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Japan and South Korea 2010

a travel blog by chertop

My sister Mary and I travel to Japan and South Korea
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The Seoul of Asia

Seoul, South Korea

November 6 Saturday
At 7:30am we left the hotel by bus for the DMZ, traveling out from Seoul into fields. Beside the expressway ran barbed wire which became higher as we drove north. Before we were allowed to enter the Demilitarized Zone, a soldier of the ROK (South Korea) came on the bus to check our passports – tall, young, unsmiling, in camouflage with white helmet and large sunglasses - he was one of what our guide described as "unhappy campers" sent to the front lines for their 24 month compulsory military service.
The milky smog obliterated the sun and any view from the observation point - which, ironically considering the weather, had a yellow line – no photos allowed from beyond it. So the only idea we got of the landscape, including the extensive mountains, was from a film and a relief model. The 2km-wide no man's land on either side of the Demarcation Line has become a refuge for wildlife – including deer and birds, and we saw a photo of fish swimming over old bullets lying in a stream.
Wearing bright yellow helmets, we descended into the Third Infiltration Tunnel, one of 4 underground passages discovered by the ROK and blamed on the North Koreans' attempt to get 30,000 soldiers a hour through the tunnel to attack Seoul, only 56 m away. An 11% grade heads steeply down to some 73 meters below the surface, a tunnel blasted thru granite with yellow splashes of paint marking the dynamite holes. The walls were apparently blackened by North Korea, the DRK claiming to be searching for coal. Cool, wet granite walls continued down to where a concrete barrier and steel blocked off the further reaches of the tunnel. I don't suffer from claustrophobia but began to feel nauseous so I climbed up slowly (the guide had told us the air is bad enough that they no longer station soldiers down there to ensure we tourists obey the rule of no picture-taking)... now cameras watch us.
We visited souvenir shops where people bought North Korean beer and shogu (a Vodka like drink), rice grown in the DMZ, and chocolate made with soybeans, then the bus took us to a government run shop with uniformed Korean women promoting Korean gingeng products. Offered a thimble cup of ginseng powder dissolved in liquid, I drank it and my stomach bean to recover.
An endless drive back thru crowded, gridlocked traffic of Seoul returned us to city center. The guide would not take us to our hotel, probably because of the traffic, but dropped us close to the palace ... we reached it just in time to watch a changing of the guard -traditionally garbed Korean nobility in stunning red and yellow court costumes. After the procession, we lunched in a Vietnamese noodle shop – anise-flavored broth and shaved beef.
Mary and I walked to a canal where there were festive lanterns of all sizes, some so big they occupied a whole float. Descending to the path along the water, we walked past ones illustrating Korean fairy tales, and aspects of countries participating in the current G20 summit, including kangaroos, Maori,and the Big Ben clock of London. Under a bridge kids were making paper lanterns to hang from the ceiling, the bridge protecting them from the elements.
Crossing the canal by big stepping stones, we ascended the stairs again and encountered a hardware district with many lighting shops brilliant with multi-colored lamps as twilight darkened the city. Then we ventured into a covered arcade resplendent with stalls of fabric, beads, traditional Korean attire , lace and bead headdresses worthy of Cher.
My legs ached and once we reached the subway, I wanted only to return to the hotel even if I had to make my way through the intimidating Seoul underground by myself. But, ironically, this turned out to be the very subway station where Jen, Den and Miriam were to meet us, in about an hour, to go to dinner. I sat on the floor, my calves against the cool hard floor of the station, writing in my notebook, while Mary went foraging for a coffee. I suddenly heard a man say “Hello, mama,” and I looked up. The man asked where I was going and where was I from. He left but, after Mary returned, he came back with 3 packages of “lunch” for us, which consisted of glutinous rice cakes and warm soy milk. As a thank you, Mary gave him the Canadian flag decoration from her handbag and he seemed very pleased with that.
Miriam arrived and seemed not to want anything to do with us crazy foreigners sitting on the ground as Koreans would apparently not do. She stayed at a distance except when I introduced her and our benefactor, John, who turned out to be a Baptist minister who could quote the Bible and count in Aramaic. Mary and I settled into enjoying the unexpected adventure of interacting with a local in a friendly way as we waited for Jen and Den to arrive. But Miriam figured people, including John, thought we were begging or homeless.
Upstairs in a Korean barbecue restaurant, the 5 of us sat on cushions on the floor. The waitress started a round barbecue at each end of the long table. We cooked black pork belly meat and ate it with a great array of side dishes, including rice and soup at the end of the meal.

