent on being head of the queue to see the sunrise, I found that you have to get out of bed very early in the morning to catch the Koreans out. There were at least 100 people already waiting patiently for the doors to open for the 6.00 car. Fortunately, another great thing about Korean culture is the obsession with punctuality. I boarded the 6.10 car and was in my chosen spot on the eastern side of the peak in plenty of time to watch the sky catch fire.
Got up about 4ish and decamped, taking all my rubbish with me and replacing the rocks I’d used to weigh down my pegs in the sand. As I strolled up to the cable car at 5.10, intent on being head of the queue to see the sunrise, I found that you have to get out of bed very early in the morning to catch the Koreans out. There were at least 100 people already waiting patiently for the doors to open for the 6.00 car. Fortunately, another great thing about Korean culture is the obsession with punctuality. I boarded the 6.10 car and was in my chosen spot on the eastern side of the peak in plenty of time to watch the sky catch fire.
October 17, 2004
Back down in the village, with night fully drawn in, sneaking off down the track to my intended camping spot was no great drama. After ensconcing myself under the trees, about fifty yards off the track, I sat and waited for a while. As I grew accustomed to the quiet swaying of the trees in the wind, it became apparent that I was probably the only person left in the park. I pitched my tent (reasonably well in the dark!) on the sandbank of a dried-up water course and settled down to sleep at about 8.30.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)