20 Years

Two decades, 1040 weeks, 7300 days is a long time and yet...  Just over 12 months ago I thought I might not make it.  But here I am, thank God.  So we fulfilled our promise to take the pictures in Korean traditional dress that we didn’t when we married.  The wedding house, echoingly empty in midweek rest, is a little nonplussed at our unexpected request but recovers quickly and the photographer is summoned.  Make up complete, colourful costumes chosen, donned and adjusted, we take our places behind a low table laden with plastic offerings of chestnuts, pine nuts, tetchu and a serious looking chicken.  My knees object but must do as they’re told, we strike the requisite poses, and raise empty cups to toast each other.  The photos are taken so quickly that I have barely caught breath and my mouth is frozen in a half smile.  

20 years captured in short 3 flashes - it was so good to be there.

Jirisan - Jiri Mountain

We reach the pass, park and set off for Goribong Peak, which we can see rising above us, swathed in thick green, with three rocky outcrops jutting out in relief.  A gentle walk, mostly under cover through a green tunnel of Korean pines, magnolias, oaks and short bamboo, with unseen birds singing us along.  Every now and then, small piles of stones tell of previous walkers and we make our own on a boulder facing Jirisan to hold our wishes.

This is bear country but we clearly aren’t worth a look and the biggest threat we face is a very busy striped squirrel searching for pine nuts and totori (acorns).

We emerge on top of Goribong in the warm autumn sun to glorious views of the valley down to Namwon on one side and to the brother peaks of Jirisan on the other.  Under a glowing blue sky, the silence and  fresh air are exhilarating and we have it all to ourselves and a wheeling hawk.  It doesn’t get much better - what an antidote to Shanghai.

That evening we have delightful vegetarian food, a create-your-own bibimpap with an endless combination of local plants, crowned with the seductive taste of sesame oil.  The restaurant is a traditional one storey house, with wooden pillars and roof beams, whitewashed walls and paper doors.  Owned by an ancient, friendly halmoni, we are served by a young Filipina, a rare foreigner this deep in the country, whose sister teaches English in the town.  You leave your shoes outside, and sit on the heated floor at low tables. I shift and squirm to find an elusive comfortable position, jealous of the local people's cross-legged poise.

The rice comes cooking in a stone pot so hot the bottom layer is roasted literally to a crisp and tastes deliciously crunchy and nutty.  This is all washed down with a tasty, home made, slightly fizzy rice wine called tongdongju.  One of the best meals in a very long time, we head to our room satisfied with a magnificent day.

Goryeong Bokbo - Nine Dragon Falls

A few hundred vertiginous steps lead us down to the famous pools, one for each dragon that are said to have descended from a rainbow.  The colours have faded but the pools are still beautiful, lying amongst vast granite rock walls and boulders.  We dip our feet in the super cold water for a refreshing natural massage, and share in the laughter from a party of hiking ajumas enjoying lunch on a flat rock above us.  

Dragonflies are everywhere, gracefully flitting in and out of the shade, setting down on warm rock to soak up the sun’s energy and rest their wondrous wings which remind me of stained glass church windows.  At rest, approaching from behind out of sight of their large eyes, they are easily caught and held gently between two fingers.  With an apology for the inconvenience, we send them up into the air again carrying our wishes for a long good life for us and them.

Heading back up, we meet a party of good humoured elderly Koreans, including two men in traditional hanbok clothes and hats, all of whom give us a cheerful welcome and shame us with their health and vigour.

Jirisan National Park

We find a decent, spacious, clean room in Namwon which seems to have more hotels than Jinju, thanks no doubt to the Jirisan National Park, which in seasons throngs with eager walkers kitted out in full gear and equal numbers of tourists, usually in suits and ties and high heels, oblivious to the rough terrain, keen to take in the splendours of the mountain range that is said to be Korea’s most beautiful.

We stroll through Gwanghalluwon, a traditional formal garden made almost 600 years ago and dedicated to the heroic love story of Chunhyang.

Dinner is a superb steaming mushroom soup, full of woodland goodness, that helps me fight off a chill from the unexpectedly cool mountain evening.

Wake to a crisp sunny morning, giving the green pine-clad peaks sharp relief against the endless blue sky, fuelling our anticipation of a day exploring the mountains.  Driving through rural scenes of golden rice fields, persimmons still on the tree branches, and very traditional hamlets, we soon come to a lovely river bed carved through solid, massive granite, part of it one huge flattened boulder, giving on to a narrower channel with a gentle flow of clear, very cold water and a couple of pools deep enough to bathe in if one were brave enough.

Serendipity

Fate continues to intervene in our travels.  Leaving Tongyeong, packed to the gills with seafaring tourists, we make the sensible decision to head inland to Jinju, a small city of some historical interest some 30km north, and, we reasoned, unlikely to be plagued by holiday makers.  

We arrive in a flood torrent of traffic to find a town nearly bereft of hotels and the few we discover are all full thanks to a festival on the river.  The approaches to the water throng with people coming and going from the stalls along the river bank.  And as the traffic crawls along, we catch tantalising glimpses of fantastic illuminated floats on the river, too brief to make out the shapes, leaving us wishing we’d known and planned better.

So off we head another 30km north to Sancheong, a dusty country town with little to boast about that we could see by night, and some time after after midnight we find a grim room in another love motel, with a convenient karaoke club attached, but we are so tired that it does not matter and we quickly fall into a deep sleep.

We wake late but rested and flee our room which bears all the signs of 20 years of neglect and contractual encounters, to find relief in a cafe with a cappuccino, between the tractor dealers, hardware shops and a hair salon from several eras before.

A new day brought a sparkling blue sky, cool autumn air and views of green mountains we had missed in the dark of the night before.  The sight of the peaks and a rocky river running through Sancheong is a real lift and we change plan and head to Namwon and the Jirisan National Park.  Thank you Jinju!

Cars

Chairman, President, Dynasty, Prestige, Premium, Grandeur.  There’s nothing like a pompously named car to reaffirm one’s precious hard won pomposity and to indicate to the people on the street when they should defer to righteous self-importance.  Probably only available in black, occasionally in silver by special request, this growing strand of terribly serious, inflated care names seems unique to Korea.  A few classical exceptions, like Equus, Tosca, Genesis, add some exotic flavour to this large bubble of hot pride.  Not of course that I have much to crow about, coming from a country that gave rise to the Marina, Focus, Imp and Reliant.

Goseong

I am enjoying a huge bowl of tasty and healthy mushroom rice porridge in a small room, in the shadow of a young gingko tree with my wife, her brother and his young family. I may be the only foreigner in this unlovely little country town, though nobody bats an eyelid and I am treated with normal courtesies.  There was no room in any love motel for miles around last night - it’s a long holiday weekend and clearly lovers are busy, which is what brought us to this country outpost, famous for dinosaur traces and little else.