Sunday November7
Mary and I headed for the palace where we walked through the gardens and looked into doorways and windows. Walls were partitions of white paper. In the grounds of the second palace, we walked around one of the ponds, luxuriating in the autumn colors and enjoying the beautiful Chinese mandarin ducks before their winter migration, colorful males with orange and teal, subtle-colored but gentle and elegant females. In the secret garden, amongst pavilions, ponds, and a 400-year-old mulberry tree, autumn colors were intense even with the city's milky haze.
We hiked to the subway, taking it to where we hiked steeply up the road, stairs and path to a Buddhist temple. At the Buddhist temple, a gray clad monk was ringing a somber big bell, striking it with a huge cylindrical log suspended horizontally. Inside the temple, a sacred place with the front wall a row of golden Buddhas above multi-colored petals of illuminated lotus flowers, red and green lanterns hung from the ceiling. A wall was composed of rows of small Buddhas in niches. I knelt to speak my thanks, for being there, silently but fervently. Neither of us made any flash photographs, even though we were alone with the Divine.... the image would have been of a different place.
Across the path, another gray clad monk lit with the red light of an electric heater was working at books.
Climbing higher we approached a shrine where a man appeared to be scrubbing the ground before him, pushin his hands forward and drawing them back ... yet it had the fervency of prayer and we slipped quietly by lest he be embarrassed or at least his intensity interrupted.
Yet further up the mountain we came to a Dali-esque rock above another shrine. The rock was shaped like a huge egg with elongated Swiss cheese holes. A woman was prostrating herself as if in repeated Salutations to the Sun. Offerings of food and drink were on the altar as well as incense and candles. Climbing still higher, we came to a smaller Buddhist shrine, although these places of worship seemed to combine aspects of both Buddhism and Shamanism. Stairs in the rock ascended still higher – in the gloaming we placed our feet carefully, then sat gazing out over the city lights below as darkness fell.
A maze of steep narrow laneways took us down past people's houses of a residential neighborhood until we again reached the plateau of shops, including ones selling pizza and fried chicken, and the subway. Despite my tired, aching legs, I felt a tranquil exhilaration at our experiences of the day, plus my beginning to comprehend Seoul's intimidating subway system.
What luxury, back at our hotel, not to have to go out again but shower and just walk down the hall from our room to the lounge where our temporary membership scores us not only a beer but “appetizers” that more than suffice for supper. When they returned from pizza and garlicky salad at an Italian restaurant nearby, Jennifer and Miriam found us there by the picture window, city night lights spread out below us.

November 8 Monday
Mary, Jennifer, Miriam and I made our way two subway stops to another area of modern urbanity – storeys-high neon signs and tv screens, trendy shops, and ads displaying platinum-blond Korean models. After some hunting, we found the second floor Dr Fish spa, where you pay W2000 for access to sit beside a long rectangular box set in the floor, containing water and small fish, who immediately when you put your feet into the water, rush to nibble on them. Initially the sensation is so intense a tickle that you grimace and twist but eventually you settle down into watching the little pink mouths kiss and pluck at your skin, apparently eating off the dead skin. Ironically the watery coffee, or other drinks you are expected to buy, cost W4800 to 6800 more than twice the price of the unforgettable experience of being food for the fish!.. but the spacious spa with picture windows looking over the street, “self bar” of breads to eat with butter and jam, along with our coffee, gave us a luxurious relaxation before Jenn and Miriam headed for the airport, and Mary and I lugged our suitcases to the subway for a trip on 3 different lines, transferring twice, ending at Suwon, a distinct city from Seoul, although with no break in the urban metropolis.

permalink written by  chertop on November 8, 2010 from Seoul, South Korea
from the travel blog: Japan and South Korea 2010
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Suwon's Korean Folk Village, Spa and Fortress

Suwon, South Korea

In Seoul, I had called the Hwaesong Guest House there, using Jenn's phone. Reaching Suwon subway station, I found a tourist info booth where an English-speaking staffperson wrote the name and phone number in Korean so I could give that to a taxi driver. He talked on his cell phone as he drove and, miraculously, at a small street past the historic gate to the Suwon fortress, a Korean man obviously expecting us, was waiting to show us down the street to the guest house. We have a room with a double bed and bright pink flowered walls. You remove your shoes to step up into the room and put on a kind of flip-flop to go into our attached and huge bathroom.
Walking out for supper, we found fierce wind bending streetside trees; sleet pelted and soaked us with temperatures dropping from September to late November's. After walking past shops, including a tailor's, and more colorful, illuminated gates of the fortress walls, we ducked out of the rain into a spacious Korean restaurant. Immediately three women descended on us in fervent welcome. We wanted the famous galpi beef dish and were royalty with two of the women bringing us perhaps 15 different side dsihes and one beautiful woman cooking for us over the hot coats at our table. she made and handed ech of us rolls of the delicious marinated beef, plus kimchi, vegetable, red sauce and/or raw garlic... all wrapped in a lettuce leaf. Following her example we learned to make our own. Mary was able to thank them, say how delicious, and ask what various things were... giving them great pleasure and a little amusement.
Back at the guest house, we discovered we had no sheets or pillow cases...so went on a search and, from the Korean men's dorm, obtained pillows and two covers from bunk beds.

