Category Archives: Daegu

Nightlife in Daegu

Daegu, Food, ,
A friend pointed out the other day that I haven’t talked very much about Daegu nightlife on this blog. This is partly because I’m not all that active a part of the nightlife scene but it’s not really fair to a city which has plenty going on, particularly over weekends.
In fact, many people apparently also go out during the week, although after our experience of trying to find somewhere to have dinner on Tuesday night, I’m not sure where they go. I had arranged to have dinner with a friend after work, so we met at the Samdeok Fire Station taxi drop-off point as usual. It was a chilly evening and downtown was strangely empty. I’m used to the area throbbing with crowds and noise on Fridays and Saturdays, so it was odd to see the alleys dark and the streets almost deserted. At one point, on our way to try and find a Mexican place we’d been told about, we walked past a waiter (he was wearing an apron) and a friend playing badminton in the street outside an almost deserted coffee shop – one of the few with lights still on. We contemplated stopping there but it looked more coffee shop than restaurant and we were hungry, so we went on to The Holy Grill. I’ve seen ads for the Holy Grill all over since I got here. It’s run by foreigners and serves ‘comfort food’ (according to the menu). Until this week, I hadn’t actually eaten there. The place is divided into two levels – a second-floor restaurant and a third-floor sports bar (with snack menu). It sounds like this (the two levels) is a fairly recent development. The menu definitely a wide range of what many Westerners would consider comfort food – from Burgers and Steak-rolls (Philly Cheese Steak for the Americans) to a Tex-Mex section and even good old Macaroni and Cheese. In retrospect, I probably should have had the Mac and Cheese. I ordered a burger and it wasn’t bad but I wasn’t overly impressed. I suppose I assumed it would aim to taste like a burger back home, forgetting that what is normal for me is probably not normal for the Americans who are the biggest customer group of this venue. My friend had something Mexican (a burrito?) which she seemed to enjoy, although they didn’t have guacamole, which is a disappointment if you’re going to be a place that serves Mexican food. Not a bad place to go if you’re looking for specific things but I don’t think I’ll be spending all my evenings there.
Oddly, the entrance to the Holy Grill is right next to the spot where many evenings downtown start: Gogo Vinyl. I like cocktails. Living in and later visiting Joburg with friends who are significantly more sophisticated and trendy than me, I was introduced to the wonderful world of cocktails at places like Bar Six in Melville and became quite fond of them. One of the things I secretly love about cocktails is that they’re so sophisticated in their elegant glasses with garnish and, because I am a fan of margaritas in particular, things like salt around the glass. Gogo Vinyl goes in for a whole different style of cocktail. This, along with Viniroo just down the road, is where you get ‘bag-drinks’. Bag-drinks are cocktails over ice in a ziplock-type plastic bag, with a straw. They’re also, from these particular places, cocktails with a ‘alcohol-to-taste’ twist – all at no extra cost. Gogo Vinyl has apparently now opened a proper bar a few doors down but the original Gogo, apart from a tiny number of seats inside, is really a tuck-shop type window onto the street where people buy their bags and then stand around, or sit on the odd benches scattered in the road and drink them. In the heat of summer this is great, although I imagine people may start drifting indoors as the weather cools. Viniroo and Gogo are in direct competition but there isn’t a huge difference in price or variety of options. The cocktails themselves are not fantastic but they’re about as good as can be expected for the price (around 5000 won).
Along the street from the bag-drink places is one of the few restaurants I’ve sampled downtown (as most evenings start rather later than I like to eat, I generally have dinner before going out). Italy-Italy (or Italy & Italy as it’s apparently actually called) is a little pizza/pasta place where you can create your own pizza/pasta from a list of options. When you sit down, each person is handed a check-list style menu where you fill in your name and then start choosing. There are three portion sizes, named something along the lines of hungry, very hungry and starving (that’s not exactly right but something like that) and two options: pizza or pasta. Once you’ve chosen your size and type of food, you choose sauces, pasta-type, toppings and for pizza, the shape of your pizza (heart-shaped pizza anyone?). The food is tasty and the range of options are not bad, even if there are little things missing that you’d find in Western countries and which we all lament every time we go there. I had dinner there a while ago and had a lovely Alfredo Pasta, although the wine wasn’t great, but that may have been our choice of wine. That particular evening, we also went to a lovely little Martini Bar (which was completely empty and had a remarkably uneven wood floor – quirks to remember places by) but I didn’t see an English name at the time and I keep forgetting to ask what it was called.
This block of one street – where Italy-Italy, the bag drink places and Holy Grill are – seems to be the most common meeting place and where most people start their downtown evenings. From there people scatter to various bars, clubs and other restaurant/drinking places. I haven’t been to all that many but I have spent a little time in Organ Bar and Who’s Bob. I’ve avoided  dance clubs so far, partly because they charge cover and because I have yet to walk past a place and be sufficiently excited by the music to want to go in.
The place that ends many evenings – and the place that sometimes shows rugby and therefore makes me happy – is Commune’s – variously also called ‘Commune’, ‘the commune’ and ‘Commune’s Lonely Hearts Club’. It’s a somewhat dark basement bar, with walls painted black with designs and pictures in white, photos of famous rock stars, a drum-set and PA system in the corner and a few tables set around the room. A lot of people do not like this particular bar and talk about it as dodgy and dingy and generally unpleasant. I don’t find it that way at all but I think my perspective may be a little tainted with nostalgia, partly because the atmosphere (and sometimes the music) reminds me a little of CJs, where I spent so many happy nights in during varsity, and partly because this is the first place I went out downtown, so it feels familiar. It probably also appeals less to those who are used to (and like) the sparkly-new, colourful world of the much younger bar-crowd. Some of the other places feel a little like a kindergarten classroom to me in terms of the range of  and the atmosphere – in comparison to Commune’s anyway. My friend and I actually stopped at Commune’s on our way home on Tuesday and the place was deserted except for the barman sitting quietly behind his bar and playing good song after good song – it was odd to be in Commune’s without anyone else there.
All of the above tend to be the haunts of the rare Saturday night when I actually make it out (and all other Saturdays for the rest of the crowd). Fridays are a whole different experience. Near one of the other branches of my school (where a good friend works) is a restaurant/bar called The Hut. At least, I don’t know if it’s actually called that or for that matter if it has an English name at all. Or any name. To us, however, it’s The Hut and it is where people generally gather after work on a Friday. Given that most of us are teaching at Hagwons, ‘after work’ tends to mean somewhere around 10 or 11pm but when that time rolls around the two back tables are pretty much reserved for the foreigner teachers. The place itself apparently used to be a restaurant specifically for men to take their mistresses, which is why there are absolutely no windows. It also appears to be the reason that the wooden poles and decorations carved around the place are somewhat… um… obvious. The main drinks of the place are Dongdongju, Soju and Beer (in large pitchers). These evenings vary in terms of who is there but some things are constant. Like the topics of conversation – school, where everyone is from, things that bother people about Korea and comparisons with home. And the fact that the Ajummas who run the place will bring out a variety of free nibbling-foods at some point. These include cucumber sticks, kimchi (unsurprisingly), other bits and pieces and, which always gets everyone particularly excited, a plate piled with salty fried eggs. There is also an actual menu and they serve all sorts of Korean food, including kimchi pizza. They also do a platter of chickens’ feet – which was ordered by one of the Koreans in the group the other day and thoroughly grossed out the foreigners. It was quite funny to watch.
I have yet to experience one of the karaoke clubs which are apparently so common here. They’re called Noraebangs. I don’t mind karaoke but these sound a little different from karaoke experiences back home. I’m used to karaoke evenings involving a sound system set up in a bar where everyone who wants to puts down his or her name on a list and picks a song and then sings. Here you apparently pay for a room where you pick songs and sing as a small group, just you and your friends, in your own room. So a little different but on my list of things to try at some point.
Ultimately, I still prefer going out to dinner at a good restaurant with friends and an evening of good conversation and laughter to ‘real’ partying but sometimes it’s good to venture out into the somewhat unreal world of Daegu nightlife with some of the other foreigners and relive some of the crazy nights I remember from places like Grahamstown and Stellenbosch, the kind of times that only youth (or the borrowed youth of friends you’re out with) and a transient existence can create.

