A Nice Night for a Hike

For the first time since 1991 Hangeul Day was recognized as an official public holiday in South Korea. "What's the deal with Hangeul?" you ask, using your best (probably terrible) Jerry Seinfeld impersonation? Well, Hangeul is just a fancy word (actual Korean word) for the Korean alphabet which was so graciously invented by King Sejong the Great of Choseon and officially indoctrinated some 567 years ago. On October 9th, (January 15th if you live in North Korea in which case you aren't reading this blog anyway), schools, offices, (some) businesses, and (no) hospitals were closed for the day so that the people could celebrate all 40 characters properly. In spite of only being barely literate with the Korean language, we (more on that later) decided to spend our entire day off in the comfort of our beds, sleeping until the early evening. Why? Because in the wee hours of the morning we were in Busan, racing to the top of Jangsan, a mountain that faces to the east...and the sea that occupies that area...east...of Korea...

Who and/or what were we racing against and why was this particular race being held under the guise of darkness? The simple answer is: we were racing against the sun. Jangsan is famous for affording beautiful views of the sunrise as it breaches the horizon east of the sea...the sea that lies east...of Korea...

This was never intended to be a race though. Especially not against an adversary as formidable and consistent (thankfully) as that giant blinding light in the sky. The question then is this: where did we go wrong? And how many times did we go there? The answers lie in the text that follows, which I've titled:

The Search for Hangeul: A Hangeul Day Celebration

Part One: I Would Celebrate Hangeul Day by Reading the Trail Markers if There Were Only Some Trail Markers Marking this Trail That I'm On OR: (How We Added 400 Meters in 40 Minutes)

Like all memorable quests, ours (myself, Caroline and our pals Jeff and Alyssa who devoted followers of this blog might remember from such posts as this one) began in a train station at around 10:30 in the evening. Having boarded the final train for Busan Station, spirits were high as we anticipated an easy 2 hour hike to the top of Jangsan. Jeff and I had filled our packs with tools and provisions: a portable, gas powered grill, one small pot for boiling water, one french press, one small plastic bag of coffee. The girls were carrying oatmeal and fruit. Each of use had our own 2 liter bottle of water and someone was carrying an extra bottle for boiling with. I, of course, had forgotten my flashlight.

Research was done. The train would arrive in Busan about 90 minutes after departing Daegu. We'd have about an hour to kill near the station and we decided that it would best be spent fueling ourselves with coffee. The plan was to find a 24 hour coffee shop, (which is sometimes easier than finding a coffee shop that opens before 10 AM if you can make sense of that), where we would waste about an hour getting good and caffeinated before cabbing it to the park. Ideally, we'd begin the hike around 2:30 AM. The sun was due to rise around 5:30 so we'd be able to have breakfast at the top while we waited. 

The train arrives in Busan as scheduled but it's here that our seemingly flawless plan begins to go awry. All of the cafes, even the one with a big "24 hrs" window display, are closed. We settle for four cups of coffee-flavored-water at the local Lotteria, a fast food chain likened to McDonalds but more accurately comparable to some fast food knock off you're likely to find in an Indiana rest stop along Interstate 80. After "finishing" our "coffee" we head for the cab stand in front of the train station.

The streets are empty so the cab ride is quick and simple, and we're dropped off about ten minutes away from the park's entrance. Having wasted no time up to this point, the four of us make our way to the large circular area (full of exercise equipment and old men and women exercising on said equipment...after midnight...on a Wednesday...) where the main trailheads are located. It's here that our night takes a turn in the wrong direction...literally...

At the center of this outdoor fitness center, there is a large map. According to the map, the right most path leads to the peak, which is labeled "Peak" and estimated to be about 2200 meters away. We head to the right and begin slowly ascending towards the top...or so we think. Twenty minutes later we come across the first trail marker since the giant map. It reads "PEAK 2600 meters". Somehow, the same place that was 2200 meters away from the start of the trail, was now 400 meters further. Confused, thoroughly, we continued on...

