All posts by Claire

About Claire

Wandering (and wondering) development professional and aspiring aid worker. Contact me on anticipationofwonder[at]gmail[dot]com

Sunday in Seoul

Adventures, Food, Seoul, , ,

After a lovely early dinner/late lunch in Insadong, we decided to head out to Itaewon, the expat ‘party central’ of Seoul. It was, of course, raining. And also Halloween, which although something I have never paid much attention to, is rather a big deal in a country that seems slavishly to follow American trends and definitely a big deal in an area of Seoul frequented by an awful lot of foreigners. As a result the evening was a little strange. I think the best way to explain it – which is unfortunately impossible because I simply don’t have enough pictures – would be a crazy collage of witches and monsters, devils and princesses, crowded pavements, spiderweb decorations in clubs, queues of people everywhere, rushing and wandering, and lots and lots of rain. Given the craziness it was, unsurprisingly, a rather late night, including a 2 hours wait in the rain to find a cab home. We both, consequently, slept in on Sunday morning.

Which was bliss. I was staying in the guesthouse at Anna’s university (where she lives and teaches) and the room was warm and comfortable and a lovely place to wake up on a chilly but (marvellously) not-raining morning.

Eventually we did get and after a cup of coffee, headed out into the world. We were off in search of some sort of yummy early lunch. We initially tried the area around where Anna lives but clearly the local places had all decided that it would be pointless to be open on a Sunday morning if your clientèle was students, so we hopped a bus and went in search of somewhere else. This was the first time I’d really seen the city without rain and looking out from that bus at the beautiful streets and houses, all settled into mountain slopes and dotted between tall trees, this may have been the moment when I started to fall a little in love with Seoul.

We got off the bus and went to look for a restaurant Anna had previously spotted that she was keen to try. It was a very pretty building serving, from what we could gather, Korean food. At the entrance, however, we got caught up in a crowd of other people and it all seemed very busy so we quietly slipped out and headed on down the road, keeping that for another day ‘yet knowing how way leads on to way’…

After walking for a bit we spotted a Chinese restaurant that looked interesting. We also spotted a branch of my bank, which made me happy as I could draw a little more money, just in case. Along the road in front of the Chinese restaurant and the bank were flowers in pots along a fence. This is a fairly common sight here. Korea does pavement gardens and most of them are pretty and, at least at the moment, full of flowers. This bit of pavement had flowers in some of the pots but alternated with them were – I kid you not – very pretty ornamental lettuces or cabbages.

The restaurant was on the second floor and we were led past a mini-garden with water features to a quiet table looking out over the road – a particularly pretty view – and brought jasmine tea and the menu. We decided to try the set-menu (minimum two people). Sets are fairly common in Korea and this one turned out to be a multi-course feast. We started with Wanton soup, followed by Dimsum – some prawn, some spicy vegetable. Next they brought out a seafood hotpot each – packed with all manner of sea creatures and delightfully rich. This was followed by one of my favourite Chinese flavours, sweet and sour pork. Along with this we each got a big bowl of onion and soy sauce noodles. Finally, dessert – sesame-coated sweet balls of something with the consistency of marzipan and a dark, sweet centre which may have had something to do with beans. And of course coffee. A very good meal, far too large to finish everything, at a very reasonable price. We went home happy and settled down to let the lunch digest. At that point, we split up for a while, Anna to sleep and me to wander around her campus with my camera.

I have mentioned before that I have a deep love for university campuses. Apart from the fact that they are generally (barring RAU) beautiful, there is a feeling of being away from the real world that I struggle to find anywhere else. As with so many campuses, this one is tree-filled and full of attractive sets of buildings and has a tendency to have strange sculptures dotted around, sculptures which I’m sure are very meaningful but which generally turn quite quickly into just another quirk of the campus, as with, for example, the bicycles at Rhodes.

This chilly autumn afternoon meander took me along just the roads of the campus. There is a very pretty mountain behind it, but I wasn’t feeling energetic after the large lunch, and anyway, there was so much to drink in, enjoy and photograph right there. I stopped for a few moments and watched a soccer match on astro, enjoying the sensation of normal students doing normal things on a Sunday afternoon. At one point, I found a water-feature near the entrance of the university complete with a statue of two dragons almost intertwined over a large, round ball. All around me, and looking up at the mountains, the autumn colours were brilliant and beautiful. Walking along past some benches, I was shouted at by a large crow, trying to make me go away. At some places on the campus, it is possible to look out over the highway passing below and other, autumn-coloured hills across the little valley. I wandered for about an hour and then headed back to the room.