A friend pointed out the other day that I haven’t talked very much about Daegu nightlife on this blog. This is partly because I’m not all that active a part of the nightlife scene but it’s not really fair to a city which has plenty going on, particularly over weekends.

In fact, many people apparently also go out during the week, although after our experience of trying to find somewhere to have dinner on Tuesday night, I’m not sure where they go. I had arranged to have dinner with a friend after work, so we met at the Samdeok Fire Station taxi drop-off point as usual. It was a chilly evening and downtown was strangely empty. I’m used to the area throbbing with crowds and noise on Fridays and Saturdays, so it was odd to see the alleys dark and the streets almost deserted. At one point, on our way to try and find a Mexican place we’d been told about, we walked past a waiter (he was wearing an apron) and a friend playing badminton in the street outside an almost deserted coffee shop – one of the few with lights still on. We contemplated stopping there but it looked more coffee shop than restaurant and we were hungry, so we went on to The Holy Grill. I’ve seen ads for the Holy Grill all over since I got here. It’s run by foreigners and serves ‘comfort food’ (according to the menu). Until this week, I hadn’t actually eaten there. The place is divided into two levels – a second-floor restaurant and a third-floor sports bar (with snack menu). It sounds like this (the two levels) is a fairly recent development. The menu definitely a wide range of what many Westerners would consider comfort food – from Burgers and Steak-rolls (Philly Cheese Steak for the Americans) to a Tex-Mex section and even good old Macaroni and Cheese. In retrospect, I probably should have had the Mac and Cheese. I ordered a burger and it wasn’t bad but I wasn’t overly impressed. I suppose I assumed it would aim to taste like a burger back home, forgetting that what is normal for me is probably not normal for the Americans who are the biggest customer group of this venue. My friend had something Mexican (a burrito?) which she seemed to enjoy, although they didn’t have guacamole, which is a disappointment if you’re going to be a place that serves Mexican food. Not a bad place to go if you’re looking for specific things but I don’t think I’ll be spending all my evenings there.

