Discover South Korea

Several days on this whirlwind trip to Korea involved Wendy Wu guided tours. A Seoul City Tour the day after I arrived packed more than I could possibly have experienced unguided. That day, it was Grace. She loaded me with details of Korea’s distinctive culture.

A busload of us started with a visit to Jogyesa Temple. Zen Buddhist worshippers were doubled over in prayer on a dark wood floor before three huge gold Buddhas. I tiptoed around, trying not to intrude. Wide steps lead down into the surrounding park to a white-barked tree surrounded by a fence covered in decorative balloons, colourful flags and plastic flowers. People lit incense to carry wishes around a stone pagoda.

Gyeongbokgung Palace, where the royal family once lived, is a place that’s been destroyed and rebuilt several times. Here, we watched the theatrical changing of the guards ceremony. Actors in extravagant costumes conducted synchronised marches to the music of reedy trumpets, brass horns and conch shell blasts, accompanied by thumps of deep bass drumming. Feathers bounced, flags flapped, feet stamped. 

Many, many tourists shared our enthusiasm, straining to see, holding phones high in the air.

We followed Grace through a series of gates into the palace grounds as she talked about Feng Shui, the balance of landscape and buildings, the location of various halls – the party room, the king’s chambers, behind it and within a short dash, the queen’s rooms. We learned about the inevitable squabbling and jealousy that swirled around the court, the rituals and restrictions, the importance of maintaining the line.

It surprised me to see many people wearing Hanbok, traditional Korean clothing. Women swished about in long, wide skirts with high waists, wide-sleeved bodices in shiny, glamorous fabrics, some diaphanous with several layers. Men wore wide-legged pants, long coats cut on angels and hats that seemed to just perch. I learned later that Hanbok can be hired and that wearing it grants free access to the palace. 

At the far end of the palace, Grace led us to the National Folk Museum for a soak in art and culture, a reminder that nothing can be taken for granted geo-politically (Korea has been invaded hundreds of times) and some insight into the importance of family to Korean people.

There’s a traditional ritual performed for one-year-olds who are presented with various symbolic items and allowed to choose one. Innocent, curious fingers grab at their destinies, at careers in law or medicine, or as KPop or sports stars. Perhaps they’ll chose the knot of rope and be blessed with a long life.

Next, to Insa-dong, a colourful and tantalising retail district famous for antiques, crafts, boutique clothing, jewellery, paper, ceramics and traditional tea houses. 

We stopped at a Ginseng Centre, then headed to Namsan N Seoul Tower for views of the city from the surrounding park where we looked across the great sprawling city, surprised by how hilly it is.

The last stop of the tour was at Bukchon Hanok Village to wander around traditional Korean houses, restored for posterity. Grace showed us the kimchi urns half buried to keep them cool. Inside low-ceiling wooden houses, we could see elegant furniture and detailed art. She shook her head describing how the women were relegated to inner rooms in these compounds, to be near the kitchen. “Not on!’’ she says, crossing her forearms in an X. “No more.’’

In a taxi the next morning I made my way to Gimpo Airport through Seoul’s wide streets past small parks with shade and public art. Waiting for my flight to Jeju, I was surprised to see dogs scurrying behind their travelling owners. A child, maybe three years old, stared at me. I seemed weird, I couldn’t speak her language, and I looked different – but she returned my smile, and I said “Hello’’ in English. Her grandmother whispered to her and the girl clambered off her plastic chair, faced me and bowed.

On Jeju Island I checked into a hotel with views to the open sea. Jeju has two centres – old downtown and new downtown; I stayed in the old bit.

At a nearby night market, I bought sticky dumplings and freshly-squeezed tangerine juice.

In the morning, I boarded a tour bus to explore the south west corner of Jeju. The island is volcanic and its cocoa-coloured soil, its temperatures, wind and rainfall are perfect for growing citrus and tea. At the O’sulloc Tea Museum, sipping a sample of green tea, I learned that fog provides natural shade for tea leaves to develop vivid colours. 

We passed greenhouses, high-hedge windbreaks and fields bordered by rock walls, some planted along their edges with lolly pink and cerise petunias.

As we reached Sanbanggulsa, the famous fog rolled in. The temple was half shrouded, the weather exaggerating the poetic quality of its old bone

Small, colourful Buddha statues in lotus positions, beatific smiles on perfect faces, lined the way to a shrine where Buddha waited, looking kindly over prayer wheels, hydrangeas, and a massive bell in an elaborately and colourfully painted wooden cradle. 

That evening I returned to the same night market for a noisy dose of activity, wandering past tanks of live eels and fish, past dried seafood, cooked chickens, mountains of citrus, boxes of sweets, smoky, oily, delicious-smelling food stalls.

Jeju’s east coast was on the next day’s itinerary, travelling up the middle of the island to walk through a cedar forest, and to visit a small farm where millet rice wine is made using traditional processes.

Other traditions preserved on Jeju include the Haenyeo women who freedive for seafood, following a matrilineal practice going back several centuries. They famously hold their breath for a long time and can stay in the water for several hours

A zigzag path down the beach was busy with tourists. Four Haenyeo women were kitted up in wetsuits, their masks perched on heads, flippers in hand. They performed a short ritual to bring luck and ensure safety, then slipped into the tide, holding baskets attached to buoys and made their way out into the bay. Soon, one of them held up her catch: an octopus.

Back on shore, they worked fast, flashing knives, flipping abalone and conch out of their shells, chopping sea cucumber and sea pineapple and passing loaded plates to people waiting for seafood that could not be any fresher.

Another local delicacy appealed more to me: tangerine ice cream. Due to a slight misunderstanding, I bought a very large one, so big that it dripped down my arm, faster than I could lick. I couldn’t keep up! The melt was winning – when a smiling young woman striding by with a group of friends handed me a tissue.

Jeju Stone Park opened in 2007 to showcase the stone culture of Jeju. Stone figures, or guardians, can be seen all over the island but are particularly well maintained here along with stone posts, basins, charms, towers and muddles – some ancient, some modern – creating an extraordinary garden of rocks. I added a stone to a teetering muddle to make a wish. It balanced, so my wish will come true.

On the roof of the park’s geological museum, the Sky Pool is a massive shallow pond built at eye-level. Its shimmering skin of water held the reflection of pale grey sky and thin, lazy clouds creating a calming, pleasing balance. 

The following day, back in Seoul and back to familiar Namdaemun, I discovered a busy market just around the corner from the hotel selling T-shirts, socks, linen, everything – plus street food. Further along Namdaemun Road were massive department stores with all the luxury brands – Chanel, Burberry, Louis Vuitton et al, and a food hall in the basement with a luxe market, fresh produce, cafés, bakeries, chocolatiers.

It was all too overwhelming and besides, with just one night left, a Korean meal was called for. I was the only non-local in the place but was welcomed and was soon enjoying a spicy tofu stew that cost around NZ $12.

I talked to Alison about the food, the market and my travels to Jeju, as we drove to Aegibong Peace Ecopark for my peek at the other world, the hazy valleys of North Korea. She spoke with pride about the Haenyeo divers and with enthusiasm about her country’s progress. I sensed from our conversation that life in Seoul was good to her. She had opportunities, she had confidence.

As we parted ways at the airport, we exchanged a quick hug and I realised her friendliness, generosity and positivity epitomised, for me, the spirit of South Korea.