Gyeongju

Whew, it is HUMID here. And I don’t think we’re into the worst of it. I don’t think we’re even close to the worst of it. It takes a good 2 days for wet laundry to dry, and forget about your fluffy bath towel, because by the time that dries, it smells nasty. The dehumidification setting on our air system works about as well as anything else here. I went to go riding last week and had to put my bike bag, which sits open, dry, on top of my bike, in open air, into the washing machine because it was covered in fuzzy and green-spotty MOLD. Yummy. Coincidentally (isn’t it ironic), a co-worker who’s lived in Korea for a while emailed us all that evening about mold, that ‘twas the season, and that there’s a good industrial-strength product available. I got to cleaning my apartment thoroughly yesterday, and was really afraid of what I’d find, but the bike bag was, oddly, the worst of it. That I found. There was a little layer under the rim of my bed frame, but other stuff was pretty much okay. I’ll be purchasing said product, regardless. And we should get a fine crop of mold in our hallway, where we have a permapuddle due to a leak, and it never fully dries out. We notified them when the leak first spouted a month or so ago, but apparently there’s a big long list of problems ahead of that. Like the mountainsides sliding down. Like the huge new sinkholes. Like people’s flooded apartments. And they seem to think that throwing plastic over things (mountainsides, rooftops) will solve the problems. Yep.

In other news of moisture, we were all good and wet five minutes into our soccer game tonight. I still suck, and am not exactly the person you pass the ball to when you have a choice, but at least I’m getting better at getting in the other team’s way. Woohoo! I look good in the uniform, which is the most important thing.

Okay, so the next adventure I have to report on is a four-day trip to Gyeongsangbuk-do, in southeastern Korea, from July 3-6. We focused on the Gyeongju area, which is chock full of cultural goodness. I met up with 4 coworkers (we were 2 US, 1 Canadian, 1 Aussie, 1 Serbian) for a 6:16 am train in the neighboring town, and embarked on our taxi-train-subway-subway-bus 71/2 hour trip. The public transportation here, as previously lauded, is pretty cheap. The deluxe buses will run into the W20,000-W30,000 range, but they’re pretty cushy, and that’s usually for at least a four-hour ride. It may take forever to get not very far on the trains and local buses (even the express ones; there are lots of mountains to go over and around), but at least ya don’t go broke. Tourist sites, too, are usually really cheap, as in under W2,500, although they occasionally run up to W4,000.

We experienced morning rush-hour subway traffic in Seoul (people just don’t look where they’re going here; it’s really peculiar), got directions from a monk, saw a cool bathroom at the reststop on the bus route, were approached by a man with an eye-patch about his hotel, had a downright awful lunch that included kimchi past its prime and part of a plastic bag in Matt’s soup, I was handed my change lefthandedly (UNHEARD OF!) at a convenience store, and the day just got weirder.

After settling on a hostel-motel combo (3 pals in a hostel room and a motel room for the couple) and our bad lunch, we went to hike Namsan, in the southern part of the city. The mountain trails are loaded with side paths to relics of all kinds: shrines, statues, pagodas…you name it. We were a bit mismatched as a group as far as our enthusiasm to cover territory, but we started off well, enjoying the beauty of the place and the many cultural and natural wonders we discovered. Not too far in, however, one of our guys took a fall crossing some rocks, which was terrifying to watch—and yet could have been MUCH worse. He was a bit banged and scraped up, and our other guy (boyscout!) whipped out his first aid kit. We soldiered on after a rest, but Stu realized that he was worse off than he’d thought and needed to turn back.

So, after some discussion, he, Alex (his girlfriend), and Susan (who was to be leaving EV after the trip and was exhausted from packing and goodbye-ing) headed back, and Matt (who was on his second trip to the area, specifically to do this hike) and I continued on. Fortunately, both Alex and I had cell phones, so we could keep in touch when the signal allowed (Stu felt better later, better the next day, then worse…and back at EV was finally dragged to the doctor, where it was determined that he had indeed cracked a rib. Ouch).

Matt and I saw some great Buddha statues, carvings, and shrines, plus a coupla pagodas, stunning views, and ever-changing landscapes, and we were on the same page of appreciation of it all. We even got to do some climbing and descending via steep rocks using knotted ropes, so we felt all rugged and mountainy. We finished just as dusk was setting in, and were given a ride back to the starting point (to meet our peeps, who had finally arrived at the base and were having dinner across the street) by a woman whom we’d asked if we could catch a taxi at the end of her road. Her son came with us in the van, and it was probably the most exciting thing that had happened to him that week. We’re not too common in the outlying areas, as I’ve mentioned before.