By this time, Anna was up and we set off again to see a little more of the city. We did attempt to see another palace but it was closed, so we walked through a market instead. This market, like so many here, is really just an alley between buildings, or a road with hawkers on it – I’m never quite sure how to describe them. The shops sold everything from underwear to party-hats and the hawkers a range of socks and shoes and street-foods. We walked for a while, popping in and out of shops, and then decided to grab some early dinner at a Korean restaurant. I had crumbed pork-cutlets with cheese and spent most of the meal fighting with the chopsticks. I really am trying to become proficient with chopsticks but I still feel silly whenever I pick them up.

And then it was time to head home. We got a little lost and – because I was cold and ready to give up – took a taxi home instead of continuing to look for the bus and spent a very happy few hours drinking coffee and chatting. A lovely gentle Sunday in a lovely gentle city, and one I could happily repeat very soon.

The next morning I we got up and had an early lunch at the restaurant on campus – I had yummy seafood bibimbap with all sorts of sea things including delicious baby octopuses (octopii?) – before catching the bus back to Seoul station, buying a ticket and hopping on the KTX back to Daegu. All in all a super weekend with a lovely friend in a city I definitely plan to visit again.

Insadong and bossam in the rain

Food, Seoul, ,
Insa-dong and bossam in the rain
After a lovely visit to Chungdeokgung Palace in the rain, and rather damp, Anna and I headed off to find something to eat and a good glass of wine. Anna has been in Seoul for about 2 months, so she has started to do some exploring and find her way around. The two little streets of Insa-dong, all lined with tiny little traditional Korean restaurants (and the occasional motel), are a delightful find.
The bus from the palace took us the short distance to the area we were looking for. We could probably have walked but to be honest it was quite nice to be out of the rain for a little. By this stage the heavens had opened and it was pouring and rather cold.
We got off the bus and walked past the immigration office and headed down a little alley. One of the things you learn fairly quickly in Korea is that some of the best spots are down a little alley – and also that the alleys are safe enough to wander down with very little chance of anything going wrong. This little alley opened into a little pedestrian street of restaurants. The first place on the left had a few chairs and tables on the veranda of a little place. We looked for a second and then there was another place on the other side of the road. And another and another. We looked into widows and doorways, at water-features and tiny indoor gardens. Although it was only about 3 in the afternoon, the sky was dark and low with rain and cloud and the lights of the places we passed were inviting but we decided to look around before we picked a place.
About half way down the first little road, we stopped to look at the signboard outside one little restaurant. Anna’s words of wisdom that we should pick a place with pictures and prices outside being a good bet, we were looking for a place like this. At the time, however, the fairy lights outside one of the restaurants further down the little streets lured us on. We kept walking, enchanted over and over again by the glimpses through doorways of the places we passed.
Down the road and around the corner, we wandered back up a parallel road, filled with more these delightful little places. On the right, we passed the entrance to an indoor market, filled with lights and people on a Saturday afternoon. There was also a wine bar with tables and chairs outside, looking a little forlorn in the dark afternoon rain. At the the end of the road was a place almost totally hidden by creepers and trees and flowers, except for a little doorway and a place with a large sign proclaiming it a vegetarian restaurant.
After walking for a bit in the rain and the cold, we found ourselves back outside the first place with the pictures and the prices where we’d stopped. It seemed that this was fated to be our stop for the afternoon. It was a good choice.
The restaurant was delightfully small. The waiter (or perhaps the maitre de) asked if we wanted a room or a table, simultaneously letting us know that we didn’t need to take off our shoes. We followed him to a little table for two next to a row of floor to ceiling glass windows looking out onto a rainy garden with lights scattered through it, a wild garden with plants climbing over each other like a place enchanted.
We ordered some wine (which turned out not to be as lovely as we’d hoped – more proof that Chilean wines are not to the taste of South African girls) and sat chatting over a glass while we considered the menu. Eventually – it really did take us a while to get around to it – we ordered Bossam. As usual in Korea, the meal began with many dishes being delivered to the table – soups and side dishes and dipping sauces and of course kimchi. After that, the main dish – steamed pork with leaves of lettuce and sesame to wrap it in, arrived. We ate slowly and enjoyed the conversation and the wine (a little). The meal was good but, as with most Korean foods, the combinations of flavours are sometimes a little odd. This is not to say we didn’t enjoy it but, as my friend pointed out, it’s not necessarily a cuisine that could be called delicious. It was good enough, when combined with a red wine on a rainy autumn day and the wonderful conversation of a good friend, all in the delightful little corner of the world that is Insa-dong, to make for a delightful afternoon.

After a lovely visit to Chungdeokgung Palace in the rain, and rather damp, Anna and I headed off to find something to eat and a good glass of wine. Anna has been in Seoul for about 2 months, so she has started to do some exploring and find her way around. The two little streets of Insadong, all lined with tiny little traditional Korean restaurants (and the occasional motel), are one of her great finds.

