Geumjeongsanseong Fortress

This is a Busan Ex-Pat City Guide post. Check out the rest of my list here.

I’ve reached my elusive last month in Busan. Inevitably, it feels like everything I do these days is for the last time. This was the case yesterday, which I shall title “The Last Hike”, if only because it’s way too humid in Busan to go for another one before I depart.

While I had technically visited Geumjeongsanseong Fortress back in April, en route to Seokbulsa Temple, I’m a bit of a crazy person and decided that my first short, unintentional visit to the fortress wasn’t sufficient and I would need to re-visit in order to truly cross it off my Bucket List. Thankfully, I have friends (Steph and Brandi) who enable my neurotic behaviour and agreed to hike back up to the fortress with me.

The three of us had anticipated a rainy, overcast day, but were pleasantly surprised with the sunlight flittering through the dense forest upon arriving at the East Gate of the fortress. We headed in the direction of the Nammun Pond, and were soon greeted by the unmistakable sound of animated ajusshis. On our left was a tiny hamlet filled with middle-aged Korean men (and likely women – we were too far away to really tell) socializing at plastic tables and playing within around a green, netted enclosure. Steph, as the perfect human being she is, remarked, “it’s like Ajusshi Summer Camp!”

We reached Nammun Pond after a ten minute hike, where we observed blue dragonflies, frogs, snakes, and koi from our perch on the wooden bridge that wrapped around the swampy waters. A couple of friendly ajusshis retired their fishing poles to snap a photo of the three of us before we continued our hike to the Second Watch Tower. We ended up sitting on the fortress wall for about half an hour playing “Would You Rather?” and talking at length about some questionable content. While we sat on the wall, I did my best to take in the mountain scenery. I sat with my legs dangling off the fortress wall, and practiced some pre-sunset gratitude. It was a perfect day – breezy, with wispy clouds speckled across the sky, but still allowing the sun to peak through. This view justified the long trip back to the fortress and was a good reminder of Korea’s everyday natural beauty.

My favourite part of the hike, given that I had seen much of the scenery before, was the (derpy) conversations and jokes I had with Steph and Brandi. At one point, Steph regaled us with an anecdote involving a random black feather she had found while cleaning out her purse. She was legitimately confused about how it had ended up in there and joked that it was some sort of talisman that she should hold onto. Shortly afterwards, we crossed the pedestrian overpass from Oncheonjang Station to reach the bus stop. We passed by a seated ajumma selling unspecified herbs on a cloth who first made eye contact with Steph, smiled creepily, and muttered some Korean under her breath. Steph joked that the ajumma knew about the feather and was cursing her with some old school, Dongnae incantation. All to say, every crow (of which there were many) that flew overhead the forest on our hike seemed to be an ominous harbinger of things to come. Also, not once, but twice, Steph was (rightfully) yelped at the sight of a giant slug on the path to the fortress. To his credit, the poor cheetah printed little guy was just trying to get to his destination, but the jarred look on Steph’s face was just too much not to laugh.

The girls and I opted to take the cable car down the mountain after quickly visiting the South Gate, which offered much better views than my first foggy trip to Geumjeongsanseong Mountain. While the fortress wasn’t anything new or particularly exciting, it felt so right to sit on the its wall and stare out into the vast and seemingly never-ending Busan terrain one last time.

Directions
To get to Geumjeongsanseong Fortress, take the Orange Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Oncheonjang Station (stop 127). From here, go out exit 3, and use the overhead crossing to get to the other side of the street. Take bus #203, which will take you to the South gate, East gate, or the forest village.

Dadaepo Beach & Sunset Fountain of Dreams

This is a Busan Ex-Pat City Guide post. Check out the rest of my list here.

What kind of person do you become when you’re left alone?

Personally, I become the “neurotic planner”. Such was the case during the June long weekend. I sat, latently anxious for no reason, waiting for Steph and Katie to return from their dinner. During this time, I clipped my toenails way too short, bookmarked all of the “best of Jeju” blog posts, and ate too many yogourt cups. I also decided, on a whim, that I would travel to Busan’s most remote beach – Dadaepo – the following day. I had gotten it into my head that if I didn’t travel to Dadaepo Beach the next day, that I wouldn’t have enough weekends to complete the remaining items on my Korean Bucket List. Steph and Katie eventually came to retrieve me from the #darkness (read: my apartment), shortly before my neuroses led me down the rabbit hole of planning my trip to Thailand – a whole 8 weeks away at that point.