November 9 Tuesday
First morning stop was the bakery on the corner – cakes, pastries and sandwiches to rival our Japanese Gratie coffee and pastry place in Fukuoka. Mary tells me that a candy company managed to create a Korean Valentine's day on November 11 (armistice for warring couples?) and the bakery is resplendent with cakes (made of rice paste) that are dazzling works of art.
Walking to the train station, or more specifically, the tourist information house, we catch the bus to the Korean folk village. A half hour ride through industrial, commercial and residential high-rises identified only by number 316...327...409 (people-storage devices), takes us to the village that quickly became my favorite place in Korea. At the huge gate were guards in traditional dress. Beyond the souvenir shops and food court, traditional buildings of farmer and nobleman, from both northern and southern Korea, formed a village with a pottery shop, paper-making shop, and blacksmith shop. There was a craftsman in traditional white garb weaving a bowl, another making a mat, both from rice straw, and in another dwelling, even a fortune teller. There were flame-colored autumn leaves on the trees.... and no cars!
Besides the peace and quiet, we were treated to performances - drum and dance including spectaular acrobatics as part of what was supposedly a farmer's dance, but involved tassled and colorful attire, with long ribbons on the hats that the men dancing moved with slight movements of their heads and made them swirl like in a Chinese ribbon dance. The musician/dancers sounded their drums, tambourines and cymbals in energetic percussion, as they marched, circled and spiralled, reaching a frenzy of excitement in which the outer ring of dancers, as if propelled by centrifugal force, whipped themselves into twirling somersault cartwheels.
The “peasant” troupe had barely marched away when, in a nearby performance space, a solitary tightrope walker walk/climbed up the 40 degree rope from ground to aerial tightrope. There he repeatedly crossed from one platform, via the rope, to the other, amazing us with his bouncing down to straddle the rope and apparently bouncing back up off his groin! Or squatting on one foot, spinning to face the other way. Especially during the periods of talk/explanation that we of course couldn't comprehend, we were entranced by the group of kindergarten children sitting beside us with their teachers – beautiful, dark-haired, almond eyed children.
At noon a traditional wedding ceremmony took place in the courtyard of the nobleman's villa. With white-clad Confucian officials presiding, the groom entered first in maroon robes, then the bride bedecked in silk was escorted in with a woman attendant on each side. As they faced each other on opposite sides of a table laden with fruit and other food, bride and groom each separately bowed to each other, were given drink and something to eat by the officials. Finally a procession, groom on horseback and bride carried in a palaquin proceded from the nobleman's house..
Just before we left, we witnessed a spectacular display of equestrian skill, riders galloping their steeds around a ring and doing acrobatic stunts – bouncing off the ground back up to the saddle, springing into headstands, throwing a spear into a poster of a boar or shooting arrows into a target, all at high speed.
The 4pm bus brought us back into the land of traffic, industry, crowds and neon signs. Mary went to the Starbucks to get a real coffee (almost everywhere else coffee is a weak and unsatisfactory brew). Meanwhile I went to the tourist info outside Suwon station to get times for the trains to Daegu for tomorrow, and ask about Suwon's jjimjibang (upmarket sauna and spa) and camera shops (since I have already filled my 2GB card with images). In the camera store I opened my camera and showed the card and the battery so, despite our lack of mutual language, I was able to buy both.
At Starbucks, Mary and I discussed plans for the next few days; she had looked up Jjimjibang, some are right at hot springs, have baths of such substances as mud, cedar, and green tea. The young woman at the tourist info had told me Suwon's jjimjibang was near the bus station but that she had never been to it and didn't know the name. On the map it looked within walking distance but even at a fast pace, we tromped for ages (at least 1 ¼ hours) on pavement from downtown into extremely untouristy areas of furniture stores, past garages and repair shops and into another downtown of looo-ooong city blocks. When we stopped to ask to make sure we were on the right street, we were told in effect, “Take taxi or you reach there tomorrow.” Dragging, with aching legs, I was so ready to give up, especially when we had to retrace our steps. A taxi would have been only $5-6 but we had no name of the place. By great good fortune, as we thought we were nearing the bus terminal, I approached a businessman and asked “Jjimjibang?” and he kindly showed us a nearby pink sign – one for women.
We took stairs to a lower level where pink-clad Korean women giggled and took our W5000 ($5) and gave us tea-towel sized orange towels as well as each a key to a locker. Women were walking around nude so we stripped, piled our things into our lockers and went to shower, squating and pouring water from basins over ourselves as well as soaping ourselves. Then into the hot tub. There were 3 comfortably hot, one with bubbly, and another fiery hot that Mary enjoyed, particularly after the cold pool,where we could swim the 25 foot length but mostly used the jets to massage our backs and my aching legs. We tried out the steam room, where you sit on benches, and the dry sauna (64-67 degrees Centigrade) where you sit on the floor stones. Those rooms, as well as the relaxation room above them, had walls of pink and black tumbled pebbles in a design that suggested black mountains and pink sky. In the relaxation room, we tried out the plastic pillows with hard nubs over their surface but then gave up and shared the one soft pillow, the size of a bread loaf, our heads on the pillow and our bodies extending out in a pie shape. Most jjimjibang are open 24 hours so you can sleep overnight in the relaxation room.
Back downstairs, we found beach lounge chairs to stretch out on. On pink massage tables, lay women naked and being massaged, oiled, and pummelled by two other women in what appeared to be black bra and panties. In the outer room one naked woman knelt on the floor, her body and head stretched out along a bench while another woman straddled the bench, massaging her tattooed back. As Mary and I relaxed in this community of women indulging, rejuvenating, luxuriating in the comfort and stimulation of touch, I wondered how Korean immigrants, if not in a community of Koreans, must pine for the sisterhood of the jjimjibang.
A taxi home was another automatic indulgence requiring no decision. Mary said I was asleep even before the little fridge in our room began rattling the tea cup sitting on it.