The bus from the palace took us the short distance to the area we were looking for. We could probably have walked but to be honest it was quite nice to be out of the rain. By this stage the heavens had opened and it was pouring and rather cold.

We got off the bus, walked past the immigration office and headed down a little alley. One of the things you learn fairly quickly in Korea is that some of the best spots are down a little alley – and that the alleys are safe enough to wander down. This little alley opened into a little pedestrian street of restaurants. The first place on the left had a few chairs and tables on the veranda. We looked for a second and then there was another place on the other side of the road. And another and another. We looked into widows and doorways, at water-features and tiny indoor gardens. Although it was only about 3 in the afternoon, the sky was dark and low with rain and cloud and the lights of the places we passed were inviting but we decided to look around.

About half way down the first little road, we stopped to look at the signboard outside one little restaurant. Anna’s words of wisdom that we should pick a place with pictures and prices outside being a good bet, we were looking for a place like this. At the time, however, the fairy lights outside one of the restaurants further down the little streets lured us on. We kept walking, enchanted over and over again by warm glimpses through doorways.

Down the road and around the corner, we wandered back up a parallel road, filled with more of these delightful little places. On the right, we passed the entrance to an indoor market, filled with lights and people on a Saturday afternoon. There was also a wine bar with tables and chairs outside looking forlorn on a rainy afternoon. At the the end of the road was a place almost totally hidden by creepers and trees and flowers, except for a little doorway, and a place with a large sign proclaiming it a vegetarian restaurant.

After walking for a bit in the rain and the cold, we found ourselves back outside the first place with the pictures and the prices. It seemed that this was fated to be our stop for the afternoon. It was a good choice.

The restaurant was delightfully small but all wood and warmth with two chandeliers. The waiter (or perhaps the maitre de) asked if we wanted a room or a table, simultaneously letting us know that we didn’t need to take off our shoes. We followed him to a little table for two, next to a row of floor to ceiling glass windows looking out onto a rainy garden with lights scattered through-out, a wild garden with plants climbing over each other like a place enchanted.

We ordered some wine (which turned out not to be as lovely as we’d hoped – more proof that Chilean wines are not to the taste of South Africans) and sat chatting over a glass while we considered the menu. Eventually – it really did take us a while to get around to it – we ordered bossam. As usual in Korea, the meal began with many dishes being delivered to the table – soups and side dishes and dipping sauces and, of course, kimchi. After that, the main dish – steamed pork with leaves of lettuce and sesame to wrap it in – arrived.

We ate slowly and enjoyed the conversation and the wine (a little). The meal was good but, as with most Korean foods, the combinations of flavours are sometimes a little odd. This is not to say we didn’t enjoy it but, as my friend pointed out, it’s not necessarily a cuisine that could be called delicious. It was good enough, when combined with a red wine on a rainy autumn day and the wonderful conversation of a good friend, all in the beautiful little corner of the world that is Insadong, to make for a delightful afternoon.

Changdeokgung Palace and magic

Adventures, Seoul,

There are many people in the world who travel to far away lands and then proceed to do nothing but sit by pools in 5-star hotels and party in Western-style bars. There are others who visit a new place and immediately seek out the museums and true historical sites. I fit somewhere in between but definitely closer to the museums and monuments people than the hotels and hot-spots types. I like to discover a place by walking around and looking at things. Sometimes those things turn out to be monuments or historical places. In Seoul, for example, I saw an historically important palace.

Changdeokgung Palace complex is particularly important because it is apparently the best preserved in Seoul, as well as being a UNESCO world heritage site.  The complex was apparently completed in 1412 and home to Korean royalty as recently as 1910. It was the principle palace for many of the Joseon Kings who ruled the area for 300 years. The palace was burnt down during the Japanese invasion in 1592 and the story goes that either during that invasion or one of the others the Japanese actually took parts of the palace with them. It was all subsequently restored, however, and now stands empty but in perfect condition in it’s beautiful garden grounds. One site describes this as the ‘most truly Korean’ of all the palaces in it’s architecture, the choice to build the palace up and down the many terraces in the gardens and the integration of the buildings into the natural settings. This could all be fanciful but it definitely felt as though the palaces belonged in their surroundings.

We took the bus to the palace – the gate of which is clearly visible from the road, making it super-easy to find from the bus, paid our 3000 won entry fee and joined the crowds at the gate. It turns out  (which we didn’t realise at the time) that it is not permissible to see the palace without being part of a guided tour, and as we had missed the English tour, we joined up with the next large group – we think they were speaking Korean. Tours are offered in Korean, English, Chinese and possibly Japanese. It turns out, on further investigation, that tours are obligatory every day except Thursdays, when there are no guided tours, the entry fee increases to 15000 won and you are allowed to wander around by yourself, perhaps indicating the advantages of researching before venturing out on adventures.