We all taxied back to our lodgings, then went in search of good eats. We passed on our original idea, as Stu wasn’t up for sitting on the floor, and ended up finding a new (“Grand Open!”) brewpub under a hotel across the street from our terrible lunching establishment. En route, we distinctly smelled burning marijuana—which just doesn’t happen in this country. Or so we thought…

So, we’re all psyched to have found this big microbrewery, which looks pretty much as you’d expect one to back home. We order up some pizza and beer, the latter of which arrives in cool big bottles with molded pewter handles and tops. The “live” music kicks in: a guy playing his guitar and singing Korean tunes to backup tracks. When he’s finished with his set, a female vocal trio and a guy on keyboards play, and they’re pretty darned good. They mostly sing western pop songs from the 70’s and 80’s, and we enjoy singing along (more loudly later in the evening when we’re well beer-steeped and they get into the 90’s). The guy, when he solos, has got the BeeGees NAILED. We are blown away. It was hilarious and impressive all at once.

Partway into their first set, a bunch of guys and a woman come in and sit at a table in our section of the restaurant, and it clearly is not their first stop. Soon after, one of the guys goes up to the band to make a request, and I notice that he’s got the quintessential gay man’s walk, which I point out to my table on his return trip. Soon after, two of the other men hit the dance floor and start groping each other. They’re the only two people on the dance floor, so discretion has no role in the scenario, and it only gets worse. Now, this would be a little much in the US, and that’s coming from a gal who’s been in the theatre for a good long while, but here, it was completely unusual. And Alex, our Serbian woman, had never even witnessed a mild example of homosexual behavior, as it just doesn’t exist aboveground in her homeland. She was…awed. And we had a gay man in our party, which added to the fun of our commentary and speculations.

Oh, my. So, we’re pretty much riveted in the train-wreck kind of way, as it’s just so painfully unsexy and randomly weird. And then another party of two sits near us, and one of them is obviously trans-something-or-other, the other is male, and they’re not just friends. Later, another bunch of men come in, but we couldn’t determine much before we left beyond that they were a little too-well dressed for a Monday night out with the guys. And the handsome waiters, who we’d noticed might have been made up a little, had been spotted primping with great care in the bathroom. During all of the repeat episodes on the dance floor, the band really didn’t seem all that phased, although certainly not encouraging. At any rate, we were pretty sure that we’d stumbled upon a full-fledged gay/trans-everything establishment. Matt told me how to ask “Is this a gay bar?” because he didn’t want to do it, so asked the owner on the way out, who without hesitation matter-of-factly said “yes.” I thought he’d at least be surprised that the question came from little ol’ me. Off the random scale.

We finally tore ourselves away from the scene and Matt, Susan and I settled into our slumber party room, where we reviewed the strangeness of the day. We roomed well together, alternating bathroom shifts, sleeping decently, and getting out the next morning 45 minutes after we’d gotten up. We scoped out the bus info for their return trip that afternoon (they were all returning to work on Wed, whereas I had gotten Wed/Thurs off and was staying for further exploration), put our bags in lockers, and went out for a western breakfast at a hotel, fully appreciating that we were having it on the 4th of July.

We started our walking tour (it was raining and continued to do so all day), and Stu and Alex caught up with us around 11am. We wandered through the Noseo-dong tumuli, which are Silla tombs built between the 4th and 5th centuries AD. They are basically gigantic, grass-covered mounds, the largest of which, Bonghwadae, measured 22m high and 200m around. Kings were buried in coffins, with goodies for the afterlife, in a wooden room, covered with literally tons of stones, then earth. Given the value of the riches buried, these tombs would be pretty tempting for thieves—but to try to pillage from the base would mean getting buried by the rocks sliding down, and going in from the top would be awfully conspicuous. Aha.

After a stop at a Buddhist temple where a service was taking place, we crossed yet another street into Tumuli Park for, you guessed it, more tumuli. The greenness of these huge tombs and of the park, and especially in the rain, is quite beautiful. One of the tombs, Cheonmachong, has been excavated and preserved as a cross-sectioned exhibit, which is pretty cool. We wandered through that park, and then Stu and Alex left to find lunch and head back to Paju. Matt, Susan and I had more territory to cover, though, so we continued on to Wolseong Park.

The most notable object of sightseeing lust in the park is Cheomseongdae, the oldest astrological observatory in the Far East. Its design is impressively sophisticated, but it just looks like a big stone chimney. The park was wonderfully peaceful and lush (it was still raining, and our feet were soaked, but it was warm enough that we were comfortable. Once your feet are wet through, they’re not going to get any wetter, so ya may as well aim for the puddles).