November 10 Wednesday
Mary has been making strides in learning Korean and the people are delighted, and sometimes amused, to talk with her. Using a course loaded onto her ipod, she hears the Korean, and writes memory clues to help remember it. While she studied this morning, I walked briskly up to see the massive gate at the far end of Suwon's fortress wall. (Our guest house is near the south end's huge entrance gate and at night we see the gate, observation towers, and fire-beacon platforms magically lit.) I hiked along the wall, looked out on the modern city, its rectangular buildings so different from the historic fortress, then strode along the Suwoncheon (river) back to our guest house.

permalink written by  chertop on November 9, 2010 from Suwon, South Korea
from the travel blog: Japan and South Korea 2010
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From Suwon's fortress to Daegu's dog soup

Taegu, South Korea

November 10 Wednesday
Mary has been making strides in learning Korean and the people are delighted, and sometimes amused, to talk with her. Using a course loaded onto her Ipod, she hears the Korean, and writes memory clues to help remember it. While she studied this morning, I walked briskly up to see the massive gate at the far north end of Suwon's fortress wall. (Our guest house is near the south end's huge entrance gate and at night we see the gate, observation towers, and fire-beacon platforms magically lit.)
I hiked along the wall, looked out on the modern city, its rectangular buildings so different from the historic fortress, then strode along the Suwoncheon (river) back to our guest house.

We took a taxi to Suwon station and train to Daegu - past autumn forest hills, water standing in rice paddies, a cultivated pond of what appeared to be lotus root, acres of greenhouses (some open so I could see the smoothly manicured soil, others assembled with metal hoops, irrigation sprinklers, and translucent covering). We saw traditional houses, some with bright blue roofs. Our train crossed 3 rivers on bridges. We discovered that seats are assigned when a Korean man approached us pointing to his ticket; we obligingly moved; he took pains to brush the seat off completely!
Our hotel's name is romanized either Lausanne or Rozan; either way, the pamphlets outside and poster inside, up only at night, are evidence it is a “love hotel.” But, unlike in Suwon, we have the luxury of sheets.
Walking out to a restaurant about 10 minutes away, we had to match the Korean characters in the sign to the notation in our guidebook, as well as the menu, as there was no English in either. We tried their goat and their dog soup, each ordering a bowl of one or the other, probably for the one and only time, (the goat meat was tough and the dog meat mercifully sparse in that soup). Then walking back, we stopped into “Home Plus” a huge supermarket plus department store with food courts offering everything from Korean, Japanese, Chinese, Greek cuisine, and pasta to Krazee Burgers. Tiny ice cream cones were $4-5, but we had decided on ice cream to quench the fire in our mouths from dinner; Mary had the inspired idea that we buy a package from the grocery section. Passing up the green tea ice cream, we chose “Goo-Goo” – chocolate covered peanuts, caramel, chocolate and marshmallow ice cream... and we ate up the whole liter of it!

permalink written by  chertop on November 10, 2010 from Taegu, South Korea
from the travel blog: Japan and South Korea 2010
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Daegu's Korean Oriental Medicine Market