While the majority of our group were either exhausted from our weekend of travelling to Bijindo, or had alternate plans, Steph graciously offered to join me on the hour and a half long excursion to Busan’s southwest coast. This trip was no joke: 40 minutes on the Busan Subway’s Green Line, another 40 minutes on the Red Line, and finally a 30 minute bus ride that dropped us off approximately 10 minutes from Dadaepo Beach and the Dadaepo Sunset Fountain of Dreams. There were no other passengers on the subway by the time we reached the last stop on the Red Line (Sinpyeong), and while the bus we boarded was nearly full, the surrounding neighbourhood told a far more subdued story than Haeundae and Jangsan.

I fell in love* with Dadaepo before I even set foot on its sandy beach. This is mostly because on our way to down to the water, Steph and I discovered a ramshackle arcade housing a batting cage, a small, carnival-style punching bag, and most importantly, a rickety, old trampoline that lay, unused, feet from Dadaepo’s traffic-laden thoroughfare. As I looked around in blissful confusion, wondering whom to inquire to or to pay for the use of the dilapidated old thing, Steph was already removing her shoes. “Don’t ask permission, ask forgiveness!” she chortled. I shrugged and joined her, bounding up and down on the shaky structure for what felt like hours. Below, foreigners and locals alike passed by, observing our mirth with a mixture of puzzlement and delight. Oddly, no one ever stopped to join us or inquire about using the trampoline. Even on our way back home, the arcade was a ghost town despite the busy crowds from the Sunset Fountain of Dreams. I wanted to shout into the great abyss, “hello, people! It’s a trampoline? Have you never had fun before?” Alas, it just meant more bouncing for me.

Despite Dadaepo’s isolation and distance from Busan’s bustling downtown sector, the beach itself was spectacular, stretching along the coast for as far as the eye could see. Steph jokingly quipped about the beach’s set-up: “On your left, cottage country. On your right, eternity!” The left side of the beach had a tiny inlet of waist-deep water, perfect for small children to wade out into and build sand castles along. The quiet Nakdong River cuts across a quiet park separating the parking lot and the beach, and trickles down into the sea. Steph and I removed our flip-flops to cross a series of stepping stones to reach the eastern side of the beach which was filled with dozens of tiny offices and sheds filled with water sports equipment. Here, fit, young males carried their paddle boards high overhead down to the beach while wiser men stood precariously on jagged rocks, casting out lines in the hopes of an afternoon fish or two.

Steph and I followed the wooden boardwalk around Dadaepo’s winding coast. We gingerly tiptoed across the rock sand beach. We freaked out about the wildlife (particularly the insects) indigenous to Dadaepo, as they scurried out from under the rocks onto the main trail. We admired the jutting rock formations emerging from the sea. We spent a lot of time people-watching: scenes of older brothers challenging their younger brothers to rock-skipping contests, foursomes enjoying a sunset picnic of gimbap and soju by the water, and ajummas stretching their legs after traversing the coastal walk. We talked and talked and talked about the future, almost as if we needed to say it all before the sun disappeared from the sky. The mood was super relaxing, and we both acknowledged how happy we were to have made it to Dadaepo.

We started back to the beach to catch the sun before it disappeared into the foggy horizon. However, the sand was so ridiculously soft that we all but ignored the setting sun in favour of a little handstand practice. After a little derping around, peppered with some more chats about our hopes, dreams, and aspirations for the future, we headed towards the Nakdong River, our sights set upon the Sunset Fountain of Dreams.

I would not have surmised how what a popular destination that the Sunset Fountain of Dreams was earlier in the afternoon, based on what a ghost town Dadaepo seemed to be, but soon enough, hordes of locals and tourists alike streamed into the rather unsuspecting fountain square. There were more than a dozen workers setting up rows of chairs for the show, and soon, there wasn’t an empty seat in the house. Based on blogs that I had read about the neighbourhood, Dadaepo used to be even more remote than it currently is. However, with the establishment of the fountain, the neighbourhood was quickly launched into gentrification to accommodate its newfound “tourist destination” title.

The show itself, which has been branded as the “world’s best and biggest fountain”, was admittedly, pretty magical. It lasted for 20 minutes, and featured shooting streams of water coloured by flashing lights, perfectly choreographed to a variety of popular Korean songs. Given that Steph and I had been discussing (often feeling uncertain about) our future careers, Steph sarcastically quipped that “this is actually someone’s job. They just coordinate water and lights to music as their livelihood!” We also joked that they hadn’t quite done the job justice, since “Let It Go” from the Frozen OSD, which would have been a perfect choice for the Sunset Fountain of Dreams’ light show, was not utilized.

