Seoraksan, Part 2

Forgive the belated posting here, I have been lacking internet for the past couple of weeks.  Anyway, I went to Seoraksan for Lunar New Year.

Seoraksan did not end up being the relaxing getaway that I was hoping for. Looking back on the whole trip, we spent way too much of our vacation on the road (even if the bus was barely moving). No, relaxing it was not.




An incense shrine against the mountains.



In darkness we stood at a bus stop in Sokcho, not entirely confident that we were in the right place. It was our hope to hop on a city bus that would take us to Seorak-dong. Here we would find a hotel with a Jacuzzi or at least a giant TV. The man looking like he was ready to scale Everest at the bus stop was reassuring.

Our back up plan, should the bus not come, was to take a cab. This would have been a costly mistake. After the bus finally came, we spent close to 45 minutes driving at first along the shore and then up the gradual incline at the base of Seoraksan National Park. For a long time we drove in total darkness save a few convenience stores lit by dim night-lights.

That taxi ride would have been costly.

Someday, I will stop assuming that when guide books mention a Noraebang, it doesn’t necessarily mean that a place will be hopping with neon.

Sarcasm and feigned bitterness aside, what would it be saying if this great mountain park had been so developed that love motels sprouted from its trees.

The problem is that I have become spoiled when it comes to hotels. Even at home, I always loved hotels. I don’t really know why. I used to have life-goal in which I could live in a hotel permanently. I realize now that this is called homelessness. Still, coming to Korea and being able to afford rooms with hot tubs, giant televisions, and steam showers has set me up for disappointment.

Sorak Garden Resortel. What I remember is that it had a large lobby with a guy watching television. It was night and he welcomed us in and quickly arranged rooms for us.

If you are a solo traveler I would back away from this place. It wasn’t sketchy and the man at the counter was really friendly it just had a run-down feel that bummed me out.

It wasn’t that it lacked a bathtub (it did, it also lacked any hot water), or a fully functioning TV (only a handful of channels worked so I watched short track and ski jumping) it was that it was like a bigger version of my apartment but with no warmth or character. I refer to warmth in both atmosphere and temperature.

The “concierge” told me that our rooms had once been two singles, but each had a wall knocked out to make two rooms: a bedroom, a larger open space for yo’s (sleeping mats) a “bathroom” and whatnot.

If I went with a whole bunch of friends and we stayed in one room it probably would have been a cool room. Heck, there was even a little kitchen area. In any case, the place wouldn’t have seen so bleak and lonely to me. So, I watched TV with my four imaginary friends and ended up having to use a floor mat as a blanket because of the cold.

Seoraksan National Park was definitely worth the trip. We went in with the assumption that we probably wouldn’t walk all the way to the summit and therefore were not disappointed when that didn’t happen. After paying our entrance fee and storing our bags we set off on a trail that would eventually come to a couple of waterfalls (Yukdamp Pokpo and Biryong Pokpo).

We passed the main entrance, turned to our left, and then crossed a bridge over a largely emptied river. Already the views of the surrounding peaks were extraordinary. They might not be the tallest mountains around, but their granite peaks ripping upwards from the trees here and there give it all a dramatic feel. It all felt rough and natural. I appreciated the difference in feelings between Cheongju and Seoraksan.

The trail we followed was not very long (a bit over 2km I think) and wasn’t generally very difficult. There were a few parts that were a bit steep but any argument for it being a difficult hike could be negated by the fact that the trail did in fact have metal stairs.

The rusted and grated stairs would stretch across the river whose source was the waterfall and our destination, and would hug where the rock had been cut away by erosion. This river probably flowed powerfully in the rainy season, but on that weekend it was largely subdued by ice.

Early on, we passed a kind of concession area. I would call it a concession stand but it was a bit more than that, while definitely not being one of the folk villages that are common on Korea’s mountains. Here snacks were sold.

We passed a woman giving samples of homemade berry juice. Presumably she had made it herself from mountain berries and then bottled it (old soju bottle) to be sold for around 10,000W. She gave us a sample, proudly saying “no alcohol.” It tasted good and was refreshing in a sharp but sweet sort of way. It was also very clearly booze. It tasted exactly like blackberry brandy.

I would buy a bottle on our way back and give it to Han as a thank you for saving my camera. She told me later that even her dad was surprised at the amount of alcohol contained in non-alcoholic mountain juice.

We came at last to the waterfalls. They were frozen: cascading ice into a ripples pond covered in crusted snow. It was pretty. A few people sat around as we snapped some photos. A man meditated off towards the edge of the little pond. After a break we turned and headed back.