On the other side of the park was the site of Banwolseong, which was once a big fortress. Now it’s the site of the former fortress…basically more park, with one remaining fortressy structure: Seokbinggo, or “Stone Ice House,” built into a hillside, which was used for ice and food storage. Nifty.

The next almost-adjacent park was Anapji Pond, which King Munmu constructed in 674. It’s since been rebuilt and the pond drained (they found thousands of relics in 1975) and repaired, but it’s breathtakingly beautiful. We took a leisurely walk around and understood why it is a popular spot for wedding photos—it certainly reminded me of Binney Park at home.

Next on our agenda was the other place Matt was returning to see: the Gyeongju National Museum. It is huge, has lovely outdoor artifacts (including Emille Bell, one of the largest and most resonant in Asia), is well-designed as a whole and exhibit-by-exhibit, had better English signage than most places, and we could have spent far more time there than the hour that we did. Instead, we moved on to our last stop: Bunhwangsa, the oldest datable pagoda in Korea (mid 7thc). It’s made of brick, which is rare, and only 3 of the original 9 tiers remain. Carvings of stone lions and Buddhist guardians are found on each side.

After squeezing in that last sight, we grabbed a taxi back to the express bus terminal, where I left Matt and Susan and caught a bus for what I thought would be a quick ride—turned out to be 45 minutes---to Bugulksa, an amazing temple on UNESCO’s World Cultural Heritage list. Lonely Planet describes it as “the crowning glory of Silla temple architecture,” and it truly is a magnificent place. The landscapes are gorgeous, the buildings are beautifully painted and constructed, the pagodas are unique and especially revered, and there is a special aura pervading the grounds. Lots of stuff here gets ‘national treasure’ status. LP warned that it gets crazily crowded, but as it was a weekday during rainy season near to closing time, I had it to myself, except for sightings of about 4 other tourists and the monks. It was pouring, POURING rain, but that added to the mystique of the experience. My umbrella’s demise, on the other hand, didn’t add so much mystique…

Not realizing how long the trip to the temple was, I was also going to check out a nearby grotto, also on UNESCO’s WCH list, but I ran out of time and planned to come back the next day. I noted a folk craft village en route and decided that it would be the perfect addition to my itinerary to make the trip back worth the time and effort. So, I caught a bus back near to the terminal, wandered around in search of one restaurant that I couldn’t find and then another that was closed, brought my stuff to eyepatch man’s hotel and checked in. I asked him where I could get a delicious meal, and he pointed me down the block for a W3,000 meal. They had no menu, so I said “W3,000?” which is apparently the password, and I was brought a tray of rice, soup, and 7 side dishes: greens, noodles, kimchi, lotus root, cucumbers, daikon and bean curd. Woohoo!

I grabbed some chocolate chip cookies and beer at a convenience store on the corner, then went to the hotel. My little room had no sink (but a shower setup that works almost as well; it’s as if your sink is on the floor with the shower) but did have a desk fan, which I pointed on full blast on my shoes for the night—which did the trick! Oh, happy dry shoes!

I got up and out early on Wednesday, put my stuff in a locker at the bus terminal, and went back to Seokguram Grotto. I opted for the hike up the mountain instead of the shuttle, as it was a nice day (!) and the shuttle wasn’t due for another 15 minutes. It was magically misty and beautiful, and again not crowded, and I was up, going at a fast pace, in 45 minutes. The grotto is a big deal because the Sakyamuni Buddha and the surrounding guardians/deities are all considered masterpieces (so much so, that now they’re behind glass--rare in Korea), and getting all that rock up the mountain from far-away quarries was quite an accomplishment.

All that said, it was pretty anti-climactic to hike all the way up there, pay W4,000, walk another 15 minutes, look through the glass (the grotto’s entrance is about 3m wide), and go. I rode the shuttle back down and had a good chat with two Koreans who’d been living in California for 40 years; they were back visiting family and hadn’t been to this part of the country in decades.

With a bit of hassle from a bus driver who said he did indeed and would stop at the craft village, but then drove past it and had to be convinced to let me off, which he finally did two far-apart stops later, and then catching another bus back…I made it to the folk craft village. If I had tons of money, that’s where I’d spend it. I bought a bunch of souvenirs, drooled over the pottery and jewelry, watched a guy throw an urn (on the pottery wheel), and finally tore myself away.