The light show ended rather quickly (or so it felt at the time), and Steph and I began the long journey home; not before, of course, jumping on the trampoline one last time. Despite how zonked out I felt on the subway back to Jangsan, Steph and I had enjoyed a perfect, spur of the moment day in an area I knew I wouldn’t be returning to, ever. The “neurotic planner” inside me flashed a toothy grin.

* I use the term “love” lightly – it was indeed a charming area, but not one that you could pay me enough to live in for the duration of a full-year teaching contract.

Directions
To get to Dadaepo Beach and the Dadaepo Sunset Fountain of Dreams, take the Red Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Sinpyeong Station (stop 101). Go out exit 5, and wait at the bus stop on your right. Buses 2, 11, 338, and 1000 will all take you to Dadaepo. The bus ride takes approximately 20 minutes. Get off the bus at the DaeU apartment complex on the right side of the street. The beach and fountain are a five minute walk straight down the road, across the street. Note: The fountain is closed every Monday. For more information regarding show times and seasons, please click here.

Bukchon Hanok Village

This is a Korean Bucket List post. Check out the rest of my list here.

As I mentioned late last week, my two trips to Seoul this year were short and sweet, but not without a “millennial abroad” hustle and flare.

Immediately after Steph, Mary, Nina, and I finished touring around Gyeongbokgung Palace, we headed to Bukchon Hanok Village, knowing that we would only have about an hour and a half to explore before heading to Seoul Station to catch our train. Hustle, hustle, flare.

As is common with my bucket listing these days, I had researched some worthwhile sights to visit in Seoul weeks and weeks before going, in the spirit of Type-A planning. Once I was en route to Bukchon, however, the significance or even a visual of this tiny village had totally escaped my mind. This would explain why the girls and I spent approximately thirty minutes wandering around Samcheong-dong, assuming that these charming streets lined with its hip cafés, galleries, and shoppes were those of Bukchon Hanok Village.

Eventually, we realized that while the the neighbourhood of Samcheong comprises Bukchon, we needed to ascend a concealed staircase off of the main road, Samcheongdong-gil. Soon, the trendy accessory stores and bustling roads disappeared. Bukchon was very similar to Gyeongbokgung in that sense – despite being located in the middle of a major metropolitan city, the quiet streets provided a sanctuary from the thronged crowds on the streets below.

Bukchon Hanok Village, with its close proximity to Gyeongbokgung Palace, Changdeokgung Palace and Jongmyo Shrine, also has a rich history rooted in the Joseon Dynasty. Bukchon comprises dozens of small alleys, lined with hundreds of traditional houses called “hanok” that were built during the Joseon Dynasty. The nearly 600-year old village has been meticulously preserved, and now functions as cultural centre for tourists to experience what the atmosphere of the Joseon Dynasty was truly like. The village is home to a hanok-style guesthouse (Rakgojae), a traditional liquor brewery, and several museums devoted to traditional Korean talismans, embroidery, and Buddhist art.

The girls and I strolled the quiet streets of Bukchon for about 30 minutes, admiring the beautifully tiled roofs and serene atmosphere of the village. We were careful to admire quietly – there were multiple signs informing tourists to be respectful to the residents who call the hanoks home. Unlike other hanok villages throughout Korea, Bukchon was not constructed to function as a tourist attraction. I find it truly amazing that Bukchon has been preserved to the state in which it has been, and feel blessed that I got to observe and experience the Joseon Dynasty way of life, even in a “hustle, hustle, flare” sort of way.

Directions
To get to Bukchon Hanok Village, take Line 3 on the Seoul Subway to Anguk Station (stop 328). Walk straight for about 300m to arrive at the village. In addition, there is a Tourist Information Centre outside of exit 1, which provides tourism information on the Bukchon Hanok Village and Samcheong-dong.

Note: Please keep this in mind and follow the precautions below when visiting Bukchon Hanok Village:
– Please keep noise levels to a minimum (e.g. no loud voices, horsing around, filming, etc.) especially in the 31 Gahoe-dong area
– Please do not litter
– Please keep group visits to a maximum of 10 people
– Please do not use microphones or loudspeakers
– Please do not take photos or film the insides of houses

Camping at Songjeong Beach

This is a Busan Ex-Pat City Guide post. Check out the rest of my list here.

