Category Archives: Daegu

Spring picnic

Adventures, Daegu, ,

Spring has finally arrived in Korea. Well, the spring blossoms have arrived. The weather is still annoying and a little crazy. Last week Wednesday, for example, it snowed. On Saturday, however, the sun came out and the weather promised to be relatively warm. Perfect weather for a picnic. It feels like ages since I had a relaxed weekend that didn’t involve going somewhere or at least planning to go somewhere, so the main aim of the day was to find a pleasant spot with some sunshine and some prettiness and sprawl out with a book on a blanket.

I decided to go to Duryu Park, my favourite park here in Daegu. Getting there is even easier from my new area (Jisan) – I just walk down past the hut towards Castle Gold Park and pick up a number #3-1 bus from there. It takes about 20 minutes by bus to get to the park.

The first thing I saw when I stepped off the bus was a road, with hills of green stretching away on each side, lined, all the way to where it wound around a corner in the distance, with trees in full spring bloom. After several abortive attempts to travel to other parts of the country to find some spring flowers, it seems the place to look was right here all along. There are certainly more than cherry blossoms. I like all the spring flowers. I do see the particular appeal of the cherry blossoms, however.

This is the first time I’ve seen cherry blossoms in the forests, when I took a walk through the wooded hills of Duryu park. They’re particularly beautiful against the fresh spring green of new leaves and the bare branches of those trees still waiting for the season’s change to reach them. I still think they may be most spectacular in avenues, however. There is an avenue of cherry trees along one side of Suseong Lake. It took a while for the trees to blossom. In fact, trees scattered around the other three sides of the lake had blossomed up to a week earlier and I thought these trees must be some other sort. Until I went walking at the lake last Tuesday and found myself walking beneath a canopy of delicate pink blossoms, meeting above my head and painting the whole world the shade of a romantic movie. The thing about cherry blossoms, apart from the exquisitely delicate pale-pink colour, is the density of flowers. A lot of blossom trees have just one or two blossoms on a branch. This can be beautiful but it means that the blossoms are individual delicate flowers. For pure spectacular-ness, they simply cannot compete, however, with the way that cherry blossoms cluster along branches and absolutely cover the tree with their glorious beauty. This is, of course, also highlighted by the dark brown trunk and branches occasionally glimpsed through the flower-clusters. I’ve tried, several times, to capture the gloriousness of the cherry blossom spring in photographs but it seems to resist being caught on film, so I suppose this will just have to be a memory I carry in my mind.

The other thing about cherry blossoms I discover – again while walking at the lake – is cherry blossom snow. I refer, of course, to the falling cherry blossom petals. I found myself earlier this week, walking along that same avenue of cherry blossoms, this time with the wind whirling cherry blossom petals around me like snowflakes. Suddenly I was walking through spring. I couldn’t resist spinning around in joy.

On Saturday, I saw some cherry blossom trees and enjoyed their glory but I equally enjoyed the other flowers and the spring-green of new leaves, as well as other bits and pieces of a spring day – like tiny orange fish darting around a pond, a middle-ages lady fast asleep on a wooden platform and a soccer team kicking around a ball. I was due to meet a friend for a bit of a picnic, so, after walking a little in the hills and meandering around taking tons of photographs (having discovered a new setting on my camera that simply had to be tried out), I headed for the stadium. I wasn’t sure where to find a quiet spot to spread out my blanket because there didn’t seem to be many lawns so I thought I’d sit in the stands for a bit and get my breath back before trying again.
As I walked up the steps to the top of the stands, I stepped into glorious sunshine. I don’t think I had really thought about how long it had been since I had been outdoors without a long-sleeved top of some sort. It isn’t the kind of thing one thinks about much. On Saturday afternoon, for the first time in months and months, I took off the jackets and jerseys and layers and sat in the spring sunshine in just a T-shirt. It was glorious.

I found a quiet, flat patch of grass about half-way up the stands and spread out my orange blanket that came with me all the way from South Africa and proved so multi-functional over the years. My friend was later than she expected to be, but I hardly noticed as I lay on my blanket and read a book with the sunshine on my back. In a world where it rains so much of the time and is overcast even when it isn’t raining, and where my working hours mean that I only get home around 11pm and so sleep through a lot of the daylight, an hour or two of being outside and warm and curled up like a kitten in the sun is just gorgeous.

The sun was starting to drop towards the horizon and workmen setting up a stage in the middle of the stadium/arena as we packed up to head home, slanting rays of light filtering through the cherry blossom trees to follow us to the bus stop. Since then, there has been one more day of warmth in between the chilly (and today downright cold) weather. I’m really hoping it changes properly soon and that there will be plenty more picnic-weather-Saturdays in my last few months in Korea.

