I had the privilege of hosting my wonderful sister Dana last week. In preparation I sketched out a rough plan of things we could do, asked her what she really wanted to do and see in Korea and then went to work.
One thing she was all for was hiking. Finding a proper place to engage in a bit of trekking isn't a problem here, since about 70 percent of the peninsula is covered with mountains and hills. I chose a large national park near Seoul called Bukhansan. It's a place I'd been meaning to go for some time, but for various reasons hadn't made it.
So on Dana's first full day in the ROK we were up and out with breakfast in our bellies well before 9. Unfortunately getting to Bukhansan from my humble home requires a fairly significant journey. In our case this meant a two-hour subway jaunt.
We packed our bags with over-sized waters, some almonds, apples and Dana's homemade banana muffins and set off for a nice, simple hike in the Korean wilderness. (A note for those unfamiliar with Korean customs: hiking is possibly the most popular Korean pastime for middle-aged Koreans, so there rarely is the type of true wilderness moment some look for in hiking).
Pleased that we made it on the subway by our set time, we settled in for the ride. We reached our transfer point in Seoul and headed to the map to make sure we would be continuing on in the proper direction. Enter a helpful Korean man who asks where we are headed. When I point out the station and tell him we are shooting for Bukhansan he simply beckons us to follow him. Apparently he's headed there too.
I'm all one for adventure, and it seems Dana is too, but we were both a little leery of following a complete stranger. But we always retained the trump card of ditching him if the situation turned strange, I guess.
Lucky for us we hit the jackpot. Not only was he kind enough to guide us to the park, but he introduced us to his hiking group and had us tag along. Our rough plan of a two-hour hike suddenly transformed into a planned five-hour adventure, but we thought we'd give it a shot.
I'm a pretty swift hiker myself, but for many Koreans hiking is the Indy 500 with the winner's bottle of milk at the finish line for the first to reach the summit. I was somewhat prepared for this, to an extent, but unfortunately I don't think Dana knew what she was getting into. The breaks were infrequent, and when they came they didn't last. We didn't hold up the end of the line, but we certainly weren't leading the pack.
Finally after clearing one peak and heading partially down we found a spot for lunch. Another note about Korean hikers: they come prepared. Our shorts and t-shirts and meager belongings had nothing on the full head-to-toe gear, portable chairs, hiking poles and most importantly food our hosts had on them. Our little snack was supplemented by offers of kimchi, kimbap (a famous Korean snack made of rice and vegetable rolled in seaweed), some kind of pasta with a milky substance (not the most appetizing, but we were kind of forced to eat it!) and a number of other treats. (Unfortunately neither Dana nor I were mindful enough to snap any pictures of our hosts or their spread).
Lunch was a welcome respite from climbing and it was good to fill the tanks since we didn't know how long we had yet to go. So with slightly refreshed legs we set off again. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about the finish line before we were halfway up peak number two, but it probably would have taken us longer to find our way back on our own than to just tag along the rest of the journey. Onward and upward it was.
None of our hosts spoke much of any English, which was at the same time frustrating and entertaining. We were treated to such gems as "me daddy" (our guide was the same age as our parents), "big problem" (when Dana fell a bit and hit her knee), "small problem" (when either of us slipped or any little issue cropped up, and finally, saving the best for last, "she die" (Our guide was trying to explain our decision to head down. Dana was in no condition to climb another peak, and frankly I wasn't in the mood either, so we headed down with part of the group). I'm probably forgetting other good ones, but the, at times, blunt language was certainly a source of chuckles for us.
After more than five hours from our starting time we reached the bottom and said goodbye to our guide who clearly was a little disappointed that we weren't continuing on to dinner with him. But Dana's visit was short and we had more to do.
Thanks Mr. Lee! We exchanged phone numbers, so there may still be another crazy adventure in the days to come.
One thing she was all for was hiking. Finding a proper place to engage in a bit of trekking isn't a problem here, since about 70 percent of the peninsula is covered with mountains and hills. I chose a large national park near Seoul called Bukhansan. It's a place I'd been meaning to go for some time, but for various reasons hadn't made it.
So on Dana's first full day in the ROK we were up and out with breakfast in our bellies well before 9. Unfortunately getting to Bukhansan from my humble home requires a fairly significant journey. In our case this meant a two-hour subway jaunt.
We packed our bags with over-sized waters, some almonds, apples and Dana's homemade banana muffins and set off for a nice, simple hike in the Korean wilderness. (A note for those unfamiliar with Korean customs: hiking is possibly the most popular Korean pastime for middle-aged Koreans, so there rarely is the type of true wilderness moment some look for in hiking).
Pleased that we made it on the subway by our set time, we settled in for the ride. We reached our transfer point in Seoul and headed to the map to make sure we would be continuing on in the proper direction. Enter a helpful Korean man who asks where we are headed. When I point out the station and tell him we are shooting for Bukhansan he simply beckons us to follow him. Apparently he's headed there too.
I'm all one for adventure, and it seems Dana is too, but we were both a little leery of following a complete stranger. But we always retained the trump card of ditching him if the situation turned strange, I guess.
Lucky for us we hit the jackpot. Not only was he kind enough to guide us to the park, but he introduced us to his hiking group and had us tag along. Our rough plan of a two-hour hike suddenly transformed into a planned five-hour adventure, but we thought we'd give it a shot.
I'm a pretty swift hiker myself, but for many Koreans hiking is the Indy 500 with the winner's bottle of milk at the finish line for the first to reach the summit. I was somewhat prepared for this, to an extent, but unfortunately I don't think Dana knew what she was getting into. The breaks were infrequent, and when they came they didn't last. We didn't hold up the end of the line, but we certainly weren't leading the pack.
 |
| At the top! |
Finally after clearing one peak and heading partially down we found a spot for lunch. Another note about Korean hikers: they come prepared. Our shorts and t-shirts and meager belongings had nothing on the full head-to-toe gear, portable chairs, hiking poles and most importantly food our hosts had on them. Our little snack was supplemented by offers of kimchi, kimbap (a famous Korean snack made of rice and vegetable rolled in seaweed), some kind of pasta with a milky substance (not the most appetizing, but we were kind of forced to eat it!) and a number of other treats. (Unfortunately neither Dana nor I were mindful enough to snap any pictures of our hosts or their spread).
Lunch was a welcome respite from climbing and it was good to fill the tanks since we didn't know how long we had yet to go. So with slightly refreshed legs we set off again. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about the finish line before we were halfway up peak number two, but it probably would have taken us longer to find our way back on our own than to just tag along the rest of the journey. Onward and upward it was.
None of our hosts spoke much of any English, which was at the same time frustrating and entertaining. We were treated to such gems as "me daddy" (our guide was the same age as our parents), "big problem" (when Dana fell a bit and hit her knee), "small problem" (when either of us slipped or any little issue cropped up, and finally, saving the best for last, "she die" (Our guide was trying to explain our decision to head down. Dana was in no condition to climb another peak, and frankly I wasn't in the mood either, so we headed down with part of the group). I'm probably forgetting other good ones, but the, at times, blunt language was certainly a source of chuckles for us.
After more than five hours from our starting time we reached the bottom and said goodbye to our guide who clearly was a little disappointed that we weren't continuing on to dinner with him. But Dana's visit was short and we had more to do.
Thanks Mr. Lee! We exchanged phone numbers, so there may still be another crazy adventure in the days to come.
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