Oddly, the entrance to the Holy Grill is right next to the spot where many evenings downtown start: Gogo Vinyl. I like cocktails. Living in and later visiting Joburg with friends who are significantly more sophisticated and trendy than me, I was introduced to the wonderful world of cocktails at places like Bar Six in Melville and became quite fond of them. One of the things I secretly love about cocktails is that they’re so sophisticated in their elegant glasses with garnish and, because I am a fan of margaritas in particular, things like salt around the glass. Gogo Vinyl goes in for a whole different style of cocktail. This, along with Viniroo just down the road, is where you get ‘bag-drinks’. Bag-drinks are cocktails over ice in a ziplock-type plastic bag, with a straw. They’re also, from these particular places, cocktails with a ‘alcohol-to-taste’ twist – all at no extra cost. Gogo Vinyl has apparently now opened a proper bar a few doors down but the original Gogo, apart from a tiny number of seats inside, is really a tuck-shop type window onto the street where people buy their bags and then stand around, or sit on the odd benches scattered in the road and drink them. In the heat of summer this is great, although I imagine people may start drifting indoors as the weather cools. Viniroo and Gogo are in direct competition but there isn’t a huge difference in price or variety of options. The cocktails themselves are not fantastic but they’re not bad for the price (around 5000 won).

Along the street from the bag-drink places is one of the few restaurants I’ve sampled downtown (as most evenings start rather later than I like to eat, I generally have dinner before going out). Italy-Italy (or Italy & Italy as it’s apparently actually called) is a little pizza/pasta place where you can create your own pizza/pasta from a list of options. When you sit down, each person is handed a check-list style menu where you fill in your name and then start choosing. There are three portion sizes, named something along the lines of hungry, very hungry and starving (that’s not exactly right but something like that) and two options: pizza or pasta. Once you’ve chosen your size and type of food, you choose sauces, pasta-type, toppings and for pizza, the shape of your pizza (heart-shaped pizza anyone?). The food is tasty and the range of options are not bad, even if there are little things missing that you’d find in Western countries and which we all lament every time we go there. I had dinner there a while ago and had a lovely Alfredo Pasta, although the wine wasn’t great, but that may have been our choice of wine. That particular evening, we also went to a lovely little Martini Bar (which was completely empty and had a remarkably uneven wood floor – quirks to remember places by) but I didn’t see an English name at the time and I keep forgetting to ask what it was called.

This block of Rodeo Street – where Italy-Italy, the bag drink places and Holy Grill are – seems to be the most common meeting place and where most people start their downtown evenings. From there people scatter to various bars, clubs and other restaurant/drinking places. I haven’t been to all that many but I have spent a little time in Organ Bar and Who’s Bob. I’ve avoided  dance clubs so far, partly because they charge cover and because I have yet to walk past a place and be sufficiently excited by the music to want to go in.

The place that ends many evenings – and the place that sometimes shows rugby and therefore makes me happy – is Communes – variously also called ‘Commune’s’, ‘The Commune’ and ‘Commune’s Lonely Hearts Club’. It’s a somewhat dark basement bar, with walls painted black with designs and pictures in white, photos of famous rock stars, a drum-set and PA system in the corner and a few tables set around the room. A lot of people do not like this particular bar and talk about it as dodgy and dingy and generally unpleasant. I don’t find it that way at all but I think my perspective may be a little tainted with nostalgia, partly because the atmosphere (and sometimes the music) reminds me a little of CJs, where I spent so many happy nights in during varsity, and partly because this is the first place I went out downtown, so it feels familiar. It probably also appeals less to those who are used to (and like) the sparkly-new, colourful world of the much younger bar-crowd. Some of the other places feel a little like a kindergarten classroom to me in terms of the range of  and the atmosphere – in comparison to Commune’s anyway. My friend and I actually stopped at Commune’s on our way home on Tuesday and the place was deserted except for the barman sitting quietly behind his bar and playing good song after good song – it was odd to be in Commune’s without anyone else there.