Taegu, South Korea

We took a taxi to Suwon train station and train to Taegu - past autumn forest hills, water standing in rice paddies, a cultivated pond of what appeared to be lotus root, acres of greenhouses (some open so I could see the smoothly manicured soil, others assembled with metal hoops, irrigation sprinklers, and translucent covering). We saw traditional houses, some with bright blue roofs. Our train crossed 3 rivers on bridges. When a Korean man approached us pointing to his ticket, we discovered that seats are assigned; we obligingly moved; he took pains to brush the seat off completely!
Our hotel's name is romanized either” Lausanne” or “Rozan”; either way, the pamphlets outside and poster inside and which are up only at night, are evidence it is a “love hotel.” But, unlike in Suwon, we have the luxury of sheets.
Walking out to a restaurant about 10 minutes away, we had to match the Korean characters in the sign to the notation in our guidebook, as well as the menu, as there was no English in either. We tried their goat and their dog soup, each ordering a bowl of one or the other so that we could share them and each get to experience both, probably for the one and only time, (the goat meat was tough and the dog meat mercifully sparse in that soup). Then walking back, we stopped into “Home Plus” a huge supermarket plus department store with food courts offering everything from Korean, Japanese, Chinese, Greek cuisine, and pasta to “Krazee Burgers.” Tiny ice cream cones were $4-5, but we had decided on ice cream to quench the fire in our mouths from dinner; Mary had the inspired idea that we buy a package from the grocery section. Passing up the green tea ice cream, we chose “Goo-Goo” – chocolate covered peanuts, caramel, chocolate and marshmallow ice cream... and we ate up the whole liter o
November 11 Thursday
We made our own filter coffee with hot water from the dispenser in the hall and ate some of the walnut topped and coffee-filled pastries that we had bought last night when we got our Goo-Goo ice cream.
Also last night, a woman who spoke good English had addressed us as we made our way to the restaurant; I took the opportunity to ask her what bus we should take to go downtown to the Oriental medicine market. But, this morning, on the bus #427 that she recommended, we had an uncommunicative driver so we had to pour over our only and minimal map (the small one in our guidebook) and try to match its features with the bus's turns and its crossing a river. A woman on the bus indicated we should get down at Towel Street, which indeed had shops selling mountains of towels.
We walked many twists, turns and even backtracked before we found a street of shops displaying Oriental herbs - ginseng root in golden or in red wine, various types of fungus, deer horn and many more substances we could not even guess. It was fascinating to see and to make photos of the multitude of shapes, colors, and especially the colored wine lit through with sunlight.
Most shopkeepers went about their own business, but one youngish man invited us in and showed us the tailbone of a deer (a smooth, black, concave arrow shape), dried seahorses, and various other medicines. He gave us each a red berry that has 5 different tastes – I could taste pepper, citrus and sweet. He offered and gave us tea that is supposed to relieve fatigue. We asked about some thorny stems and he indicated they were from cactus and were for knee problems, so I asked to buy some; he wrapped up two 4 inch twigs as a gift to us. He supplemented that with a package of fragrance, also a gift. Mary took out money, determined to buy some of the fatigue relieving medicine, but he made us a gift of even that. Overwhelmed, we each took out our name cards to give him: I wrote on mine that, if he ever visits the United States, I hoped he would visit me. His English was only slightly better than our Korean but he had a ipod with translation from Korean to English so was able to show us what a number of the medicines were, and also to communicate that he was born 2 storeys above the shop which his father and grandfather had run before him.
Leaving with many thanks, we finally found the Museum of Korean Oriental medicine, a two storey spacious building set in a garden, whose interior had displays, interactive media where you could find out which of 4 body types you are, and videos telling in story form about people discovering the healing properties of various medicines. You chose from the menu English, Japanese, Chinese or Korean. A very detailed audio tape introduced us to the history and explained how Oriental medicine is based on duality – yin and yang, cold and hot, night and day, and on restoring the balance in the body as a whole rather than just treating a specific part of the anatomy as western medicine does. Balance is important also in the harmony and the antagonism of the elements fire, water, wood, earth, metal, each with its own color.
When we left at 2pm, I was ravenous; the young woman at the info booth guided us around the corner to a restaurant connected to the museum where we sat on cushions on an ondol (heated floor) and ate ginseng chicken with rice soup and, for dessert, savored ginseng tea sweetened with honey. Especially in the chicken, whose skin was blackened yet soft, the ginseng had a bitterness that may be, like coffee and beer, an acquired taste. As we left,the woman who had made and served our meal offered us coffee to go, made directly from a dispensing machine, it was the only coffee we've had in Korea, except Starbucks', that has been strong and flavorful enough for Mary and me to enjoy.
We made our way along Jewelery Street to Seomun Market, which is a huge city block of many small laneways crowded with shops selling everything – shoes, socks, clothing, costume jewelery, everything. Stalls were slipped in sideways - cooking and serving broth, intestines on skewers, noodles floating in soup. Within the warren of lanes is a multistorey building equally or more crowded with shops selling silks, beautiful traditional Korean wedding dresses in every color, shoes in traditional style for weddings, pairs of carved ducks to give as wedding gifts, funky fashionable modern women's clothing, especially tops, vests and jackets ... no wonder the young women we see are so stylish! Mary and I got talking with a man selling colorful fabric foot-covers that extend part way up the calf; he was eager for us to try them on and to tell us about them, despite our sparse common language,.... but we found him not receptive to bargaining. Eventually we did buy 6 pairs, not nearly as heavy to carry home as gifts as is the package of oriental herbs (turned out to include 8 packages of soy-like liquid) that we were given earlier today.
We found the stairway to the top floor lined with vendors of food and drink, and that the exit on the top floor goes to the outside where two men sat playing mahjong under a pale skyline and hazy pink sun. Trying to head home to our “love hotel,” we found the market became more colorful as lights came on and darkness fell. Finding a subway entrance, we ducked in out of the beginning rain and rode to the closest station to our hotel - from which it was still a long walk. But we emerged into a downpour, fierce wind scattering the pedestrians. It took much pondering, as well as deliberation between us, and several descents into the subway only to again come up a stairway that proved not to be what we wanted... before Mary asked a man unlocking a bike which way was “nam” or south, and I asked someone which way was the Home Plus store, as I knew we could find our way from there. It then took another descent into the subway to get on the correct corner of the huge intersection. Finally we walked past the Grand Hotel, whose location on our map showed we were headed home.
Finally we reached Home Plus and, in its food court, we chose from plastic displays, me a Japanese cutlet supper and Mary a Greek omelet stuffed with rice --- both accompanied with rice.
Mary packed faster than I've seen anyone and we headed out to the bus stop for #814 as she is headed by train for Ulsan where she and Jennifer will have most of tomorrow just the two of them.


