As the sun begins to burst through the clouds of spring here in Korea, my longing for blue waves and sandy beaches has grown strong. So when Buddha's birthday (a national holiday) popped on a Friday this year, I decided it was a perfect chance to head for the shore.
After going through a number of potential sites for our get-away weekend, my friends and I decided on Goeje Island, on the southern coast of the peninsula. My new friend Paul generously volunteered his driving services for the weekend, and our plans were settled.
To beat the madness of holiday traffic, we elected to head out of town on Thursday night - late. About three hours into our late night/early morning drive, we crossed the bridge onto Goeje as the sun peeked over the hundreds of small, green islands just off the coast. As I crawled out of the van from my half-sleep, I was greeted by a beautiful, quiet inlet sprinkled with leafy trees, tourist hotels, and gentle waves. It was also almost as windy as it was beautiful. It was still just before the sun was up completely, so didn't exactly find ourselves in a tropical paradise, but it was beautiful nonetheless.
As our search commenced for a place to set up camp, we drove along the coast, stopping for rest and views, I felt like I was breathing in an entirely new air into my lungs. It was fresh, salty, and brimming with oxygen. It gave me a new energy to fight my grogginess, and I was genuinely excited to be here.
We finally settled on an almost empty sandy beach, just across a small bay from a little, isolated island. Our tents set up, our van unpacked, it was time to chill. And chill we did. The sun was out in full force, and unfortunately the wind was too. It proved a bit too much for one of our tents, as one of our poles snapped under the force of the wind. It certainly didn't put a dent in our day though, as we carried on through the day resting, playing beach soccer, and leaving our busy city lives behind us. As no beach camping is complete without a proper fire, we piled up some wood and barbecued our hamburgers on cozy beach bonfire.
The following morning, I peeked outside of my tent to see a beautifully calm day - sunshine and fresh, clean, windless air. Now was my chance to carry on doing nothing but soaking up the rays. My temptation to jump in for a swim finally caved, despite the chilly water teeming with some of the biggest jellyfish I've ever seen. Nevertheless, I took a dip, and felt more refreshed than I had in a long time.
Goeje is a place the simply embodies the Korean version of seaside relaxation. Although I'm left with a pretty comprehensive sunburn, it was a great trip, and I'm thankful I got to spend it with good friends.
(Thanks to Gen, Luke & Kimberly for the photos!)
Korean city life is a busy, crowded reality for the 1.5 million people who call Daejeon their home. With all of the excitements of neon lights, packed subways, and trendy skyscrapers comes the occasional, inevitable desire to get away from it all.
What I found so wonderful about Gyeongju was that it was so different from Daejeon. Don't get me wrong here - I've come to somehow enjoy the madness of urban Korean life, with all it's energy and absurdity. City life in Korea is exciting, but I've felt that I was living in only half of the Korean circle of life. With all of these brand new apartment complexes popping up everywhere, where was the history here? What was this place like before the department stores and karaoke halls?
After my 2 hour bus ride from Daejeon, I walked into the Gyeongju inter-city express terminal, and a part of this country I hadn't stepped foot in before. I checked into my hostel for the weekend, Nahbi Guesthouse, which ended up being a fantastic place to crash for a get-away weekend.
http://www.nahbiguesthouse.com/
My first destination in Gyeongju was Bulguksa Temple, one of two UNESCO World Heritage sites in the area. While I had visited a number of Korean Buddhist temples before Bulguksa, I could immediately tell why this place had it's UNESCO status. From the ornate sloping roofs to the intricacies of the framework paintings, Bulguksa just emanated beauty. Even with the hordes of tourists and families crawling all over the complex, the peace and serenity of the leafy trees, still ponds, and ancient architecture overpowered any distractions.
Moving on from Bulguksa (which was tough to do), I made my way up the sloped path toward Seokgoram Grotto, the other UNESCO site in Gyeongju. As I climbed toward the top ridge-line of the hillside, I could see a valley full of rural communities, and a landscape filled with rolling green hills. At the top, I paid my entrance fee and joined the pilgrimage of tourists flocking to see Seokgoram, a Buddhist grotto complete with a stunning carve-out of Buddha, in pristinely preserved granite. No photos were allowed here, and this policy was enforced by a single, elderly Buddhist nun in the corner, whose job I did not envy.
After a sweaty but worthwhile hike, I descended the historical hillside to my last stop for the day - the National Museum of Gyeongju. Looking back, I wish I had more energy and time to go through this place, because it was absolutely packed full of artifacts, national treasures, and artwork that could have taken up at least a full day of my life, and at least a full page of my blog.
Starving from my day of historical exploration, I returned to the hostel for a quick shower and advice for dinner spots in town. I ended up in a small, two-room family restaurant with about four things on the menu. I ordered the one thing I recognized - 된장 찌개, which is basically like Korean miso soup. Before my food even arrived, I was greeted by a far-from-sober "ajoshi," an elderly Korean gentleman. He observed me order in Korean, which he interpreted as me being fluent in the language. This couldn't be farther from the truth, but we began a broken conversation about Gyeongju, and him asking me about my perceptions of Korea. As he continued to throw down the soju (Korean vodka, kind of), he became even more excited, and I became more motivated to finish my meal. Inevitably, I was offered s shot of soju, which I was culturally obligated to take. Really. He was delighted at this, and offered me the rest of the bottle, but I politely and apologetically told him I was unable to be his drinking buddy tonight. All in all, it was a fun dinner, and one which let me finish my day with a smile on my face.
The next morning, I ate my modest hostel breakfast and set out for my day hike in Gyeongju National Park, just south of town. In perfect Gyeongju form, this area was an impressive blend of natural and historical beauty. As a climbed toward the summit of Namsan peak, I passed by statues, tombs, and carvings, brilliantly preserved throughout the centuries of their existence. It was a vacation for the mind and body, as I hiked through the pines groves, breathing the familiar smell of evergreen forests, briefly taking me back to my home in Colorado. As I stopped for water breaks, I looked up to see statues staring at me, just like they must have stared at so many other hikers, pilgrims, and soldiers over the many years. Through countless wars and colonialism, these stone relics have lived on, undoubtedly forcing a sense of humility upon their viewers, generation after generation.
I found a real peace on Namsan, one that could perhaps only be found within a setting of such history and natural beauty, coexisting in a powerful force for the senses and mind alike. As I descended back into the world of modern humanity, I was dumped out into a village that reeked of beef production. Due to the intense smell, I was not surprised when I passed by a barn of Korean barbecue-in-the-making. I was in the middle of a cow town, and began poking around for any sign of bus stops, or any other connection to the rest of the world. After asking around, I found a probably 20 year old signpost with the washed out words "Bus Stop" bleeding from the rusty metal. It did end up being my ride back into town, thankfully.
On my way back into Gyeongju, I made one last stop at Anapji Pond, a famous park and Gyeongju landmark. The part was literally blanketed with yellow flowers, about waist high. As I walked through the field of yellow, I passed by an ancient observatory, and a centuries-old ice cellar. It seemed that history was just inescapable in this town. I ended my park stroll at Anapji, a reconstructed pond & palace area just across from the museum. This ended up being the perfect place to conclude my Gyeongju trip, as it too blended the elements of history and nature into peace and serenity, as I walked around the quiet pond, dotted with pagodas and recreated palatial structures.
As I stepped back onto by Daejeon-bound bus that evening, I couldn't help feeling a much more profound appreciation for this country, which seems to be simultaneously ancient and modern, as it zooms further into the 21st century and toward the top of the world's economy.