Photos by David Smolak. Check out his Instagram and Tumblr for more of his photography.

After a pretty disastrous camping experience on Bijindo Island in early June, I was feeling slightly wary that “Camping at Songjeong Beach” was one of the last fixtures on my Korean Bucket List. To give you some context, I was incredibly under-prepared to sleep in the sand at Bijindo. I brought no bedding of any kind; light, ineffective clothing, and very little food for an overnight stay under the stars on a relatively deserted island. I’ve had some pretty terrible slumbers during my time in Asia (Tokyo stairwells, anyone?), and Bijindo certainly qualifies as one of the worst.

Thankfully, every situation is one to learn from, so when the last weekend of June was all cloudless and sun-drenched, I decided I would go whole-hog on preparing for a night and day at Songjeong Beach. Three bags full of blankets, pillows, chunky sweaters, sweatpants, and a two-person tent later, I was hailing a cab with my fellow Montrealer, David, our sights set for Songjeong Beach.

I had forgotten how much I really enjoyed the atmosphere of Songjeong Beach (my last visit there was in mid-August 2013). Comparatively smaller than Haeundae and Gwangalli, Songjeong was still teeming with the excited chatter of groups sipping soju and wild shrieks of children building sandcastles when we arrived at 10:30PM. After we set up our sleeping arrangements, we gathered the necessary supplies for a “millennial sleepover” – beers, snacks, and plenty of ammunition for a three hour game of “Never Have I Ever”, all to the tune of crackling fireworks exploding overhead. It was truly the childhood experience I had never had!

Overnight at Songjeong was much more restful than Bijindo had been, although, the tent basically became on oven at around 7AM with the sunrise. David and I rose with it, taking an early morning dip in the ocean and settling into a day of sunbathing. Eventually, the locals of Busan’s famed “surf beach” began to spill out of the numerous surf shacks lining Songjeong’s main strip. We watched a dozen surfers warming up, their brows dripping and tensing up with sweat and pain under the hot sun. They took to the water and rode baby waves onto the shore until well into the late afternoon. Around them, children splashed and frolicked happily under the hot sun and their parents’ reproachful eyes. David and I took in the sights and sounds of Songjeong Beach until the sun disappeared behind the clouds at around 5PM. With my sunburn in tow, I headed back to Haeundae at the close of yet another weekend in Busan.

Songjeong Beach is the perfect location for those looking to camp in Busan on a sunny weekend – a small and quiet beach buzzing with families and couples, offering a great ambiance. The biggest draw for those Frugal Freddies is that Songjeong is free of charge for camping, and thus, totally free of troubles.

Directions
To get to Songjeong Beach, take the Green Line on the Busan Subway (Line 2) to Haeundae Station (stop 203), and go out exit 7. From here, take either Bus No. 100, 100-1, 139, or 142. The ride should take approximately 20 minutes, depending on traffic. Get off at Songjeong Station and walk 600 meters until you reach the beach. Alternatively, a cab from Haeundae should cost approximately ₩5,000.

Gyeongbokgung Palace

This is a Korean Bucket List post. Check out the rest of my list here.

On my very short list of “things I wish I had done differently during my year in Asia”, (I hate using the word “regret”), “spending more time in Seoul” would definitely place towards the top of it. Collectively, between a trip in August with Jess and Maddie and in June for Ultra Music Festival, I only spent approximately 52 hours in South Korea’s capital city during my year abroad. While my aforementioned trip to Seoul for Ultra Music Festival was one that I was frequently stuck in transit for, I did manage to prioritize a trip to the famed Gyeongbokgung Palace, located in the heart of Seoul.

Gyeongbokgung Palace, which literally means “palace greatly blessed by Heaven”, was originally constructed in 1395, (and later reconstructed in 1867 after a fire destroyed it during the Japanese Invasion from 1592-1598), and was the largest of the Five Grand Palaces built by the Joseon Dynasty. If you’re totally #irrelevant and are unfamiliar with the Joseon Dynasty, it was basically the Regina George of the Korean dynasties. The Joseon Dynasty may look like your normal, incredibly influential, legacy leaving, stone-faced, power-consolidating period for modern Korea with regard to language, etiquette, and cultural norms, but in reality, it’s so much more than that.