permalink written by  chertop on November 11, 2010 from Taegu, South Korea
from the travel blog: Japan and South Korea 2010
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Korean Farm Visit

Taegu, South Korea


November 12 Friday
Waking up before 7am, I packed and dragged my suitcase down the 3 flights of stairs. It is considerably heavier now that it contains 7 packages of Korean herbal medicine, 7 of them liquid. Mostly through acting it out, I conveyed my request that the hotel keep my luggage and I would return at 19:00. Once the perplexed look on the face of the attendant disappeared and he took my suitcase to the nearby closet, I headed out for bus #814. Even though the bus was rush hour crowded, I felt good about knowing how to get where I wanted to go.
At DongDaegu train station, I bought my ticket for Ulsan for this evening, bought a pastry decorated with egg and hot dog slices, and went outside to find the city bus tour. The small office was staffed with a young woman who spoke almost as little English as I speak Korean, so we communicated via my very limited Japanese, my even translating for some Israelis who arrived to buy tickets.
When I asked her if I could sit and eat my breakfast pastry, she quickly offered me coffee which she made from hot water from the hot/cold dispenser and I had a relaxed wait for the 10am bus.
This bus headed north out of the city to the mountain Palgonsan which rises a jagged ridge above autumn hills and under azure sky. I got off at the Guam farm where I was greeted by three culture guides in dark uniforms. I returned their greeting but continued walking looking for the ticket booth. One followed me and told me his English name is Ken. He showed me the workshop for braiding hemp into rope and for making it into baskets, mats and all sorts of traditional items, including back packs used by farmers of old.
He showed me the room where fabric is dyed a pale orange earth color, and made into garments. Then the lunch room where classes of schoolchildren get to taste traditional foods like the freshly made rice patties turned out and dusted with a pale brown flour by women cooks. Ken and I each ate several pieces and, while not having a lot of flavor, they were soft and chewy, unlike the rice paste items from the “lunch” the Korean man had bought Mary and me in the Seoul subway (which we ate until the last pieces, several days later, were too hard to be food and we used them, on the train from Suwon to Daegu, as spoons to eat our yoghurt.
An elementary class had piled on a wagon and Ken had us join them for a trip around the small roads to see farm workers assembling a greenhouse from the metal hoops and the huge sheets of transparent plastic film. Excited boys jumped up and down testing their balance as the wagon turned around corners; girls in pairs obviously were best friends; all shouted enthusiastic greetings to the farm workers.
Returning to the workshop area, we found a class of kindergarten children being helped by their teachers to try on the traditional backpacks. The teachers would also lift each kid up to stand on one end of the rice pounder and experience how the other end pounds rice kernels into flour
On the way out, Ken showed me the small traditional wedding room. The bed was a futon on the floor, the walls were covered with inscriptions, and bright colored silk attire hung nearby.
I was amazed that there was no ticket to buy and Ken asked for no money. After warm thanks and goodbyes, I walked out to the highway. Some 6 city tour buses head out from 10am to 16:40 and stop at 7 different sites where you can get off and then get on a later bus. In the bus, a large screen tv shows the sites of “colorful Daegu.”

