Going to Gyeongju II: Hiking Namsan and Other Soul Satisfying Fare

Our day trip begins at a traditional restaurant that had obligingly opened early to accommodate our group of six. As soon as we settle down onto the floor mats, side dishes (called banchan, 반찬) and mountain vegetable bibimbap (sanchae bibimbap, 산채 비빔밥) mix-ins start arriving on our table. This will be our fuel during the all-day hike ensuing right after breakfast.  Today is devoted to conquering Namsan Mountain in Gyeongju.

 

A bowl of sanchae bibimbap starts with a bowl of sticky white rice topped with vegetables. Ours had spinach, bean sprouts, onions, mushrooms, and various unidentifiable green and twiggy mountain vegetation. To that, we each add some red pepper paste (gochujang, 고추장) or fermented soybean paste (doenjang, 된장).  

I ate up all the spicy, tangy-dressed lettuce salad and most of my bibimbap. Our other banchan included green pancakes, fried zucchini, marinated mushrooms, fish, radishes, and more. At the end, we were treated to some homemade sweet rice drink, which I'm pretty sure is called shikhae (식헤). It was light and sweet and cold, and really really delicious.

                                                                                                                                                          From the restaurant, we started onto Namsan Mountain's (남산) western face, entering near three mounds that are the Samneung Three Royal Tombs (삼릉). These tombs hold the remains of three Silla Dynasty kings: Adalla, Sindeok, and Gyeongmyeong, the 8th, 53rd, and 54th rulers, respectively.

Just a short way up the Samneung Valley (삼릉골) trail that would lead us further and further into the Namsan District of Gyeongju National Park, we see our first Buddha of the day, perched up straight but whose head was taken from him at some point.  

                          

After this one, we pass a handful more of the Buddhas scattered over Namsan. They look relaxed and untroubled. Our group stops and takes photos at each, admiring how long they've been there and the care it took to carve and assemble them. My favorite is pictured below. He's the Seated Stone Buddha, sitting on a lotus petal and expelling evil by touching the ground. It was made in the 8th or 9th century, with some restoration work done just a couple years ago. 

Next, we encounter six figures etched onto the side of a rock. Two are Buddhas, four Bodhisattvas. We have to study the rock for a few minutes to allow our eyes to follow the intersecting lines.

The most awe-striking Buddha of the day is the seven-meter-tall seated Seokgayeorae image carved on the side of Namsan. He directly looks at the Geomobong peak. Our hike takes us directly past the Buddha, and later on, we get a second view from higher up.

When we make it to the peak, we stop and fuel up with some PB&J's. There's no view from this peak, since we're completely surrounded by forest at this moment. The first treasure on our descent is this three story stone pagoda. The view from here is incredible. There used to be a temple here where the first Korean novel, Geumosinhwa, (written in Chinese) was authored. 

Our hike gets a little tenuous when we have to perform some fancy repelling action. Actually, the whole little part where you need the rope is maybe eight feet tall, but still, awesome.

The last major Buddha we pass on the way down is a seated stone Buddha from the eighth century. Like his friend from earlier, his head has gone missing sometime over the years. He's sitting atop a three wheel pedestal.

We're all famished after our hike, so we hop on the city bus and head toward the more central area of Gyeongju. Dwayne and Yuhee lead us to Sampo Ssambap (쌈밥) Restaurant for a little lunch. Ssambap is when you take some sort of leaf, maybe lettuce or cabbage, and wrap it around some rice, a little meat, condiments, banchan, whatever your preference is. This is awesome in an of itself, but this place was serving up ssambap to the extreme! Out came bowl after bowl after bowl! Side dishes, pastes, fish, meats, custards, until the dishes were completely covering our table! And all this for ￦10,000 per person (aprox. $9). 

After dinner, not quite ready to end our day, we go to one more place for a drink before home. We walk along the backside of a park until we happen upon a restaurant. The place is packed, and rightly so. It's incredibly atmospheric, an open-air restaurant with courtyard tables as well as private tables in side rooms. It's called Dosol Maeul (도솔마을), which means "Stone Pot Village."

