Exploring the Soul of Asia.

No, really, Korea uses that as a Tourism slogan. I think it's hysterical.

On Tuesday, Amber and I both work up around 8. She'd slept a solid 11 hours, and was lucky--she'd pretty much kicked her Jet Lag in a single day. We talked about our plans--I was leaving on Thursday to meet back up with Mac before heading back to Busan, and she was meeting her boyfriend at the airport on Friday, but for the next couple of days, we were both on our own.

Despite the obvious chance for us to explore the city together, we somehow passed up on the opportunity, and went our separate ways. She took off around 9:30 to drop her stuff off at another hostel (saying this one was too small and a bit too public for what she wanted), and then explore the city, and I hung around long enough to check e-mail and play catch up a bit with the blog (as I was now nearly a week behind) and then took off myself.

My plan was to explore a couple of Ancient Korean palaces, two of the five major palaces that are scattered throughout the heart of the bustling metropolis.

When I arrived at my first destination, Changdeokgung, I discovered that unlike the other palaces, here you were not allowed inside without a guided tour by a licensed guide, except on Thursdays. It reminded me a bit of the system in place in Greece, only even stricter, you couldn't even wander on your own.

I would find out later that the layout of Changdeokgung actually sortof forces this arrangement, as there are so many nooks and crannies and side buildings that a tourist could wander off into, explore, and damage, and there is simply no way to practically staff the park in such a way as to make it practical to keep it safe from the thousands of visitors it has every day.

So, as little as I like forced guided tours (preferring to wander on my own if possible), I looked at the schedule and discovered that an English tour had left ten minutes before, and another one wouldn't leave for almost three hours!

I didn't want to change the schedule for my whole day, so I screwed up my courage and asked if I could still get a ticket for the tour that had just left. The ticket lady agreed, but said I would "have to run" and I nodded. At the gate, they waved me on, pointing me through an ornate Korean gate into the inner courtyard, where I found a mixed group of westerners and Asians from other countries, being lectured by a pretty young Korean girl with a sequined black parasol and white kid gloves.
I did learn a few helpful things from her lecture, but there were also explanation signs throughout the park, and I wish I'd had time to stop and read them all.

After the second stop on the tour, since I'd joined the group, I heard a woman's voice say "Patrick!" behind me. It was Amber, literally one of only two human beings in all of Seoul who knew who I was. We had, without any coordination or discussion, chosen the same palace and the same tour.

This turned out to be a bonus, as we had the chance then to trade cameras and get pictures of each other as we wandered through the palace. The palace itself was beautiful, with the stately, open, almost barren feel that Korean royalty seemed to prefer and create when they were commissioning buildings.

It connects, however, to the palace gardens, and they were included in our tour. These particular gardens are recognized as a UNESCO world heritage site for being some of the best examples of Asian Architecture blended with local foliage in a classic setting, and they did not disappoint. Perfectly square lily ponds with junipers growing on islands in the center served as the centerpiece before ancient studies and summer retreats, set back among ancient sundappled trees. It was beautiful.
When we'd finished exploring the gardens, and had a good look at a 700 year old Chinese Juniper tree that grew near the palace, we found ourselves back at the main gate. Amber was starving, having missed breakfast, and her guidebook had recommended a nearby street of tea shops, market booths of Asian goods (Celadon pottery, jewerly, chopsticks and iconically Asian souvenirs). It also promised excellent Korean food. Since it was only a couple of blocks away, we walked and talked, telling each other stories about travel and the places we'd been, and places we wanted to go. When we arrived, we discovered a tiny Korean shop in an alley, with stone pot Bibimbap and Bulgogi. I recommended the Bibimbap to her and had the bulgogi myself. It was wonderful, and it gave us a chance to talk a little about Korean food, and the little I know about it, which was fun.

Afterward, we wandered through small shops, her haggling with Jewelry sellers and me keeping an eye out for a very special set of chopsticks. We eventually were winding through tiny alleys, and since they were so picturesque, and I knew my readers would be dying to know what Amber looked like, I got her permission for a picture.

On our way back towards the subway, we discovered a cheerfully animated ice cream vendor, probably 17 years old, with a really sticky variety of ice cream we'd never seen before. Of course we had to stop and try it, and he gave us some great photographs while we were there. They wound up on Amber's camera, and she's promised to e-mail them to me when she gets the chance. Once we'd finished walking through the market, we boarded the subway and headed for a Bhuddist temple area her guidebook recommended for a really fantastic walking trail. It turned out to be a jackpot. We wandered past Shamanist shrines (no pictures, of course) and took a few pictures along the way. Eventually, we came to a sign, entirely in Korean, but with a "no" arrow that we thought might be telling us hiking was no longer allowed, even though the path continued on un broken and with no rope, or caution take to imply there was anything out of the ordinary.

We decided to ignore it, and take our chances. We snuck furtively past the sign, and discovered other worshipers higher up the hill, near a small Buddha carved in the face of the rock. Amber took the lead and wanted to climb higher, so up we went, the trail dwindling to a nature hike, individual footholds becoming harder and harder to find as we clambered over rocks and ducked under small coniferous trees.

Eventually, we reached repaired portion of the ancient wall of Seoul city, well worth the hike, and then, turning a corner and walking under a brush thicket that from a distance looked impenetrable but from up close was clear at ground level and could be ducked under, we found a really magnificent view of Seoul, and a really remarkable rock from which to take a few pictures.
Amber snapped this one of me while we were there.

The view was amazing, but the trip down was even more of an adventure than trip up, sliding down narrow rock faces and trying not fall in the dust. This should give you some idea of the steepness of the path.
When we'd survived the trip, dusty, sweaty, and tired, we went to a sprawling Korean market, full of clothing vendors, shoe shops, and miscellaneous wares. It was a bazaar if ever I've seen one, and the goods on sale varied from umbrellas to running shoes to food on sticks to call girl outfits (vintage dresses, schoolgirl's and sailors uniforms, booty shorts and belly dancer's garb, all mixed together an a garish array of cheerful sensuality).

After, I bid my goodbyes to Amber, who stuck around to shop a while longer, and promised to send her an e-mail, then headed off to see a Korean martial arts comedy peformance called "Jump."

Next: Being the audience's token Big White Guy can be fun--or--"I've never seen that axe before in my life!"