permalink written by  chertop on November 12, 2010 from Taegu, South Korea
from the travel blog: Japan and South Korea 2010
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Mountain Temples outside Daegu

Taegu, South Korea


I next got off at Gatwabi temple, together with a young Korean woman, who turned out to be a “salaryman” on vacation from her work in a trading company in Seoul. She is traveling around her country for a month. I knew the famous Buddha statue was a 2 kilometers hike away, but, if I had known that we would climb 800 meters elevation gain, I might have stopped at one of the intermediate temples.
My companion got winded even before me. Stopping to rest, she pulled out a brick of rice cake studded with red beans and offered me some. I brought out my sweet walnut pastry and offered her some but she told me “I don't like bread”. Stripping off my fleece and turtleneck, I was happy to hike in my sleeveless dance shirt. But diminutive Asian women in padded jackets continually passed us heading down and marveled to my companion and me that I “very strong” if I wasn't cold.
Some 50 feet before we finally reached the top, the chanting reached our ears. Then we came around a rock outcrop onto a plateau where dozens of people were praying to the huge stone Buddha, many performing what looked like salutations to the sun, rising and kneeling, while some were chanting, some fingering rosary beads. Between the worshipers and the Buddha was a long glass case where people knelt to light candles and incense; and also stalls where women were preparing and handing out something that looked like small slabs of spare ribs. When I approached, one of them beckoned me over and gave me some of the “spare ribs”which turned out to be freshly made rice paste bars covered with red bean flour and crumbs. Still warm, it became my gratefully eaten lunch and I understood at a “gut” level why my companion prefers it to the easily crushed soft sweet breads available here in Korea.
My companion told me the worshipers come and pray for the success of their children in Korean civil service exams. When I asked whether it was only the mothers who did so, she replied in amazement at my question, that the “fathers are working and don't have the time.”
We'd abandoned any attempt to descend for the bus we'd planned to take and, in fact, had to hurry to even have a chance of getting the next bus. Even so, it took us 50 minutes to descend, and near the end we had to run, barely making it to the bus before it left.
She got off at the stop for the museum while I rode to Dongwasa Temple, a huge complex of temple buildings spread over an area, ascending and descending the mountain. There were buildings being used by the gray-clad monks, buildings under construction, recently-painted buildings with vivid red, green, yellow, and blue intricate patterns and paintings. Dusk had softened the brilliant hues of red and gold maple trees by the time I found the 33 metre high Buddha.
Evening rush hour made the 1 ½ hour bus ride back into the city of Daegu a slow crawl. Eventually reaching the train station, I waited with many other pedestrians for the traffic lights finally to change so I could run across the 8 lane thoroughfare. The #814 bus I could see in the distance had pulled away from the stop by the time I reached it and would not stop for me so I waited for the next, only to find it was headed in the direction opposite from Rozan hotel! Exasperatingly, I had to retrace my steps back across the thoroughfare for a bus headed south to Beomeo district.
After a quick shrimp fried rice in the Home Plus food court, and retrieving my luggage, I caught a north-bound 814 bus for the train station arriving in plenty of time...but finding it nerve-racking sitting still waiting at 8:35 before being allowed to head for the train which would be leaving at 8:40. As soon as the track number is posted, people flood down the stairs and along the track platform; I had a considerable hike to the boarding place for car #14. Finding a woman in my seat, 12A, studiously ignoring me and realizing she and the woman next to her would both be disrupted if I insisted on my assigned seat, I was fortunate to find a double seat vacant before the train picked up speed to some 300 km/hour. It hurtled through the night, getting me to Ulsan in 24 minutes, a journey that would have taken 2 hours by bus.
What a pleasure to see Mary, Jennifer and Dennis all tall individuals who stood out in the crowd of people meeting passengers!

permalink written by  chertop on November 13, 2010 from Taegu, South Korea
from the travel blog: Japan and South Korea 2010
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Rest and Recovery with Jenn and Den