Back to the center of Gyeongju for lunch across from the bus terminal (teok beokki—spicy noodles, tofu, egg, veggies), and a stop to buy some unique Gyeongju bread (Hwandang Bang: almost a pastry, filled with a red bean / slightly sweet concoction; barley bread is also famous) to bring back to EVers, then onto an intercity bus to Daegu, an hour west. I took the subway from that bus station to another (this subway system sells little plastic tokens that you purchase according to the distance you’ll be traveling; you swipe it on the way in and then deposit it on the way out—most trains work this way, but with tickets or T-Cards), then caught another bus to go to Haeinsa, an UNESCO World Heritage temple in Gayasan National Park.

It was quite a trip to get there, but worth it. For some reason, my bus didn’t stop at the entrance, but it was a downhill walk in the rain…until the entrance, after which it was more uphill to the site… Trust me when I say that schlepping a big bag of worldly goods up a zillion steps to a temple will make you feel like a schmuck. Especially when you’re planning on spending the night there. Yep. Note to self: do the templestay BEFORE buying a load of souvenir ceramics.

Haeinsa is a temple of the Hwaom (Avatamsaka) sect (don’t ask me what that means), founded in 802, and it is where the Tripitaka Koreana (over 80,000 wooden blocks on which are inscribed the comprehensive written collection of Buddhist scriptures and doctrines) are enshrined. Pretty cool. That part was under construction, but you could see part of it and get the idea.

I found the dorm area (one room for men and one for women) and had just missed dinner (good thing that lunch was filling and late!), but found an English-speaking monk-in-training who got me to the 7pm prayers, which were preceded by awesome outdoor drumming on the huge temple drum (the first time I’d actually seen/heard one played) by the monks (using their full wingspan), and on the wooden fish and gong and bell. Most excellent sounds!

The service was a classical one (like I’d know the difference) in the main hall (of the Vairocana Buddha, dontcha know), and after a few minutes, all the monks filed in and knelt on their mats. I had been helped to place mine properly by the two women who made room for me between them, and I clumsily followed them in the rituals. I still have to figure up how to gracefully get myself up from kneeling without using my hands…they curled their toes under and got their weight back over their feet (up and down, up and down, up and down, repeat endlessly—or so it seemed to my knees and self-consciousness). The monks were out after 15 or 20 minutes, a few layfolks left with them, and I left after half an hour. Several people were still at it, and I’m not sure how long the priest continued.

I wandered the grounds until just after dark, then went back to the dorm to set up my bedding (on the floor) and hit the latrine (a wooden building near the dorms with rows of wooden stalls of squat latrines—the air-freshening system was pretty good) and the washroom (across from the dorms) before lights out and 9pm. I limited my water intake in hopes of not having to trek out in the middle of the night, but was unsuccessful, alas. At least it had stopped raining. I didn’t sleep all that well…partially because of the floor, partially because of noise outside the dorm—which surprised me; I expected holy silence after 9—and partially because of a fly that would not leave me alone. So then I started having deep thoughts about whether or not one ought to kill a fly at a monastery. Ought one? How frowned upon might that, in fact, be? Indeed.

My watch alarm went off at 3:10am, so that I’d wake up for the 3:30 service. No one else was getting up, though (there were about 10 of us), so I thought I might be mistaken about the schedule. I stayed in bed, but one other woman got up, and when I heard the drumming begin, I figured she wasn’t just going to the latrine after all. I opted to try the service in the other building, and I guess it was more contemporary. I got to the hall, and there was no one to be seen, but it was clearly set up for a service, and I had seen people (monks and layprayers) there the day before, so I went in and brought a mat to the far side of the room. When the drumming stopped, the monks filed in from outside, past me and to their mats closer to the altar, and the priest came out from behind a curtained off area. No other anybody, let alone foreigners. Eeeek! They probably got a kick out of blondie in the back. The service lasted about 40 minutes (my knees were keeping time) and I left a few minutes after the monks filed out, even though the priest was still at it.

I was surprised that so few people got up for the service, since, I thought, that was kind of the point (if not a condition) of visiting overnight. Hmmm.

I went back to bed for almost 2 more hours of almost sleep before breakfast. I went to the big dining hall (with shrine), divided for the monks on one side and visitors on the other. We also got our food from a separate line, on metal trays (upon which metal chopsticks make a most institutional racket). I followed everyone else for the (otherwise) silent meal. It was basic, but fresh and good: rice, grits (!), cold soup, kimchi turnips, greens and lentils. I was careful not to take much of anything I wasn’t sure of (mostly in terms of seasoning), since I suspect one should finish one’s meal at that kind of establishment…too bad those beans were undercooked…I figured I (and quite possibly my fellow bus passengers) would be paying for that later…

It seemed to be acceptable to lay down again, so I did for another hour before showering and exploring the the site and its immediate setting for 2 ½ hours. There were many buildings and different shrines and surrounding hermitages (and many gardens, which I’m sure supplied our meal). There were very few tourists, and zero foreigners to be found. I would have loved to have gone hiking, but there weren’t enough people around in general to go it alone, and I didn’t really have enough time, anyway. So I headed back the way I came, intending to stop at the museum I’d passed on the way in, but it was apparently closed on Tuesdays, so I went straight for the bus. I got on at 11:30, and 3 subway lines, 2 more buses and 8 ½ hours later, I was back at EV (on one of the Seoul subway lines I met a Korean-American girl, Edna, who was doing research for her Harvard social anthropology thesis, even).