We order an appetizer, a mixed tempura-fried vegetable platter that included some tofu and lotus, and some Korean rice wine, dongdong ju (동동주). We are told that dongdong ju is makkeoli's more formidable cousin in terms of it's strength. The taste is unique but really refreshing and delicious. 맛있어요!

When we're all sufficiently fat and happy from the snacks, drinks, and fresh air, we start our walk back toward the intercity bus terminal. Once again, Gyeongju has been a revitalizing and relaxing respite away from Busan. I'm sad to see the day over, but there will be at least one more trip back in our future. 

For more on visiting Gyeongju, see my post on our first trip there.

Sister Visits Busan

Note: This guest post was written by my sister, Crystal, who visited Busan with her husband, Nick, back in March 2011. We thank her for her contribution to Soju Cocktail and for visiting way over here.

A lot has changed since we left Busan on March 14th; we found out that we are having a second baby, we traveled to Arkansas for yet another music festival and we traded our responsible family station wagon in for a “ridiculous” VW bus in which to create family memories. 

But one thing that hasn’t changed since then is how much I loved getting the invitation and opportunity to travel across the world to visit Rose & Shane. Visiting South Korea is something Nick and I would have never done if it weren’t for family being there. I’m super glad that they decided to become temporary residents in what Rose calls “The Land of Contrasts” so that we were able to enjoy all that Busan has to offer.

The contrasts Rose was talking about were instantly apparent. One of the most memorable was the obvious division between the generations of women, the younger generation obsessed with perfecting their faces while the older generation was obsessed with gutting their fish. I never encountered a young lady who didn’t have her eyeliner on to go hiking, and I rarely laid eyes on an older woman who could stand straight after squatting over a pail of fishy entrails. It wasn’t just the people that showed these contrasts, but the scene itself. The bustling city streets set itself against peaceful mountain paths in a way that kept making you forget that the other even existed. Then there were the modern technological advances surrounded by the remnants of past wars; people were taking pictures of rusted barbed wire fences with what looked like a smaller, better Ipad. It was magnificent. And it was fun.

The first night we arrived, Rose & Shane took us to a Korean BBQ. As I will most likely say about almost everything we did while in Busan, the Korean BBQ was definitely one of my favorites. The family-sized portion of meat comes to you raw and then you cook it yourself on a hot skillet or grill set in the middle of the table. When done to your liking, you wrap it in lettuce or sesame leaves and choose your other assorted toppings, like roasted garlic, kimchi, or a spicy sauce. You eat the little wrap with a nice, light, watery beer named Cass or with Soju. I liked the BBQ so much, I requested to go back at least three more times during our visit. 

The next two days were spent at temples. The first temple we visited, Beomeosa, is the temple all the traveler’s websites tell you to go to. Although impressive and large, it was nothing compared to the temple we visited next, Hae Dong Yong Gung. Hae Dong Yong Gung is set atop a rocky shoreline of the Sea of Japan. It has many multi-sized Buddhas, fresh spring water to drink, beautiful temples and scores of worshipers. It was a place to be at peace.

It was not quite so peaceful when we made the trek back in the city. We visited the busy markets in the streets and sampled different street foods. Every street was packed with hungry people looking to buy and sell goods and services.  Although they all looked exactly the same in my eyes, Shane was able to bring us to one 3x5 table that was making these crazy pancake type dishes, filled with chives and who knows what else. I will have to say, whatever they put in there, it was delish.  

One of the great things about Busan is that even though it’s a busy city, it only takes the short walk of a block to get back to peace. The city is on the shoreline, so we were able to spend some time on the beaches as well. Even when in a winter jacket, a beach is relaxing. Watching the water come in, writing messages in the sand, taking pictures with your friends to put on your next record cover, life is good when you’re on the beach.

Did I mention this was all just in the first 2 days?