All of the above tend to be the haunts of the rare Saturday night when I actually make it out (and all other Saturdays for the rest of the crowd). Fridays are a whole different experience. Near one of the other branches of my school (where a good friend works) is a restaurant/bar called The Hut. At least, I don’t know if it’s actually called that or for that matter if it has an English name at all. Or any name. To us, however, it’s The Hut and it is where people generally gather after work on a Friday. Given that most of us are teaching at Hagwons, ‘after work’ tends to mean somewhere around 10 or 11pm but when that time rolls around the two back tables are pretty much reserved for the foreigner teachers. The place itself apparently used to be a restaurant specifically for men to take their mistresses, which is why there are absolutely no windows. It also appears to be the reason that the wooden poles and decorations carved around the place are somewhat… um… obvious. The main drinks of the place are Dongdongju, Soju and Beer (in large pitchers). These evenings vary in terms of who is there but some things are constant. Like the topics of conversation – school, where everyone is from, things that bother people about Korea and comparisons with home. And the fact that the Ajummas who run the place will bring out a variety of free nibbling-foods at some point. These include cucumber sticks, kimchi (unsurprisingly), other bits and pieces and, which always gets everyone particularly excited, a plate piled with salty fried eggs. There is also an actual menu and they serve all sorts of Korean food, including kimchi pizza. They also do a platter of chickens’ feet – which was ordered by one of the Koreans in the group the other day and thoroughly grossed out the foreigners. It was quite funny to watch.

I have yet to experience one of the karaoke clubs which are apparently so common here. They’re called Noraebangs. I don’t mind karaoke but these sound a little different from karaoke experiences back home. I’m used to karaoke evenings involving a sound system set up in a bar where everyone who wants to puts down his or her name on a list and picks a song and then sings. Here you apparently pay for a room where you pick songs and sing as a small group, just you and your friends, in your own room. So a little different but on my list of things to try at some point.

Ultimately, I still prefer going out to dinner at a good restaurant and an evening of good conversation and laughter to ‘real’ partying but sometimes it’s good to venture out into the somewhat unreal world of Daegu nightlife with some of the other foreigners and relive some of the crazy nights I remember from places like Grahamstown and Stellenbosch, the kind of times that only youth (or the borrowed youth of friends you’re out with) and a transient existence can create.

Talking about the weather

Daegu, ,

It feels like just yesterday I was melting in the sweltering heat of Daegu Summer. In fact, it wasn’t long ago at all. When I arrived, three months ago, I had just left a South African Winter and it took me a while to adjust to the hot, humid weather. Despite what the guidebooks may say, Daegu is hot and humid all the time in Summer. The weather will regularly reach high temperatures and it rains all the time. I think I saw more rain in my first few weeks here than I have ever in my life. Perhaps a slight exaggeration, but there was definitely lots of sticky, warm rain.

As September finally arrived, things started to cool down slightly. Instead of days of rain, the weather was warm and clear. There were days that felt a lot like the hot, dry, peaceful Friday afternoons I remember from Grahamstown. It’s probably my favourite kind of weather. Fall also brought light breezes and occasionally stronger wind. For a month, the weather was beautiful. One of the things that will now remind me of Daegu is drinking Pink Lemonade or Iced Cappuccino outside on a warm Autumn night between classes – not sweltering heat, just warm and comfortable with a breath of freshness in the air.

It’s hard to keep exact track of the changing seasons because I’m not sure what it supposed to be happening but Autumn seems now to be winding down to winter and suddenly the warmth is gone. I got back to work after the Chusoek break (all 5 days of it) and wore roughly the same clothes as I was wearing last week. Last week I was starting to feel a little chilly after dark but nothing dramatic. On Monday, I was cold coming home.

And I know that it’s just going to get colder. I’m a little bit nervous about it. I’ve never really experienced proper cold. Several of the friends I’ve made here have said that I shouldn’t worry because it doesn’t really get that cold in Daegu. The fact that they are Canadian makes me a little sceptical. I have a feeling that ‘not that cold’ means something different in South Africa to what it means in Canada.

I even tried to buy a coat. There has been a rack of coats hanging outside a particular store for a week now and they’re quite attractive and reasonably priced. It was a very pretty little white coat, with double row of buttons and a belt. I would have bought it too, but apparently this shop only sells coats for women without breasts. I was a little offended, to be honest, by the way the shop assistant looked smugly at me as if there was something wrong with me and that was why the coat didn’t fit. Particularly because I don’t have particularly large breasts at all. I realise I shouldn’t take it personally – after all, I’m in a country where it’s apparently almost impossible to find a Bra above a C-cup – but it annoyed me.