All in all, a good round of touring! I’ll be happy with what I’ve seen here by the time I leave. Back at EV, nothing to unusual beyond the standard hassles, and everyone wants to know how I’ve gotten so much vacation time. Hah! I’m around for over a week this time, to witness the sinking and sliding of campus, before I leave on Monday…for Thailand! I have 12 days in a row off, so will have a full 11 there…if I’m lucky, I’ll also get to Angor Wat in Cambodia and/or Luang Prabang in Laos. Wheeeeeeee! So it’ll be a while before I write again, in case you’re actually caught up and want more (mom).

Check out the photo links for Jeju and Gyeongju!

Jeju

Whew—I’m behind! Hmmm…I seem to start every entry like that. This time I’ve really earned it, though. Lots of adventuring to report! (Check out the photo links, too!)
First, that 4-day trip to Jeju island, off the southern coast of Korea. Well, it’s just gorgeous. And I was super lucky to get there before peak time and to not get rained on, during, uh, rainy season. I even got a free, frequent-flier trip, having just squeaked out the 10,000 miles to earn it. I set out early on Monday, June 26th (another crowd-buster—go during the week) for the airport, and got there WAY early, which meant lots of time to read (“The Moor’s Last Sigh” by Salman Rushdie—excellent!) before my 1-hour flight.

I arrived to ominously overcast skies, caught a bus to the southern end of the island (Seogwipo), which took FOREVER—the roads are windy and mountainy and low speed-limity, so going not so far takes a good while. After much confusion, it was determined that the pension I was looking for was previously located on a now-vacant lot…so I looked at a couple more and finally settled on Hikers Inn for W20,000, largely because the owner (Kevin) also rented decent-looking mountain bikes for W5,000/day. It even turned out that he’d lived in Washington, CT and Boston for a year! The free “cafeteria” was a little kitchen, and the free “internet room” had two computers, which I avoided (VACATION).

I set out for a pre-dusk sightseeing walk, and saw Oedolgae (sounds like “Odelay,” and yes, I sang it all night…), which means “lonely rock.” It’s a volcanic basalt pillar, which is supposedly the wife of a drowned man, praying for his safety (the rock next door, which looks like a man with a belly bloated from drowning, doesn’t bode so well). The walk to the site was beautiful, through pine trees along the coastline (which I FINALLY found after several detours on other, even more beautiful, though dead-end, paths).

After some questioning of the locals (which also got me a free Jeju tangerine—heaven!), I found Cheonjiheonpokpo, which is a stunning waterfall and park, which you can’t miss unless you are on foot and don’t realize that the HUGE parking lot isn’t for all the stores that line it, but for the tourist site, the entrance to which is at the very far end… Anyway, it’s pretty. And it was my introduction to the labeling of almost all plantlife at Korean parks and tourist sites (the nature-oriented ones, anyway).

I went to see if another waterfall site was still open, and it wasn’t, so I did some wandering around town en route to a recommended (by Lonely Planet) restaurant. And then I had my best-yet meal in Korea: a traditional dish, which I’d had before, of dolsotbibimbap (veggies and meat, rice and egg in a hot stone pot—for W5,000), with all the side dishes---soooooooo yummy! I waddled back to my home base, where I watched some World Cup soccer and planned my next day of sightseeing myself silly.

So, Tuesday I was out by 8am, fully loaded with my pump, tools, helmet and sightseeing gear, and off first to the waterfall that had been closed the night before, Jeongbangpokpo, which is supposedly the only one in Asia that falls into the sea. Of course, very pretty. Then it was off to Yakcheonsa, an astoundingly beautiful Buddhist temple (the coolest I’ve seen yet) that was built between 1987 and 1997, entirely of wood. It feels old, though! The main hall (4 floors!) was full of colorful murals, a gazillion Buddhist figurines, laterns galore, and cool views of the shrine. A service was in progress when I visited, so I got the full effect of the chanting, too. The complex is set just above a tangerine grove. Sigh.