After about forty minutes, all trail markers have disappeared...or at least all of the trail markers that read "PEAK xxxx m". Eventually we come to a fork with the sign pointing right telling us that it leads to a village...which is appearing on a sign for the first time...and a trail leading left which again leads to a place that was previously unlisted. At this exact moment, a pack of young Koreans on ATVs come charging up the trail behind us. Perfect! we think. We know enough Korean to ask them directions to the top of the mountain. Unfortunately, these young guys are so dumbfounded that the four of us are hiking to the top of a mountain at this hour, that they spend quite some time laughing at us and asking us why we're doing what we're doing. Finally, one of them jogs a few feet up the leftward trail and tells us that we're almost at the top.  The top, he says, is at the end of the trail going left.

We thank them and they leave but something seems strange. At the beginning of the trail, the peak was 2200 meters away. The trail heading left marks the final destination in that direction as being 500 meters away. There is no way we'd hiked 1700 meters in an hour, especially since we were climbing so gradually that we could still see some the other peaks above us. A decision needed to be made.

Here's what we knew:

The hike, according to multiple resources, should take 2 hours at the most.

The trail should have been heavily signed.

The trail wasn't supposed to be especially steep, but it should begin to climb almost immediately.

There were multiple peaks to hike to, some being deeper in the mountain.

There was a military base somewhere on the mountain.

There were areas sectioned off because of landmines.

After a quick deliberation, we decided it best to hustle back to the area with the large map...or...if you're scoring at home...the bottom of the mountain.

Part Two: In Honor of Hangeul Day I am Now Reading Dozens of Trail Markers that All Seemingly Lead to Nowhere But In the Same Direction OR: (How Many Trails Can Go Left and Still Terminate in 500 Meters?)

Back at the beginning, we searched the map for a trail leading left that might give us a decent view to the east of the mountain. We settled for Anbu, which was (supposedly) only 1900 meters away and was marked as a peak. It also appeared to be on the eastern face of the mountain. Could this have been the destination that we were looking for to begin with? It only took about 30 minutes to get back to the bottom, so we still had roughly 2 hours before the sun was due to rise. With a bit of luck, we would be able to make it to Anbu with enough time to spare for coffee and oatmeal.

Unlike our first attempt, this trail was rapidly climbing and was heavily marked with signage. The only problem being, signs literally pointed in every direction imaginable and at every junction, destinations had either disappeared completely or were being called by different names. Of course, Anbu was one such destination. Frustrated, we continued on, choosing our course based on which "trail" appeared to be changing elevation the quickest.

Having powered through for more than an hour, we reached another clearing full of signs for trails, (and also more exercise equipment), one of which indicated that Anbu was 300 meters away. A short time later, we had reached Anbu...a small clearing among some tall pine trees...with trail markers...about six of them...one of which read "PEAK 900m". It was the first sign to indicate the mountain's peak since we'd embarked on our second attempt. 

We emerged from the trees following a trail that lead through a clearing and up towards a radio tower. We reached the peak with an hour to spare and the only remaining challenge being the wind, which blew in strong from over the ocean and made lighting the gas stove extremely difficult (and probably dangerous). Luckily, we were able to keep the flame burning long enough to boil water for coffee.

And there it is--an extremely mediocre sunrise thanks in large part to the clouds that moved in right before dawn. I think there's an old cliche about the journey being the best part of blah blah blah, and that certainly holds true in this case. There's nothing quite like getting lost in the woods at three in the morning in a foreign country only to finally find your way just in time to brave the elements with aluminum foil blankets...on top of a mountain...

Whatever. Happy Hangeul Day.

Busan -- Jeongwol Daeboreum Fire Festival

Daeboreum, (대보름), which means Great Full Moon, celebrates the first full moon of the lunar calendar.  Originally, farmers burned away the dry grass between their rice fields in order to rid them of insects before planting new crops.  Nowadays, large piles of bamboo and straw are burned for good health and fortune in the coming year.