Ulsan, South Korea

November 13 Saturday
My legs are sore and crippled from yesterday, especially from the climb up Gatbawi. What could be better than a decadent morning starting with my making Green Mountain coffee for everyone! Jenn made us bacon and eggs, I laundered clothes, even my photo jacket.
Almost noon when we drove north through dense traffic heading for Gyeongu and the ancient temple complex Bulgoksa, a UNESCO world heritage site. Vivid autumn foliage had attracted crowds of families and everywhere cameras focussed on groups of family, and friends, the Koreans being photograhed always making the V for “victory” sign. Beautiful children, fashionably chic adolescents even with platinum or bright red hair. Lovely ponds, curved bridges, even the toilet houses had traditional temple tiled roofs!
So did the nearby town's restaurants where we had a late lunch of rice, vegetables and meat in a hot pot that kept everything hot until the last bite. Next door, in the souvenir shop, Mary bought a pair of wedding ducks like the mandarin ducks we'd seen in a pond at the palace garden in Seoul. When I picked up a package of sticks with cribbage like holes, a Korean woman with good English explained the traditional game yut-nori that is played with them.
Evening we headed for Ulsan's harbor where we chose a simple-looking restaurant with tanks of crab outside. One tank held pinkish crabs about 10 inches across. Another held crabs at least 2 feet across and costing $200. Eager to sell us one of the giants, the Korean employee hooked one and lifted it up into the air to let us see the mouth parts working and the long legs. Plopped upside down on the scales, the huge creature could only wave its legs feebly. It was a surreal and sad experience watching these fascinating and very alive but doomed creatures that we were about to eat.
We were shown to a small cabin, the size of a child's playhouse, with walls covered with pink, rose-patterned wallpaper. Sitting on cushions as the floor heated beneath us, we drank beer and ate from the many appetizer and side dishes – abalone, snails, a white fish, seaweed, kimchi, small white sweet potatoes. The main attraction, a platter of four crabs, arrived with a Korean woman who showed us how to use scissors to cut the shell and how to suck out the meat... which was delicate and sweet. We left a table littered with debris and took the four small beautiful abalone shells with us.

November 14 Sunday
Breakfast of bagels, peanut butter, jam and marmalade! Jen, Den, Mary and I, together with their Boston terrier-Pug, Arnold, hiked from their complex of apartment buildings, past small garden plots growing cabbage and huge green radishes that were popping out of the ground, and up the nearby hill. We passed oak and pine, beautifully-tassled grasses, and the web of a 2 ½ inch, vibrantly striped spider.
In the afternoon Jenn and Den went to the Korean wedding of Den's colleague. It was one of some 10 going on in a wedding palace that provides hair salons, dress shops and an overflow area in the open space in the center of the various wedding rooms so that extra guests can mingle and create an excessive amount of noise. Mary and I had the luxury of staying in the apartment, taking it easy, except for throwing the ball dozens of times for Arnold to retrieve. When Jenn and Den returned, the coffee table became the site of a Korean game, in which you build a tower then take turns removing a lower piece and adding it to the top. Eventually the tower is so high and so full of holes that it collapses.
Jennifer made us a delicious dinner of pineapple glazed pork tenderloin, together with the basmati rice that is expensive and difficult to buy in Korea. For dessert, ice cream sandwiches in the shape of sea bream, the fish that is much prized at restaurants.



permalink written by  chertop on November 14, 2010 from Ulsan, South Korea
from the travel blog: Japan and South Korea 2010
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Hydrofoil back to Japan

Pusan, South Korea

November 15 Monday
Suitcases packed, we headed out to the main thoroughfare for a taxi, Jenn and Arnold continuing for a walk. Taxi to bus station, intercity bus to Busan, an hour away, subway train to the fish market, another hour. We knew we had only 15 minutes for a brief glimpse of the amazing variety of creatures at the fish market, the boats unloading in the harbor... but an intense 15 minutes was better than missing it...plus we got a taxi direct to the very door of the nearby Ferry terminal. There we again went through bureaucratic procedures, including buying the inevitable departure tax. The hydrofoil took us swifty across blue water, past islands as we again heard Japanese spoken on the intercom and amongst passengers.
Landing in Fukuoka, we now knew to take bus 88 to the train station and how to walk back to the Khaosan hostel. In a convenience store en route, I bought packages of udon noodles in soup, a large beer for us to share, and milk for tomorrow's coffee. So, at the hostel, Mary and I went to the common kitchen on the third floor, added boiling water and enjoyed our supper talking with a policeman from Paris, a dark-haired young woman from the Netherlands, and an athletic young man from Slovenia who wants to go to Canada and ski at Whistler.

permalink written by  chertop on November 14, 2010 from Pusan, South Korea
from the travel blog: Japan and South Korea 2010
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Pusan, South Korea



permalink written by  chertop on November 15, 2010 from Pusan, South Korea
from the travel blog: Japan and South Korea 2010
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Hakata, Japan



permalink written by  chertop on November 16, 2010 from Hakata, Japan
from the travel blog: Japan and South Korea 2010
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My mother tells me that when I was five and she took me by train from Vancouver to Edmonton, we had barely left Vancouver when I declared "Enough train. Get down now." But, at age 11 when my paternal grandmother took me from Edmonton to California and Disneyland, the trip instilled in me a...

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