The girls and I rose from our Ultra-induced slumber in the late morning on Sunday and made our way to the palace grounds from Hongdae. Steph recommended taking the subway to Gwanghwamun Station in lieu of the aptly named Gyeongbokgung Palace Station. Her reason was “the subway exit is just so beautiful!” With arched eyebrows, I obliged. Steph, however, was totally vindicated when my arched eyebrows disappeared into a look of wonder. The subway exit opens onto Gwanghwamun Square, offering a beautiful intersection of antiquity and modernity. It features two giant statues – the first of Admiral Yi Sun-shin, and the second of King Sejong – mounted in the centre of the square, while the surrounding cityscape and mountainous terrain unfold around Gwanghwamun.

We walked down the promenade until we reached Gwanghwamun Gate (which, translated, means “may the light of enlightenment blanket the world” – quite a beautiful sentiment), and subsequently snapped some photos with the colourfully-robed guards stoically protecting the gates. We eventually reached the palace grounds proper, and purchased our tickets to enter the Heungnyemun, the first gate in the palace walls. This folded out into the Geunjeongjeon, which was used to entertain former kings’ envoys and guests. This hall was quite ostentatious, the lone figure in an otherwise arid square. The detailing of the hall was similar to other pagodas I’ve seen throughout Korea – intricately crafted and rich with colour.

One of my favourite part of the palace grounds was the Gyeonghoeru Pavillion, another space that had been intended for envoys and guests of Joseon Dynasty kings. The two story pavilion sits in the middle of a pond, surrounded by (what look like) dongbaek trees and weeping willows. Unsurprisingly,the girls snapped a few headstand and handstand photos of me with Gyeonghoeru in the background (see below). My other favourite area was Hyangwonjeong, another small pavillion in the middle of an artificial lake with hundreds of lily pads floating on its surface. A small bridge, the Chwihyanggyo , although not open to the public, connected the pavillion to the rest of the grounds. These quiet nooks were both so peaceful that I completely forgot that Seoul’s busy metropolis was just beyond the palace’s walls.

The girls and I slothfully sauntered around the rest of the palace grounds for about an hour, visiting the living quarters of King Gojong (Geoncheonggung), the crown prince and his wife (Donggung), as well as the Governor General’s residence before finally taking refuge in a cafe to enjoy some soft-serve ice cream beneath a vine-covered trellis. As the sun fiercely blazed, dripping vanilla ice cream down the side of my hand, I practiced some sun (minus the “set”) gratitude: I truly was in a “palace blessed by Heaven”.

Directions
To get to Gyeongbokgung Palace, take either Line 3 on the Seoul Subway and go to Gyeongbokgung Palace Station (stop 327) or Line 5 to Gwanghwamun Station (stop 533) and go out exit 2. The Palace will be in plain sight from both stops. Note: Gyeongbokgung Palace is closed on Tuesdays. For additional information on admission fees, operating hours, and tours, please refer to the Official Korea Tourism Organization.

Ultra Music Festival

This is a Korean Bucket List post. Check out the rest of my list here.

The day hyped up furiously for over 10 months FINALLY arrived this past weekend.

Without a doubt, Ultra Music Festival in Seoul was the item on my Korean Bucket List that I was most looking forward to this year. After Jess and Maddie regaled Mary and I with stories from Ultra 2013 over the course of this year (you can read about some of them here), we made a pact in the middle of September to attend together. We wasted no time purchasing our tickets during the early bird phase a few months ago, making our attendance official. Ultra 2014 was a go!

The weekend journey to Ultra started with a lot of transit. Steph and I opted for the cheaper six hour Korail train from Haeundae to Seoul that also stopped to pick up Mary and Nina from Gupo. Once we arrived at Seoul Station, it was a mad blur of grabbing a quick lunch, taking the subway to our hostel in Hongdae, learning our hostel hadn’t bothered to send an e-mail to inform us that they couldn’t accommodate us, and cabbing to a new hostel a few blocks away. Oy vey.

After 9 hours of stopping and going, we were finally settled. We checked our watches, and sure enough they read “Fun O’Clock”. We opened our respective bags of tricks, and out spilled cheap Korean beer, disposable cameras, glowsticks, and of course, face paint. Once we were appropriately donned in our best electronic music festival garb, we set off from Hongdae to the Seoul Olympic Stadium via cab. After some more stopping and going, (Ultra literally had five different check-points before entering the festival), we were finally in. Cue excitement!