There were bonfires to be found everywhere in Korea, but we, (Caroline, Kristin, Josh and myself), opted for Gwangalli Beach in Busan.  The festivities were not set to kick off until the evening, so we decided to walk around and enjoy the scenery.

just building a bridge

who put that hill there?

this is probably 1/3 of the total length

Josh and I really had our hearts set on getting to the top floor of one of these shiny buildings.  His plan, which I fully supported, was to just show up and knock on doors until someone answered.  We'd then tell them that we were English teachers and we wanted to photograph their condo for a lesson about the different rooms in a house.  We never made it to the buildings though because they were much further away than they originally appeared to be.  We started out walking in their general direction but then gave up when we realized that swimming there was probably the quickest option.

I'm not sure who this guy is but I'd like to shake his hand

Back down at the beach, the final preparations were in place, and the pile was set to become a torch.  I should mention that before the fire is lit, people offer something to the fire.  Some offerings consisted of fruits.  Others were written messages that were tied to a rope.

Some offerings appeared to be empty bottles of water, soju, and makgeolli, (or maybe just trash).

Caroline and Kristin tying one on

The beach became a fireball, as ash and god knows what else rained down all over us.  Some people began to join hands and dance around the fire while others rushed in to hurl their final offerings into the inferno.  Police officers formed a perimeter and politely blew whistles if anyone approached the blaze, (they didn't stop anyone, they just blew on their whistles to let the perpetrator know that it was being passively frowned upon).  We hung around for a while, (until the scent shifted from bonfire to garbage), and then made our way back to Daegu.

A Chance Encounter

I almost forgot about our encounter with an extremely rare, (thought to be extinct and certainly not indigenous to this part of the world), Blue Toed Wild Josh.

This poor little guy was more afraid of us than we were of him so we did the best we could to release him back into the wild.

Busan: Jagalchi

A few weeks ago we traveled to Busan for the International Fireworks Festival. I've heard the festival is really a sight but unfortunately, because of the torrents of rain, I'll have to wait until next year to see things exploding in the sky.

Busan was by no means a bust though. Busan, the 2nd or 3rd largest city in Korea, (I could probably look this up but I'm going to be lazy), is located just southeast of Daegu, on the Sea of Japan. Even for late October, it was warm enough to run around in the water, and that's exactly what we did on Friday night when we arrived.

As I said, Saturday was a complete washout. It rained extremely hard for 30 minute intervals. The rest of the time, it just rained steadily. We made the best of the situation though. Our first stop was Jagalchi Fish Market. The market is located right on the water so we were able to watch some pretty impressive fishing vessels head in with the morning catch.

Let me explain how Jagalchi Fish Market works. The ground floor is basically a living menu. Each vendor has a designated area on one of the top floors for preparing and serving their goods. 

Step One: Find something identifiable while keeping in mind that you will eat that very fish a few minutes later. If find yourself growing particularly fond of a specific Octopus, step away, unless you respect it enough to devour it raw. It's tentacles will still be writhing around on the plate and they will attach themselves to the inside of your mouth. If you really think you're up for the fight, get ready to chew hard and fast. Don't dishonor yourself or the fish by letting it crawl down your throat, causing you to probably choke to death in front of everyone. The people are busy here. They have enough fish to clean and they certainly don't need to waste their time mopping you up off of the floor.

Step Two: Stand clear of the squid! They're feisty little bastards. We watched one leap from it's basket and nearly send two young girls into cardiac arrest. I was also lucky enough to be assaulted by the same squid that we were going to eat. I have to give it to this guy, he put up a fight, but in the end, I digested him.

Step Three: Head upstairs and get ready to eat. That's basically it. Pick some fish, watch out for the live ones, and then chew thoroughly.  

We circled the bottom floor once before deciding on our meal. We were lucky enough to meet a vendor who spoke pretty good English so we ordered from his baskets o' fish. Most of our meal would be sashimi, which is just slices of raw fish. We had tuna, what I believe to have been fluke or flounder, octopus tentacles, (as previously documented), squid, (again, see above), two grilled fish that were white, flaky, and delicious, (the nice woman who served us forced our friend to eat the eye ball. Really wish I would have recorded that but I was too busy fighting with tentacles), and some type of shellfish whose innards can only be described as looking intestinal. I would have taken more pictures but I wanted to eat my lunch before it flopped back into the sea.