Some mornings, now, I wake up curled up in a ball, with my shoulders stiff from being hunched over. It’s not freezing, not by a long shot, but I can feel the Summer’s last kiss as it fades into a distant memory. I was reading something the other day that described Daegu as having short, hot, humid Summers and long, dry Winters. I love Winter for it’s grandeur and it’s emptiness but I will admit that this year’s winter, my first Winter in the Northern Hemisphere, the first time I’ll really be exposed to snow, makes me a little nervous. The temperatures now feel a little like the Winters I’m used to, except that it doesn’t really warm up during the day. But this is still the middle of Autumn. I may need to buy more blankets.

The changing weather also makes me feel more foreign than ever. The last two days have been overcast and chilly. I’ve wandered around in a jersey, hunched over and feeling the cold. Around me, some Koreans are starting to dress a bit more warmly but there are still people in T-shirts, school kids in nothing but shirtsleeves and women in tiny, little skirts. The other foreigners look comfortable and cool and talk about how much more pleasant this is than the boiling hot summer. I sit shivering in the corner trying hard to figure out why humans ever left the warm, welcoming embrace of a sun-drenched continent.

I have friends who have adjusted to weather in all manner of places and I’m told the trick with the cold is to find particularly comfortable and pretty winter outer-wear. If I can just find a coat and some gloves and a hat that will fit, perhaps that will make the cold better.

It feels like just yesterday I was melting in the sweltering heat of Daegu Summer. In fact, it wasn’t long ago at all. When I arrived, three months ago, I had just left a South African Winter and it took me a while to adjust to the hot, humid weather. Despite what the guidebooks may say, Daegu is hot and humid all the time in Summer. The weather will regularly reach high temperatures and it rains all the time. I think I saw more rain in my first few weeks here than I have ever in my life. Perhaps a slight exaggeration, but there was definitely lots of sticky, warm rain.

As September finally arrived, things started to cool down slightly. Instead of days of rain, the weather was warm and clear. There were days that felt a lot like the hot, dry, peaceful Friday afternoons I remember from Grahamstown. It’s probably my favourite kind of weather. Fall also brought light breezes and occasionally stronger wind. For a month, the weather was beautiful. One of the things that will now remind me of Daegu is drinking Pink Lemonade or Iced Cappuccino outside on a warm Autumn night between classes – not sweltering heat, just warm and comfortable with a breath of freshness in the air.

It’s hard to keep exact track of the changing seasons because I’m not sure what it supposed to be happening but Autumn seems now to be winding down to winter and suddenly the warmth is gone. I got back to work after the Chusoek break (all 5 days of it) and wore roughly the same clothes as I was wearing last week. Last week I was starting to feel a little chilly after dark but nothing dramatic. On Monday, I was cold coming home.

And I know that it’s just going to get colder. I’m a little bit nervous about it. I’ve never really experienced proper cold. Several of the friends I’ve made here have said that I shouldn’t worry because it doesn’t really get that cold in Daegu. The fact that they are Canadian makes me a little sceptical. I have a feeling that ‘not that cold’ means something different in South Africa to what it means in Canada.

I even tried to buy a coat. There has been a rack of coats hanging outside a particular store for a week now and they’re quite attractive and reasonably priced. It was a very pretty little white coat, with double row of buttons and a belt. I would have bought it too, but apparently this shop only sells coats for women without breasts. I was a little offended, to be honest, by the way the shop assistant looked smugly at me as if there was something wrong with me and that was why the coat didn’t fit. Particularly because I don’t have particularly large breasts at all. I realise I shouldn’t take it personally – after all, I’m in a country where it’s apparently almost impossible to find a Bra above a C-cup – but it annoyed me. I feel the urgency to find nice, comfortable, school-appropriate winter shoes and a coat. I don’t know what to expect from this cold, so I need to make sure I’m appropriately dressed.

Yesterday, I woke up curled up in a ball, with my shoulders stiff from being hunched over. It’s not freezing, not by a long shot, but I can feel the Summer’s last kiss as it fades into a distant memory. I was reading something the other day that described Daegu as having short, hot, humid Summers and long, dry Winters. I love Winter for it’s grandeur and it’s emptiness but I will admit that this year’s winter, my first Winter in the Northern Hemisphere, the first time I’ll really be exposed to snow, makes me a little nervous. The temperatures now feel a little like the Winters I’m used to, except that it doesn’t really warm up during the day. But this is still the middle of Autumn.

The changing weather also makes me feel more foreign than ever. The last two days have been overcast and chilly. I’ve wandered around in a jersey, hunched over and feeling the cold. Around me, some Koreans are starting to dress a bit more warmly but there are still people in T-shirts, school kids in nothing but shirtsleeves and women in tiny, little skirts. The other foreigners look comfortable and cool and talk about how much more pleasant this is than the boiling hot summer. Not at all sure what to make of it all, I find myself shivering in the corner trying hard to figure out why humans ever left the warm, welcoming embrace of a sun-drenched continent.