Our first stop was the main stage for Blasterjaxx. The duo of Dutch DJs had already begun their set by the time the girls and I spilled into the stadium, and the energy of was truly electric. People of all nationalities were waving flags proudly and dancing joyfully in masks and face paint, and booty shorts and all-too-revealing tanks. The timing of our arrival at the stadium was pretty perfect, too – the sun was setting during Blasterjaxx’s set, changing a hazy day into a hazy night and our mental states with it.

Ultra had a variety of sponsors, including Carlsberg, Smirnoff, and Red Bull. Each of these three were serving up beverages, but it was clear that Red Bull had control of the market (read: Red Bull drink kiosks everywhere). The girls and I probably consumed about five Red Bulls each over the course of the evening. Steph grimly joked that she did not want to be that girl who drank too many energy drinks and passed out with heart palpitations, and she had a point. There was one point where I couldn’t tell if I was wired from the music and atmosphere or from the taurine in my veins.

Perhaps the best part of the entire night was M.I.A.’s set. My mind was immediately transported to my high school self, where I would cruise around good old Brockville blaring “Paper Planes”. Towards the middle of Mathangi’s set, she wondered aloud if she “could get some people onstage”. Immediately, members of the crowd began hopping the metal barriers, eager for a chance to dance with the Sri Lankan beauty. I managed to get myself over the barrier quickly, only to get my foot caught in between the metal bars and other scrambling concertgoers. Eventually, Steph and I found ourselves dancing at the front of the stage, awe-struck at the fact that we were actually there. I’ve been to a lot of concerts in my day, but this was easily my favourite live music memory. After the stage cleared, M.I.A. came back out to close with a few of her more popular songs, “Paper Planes” and “Bad Girls”. It was an amazing set that united swagger with its good friend, chaos.

Our last stop at Ultra Korea was the Main Stage to see Steve Angello, of Swedish House Mafia fame. By this point, I was completely blissed out. Despite a little bit of panic earlier when I lost (and found!) my alien registration card, and that fact that my back was aching from hoisting each of the girls on my shoulders (twice!), Ultra was closed out in a perfect fashion. Steve Angello’s set was filled with so much happiness and dancing. I felt so carefree and I think my mind was playing “Young, Wild and Free” on a subconscious loop. Towards the end of the night, Mary and I clasped hands and bounced up and down with maniacal grins on our faces, as if to say, “we made it and it was perfect!”

And it was. Perfect.

Haeundae Sand Festival

This is a Busan Ex-Pat City Guide post. Check out the rest of my list here.

“Just another manic Monday – wish it was Sunday.”

Nope, nope, nope – not today. I woke up this morning in an absolutely chipper mood. Why, you ask? Oh, just a casual Monday morning field trip to the beach for the Haeundae Sand Festival, that’s all!

The Haeundae Sand Festival happens every year on Busan’s largest beach, Haeundae. Despite Busan’s reputation as a coastal town and playing host to five major beaches, this is the South Korea’s only festival based on appreciation for sand (huh?!) Given that it only lasts for three days, my head teacher had to amend the regularly designated field trip day (Friday) in favour of Monday morning. However, this was the best possible outcome since the field trip took me from “totally zonked out” to “z0mg look at all of this energy, I’m the best teacher in the world!”

We arrived at Haeundae Beach mid-morning. I rode with my homeroom students – Aiden, Grace, and Sa-Yeon of Happiness Class. After informing the students of the “beach rules”, (“no eating sand”, “no throwing sand”, no drowning, etc.), we were off to look at the various sculptures scattered across the sand.

The theme of the 2014 Haeundae Sand Festival felt slightly garbled. Featuring Tarzen and Jane as the main players, the festival was (aptly?) named “Through the Sand Jungle”. While there were important elements of environmental awareness and protection throughout (Tarzan and Jane end up saving the beach through sand restoration – yay!), the entire backstory felt like it had been written by one of my fourth-graders and didn’t really add much to the beautiful scenery. I’m all for motifs, but in this case, the backstory was completely unnecessary; methinks a simple “here’s a sand sculpture of a gorilla” would have sufficed.