Weekend in Hwagae, Part II

... Cool mountain air awakes us the next morning. That, and the hanok owner's agitated voice asking us through the papered doors to turn off a forgotten light.                                                 It's Sunday morning in Hadong County (하동군). An hour later, Shane, myself, my sister, and my bro-in-law, begin our hike toward Ssanggyesa, the "Twin Streams" temple located on the fringes of Jirisan National Park.             

Someday I'll learn that proportions on any illustrated tourist map produced in Korea are skewed, and landmarks are farther than they appear. Meaning the walk was much, much longer than expected.           
But it yields some great scenery. A valley to our left, a slow, mostly dried up river running through it. A rolling mountain ridge on our right. Both sides strewn with tea fields, not yet green this early in the year. In one, three goats lay back watching the occasional car pass by. In another, over sized ceramic teapots sit sprinkled amongst the tea, an awkward homage to the plant that keeps this area economically alive. And all along the route, tea houses. One after another, looking mostly quiet at this time in the morning during the tourist off season, tea houses run from spare rooms of homes.       
                                         

We reach the modern Hadong Tea Culture Museum, but decide to skip it. We're much more interested in what's across the road-- a giant hotel that never quite made it to being an actual hotel. It looks like something out of a horror movie. Even wiring is installed. I wonder what's the story behind this failed investment. 

Shortly after passing this landmark, we finally make it to the temple, Ssanggyesa (쌍계사), six kilometers after our starting point. The temple was built in 723 A.D., and, as is so often the case, was destroyed during the Japanese invasion of 1592, then rebuilt again. Most striking here, what sets this temple apart from the others I've seen so far, are the wooden statues. They are imposing and vibrant. My knowledge of Buddhism and its symbols is lacking, but I appreciate their beauty nonetheless. 

I try not to interrupt the spiritual practice of others as we wander through the grounds, snapping pictures. Being at these temples always makes me feel unbalanced; I'm here as a tourist and traveler, looking for a thrilling view, while to others, this is a sacred space. This always leaves me feeling like an intruder, even though the Korean tourism board has provided us maps and signs and ticket takers who speak English. 

We take one of the trails leading away from the temple up into the beginning of Jirisan. We hike for awhile, hoping to reach Buri Waterfalls, but finally turn around, concerned about catching a bus back to Busan. 

We leave the temple grounds, and look for a taxi, a bus stop, or any sort of transportation back to Hwagae. We find none, and no one who can tell us when the next bus is coming around. We start walking. The initial exhilaration of a walk in the countryside has worn off. We gradually grow desperate about saving our legs and not missing the last bus home. In a moment of brilliance, some might say audacity, Shane knocks on the window of the only non-moving manned vehicle we've seen for awhile. He asks the driver, a sole Korean man, through gestures and repeated utterings of the word "Hwagae", if the man will drive us back. Finally, he acquiesces, and we're saved from the consequences of our ill planning. We try to thank the man with a cash gift, but he won't hear of it.

We do catch a bus back to Busan, no problem. I leave Hwagae feeling refreshed and relaxed, ready for another few months of city life. 

Jangsan Hiking, Busan Daytripping

The top of Jangsan rewards those who reach it. The very tippy top of the mountain is chain-link fenced off, a relic of the Korean War, but from where we stand the views are wide. We summited the Haeundae area Jang Mountain after about four and a half hours of hiking, and from here, we can see Haeundae Beach, Centum City, Sajik Stadium, and a small wildfire with a helicopter making a beeline towards it with its load of extinguishing chemicals. A bit unsettling, but it looks under control. 



Shane and I sip red table wine out of plastic Dixie cups along with the rest of the Busan Daytrippers. We found this crew, an ever-changing mashup of folks who get together to hike Busan's thousands of paths, on a local expat forum. They're a fun bunch, the kind of people who think of bringing wine along. 




In the couple hours leading up to this faultless moment on the way up, we had passed by Pokposa, a Buddhist temple. It's Lunar New Year's Day, a traditional day for worship, and it's semi-crowded, yet quiet and peaceful. There's a bowl of fresh fruit and incense on the altar in front of a ten story pagoda, and a grey stone Buddha that faces every direction at once. We hear soft chanting floating out through the temple doors, and we peek into the temple buildings, feeling like voyeurs intruding into a sacred time and space.  