I have friends who have adjusted to weather in all manner of places and I’m told the trick with the cold is to find particularly comfortable and pretty winter outer-wear. If I can just find a coat and some gloves and a hat that will fit, perhaps that will make the cold better.

Mount Apsan

Daegu, , , , ,

This weekend I went up a mountain. I’ve never really understood the fascination the human race has with being on top of mountains, but I’m as fascinated as anyone. This mountain is particularly popular with hikers and has a 790m cable-car and some exceptional views of the city.

Mount Apsan (which apparently means ‘Front Mountain’) is one of the higher peaks in Daegu. It’s surrounded by Apsan Park, a 17000 m² park which includes various sporting facilities, such as (although I didn’t see them) horse-riding and archery. There are also several temple complexes and a war memorial.
So, on Saturday I decided to take my new boots and find one of Daegu’s most popular tourist attractions. The first stumbling block was that the websites I usually use to find directions listed bus 910 as the bus to take. When I looked for a bus route, I discovered that Daegu doesn’t seem to have a bus 910. Luckily, after looking a bit further, I discovered that bus 410 goes to Apsan Park. In order to catch bus 410, I had to get another bus (401) to Suseong Lake and then wait for the 410 to arrive. When the bus arrived, it was empty. The driver looked a bit wary to let me on but I think my boots and day-pack gave away the fact that I did actually want to go to Apsan Park so he let me get on and we headed off. Buses in Daegu have a flat rate anywhere in the city that is charged any time you get onto a bus, so this trip to Apsan Park involved two bus fares, bit it was still far less than I’d have paid for a taxi (a lot less) so I wasn’t complaining. I was very glad that I use a travel-card so that I didn’t need to find change each time.
After travelling up and through Daegu, we arrived at the entrance to the Park. I love driving into a forested area. It feels like escaping the city. Apsan Park is entirely forested – except for the sports areas and temples and little pockets of grassy space. The bus stopped at a depot point near the edge of the park and I got off. I was in a parking lot with some cars and lots of buses – both city buses and tour buses. I walked past the cars and the little shop and headed up the hill. The park was paved and ran under the road I’d just come in on. On my left was a stream but there hadn’t been much rain so it was mostly rocks in a little water. After a while, I found a clearing with a map of the different paths but as all the writing was in Korean and there was no indication of where I was on the map it wasn’t hugely helpful. I looked around a bit and then headed back to the path and carried on uphill. All the time I was walking in the park, there were other people hiking and walking around me. It was a busy Saturday afternoon and the Koreans were out enjoying the Autumn weather.
A little further up the hill, I came upon a war memorial and small museum. The Nakdong River Battle Memorial is dedicated to those who died in the battle and more generally in the Korean war. This includes both Koreans and forces from other countries. Outside the memorial hall (where the museum is), there is a row of flags, including the ROK (South Korean) and UN flags, as well as the flags of every nation whose soldiers fought in the conflict. I was a little surprised to see the South African flag there (although it was lovely to see our beautiful flag flying in the breeze again). I discovered later that the South African Airforce 2 Squadron, known as “The Flying Cheetahs”, were fairly heavily involved in the action in Korea and won a total of 797 medals. I didn’t go into the museum, partly because I wanted to keep walking and partly because I was a little put off by the sign saying that the hall was intended to educate the people of the province in “anti-communism and patriotism”. The memorial area includes various planes and tanks, and a statue commemorating the involvement of (school) students in the defence of South Korea.
I am not an avid follower of war history and don’t know very much about the Korean war. I don’t know how I feel about commemorations like this.  I’ll probably go back at some point specifically to see the war memorial. For the moment, however, I was heading further up the mountain. From the war memorial, I had caught a glimpse of the mountain-top cable-station. I decided to try and find the base-station and take the cable-car up the mountain. By this stage, I’d been walking for a while and I was feeling just how unfit I am. Also, of course, the new boots had begun to give me blisters. I passed a temple on the right. I thought about stopping there but decided to have a look on my way back down. As it turned out, I didn’t get back there that day, but I’m sure I’ll be back at the park, so I can go and see it next time.
The path I was on slowly wound uphill and eventually arrived (fortuitously) at the cable-car base station. I love cable-cars. There is little more exciting than stepping into a little box with windows, attached to an overhead wire, and sliding up to the top of a hill. I suppose it reminds me a little of the take-off of a plane, which always makes my heart soar. Also, I have vague memories of another cable-car, a long time ago and half-a-world away. I bought a round-trip ticket for W 5500 (about R35) and went up to the waiting area. There were a few other families there, also waiting. One was a mixed Korean-American family with a little girl whose excited voice followed me during the  mountain-top adventure.
After a bit, a bell rang and we all crowded into the cable-car. It’s wasn’t particularly crowded, actually. With a smooth motion, we headed up and up, heading towards the mountain top. The views from the cable car were spectacular. As we rose higher and higher, we had a perfect view of the valley where the cable car base station and war memorial were. A little higher up, we looked out over the city, seeing further and further across the see of cream and white buildings to the blue mountains in the distance. At the top station, we got out of the cable-car and I headed up another path. The top of Mount Apsan, at least the area around the cable station, has several lookout points at various heights, including an observation deck (a covered building with windows all around) at the highest point. I climbed stairs cut into the rocks and walked up paths lined with barriers and occasionally there were a few information boards and one with a panoramic view of Daegu from the top, indicating what different areas you can see in the various directions.
The view was spectacular. Looking out from the top of a wooded mountain, I could see for miles and miles. I begin to think I might have underestimated the size of this city. From up there it looked huge. I could see, far away, the Daegu World Cup Stadium in one direction and what I think was the Bollo-dong Tomb Park in the other. Far below, I found myself looking down onto a temple complex that looked like a little toy building. The hills and peaks are all covered with forest, mostly pine, so not all that much autumn foliage, but still the occasional flash of orange or yellow or red. I kept walking further up, taking pictures, looking at the amazing views. At the very top, I spent some time just sitting in the observation building looking out of the huge, open windows, taking in the distance, breathing the fresh air and enjoying the feel of the cool, mountain-top wind on my face. It was good to get away from the city and the noise for a while and to be somewhere where there is so much space that it’s possible to see to the horizon.
On the way back to the parking area, I got lost. Not lost in the sense of wandering around the forest not having any idea how to get out, but in the sense that I found a wide, well-kept path that looked like a more interesting way to reach my destination and took it and it wasn’t until I noticed the temple I had walked past on the way up behind me that I realised I’d taken a wrong turn. I considered turning around and going back but I was half way down the path (with growing blisters), so I decided to go on instead. A few months back I’m sure I would have turned around and retraced my steps. Being here has increased my adventurousness. I figured that if the path kept heading downwards it would eventually reach a road, where I was sure to be able to find a bus stop. As it turns out, that is exactly what happened. I reached the end of the path, which opened onto a parking lot at the side of a busy road and waited for the bus.
It’s amazing what a difference a day out of the bustle and noise, in a place with plenty of space can make. A place where it’s possible to see the horizon, to see something other than cars and roads and apartment blocks. It was a good day, followed by lovely evening with friends at a little place downtown called Italy-Italy, where you create your own pasta – choose a pasta type, a sauce and ingredients, and a couple of Martinis at a great little cocktail bar.