Down the road, I turned off to see Jusangjolli Rocks, from cliffs in a pretty park setting. The rocks are in a nifty hexagonal-column formation, due to the cooling and contraction of lava. Extra good with cheap pineapple on a stick. I didn’t make it to the recommended African Art Museum across the street, figuring I’d hit indoor stuff on a rainy day…

Next stop was Cheonjeyeonpokpo—3 waterfalls in a park with paths of wooden stairways and bridges. You really can’t go wrong with waterfalls, and these were my favorites. There was also a cool view of a sculpture-y bridge, which I later crossed.

Right next door, after overshooting it, I arrived at Yeomiji, which are renowned botanical gardens. I was a tad weary at this point, and was really hoping for a kiddy tram—not that I’d ever seen one in Korea, but the thought occurred to me. Well, lo and behold, inside the gate was such a fabulous creation, and I got a tram tour of all the outdoor gardens—which was enough of a viewing that I didn’t take the time and energy to do it all on foot, too. It was an amazing park: traditional French, Italian, Japanese, Korean (and other?) gardens outside, and an enormous greenhouse with several wings of gardens of different climates. A huge lawn sprawled out from the greenhouse, begging for a Frisbee and a picnic…

I had a decent trip to the next sight (as I kept heading west, I occasionally questioned whether I’d truly have the energy for the long, hilly ride back that might very well be wet…), which was Sanbanggulsa: a temple-in-a-cave halfway up a coastal mountain (which is apparently too holy to climb to the summit). I had a cup of water that falls from the ceiling and supposedly brings long life—watch out, Moses! I got there as the air was going from foggy to what-the-hell-is-three-feet-in-front-of-me, so I did get a nice view of the Yongmeori coast for my climb. There are also two cool newer temples at the base of the mountain, which I explored while eating ice cream before the climb up.

After descending, I walked down to the rocky coast, via a stop at a tourist spot for some fresh kimbap (usually egg, veggies, and spam—yes, spam; they love it here—wrapped in rice and seaweed). The coastline is quite dramatic: cliffs and rocks and waves (it was pretty calm, but oh! the fog!), and I ventured out amongst them and the ajumas selling raw fish and soju for some cool photos. Along the same stretch is the Hamel Monument, which was a Dutch merchant ship wrecked there in 1653. They’ve recreated the ship, with hilarious depictions of scenes of life aboard in the good ol’ days. Lots of photo ops (Koreans take photos NONSTOP, and the women POSE, POSE, POSE—this happens EVERYWHERE and is just ridiculous) amongst drunk, weathered, injured, moaning, and navigating sailor-figures. There was even a short movie about the wreck, with an outstanding example of HORRENDOUS ACTING by some guy pretending to be the captain dragging his weary shipwrecked self along the beach. The best part was that there I was, alone, blonde (a la the Dutch characters populating the ship), sitting on one of the fake tree-stumpy audience stools in the middle of the cabin, and two Koreans who passed through at first thought I was a non-living part of the exhibit! We all had a good laugh over that.

I finally headed back up to the bike, figuring that the ride back would probably be about 90 minutes and sunset was about 2 hours away. I was concerned about the visibility, but remembered that I had a flashing Korean flag light in my pack from the soccer game we’d gone to see in Seoul, so I attached that to my back and set out feeling a little safer. Near the inn, I stopped at the local Emart (department store; we’ve got one near EV) to see if they had a memory stick for my camera (they didn’t) and was stopped by a man who REALLY wanted me to stay at his hotel, despite my protestations that I HAD one already, and finally, when he was trying to take my map from me to direct me there, that it was getting DARK! and that I was on a BIKE! Yeah, I know why you want me to stay at your hotel, mister. Blech.

I got back to the Hikers Inn, where Kevin tried (for a LONG time) to put my photos on his computer and then email them to me so I could empty my memory stick (I gotta get a bigger one!), but was unsuccessful (which drove us both nuts—him especially, as he’s a computer whiz and knows what he’s doing). After too long of that, I headed out and decided not to go to the western side of the island that night, but to wait until the next morning. I stayed at a nicer hotel, closer to the bus station (both of which I’d scouted out the night before in my wanderings). I picked up some dinner and beer on the way, as it was late and I was pooped, checked in, got my sweaty self cleaned up (I did about 50 miles of biking and God knows how many walking), ate, watched some soccer, and organized for the next day.