We hike on for a long while, until we reach stop number two. We approach a shack, which our leader Joe tells us is a great little stop for some mountain food. After a few minutes of our searching, an old man crawls out of his sleeping shack (it's now about one in the afternoon), and brings us makkeoli, followed by the freshest tofu I've ever tasted and savory, pungent kimchi. Ten of us laugh and eat and celebrate how good it is to be alive, looking over the mountains and the sea. 


Feeling renewed, we continue the hike, walking for a time along a barbwire edged land mine field, here in the middle of a metropolitan city, another lingering remainder of the Korean War. When we come out of this forested length of the hike, the landscape opens up and we're walking the perimeter of a tall grassed field, the kind I'm used to seeing back in the Midwest. This kind of openness is such a rarity here.

After our wine and photo ops on the top, we head down the opposite slope of the mountain. As we come down through the trees, in the distance I see a golden Buddha contrasting against a pine backdrop. When we arrive to Seongbul Temple ten minutes later, we're greeted with the light sweet smell of incense, stone lanterns, and a ten story pagoda. We watch Koreans bow and meditate and pray in front of the Buddhas, and our hike ends with the beauty of Buddhism.

Seoul: At the Top of Namsam

Among my collection of most contented moments in Korea are those standing on mountain tops. Not that I have been to that many mountain tops. Still. In Seoul, that mountain is Namsan. In Hangul, san (산) means mountain, nam (남) means south. South Mountain.


This day, Shane and I skip the slippery winter hike and hitch a ride on the cable car. We've heard from another expat friend of ours that this place is touristy and overrated, but we ignore the cynic and rise up to the peak just as the sun is going down. 


It's a spectacular view, touristy or not. Seoul crawls away from us in every direction, so far it boggles my mind thinking about the number of people inside those buildings. 

Up here, there's a beautiful brightly lit, brightly painted gazebo. Juxtaposed just a few yards away, a couple overpriced restaurants, a few stores selling more than the expected souvenirs: skin care products, teddy bears, and random junk I don't really need to buy at the top of a mountain. That's the thing about Korea, always contrasting, always contradicting, always smacking me in the face with its duality. "You are at the top of a mountain, in the middle of a park, with a spectacular view of a huge metropolis. Soak it in. Buy some stuff." I don't. Though I am strangely drawn to the neon, bell shaped Christmas tree display. Shane and I drool over the gourmet looking restaurant, just one row of seats wide, the entire wall a window overlooking southern Seoul.

Shane and I forgo the ride higher up on N Seoul Tower. It would be another 8,000 won each, and the view from where we are is grandiose without going any higher. The sky is overcast, but the air crisp and calm. Lights below us begin to turn the streets into illuminated rivers of traffic.   

A crowd of families, teenage friends, tourists, and couples amble over the planks of the observation decks, laughing and taking photos. I've seen something like this before, in Florence, Italy: every square inch of the decks' planks covered with locks. Bike locks, keychain locks, heavy duty security locks, pink locks, shiny locks, locks covered in messages of all languages. Locks placed here by optimistic lovers, locking down their hope, promising each other they will always be together. Locks with no keys.

We linger, savoring the changing light. In a few moments, we will take one last look, get in line for the cable car, and play little games with the toddler just ahead of us in the queue. We will smirk at the bad covers of pop Christmas songs playing inside the car, and my mind will meander over the thought about how small I am to a city so huge. Seoul is satisfying, but I feel now more than before that Busan is my place, even if it is only one of my places.

Hiking Geumgang Park to the South Gate

Two steps off the cable car that brought us halfway up the mountain in Geumgang park in Busan, we realize this sprawling city is even more sprawling than previously suspected. Looking down, we see tiny buildings and bridges and metro tracks. Looking around ourselves, it's hard to remember we're in the middle of the city at all. 