An energetic Saturday

Daegu,

A plan to go picnicking under the cherry trees on Saturday had to be put off due to a dental emergency but the day still dawned sunny and relatively warm (or at least not freezing) and I wanted to take full advantage.

After a gentle start to the day, I headed off to Mangu Park. Mangu is one of the parks I haven’t seen yet. I’ve tried to find it before and been unsuccessful, as it turns out because I got off the bus too soon. This time, I had checked the bus route map properly and had a better idea of how long I’d need to wait. I took the 814 bus. It was around midday on a Saturday, so there were lots of people on the bus. After a couple of stops, I found a seat and watched the world from the window.

After a while, we reached the park. There are different types of parks in Daegu. Some of them, like National Debt Repayment Movement Park, are small parks set up for people to sit in pleasant surroundings (and listen to piped elevator music). Some are bigger parks with more serious walks and sporting activities like Duryu Park. Mangu Park is not a huge park. In fact, it’s a bit of an odd shape, stretching across a main road. Some of the space that it does have is taken up with trees and lawns sloping down hills and benches where people were peacefully sitting and chatting or reading. The rest is taken up by monuments of various sorts.

The most fascinating is the Daegu South Gate. This is, quite literally, the old South Gate of the city of Daegu or Yeongnamjeilgwan. Daegu was first fortified in 1590 (Joseon Dynasty). As usual in Korea’s history, the Japanese invaded within a few years (1592) and destroyed it all. The walls and gates were eventually rebuilt with stone in 1736 and stayed in place until 1906. In 1980, this gate was rebuilt and moved to Mangu Park, where it looks out across the Geumho River. The information board suggests that this structure is based on the original gate but is larger. I’m not sure how exaggerated the current structure is but it is certainly imposing. The two story wooden structure with typical Joseon roof, colours and designs, sits atop a stone (brick?) fortification. There is a tunnel under the middle of the ‘gate’. I walked into this tunnel and did a double-take when I looked up. On the ceiling, there was a fascinating, and huge, mural of two long, thin dragons twisting between clouds and other designs. Western dragons are a lot more solid than Eastern ones. These ones looked like snakes with dragons heads and spindly arms and legs. At the end of the little tunnel – it wasn’t even really a tunnel, just an opening under the gate – were two huge wooden doors and then a view down a hill to a river valley. I love the huge wooden doors. I think they may be my favourite part of traditional Korean architecture.

Beyond the gate, I wandered along paved paths. Along the edge of a path was a fence covered in golden-yellow forsythia flowers. An Asian spring seems like it should be all about cherry blossoms and they are around but so far the forsythias have been far more prominent, painting the spring with swathes of yellow flowers.

Across the bridge above the multiple lanes of fast, flowing traffic, there were more flowers. A few cherry trees proudly showed their spring glory. There was another plant, the name of which I haven’t quite figured out but whose beautiful, creamy-white flowers are some of my spring favourites. In the flower-beds, the city has recently planted flowering pansies in all sorts of beautiful colours – from yellow and deep red to bright purple and velvety dark blue. I considered walking down along the river, but decided to stay on the top of the hill and take a look at the monuments.

The first was a horse and rider statue dedicated (I think) to General Kwak Jaewoo who was apparently the first militia leader to successfully resist the Japanese during the 1592 invasion (although, I’m not sure how successfully given that they seem to have invaded anyway, but what do I know?). The horse and rider reminded me a little of the statues at Rhodes Memorial in Cape Town. There was also a monument-thingy on the back of a particularly scary-looking turtle. Often these turtles that hold up monuments are fascinating and quite pretty. This one wasn’t.

The main monument of the park on this side of the road, and the one that fascinated me the most, is an alter (read: a high tower rising from a hexogon-shaped structure with picture panels) holding memorial tablets for volunteer soldiers who died fighting the Japanese between 1592 and 1598. The monument is fairly modern and fancy. Part of me wonders if this is something that organically exists or if it is part of the ongoing attempt to build the pride of Korean children in their nation  (which, for the record, is spectacularly successful to the point of being a little scary). It was also bare and stark and the panels were beautiful. Whether it is a memorial that is visited by families and that matters to people or is simply a political project of nation-building, a monument remembering those who passed away in defence of their country hundreds of years ago is a little awe-inspiring.

I could have wandered the park for longer, but I had seen most of it and gotten some nice pics – and been reminded how much of a difference natural sunlight makes to pictures – so I found the bus-stop and headed home.