This being a Saturday afternoon, we trailed along behind a group. It didn’t really matter, though. There were occasional English signs explaining what one part or another of the palace was used for or when it was built. To be honest, because this palace was used for so long and Korean political history during that period seems to be rather convoluted and involve an awful lot of alliances with, attempts to prevent invasion by and eventual invasions by foreign powers, plus the standard palace intrigue and occasional citizen unhappiness, it would be really difficult to make sense of it all and establish any sort of mental chronology without a lot more information and context than could be provided by information boards and an 80-minute tour. I want to learn more about the palace and have started to read bits and pieces  since, but all that is something that can happen any time with a book and/or the internet. It has little, apart from providing context, to do with actually being in the place and walking around a real-life palace.

Perhaps some context of my own at this point: Africa doesn’t really go in for palaces much. At least Southern Africa doesn’t. This doesn’t mean we don’t have royals and court intrigue, but there are fewer buildings. Because I also haven’t travelled to Europe and not really to many other places, I don’t think I’ve ever been into a palace before. I suppose it’s one of those moments when you realise history is real. It’s also a realisation that as much as my skin may be pale, my context is thoroughly African. In my mind, the system of tribal leadership and rulers like Shaka and Moshoeshoe are real monarchies. They are the ones that I have grown up learning about and which have therefore become tangible and real in my mind. I know, intellectually, that Europe and other areas had many royals and still has some floating around but they have always been as ephemeral to me as characters in story books or pop stars on TV. Before this weekend, I didn’t know I felt this way. I realise that that is an odd thing to say, but it seems to be true. Walking around that palace in the pouring rain, the idea of royalty, of kings and queens and princes and queen mothers actually living in these rooms and sitting in these halls and walking between the buildings, on a day just like that day – a rainy, chilly autumn afternoon – suddenly seemed, for the first time, so interesting and real.

At the palace, beyond the magnificent gate, called Tonhwamun and the oldest wooden gate in Seoul, we wandered across little stone bridges, past strategically-placed trees in magnificent autumn colours. The next entrance led us to a large rectangular courtyard, with corridors of wooden shutters or doors on the two longer sides and an entrance at either short end. These entrances are what arches would be in some other architectural styles – open spaces leading from one area to another – except that here they are shaped more like large rectangular open doorways, each with a tradition Korean roof over the top. By somewhat strange coincidence, in the taxi home last night (it was too cold for the bus), I found myself inadvertently watching a Korean period drama on the the mini, in-car TV and I could just picture those soldiers lining up in that courtyard. Of course, I have no idea if the period was right but I found it so easy to imagine real soldiers and servants actually being and doing in that space.

Some of the areas of the palace were a little sad. We came across one signboard explaining that what we were looking at was Daejojeon, the king and queen’s residence, but that this was also the place where the Joseon dynasty held its last cabinet meeting to deliberate on the annexation of Korea by Japan. My imagination conjured up images of royal banquets and dinners and lives of joys and complications, all overlayed with the imagined picture that last desperate meeting and the sense of impending loss because the Japanese are coming.

At another point, we stopped at a slightly separate building, built later and in a slightly different style, from what we could gather, to accommodate the king taking a second wife. This area includes a beautiful round, tower-balcony that reminded me a lot of the widow’s walks I saw in Key West, Florida. I can picture the ousted, forgotten first wife, whose crime was her inability to give the king a son, standing on that tower for hours looking out over the palace grounds that used to be hers. Of course, I could have misunderstood the history completely, but that is what I pictured at the time.

There are areas of the palace that still contain some furniture, such as tables and chairs, writing desks and something that could be a throne or a very impressive bed, all of which is fascinatingly ornate and appears even more so in the otherwise empty rooms. All over there are heavy wooden doors and thin paper screens, green and red and blue and white paint, painted flowers and designs and incredibly detailed, busy decorations on the underside of roofs. Walking around, it felt like all the rooms and corridors and courtyards were inter-leading and connected – the place must be something of a maze to find your way around without a map. There was also a sense of regularity; because almost all walls and windows and buildings use the same colour scheme, the variations in design like the lattice-windows installed by one of the kings (apparently indicating his taste for foreign ideas)  provide texture rather than disrupting the whole.

We did not see the lotus pond or a couple of other interesting parts of the palace complex but after 45 minutes we were fairly thoroughly soaked and so decided to leave that for another day and get out of the rain. I really enjoyed seeing the palace. The friend I was with has seen one or two of the others and says that this is the most spectacular, if somewhat annoyingly controlled (in that you can’t explore alone). I’d like to see some others and return to this one on another visit to Seoul. Of course, I’d also like to see Changdoekgung in the sunshine but there was something magical about seeing it on a rainy autumn day; somehow the rain and the season made it so much more authentic, so much easier to imagine not just the feasts and royal occasions but kings and queens and emperors really living there and just going about their day.