This weekend I went up a mountain. I’ve never really understood the fascination the human race has with being on top of mountains, but I’m as fascinated as anyone. This mountain is particularly popular with hikers and has a 790m cable-car and some exceptional views of the city.

Mount Apsan (which apparently means ‘Front Mountain’) is one of the higher peaks in Daegu. It’s surrounded by Apsan Park, a 17000 m² park which includes various sporting facilities, such as (although I didn’t see them) horse-riding and archery. There are also several temple complexes and a war memorial.

So, on Saturday I decided to take my new boots and find one of Daegu’s most popular tourist attractions. The first stumbling block was that the websites I usually use to find directions listed bus 910 as the bus to take. When I looked for a bus route, I discovered that Daegu doesn’t seem to have a bus 910. Luckily, after looking a bit further, I discovered that bus 410 goes to Apsan Park. In order to catch bus 410, I had to get another bus (401) to Suseong Lake and then wait for the 410 to arrive. When the bus arrived, it was empty. The driver looked a bit wary to let me on but I think my boots and day-pack gave away the fact that I did actually want to go to Apsan Park so he let me get on and we headed off. Buses in Daegu have a flat rate anywhere in the city that is charged any time you get onto a bus, so this trip to Apsan Park involved two bus fares, bit it was still far less than I’d have paid for a taxi (a lot less) so I wasn’t complaining. I was very glad that I use a travel-card so that I didn’t need to find change each time.

After travelling up and through Daegu, we arrived at the entrance to the Park. I love driving into a forested area. It feels like escaping the city. Apsan Park is entirely forested – except for the sports areas and temples and little pockets of grassy space. The bus stopped at a depot point near the edge of the park and I got off. I was in a parking lot with some cars and lots of buses – both city buses and tour buses. I walked past the cars and the little shop and headed up the hill. The park was paved and ran under the road I’d just come in on. On my left was a stream but there hadn’t been much rain so it was mostly rocks in a little water. After a while, I found a clearing with a map of the different paths but as all the writing was in Korean and there was no indication of where I was on the map it wasn’t hugely helpful. I looked around a bit and then headed back to the path and carried on uphill. All the time I was walking in the park, there were other people hiking and walking around me. It was a busy Saturday afternoon and the Koreans were out enjoying the Autumn weather.