Multitudinous paths meander off in opposite directions from the upper loading dock. Ahead, high schoolers sit on boulders, killing their digestive systems with ramyeon and Mountain Dew. Old men sit at plastic tables, their drink of choice makgeolli-- a traditional rice wine. A steeply descending trail lined with battered and faded lanterns guides hikers to one of the many temples tucked in the park. 


We choose yet another path off to the right. Fifteen minutes of walking delivers us to a modern looking temple.  We see buddhas carved into the rocks behind the building, staring serenely at nothing and everything. Huge kimchi pots flank side patio. A man removes his shoes and goes inside. Shane can see a prayer session and an altar. Amidst these traditional elements, an air conditioner, a satellite dish, and a Range Rover remind us that few things remained untouched by modernity. 


We return to the main platform area, and start up the trail toward the South Gate. Sometimes, we feel like we've lost the right way to get there, but then we see families on the trail and are reassured. We pass tiny kitchens serving hot food at plastic tent covered tables. I stop at the worst smelling outhouse I have ever experienced and try to balance over the squatter style toilet. This is easily the worst moment of the day. 


We hike further past a rambunctious group of men playing volley-sock, a game that combines volleyball and soccer on what looks like a small tennis court. More restaurants, even this high up. We're baffled as to how they bring in their inventory each day. A few more feet up our question is partially answered as we pass a couple of cabbage gardens, still thriving this late into November this high up the mountain. 

Finally, we arrive at the South Gate of Geumjeong Sanseong Fortress, built to help protect the city in 1703. All that effort went into such a beautiful structure for not a lot of payoff-- a sign tells us that the fortress fell into disuse because it was too large to maintain. Besides that, by the time the Fortress was finished, the Japanese and Mongol invasions had ended (until the 20th century anyway). The roof of the gate is painted beautifully in vibrant greens, reds, and pale yellows. The walls run seventeen kilometers around, so the East, West, and North gates will wait for another day. We begin our descent, this time taking the paved path. When the path starts to incline, we sit and rest for a few minutes, enjoying the fall solitude before returning to the squeeze of the city.                        

Taking the Cable Car

Sometimes it's hard to work up enough zeal to spend a precious weekend afternoon physically working your body. From time to time, you just want to take the easy way out, lean back, and savor the view. Still, at other times, a good, long workout is in order.

On this particular Saturday Shane and I did both. Between walking to Geumgang Park and hiking even further up from the cable car's unloading dock located 1300 meters up Mount Geumjeong, we got in four hours of hiking. But we skipped the most grueling length of the mountain by riding the cable car.

After entering Geumgang, we paid our ₩ 6,000 each, waited in line with a lovely Korean family who informed us their toddler was terrified of Shane, and hopped in the car.

While my white knuckles strangled the car's handlebars, Shane snapped away with the camera. The view was phenomenal. 

We meandered around the top of the mountain for a few blissful hours before heading down the cable car at sunset.

 

Busan glowed.

Hiking Seunghaksan, Attempt One

Don't let the title fool you, we did make it up the mountain... just not the exact mountain we intended.

We rode the one line subway almost until the edge of town, and when we got off, we quickly realized our need for a compass. Put it on the list. Eventually, taking an educated guess, we landed at the campus of Dong-A University, the city's largest private college. The campus is wedged between two peaks, the buildings snuggly nestled into the side of Seunghak-san (in Korean, the suffix san means mountain). We found a trail up and started on our way. It was steep. Very steep. Kicked my butt steep, but it felt great. Most of the

hike, we didn't have much of a view, being surrounded with pines, but here and there we got an awesome view. To our right, the campus, to our left, the Nakdong river estuary, both a port and bird sanctuary. As we neared the peak, the trees became slanted, as if we had walked into the set of a

haunting movie. When we reached the peak, where we had an even worse view than a hundred years earlier, some Korean women urged us toward another trail, andwe realized we would have much better views at the actual peak of Seunghak-san, just across the way from where we were. Supposedly, the top is covered with meadows, yielding a spectacular view of the city.

Stay tuned for attempt two.