It’s always so refreshing to see the looks of wonder and excitement on the faces of five year olds. They absolutely marvelled at the giant sculptures featuring lions, rhinoceroses, and other jungle imagery. One of the cooler elements of the Sand Festival was the large sand hill at the end of the beach, towards Marine City. At any given moment, hordes of children could be seen clambering to its peak, only to be unsuspectingly yanked down the hill on a sand board by  their parents. Other (admittedly unexplored) elements of the festival included a “sand theatre” where visitors could view short films and documentaries, a sand exploration hall containing seven differently themed rooms, and a sand maze. I silently wept upon learning that the sand maze was not on our itinerary for the day. I do love a good labyrinth!

Towards the end of our time at the beach, the kids were allowed to flex their creative muscles, (something seriously lacking from Korea’s hagwon system, in my opinion), by building sand sculptures and castles, themselves. After dozens of references to Elsa’s ice palace in Frozen, too many pockets filled with seashells, and wails of “teacher, there is sand in my eye!”, it was almost time to leave. My head teacher did allow the children to strip off their socks, sandals, and in my case, leather loafers, to run in and splash about ankle-deep in the ocean. Very wet, much fun, so smiles!

While I’ve heard rumours that this year’s festival was significantly less ostentatious than in year’s past, I thoroughly enjoyed it. The Haeundae Sand Festival is one-stop shopping for the millennial soul – one can marvel at the beautiful sand sculptures at one end of the beach before moving to the opposite end to enjoy a day in the sun. Sand, sightseeing, and sunbathing – Busan’s tried and true recipe for an amazing summer!

Directions
To get to Haeundae Beach, take the Green Line on the Busan Subway (Line 2) to Haeundae Station (stop 203). Go out either exit 3 or 5 and walk straight until you hit the beach (this takes approximately 10 minutes). The Haeundae Sand Festival happens every June for approximately 3 days during the first or second week of June. The 2014 Festival took place from June 6th to the 9th.

Chungnyeolsa Shrine

This is a Busan Ex-Pat City Guide post. Check out the rest of my list here.

Today is Election Day in Busan. It constitutes an important day where the citizens of Busan can exercise their civic duties to safeguard the values they hold most dear. Since I cannot participate in this particular election, I decided to spend my afternoon at Chungnyeolsa Shrine, a site commemorating citizens of Busan who also safeguarded their own values – over 400 years ago.

Chungnyeolsa Shrine is dedicated to those Korean nationalists who lost their lives during the Japanese invasion of Korea between 1592 and 1598. The bravery of the largely unprepared Korean troops and volunteers who fought against annexation are memorialized at the Chungnyeolsa. The complex itself consists of a main hall, fifteen subsidiary structures, and nearly one hundred tablets in memory of the Busan area patriots who lost their lives defending Busan.

I spent around an hour exploring the large grounds of Chungnyeolsa. I started at the small koi pond near the entrance of the shrine. I watched as earnest children deposited coins into a machine dispensing fish food, their faces alight with wonder as they sprinkled it into the water beneath them. I worked my way around to a quiet elevated park on the west side of the complex, where groups of men huddled together to watch games of (what looked like) backgammon. I sat for about fifteen minutes and drank in how peaceful and restrained it felt beneath the perfectly trimmed tree branches of Chungnyeolsa. Even though I could see the urban sprawl of Busan just beyond the shrine’s walls, I felt far removed; in my own private Garden of Eden.

The park itself is meticulous and manicured. Every type of tree, flower, shrub, bush, plant, and weed you could imagine was in bloom, neatly trimmed, fighting against every unruly tendency it might have. The shrine contains dozens of seated areas, ranging from gazebos, wood benches, and circular rock formations, depending on your mood. Chungnyeolsa also gains serious points for being completely wheelchair accessible.

I eventually reached Chungnyeolsa’s Main Hall, which is dedicated to twenty-two officers who lost their lives during battle. Perhaps more interesting to me was the Uiyeolgak complex. This particular shrine is dedicated to two women who resisted Japanese aggressors by throwing roofing tiles upon them. I pulled my hands to heart centre and bowed to these women, but felt quite sure that there were more unsung female heroes that deserve equal representation at Chungnyeolsa.

The day soon turned overcast and rainy. I decided to depart the shrine, but not before ambling over to peer down into the koi pond one last time. I caught my own reflection in the clear waters, flashed a quick smile and turned on my heel to leave. Mushy, but it’s true.

Directions
To get to Chungnyeolsa Shrine, take the Blue Line on the Busan Subway (Line 5) to Chungnyeolsa Station (stop 405). Go out exit 3, and turn left until you are facing the large white stone monument. Take your first right and walk for about a minute. You will see a flight of stairs on your left. Take them and the shrine will be on your right.