A little further up the hill, I came upon a war memorial and small museum. The Nakdong River Battle Memorial is dedicated to those who died in the battle and more generally in the Korean war. This includes both Koreans and forces from other countries. Outside the memorial hall (where the museum is), there is a row of flags, including the ROK (South Korean) and UN flags, as well as the flags of every nation whose soldiers fought in the conflict. I was a little surprised to see the South African flag there (although it was lovely to see our beautiful flag flying in the breeze again). I discovered later that the South African Air Force 2 Squadron, known as “The Flying Cheetahs”, were fairly heavily involved in the action in Korea and won a total of 797 medals. I didn’t go into the museum, partly because I wanted to keep walking and partly because I was a little put off by the sign saying that the hall was intended to educate the people of the province in “anti-communism and patriotism”. The memorial area includes various planes and tanks, and a statue commemorating the involvement of (school) students in the defence of South Korea.

I am not an avid follower of war history and don’t know very much about the Korean war. I don’t know how I feel about commemorations like this.  I’ll probably go back at some point specifically to see the war memorial. For the moment, however, I was heading further up the mountain. From the war memorial, I had caught a glimpse of the mountain-top cable-station. I decided to try and find the base-station and take the cable-car up the mountain. By this stage, I’d been walking for a while and I was feeling just how unfit I am. Also, of course, the new boots had begun to give me blisters. I passed a temple on the right. I thought about stopping there but decided to have a look on my way back down. As it turned out, I didn’t get back there that day, but I’m sure I’ll be back at the park, so I can go and see it next time.

The path I was on slowly wound uphill and eventually arrived (fortuitously) at the cable-car base station. I love cable-cars. There is little more exciting than stepping into a little box with windows, attached to an overhead wire, and sliding up to the top of a hill. I suppose it reminds me a little of the take-off of a plane, which always makes my heart soar. Also, I have vague memories of another cable-car, a long time ago and half-a-world away. I bought a round-trip ticket for W 5500 (about R35) and went up to the waiting area. There were a few other families there, also waiting. One was a mixed Korean-American family with a little girl whose excited voice followed me during the  mountain-top adventure.

After a bit, a bell rang and we all crowded into the cable-car. It’s wasn’t particularly crowded, actually. With a smooth motion, we headed up and up, heading towards the mountain top. The views from the cable car were spectacular. As we rose higher and higher, we had a perfect view of the valley where the cable car base station and war memorial were. A little higher up, we looked out over the city, seeing further and further across the see of cream and white buildings to the blue mountains in the distance. At the top station, we got out of the cable-car and I headed up another path. The top of Mount Apsan, at least the area around the cable station, has several lookout points at various heights, including an observation deck (a covered building with windows all around) at the highest point. I climbed stairs cut into the rocks and walked up paths lined with barriers and occasionally there were a few information boards and one with a panoramic view of Daegu from the top, indicating what different areas you can see in the various directions.

The view was spectacular. Looking out from the top of a wooded mountain, I could see for miles and miles. I begin to think I might have underestimated the size of this city. From up there it looked huge. I could see, far away, the Daegu World Cup Stadium in one direction and what I think was the Bollo-dong Tomb Park in the other. Far below, I found myself looking down onto a temple complex that looked like a little toy building. The hills and peaks are all covered with forest, mostly pine, so not all that much autumn foliage, but still the occasional flash of orange or yellow or red. I kept walking further up, taking pictures, looking at the amazing views. At the very top, I spent some time just sitting in the observation building looking out of the huge, open windows, taking in the distance, breathing the fresh air and enjoying the feel of the cool, mountain-top wind on my face. It was good to get away from the city and the noise for a while and to be somewhere where there is so much space that it’s possible to see to the horizon.

On the way back to the parking area, I got lost. Not lost in the sense of wandering around the forest not having any idea how to get out, but in the sense that I found a wide, well-kept path that looked like a more interesting way to reach my destination and took it and it wasn’t until I noticed the temple I had walked past on the way up behind me that I realised I’d taken a wrong turn. I considered turning around and going back but I was half way down the path (with growing blisters), so I decided to go on instead. A few months back I’m sure I would have turned around and retraced my steps. Being here has increased my adventurousness. I figured that if the path kept heading downwards it would eventually reach a road, where I was sure to be able to find a bus stop. As it turns out, that is exactly what happened. I reached the end of the path, which opened onto a parking lot at the side of a busy road and waited for the bus.

It’s amazing what a difference a day out of the bustle and noise, in a place with plenty of space can make. A place where it’s possible to see the horizon, to see something other than cars and roads and apartment blocks. It was a good day, followed by lovely evening with friends at a little place downtown called Italy-Italy, where you create your own pasta – choose a pasta type, a sauce and ingredients, and a great little cocktail bar.