Wednesday: I hopped a bus for another endless ride, not all that far past where I’d ridden the day before, to Hallim Park, on the western coast. It’s a combo-deal: botanical gardens, folk village, limestone and lava caves, bonsai and stone garden, greenhouses, and random bird exhibits. It would have been good, but all the more elaborate/isolated versions of stuff I had seen or would see (or could have seen) made it sort of unnecessary. I spent about a half an hour sitting on a beach across the street, waded through the turquoise water, and walked along the coast to another park, Geumneungseokmulwon. This was a really low-tech, but very cool site, mostly of stone sculptures—comical, grotesque and often lewd variations of the traditional harubang. Some were in a cool, narrow, stone-wall maze—not for the obese. There were fun mini-folk village recreations, too.

I took another bus to Jeju-si, where the airport and main bus terminal are, and transferred to another bus to Sangumburi, a huge (350m diameter, 100m deep, forested and super-green) volcanic crater, in the eastern-central part of the island. It’s a ‘parasitic cone,’ or secondary volcanic crater, and there are bunches on the island. All kinds of plants and animals thrive there (and some only there) in the undisturbed habitat. Stunning, although I was a little disappointed that I could only hike partway around the rim.

I went to get my bag from the locker room, but it was locked (they’d stopped admitting people but the site wasn’t closed yet), so I ultimately communicated to someone that I needed it opened. That mission was accomplished, but as I was heading for the bus stop (I’d asked and preplanned in Jeju-si as to how to get to my next destination), a man was trying to stop me and tell me something about the bus, which I thought was something along the lines of his cab would be much faster. Apparently, though, the info I’d gotten was wrong and the buses that passed through there stopped running at 6pm. I don’t think he even was a cabbie. Another guy with no more English than the first guy got involved, and I really couldn’t tell if they knew what they were talking about, if they were truly trying to help, or if they were somewhat less kindly intentioned (it’s never really a matter of personal safety in Korea, just a potentially annoying situation with some man who doesn’t get the hint that you aren’t interested). Eventually, a woman, at their arrangement, drove me to another bus stop, at which they’d determined I could get a bus that would get me where I wanted to go. How nice is that?

Of course, I got to the bus stop, and a taxi pulls up who wants to take me directly to my site of choice, so I basically say “Yeah, right, how much?” and he quoted a price that wasn’t all that bad but was more than I wanted to pay, so I said I’d wait for the bus. But he was convinced (or wanted to convince me?) that THAT bus was no longer running. Eventually, for some reason (I’m cute? He wanted to practice his English? He wasn’t gonna get another fare out there anyway?), he offered to take me for W6,000, which was probably only about double what I would have paid for the buses. So, he brought me to the front door of the minbak (rooms over restaurant) I wanted to stay in, and I got there in MUCH less time than I would have on the bus. AND he renewed my faith in Korean men :>)

I splurged on the W30,000 big room with a bed instead of the W20,000 tiny one with an ondol floor, asked the owner where I could get a good dinner of the local and renowned Jeju pork, and followed his directions. I was the only whitey there, and was seated next to three girls. I was perusing the Hangul-only menu, and had narrowed my choices down to two dishes, when one of them asked me if I needed help. She almost fell over when I pointed to the two and asked if the shabu-shabu (don’t know why they had a Japanese dish) or bulgogi would be a better choice. It turned out that the former was served only for two or more, so I had the bulgogi—okay, THAT was now the best meal I’d had in Korea. EXCELLENT. I ate WAY TOO MUCH, as I couldn’t bear to waste it, and it was SOOOOOOGOOOOD! The girls also showed me how to eat the mini crabs that were one of the side dishes (I’m not a crab fan, but it was something different, so I tried it).

I tried to walk some of it off afterwards along the coast (I was on the eastern end of the island now), in the dark, under the moon, atop the cliffs, with the Jeju ponies, in the salty breeze…yeah…doesn’t get much better than that. Had some exchanges with the locals on the way back to the minbak, and it was pretty clear, as it had been elsewhere on the island, that western foreigners are few and far between there—especially those who speak any hangul. They were most impressed (and I speak so very little…).

I settled into bed as early as I could, since the whole point of my coming to this place (Seongsan) was to see the sunrise from this easternmost mountain peak: Ilchulbong. It turned out to only be a 15-minute climb, which is fine at 4:30 am, but not enough to deter the types who have stayed up all night (vs. having the nice quiet sunrise experience…). So, we awaited the rosy-fingered dawning of the new day. The foggy darkness lightened. To foggy lightness. Couldn’t see a damn thing.

I finally had to accept that the experience I’d traveled to the remote town, gotten up early and climbed the mountain for wasn’t going to happen, and that waiting for it wasn’t going to change anything. So, I descended and explored the base of the gorgeous mountain in the morning mist to see what I could see, and then got on with my day. Which, of course, is the perfect metaphor for my coming to Korea for the job at EV… One need not see the sunrise to have deep thoughts at daybreak atop a mountain in strange lands. Jack Handy would be proud.