After learning that the cable car was out the question (the day was wearing on and the light was soon to be fading) we walked along a more well traveled path. I didn’t even feign disappointment over the cable car. It rose steeply straight into the highest crags of the mountain. The only scenery I would have seen from the ride would have been what my camera shot as I sat in the corner with my head down.

This path led to a clearing in which sat an enormous bronze Buddha. I knew none of this at the time but that likeness is significant enough to have made me feel humble for being in its presence even after the fact. It also made me feel a bit like a fool for not even knowing it was there in the first place.

For a good amount of time we watched as people lit incense, prayed, meditated, and generally showed a huge amount of respect for this huge sculpture. I walked back and forth, switching frequently between my normal lens and my zoom. The weather was becoming chilly and the fresh air was occasionally overpowered by incense.

I found out later that inside this statue are three pieces of the Buddha’s sari. The statue, like the red and blue bridges all around, represent the desire for a unified country.

Further along the path is a colorful temple with scalloped tiles. Two elaborately colored temple guardians stand in the dark on either side of the entrance. The temple, a compound of buildings, stands on a hill and is on the edge of a river. It is serene. It is Sinheungsa and it dates back to either 653 or 657 AD. It has been destroyed and rebuilt a number of times but it is still there.

Sometimes being in an ancient place is pretty incredible.

As darkness fell we made our way back to another hotel, further down in Sokcho.

The next morning I walked onto a jetty while I waited for Ricky and Lauren. I have never been to the beach in the middle of winter. I expected it to be bleak and desolate but it wasn’t. Kids played in the sand feet away from snow. Families walked along the paths and bought food from vendors as though they didn’t notice the chill in the air. I sat for a while photographing the waves as they crashed onto rocks or sand.

Further down, the beach is lined with barbed wire and guard towers poke out of the trees. Tank traps dot the highways if you go too much further to the north.

I then spent hours stuck in Seoul traffic trying to get back to Cheongju.

Read more...

Seoraksan Part 1: In which our hero tavels for a long time and loses his most valued posession

If I have learned anything about internal travel in Korea it is this: the news isn’t usually wrong when it predicts horrendous traffic.
After the eternity that was the duration of winter intensives finally ended, Korea was given a much needed vacation.  This was good news.  The overloaded class schedule and bouncing from school to school on Fridays without breaks had wrecked me.  I was looking forward to catching up on some sleep.
The plan, for myself and a couple of friends (Rick and Lauren) was to get from our respective homes in central Korea to the northeast.  We were making for Seoraksan National Park in Gangwon Province. 
One of the things that I will miss about Korea is that you are never very far from a mountain to hike on.  Even if it is not a very large mountain, there is usually some payoff.  Sure, Watchusett Mountain might offer some nice glimpses of Fitchburg and exotic New Hampshire, but the local hike here has a fortress that predates colonial America by a long ways. 
Seoraksan, it should be stated, is not a “local hike.”  It is almost as far from our cities as you can get.  What complicated this issue further was that we were attempting to get there on arguably the biggest travel weekend of the Korean Year.  Lunar New Year was the occasion of our vacation and it was the reason why everyone with a car in Korea takes to the road to reach their home villages and families that they left behind in on their way to urban modernity.  The result is that highways around major cities become something of a nightmare. 
The only other time of year that can compete with Lunar New Year is Chuseok.  We traveled during Chuseok too, but we had the benefit of a KTX (bullet train) that took us from Daejeon to our final destination for Gyeongju.  The KTX was a benefit we would not be enjoying for our relaxing Seoraksan vacation. 
Relaxing would also not be one of our enjoyments.
We would cross the peninsula via bus.  When I asked my coworkers how I might get from Cheongju or Daejeon to Seoraksan, Han informed me that we would have to switch busses a handful of times.  Further, she said that not only would we have to deal with the nightmare traffic, but we would also have to transfer bus stations at one point. 
This last part was what worried me the most.  Reading Korean is no problem.  Bus stations usually have destinations written in English.  What could be a problem was getting from one station to another in time to catch another bus.  Frankly, I was starting to recall the trip to Dacheon Beach in the summer.  I was wondering which one of us would be barfed on.
Han tried her best to simplify things.  Ara, the new teacher, did as well:
“I think you should just stay home.  Or you can just go to Songmisan (the local national park).”
This was actually a valid idea.  I wanted and still want to go to Songmisan.  I even meant to do so last weekend but I was sidetracked by eating lunch.
The thing is, when it comes to vacations I am stubborn.  I rarely budge from my initial plan and it is difficult for me to accept any compromises.  I don’t mean to say that I do not go with the flow and enjoy the unexpected- I am fine while I am ON vacation.  What I mean is that once I decided that I was going to Seoraksan, there was no way in hell that I wasn’t going to go to Seoraksan.  The complicated bus route and the potential 10 hour bus ride (it was ordinarily 4 or so hours) didn’t have the slightest impact.  In the end I conceded a day and we left on Thursday instead of Wednesday to avoid the bulk of the traffic.
The plan:
1. Head to Daejeon Wednesday and stay in my first of 3 motels. 
2. From Daejeon take 3.5 hour bus to Gangneum in the northeast.
3. Go from the intercity bus terminal to the express bus terminal (it could have been the other way around)
4. Take a bus from Gangneum to Sokcho, a bit to the southwest.  Once here, I was ready to call it a success.
5. Take a city bus to Seorak-dong, and find a motel in the national park. 