I didn’t stay home for long. A friend and I had made a tentative plan to go for a mini-hike just across the main road from the area where we live. I’d never tried walking on that side and for one reason or another, nor had she. From the road, it looked like it would be a short, simple walk but with just enough steep hills to make it a bit of a climb. It turned out that we had significantly underestimated how many paths there were and how far they twisted into the hills. It will probably be even lovelier when the trees are in full, summer leaf, but I liked it as it was. Because there were fewer leaves, it was possible to look out across the valleys. It felt free and out of the city, even though the city still sprawled below us. We walked along paths and around corners and took turns and twists and tried out some of the exercise equipment randomly scattered around the forest. Eventually, we found ourselves over the hill near the back of the Children’s centre, where we stopped and spent a little time going up and down the mini-obstacle course before climbing back up the hills, to the bizarre accompaniment of a helicopter flying over and playing the sound of a whistled tune. I realise this sounds odd. It was odd.

We walked for almost an hour and a half and did some climbing and got some exercise. I really enjoyed it. I’ve never been the hiking type. In fact, I’ve never really been an outdoorsy person, but it appears the lack of outdoors in Korea is rapidly driving me in that direction. That’s okay. So far it has been fun.

For now, I’m heading off to work, somewhat bitter that I’m working on Easter Monday when everyone in South Africa is mid-long weekend, but I’m simultaneously a little bit excited about the prospect of a Cherry Blossom festival next weekend, so there are definitely silver linings.

Today is a beautiful day

Daegu,

Today is a beautiful day. This doesn’t mean that everything is perfect. People sometimes find it strange that I can say that it’s a beautiful day or describe an amazing experience but not necessarily be generally happy with life. There is an odd perception that being happy means always being happy and vice versa. I’ve never bought it, but it’s always bothered me a little. I recently watched a TED talks video that does a pretty good job of suggesting why it is a problem (and why our concept of happiness is probably off). Daniel Kahneman distinguishes between the ‘experiencing self’ and the ‘remembering self’. This blog post is series of snapshots of what makes me happy not because of the story I can tell but because of the moments that appeal to the ‘experiencing self’.

The sun is shining today for a change and there is now wind, so there is actually a little bit of warmth. I walked at the lake earlier. The water was aqua-marine coloured when I arrived. Blue-green water rippling ever so gently against the grey walls of the lake and the grassy patches where the ducks and geese pottered.

On one side of the lake, there are various food vendors. They don’t have buildings. Instead, they arrive each day and set up their little portable cookers and their colourful umbrellas and their little plastic tables and chairs. I tend not to walk before around 11am, so by the time I get there, there are usually two or three old men sitting at at least one of the food stalls, drinking Soju or Makgeolli and snacking on snack-food sold by little old ladies. Today, when I walked past one of the food stalls, there was the most gorgeous smell of cooking. I have no idea what was cooking but it had me salivating.

I stopped because my foot was hurting and found myself sitting on a bench looking out at the skyscrapers reflected in the still water across the lake. The lack of wind meant the water looked totally still from here. The sky was blue behind the huge skyscrapers of the complex near my flat and still water reflected the buildings and the sky perfectly.

I stopped along the near side of the lake. From where I was standing, I could see the intersection of two busy roads. It was approaching mid-day and cars and trucks and buses rushed along the roads. Senior citizens in over-priced hiking outfits walked up the steps to begin their treks around the lake.  In spite of the business, it seemed peaceful. Perhaps it was all in my head, but there was a particular Friday-ish feeling to it all.

On my way home, I went down to one of the nearby take-away places that sells Western-style food. On the way there, I passed a restaurant I’ve passed many times. I clearly hadn’t paid much attention before, however. It wasn’t until today that I noticed that it does not in fact advertise itself as a ‘Japanese Restaurant’ but rather a ‘Japanesque Restaurant’.

The sun sparkled off the blue blocks in the pavement. Most of the pavement is grey and brick-like, although characteristically patterned – as everything is in Korea – but the patterns include blocks that sparkle in the sunlight.

Fried Calamari for lunch. I have somehow managed not to eat very much seafood in my time in Korea – although I’m still not sure how I’ve managed that in a country that is competing with Japan in the race to make sea-life extinct. I definitely haven’t eaten fried calamari rings. The taste and the smell made me think of the waterfront. I closed my eyes and I could picture the early spring sunlight sparkling on the harbour water and sitting on a bench at Quay Fou, eating Calamari and drinking white wine and the laughter of the friends who shared those moments with me.

Today is a beautiful day.