Back at the minbak, I showered and packed my things, most of which I left to pick up upon my return from a sidetrip to Udo (cow island), off the northeastern shore. It was about a 20-minute walk for a 10-minute ferry ride, and I rented a truly crappy bike, well rusted from the salt air, for a trip around the island’s perimeter. The fog detracted from the view, but the rain held off (it felt like the skies were going to open wide at any time) and I had most of the island to myself, it seemed. I hopped off for a few photos: a coral beach, a black-sand beach, endless stone-wall mazes, and the haenyeo (diving women, most well known and numerous on Jeju and Udo. They dive for shellfish with shockingly little gear, and are an ageing, soon-to-be dying, breed). I was surprised to see military guys on the island, too, but there they were.

The round trip was 2 hours of very easy cycling (didn’t need better than a crappy bike), after which I ferried back, picked up my stuff, and caught a bus (taxi drivers tried to convince me that there wasn’t one coming) to Manjanggul (he overshot my stop by a good kilometer, as one of the tires was in the process of falling off during my ride and he was busy radioing folks…and then I had a 2.5km walk, with all my stuff, to the site—but got a lift for the last km…exactly when it started raining), which is the world’s longest system of lava tube caves (13.4km—tourists can walk about 1km in). Pretty cool—literally chilly, as in a 30-degree(F) drop—and very impressive. It’s dark, drippy, and slippery, and I was glad of my mini flashlight, rainjacket and good shoes.

In the cave, the three girls next to whom I’d sat at dinner the night before, spotted me and we stopped for a fun howdydo of coincidence. We were going in opposite directions, though, so we went our own ways. When I emerged from the caves, the rain had stopped, and I had lunch (noodles, black bean sauce, side dishes) at a small restaurant before walking to the Gimnyeong Maze (as in European hedge-style) down the road. As I was leaving, it started raining the way it can here: hard. I ducked into the tourism office to cover myself and my bag, and had a quick English lesson with the gals behind the counter (they were trying to use the word ‘restroom’ for ‘lounge,’ which, of course, is logical).

I caught up to my three Korean girlfriends (they were University students in Seoul on vacation) by accident on the way to the maze, and we did it together, which was good silly fun. They were on more or less the same schedule I was, except that I had an extra two hours before my flight, so we shared a cab back to the airport and I hopped out early to see a couple of the sights in the main city, since I hadn’t seen them when I arrived.

In Jeju-si, I did a quick trip through the Jeju Folk and Natural History Museum (a quote at an exhibit about a fertility ritual ceremony: “It was a common wish for Cheju women to bare male children.”) and then a walk through the beautiful grounds of Samseonghyeol, Jeju’s most important shrine (supposedly the island’s birthplace). (also loved a quote about a site where “Confucian scholars soaked themselves for studying.”)

I walked over to Gwandeokjeong and the Mok Office, a 15th-century pavilion and administrative center. I didn’t have enough time to tour it, but it was partially under construction and looked a whole lot like other places I’d already seen, so I wasn’t heartbroken. I hailed a cab and was at the airport in 10 minutes for my flight an hour later. I windowshopped, bought some Jeju cactus (!) chocolates to share with my co-workers and a kimbap snack, and boarded the plane for the trip home. No problem catching the 2 buses back from the airport, was home by 10. A great action-packed trip!

There were several sites I was sorry to miss, and I was especially sad to not climb Hallasan, the mountain in the center of the island, and Korea’s tallest. It would have taken a whole day, though, and if it had rained it might have really sucked, and if it had been really foggy, the summit would have been disappointing, so I decided not to do it. Boohoo.

A side-note: I am really lucky to have learned to read the Hangul lettering, because a LOT of signs had no English lettering, and I would have missed stuff.

Another: One of the great things about Korea is that there are luggage lockers EVERYWHERE—train stations, tourist sites, etc, and there is virtually no crime—so you can travel with all your stuff between hotel checkout and checkin, and always be able to leave it somewhere convenient and safe. Covered bike racks are usually to found at these locations, too. Hooray!

The rest of that week was more or less uneventful, aside from the usual EV ridiculousness. I did have a meeting to discuss a theatre piece that several teachers are writing for a performance at Heyri, which was exciting because I was actually getting to use my creative skills…imagine that… I also missed an EV-wide game of Capture the Flag, which was clearly, from the enthusiastic hollering, and excellent time. But, hey, I was working on the Heyri project and I had to pack for my next trip—for which I was getting up at 5am. And that’ll be my next posting; I’ve gotta go run some auditions and then around the soccer field. Hey, hey, USA, USA all the way!