The reality was not much different from the plan save travel times.  I made it to Daejeon with no problems (like I’ve done many times before).  I stayed at the Sharp Motel near the bus terminal and, as always, it was awesome.  Rick and Lauren treated me to a dinner at TGIF so the day was a total success. 
The next day we woke up bright and early and met at the bus terminal (bright and early for hag won teachers is different from that of normal people: 9am).
The bus, according to the website left at 9:45am.  We then spent a couple of hours waiting around and drinking coffee counting down until 11:30ish when the bus actually left.
One of the benefits of being in Korea alone, is that more often than not nobody wants to sit with you on the bus.  On the rare instance when I am not put in a row with just one seat, the person assigned to sit next to me usually gets up and leaves once the bus starts rolling.  Maybe I should be insulted.  Maybe I should just stop showering at home so I can always sit alone on the bus.
So, for the entire 5 or so hours of the 3.5 hour bus ride, I stared out the window and spoke only to Ricky or Lauren when the guy on the bus TV did something weird.
Rick and I searched for food when the bus made a quick rest stop.  After getting on 3 busses because we failed to remember where our bus was parked we sat down and enjoyed our lunch.
It was called a kebab.  It was a skinny hotdog with spicy sauce wrapped in a soggy tortilla.  How I made it the rest of the way without crapping my pants, I do not know.
After a very long time the plains gave away to outcroppings of the Taebaek mountain range.  We came at last to a city bus terminal where we sat until the bus driver politely informed us to get off as we were at our destination.  It was here that I did the dumbest thing I have ever done.
I rushed out of the bus and stood on the sidewalk for a moment after the bus drove away.  I then realized that I had left a bag containing close to $2,000 worth of camera / lenses on the bus.  I sprinted after it but it was gone.
My joy for vacation was wracked with devastation.  If I wasn’t in shock I probably would have cried.  Not only was that camera important to me, but it was how I made the bulk of my income at home.  For a time I told myself that it was ok, I had to upgrade anyway, but it was all a lie. 
I would be the only moron on top of the mountain looking through the viewfinder and winding the film of a disposable film camera.
In a panic I called Han.  I felt bad for bothering her during the holiday but I saw not other option.  She was my Obi-Wan. 
For an hour things looked bleak.  Things looked real bleak.  She managed to get a hold of the bus company and eventually the driver.  She relayed the message to him that the camera had been left on the back of the bus.  He replied that there was nothing.  He would check the CCTV but he wasn’t hopeful.
“I am sorry Tom,” Han said.  I hung up the phone and felt ill. 
I was drinking coffee with Rick and Lauren in despair when Han called to tell me that they had found my camera, and if I could wait until 6pm, then I could pick it up at the company office upstairs.
Words can’t really describe my relief.  Oh, wait, yes they can: imagine losing your really expensive still camera / cheaper video camera / lens / etc. for an hour and then having them returned.  That is what it felt like.
So, camera bag firmly in hand, we embarked on the second to last bus of the night: Sokcho.  Luck was with us in that too, as we did not have to go to another bus station to get to Sokcho, as I had feared.
The way to Sokcho is interesting.  For one thing, the coastal road forces you to remember the conflict with North Korea.  Vast expanses of the shore are lined with barbed wire.  Here and there, there were manned guard towers casting halogen into the black sea under the moonlight.  According to the guidebook, there were several tank traps along this route to protect against invasion.
So, 10 hours or so after we left Daejeon, we stepped off the bus into the night of Sokcho at the base of Seoraksan.  There, we breathed in clean air for the first time in a long time.

Read more...