Seokbulsa Temple

This is a Busan Ex-Pat City Guide post. Check out the rest of my list here.

Known as the “Stone Buddha Temple”, or Byeongpung-am (the “Folding Screen Hermitage”), Seokbulsa Temple is perched high upon Geumjeongsanseong Mountain. The temple is a bit of an anomaly – the majority of Koreans and foreigners I’ve spoken to have never heard of it, yet it is consistently ranked as a “must see” by Lonely Planet and other travel blogs. I was excited to be let in on the secrets of Seokbulsa.

I visited the temple in mid-April, a month that was all about early morning wake-up calls on the weekends. Following a Saturday night slumber party with the girls, we woke to an overcast Sunday in Busan. Nonetheless, we laced up our runners, downed our requisite Starbucks lattes, and began the great journey to Seokbulsa.

The subway ride itself was a bit of a voyage, as we had to switch from the green to the brown to the red line. Once we reached Oncheonjang, we caught a cab to the base of Geumgang Park, the grounds which house both Seokbulsa and the Geumjeongsanseong Mountain Fortress. The rain was starting to fall at this point, and I remember thinking, “I hate this already”.

Just beyond the entrance of Geumgang Park, we found the ticketing office for the cable car up to Geumjeongsanseong Mountain. My spirits were lifted at the prospect of being physically lifted up the mountain, plus, I had never taken a cable car before. I’m all about experiencing everything, but I feel like I need to ride a cable car at least once more in my life. The foggy views of Busan’s cityscape and the forest unfolding below us were absolutely breathtaking. I wrote the word “bumnaegol” in the condensation forming on the cable car’s window to mark my time there.

Once we reached the top, the hard work began. Apart from simply mustering the energy to hike to the temple, (we were still very groggy at this point), we also had to effectively navigate our way there. This was much more difficult than we had initially anticipated. We had assumed that we could simply follow a group of hikers to the temple, but quickly learned that there were dozens of trails; some leading the Seokbulsa, some leading to the Geumjeongsanseong Fortress, some leading to Beomeosa Temple, and some simply for meandering nature enthusiasts. The signs, obviously all in Korean, also weren’t exactly a big help to us either (0.8km to what, exactly?!)

Thankfully, a kind Korean gentleman offered his adept navigational skills, and put us on the right path to the temple. Originally, he led us to one of the fortress entrances, but recalculated to lead us through a quaint mountain hamlet, covered in cherry blossom leaves. There were rows of tiny, roofed tents occupied by smiling ajummas serving up rice cakes to groups of hikers sipping on thimbles of soju. The entire scene was completely picturesque, and we all agreed to return for lunch after we visited the temple.

After exiting the village, and gaining some assurances from other hikers (“Say-uk-bowl-sah Tem-pull-uh? This way?”), we finally reached the main path. We crossed small bridges, avoided tripping over numerous jutting rocks and tree roots, and descended a rather perilous flight of stairs bordering a quiet bubbling brook. This rather enchanted forest reminded me a little bit of the grounds surrounding Hogwarts, and I was almost breathlessly waiting for a pack of centaurs to hop out from behind a tree and offer us a ride on their backs to the temple.

The last leg of the journey to the temple can only be described as a “long and winding road”. The majority of the blog posts I had read about Seokbulsa indicated that this part of the hike would be treacherous and awful and so bad that you would slap your own mother in the face to avoid going back down. Apologies for the humble brag, but I didn’t find the hike any more strenuous than Mount Geumnyeonsan or Jangsan Mountain. That said, I was admittedly dripping in sweat by the time we reached the temple. Thankfully, it was a happy sweat.

I don’t know about the girls, but I felt vindicated once we reached the grounds of Seokbulsa. The temple complex housed a small, two-story stone pagoda, much less ostentatious than others I’ve seen throughout Asia. Before ascending the stairs into the temple, we stopped to appreciate the mountains rising from the mist in every direction, the attention to detail on the giant bell that hung in front of the temple, and most importantly, the placid beauty of a virtually deserted temple high above Busan.

Between the giant mountains and the six towering stone Buddhas staring down at me, I was reminded of how insignificant my daily worries are. I felt incredibly humbled as we left the sacred temple, pledging to remember not only how beautifully intricate the carvings were, but also how liberated they made me feel.

I had a very pensive hike back down, trying to internalize my pledge while also reminding myself to keep my weight over my knees – I’m no stranger to the old twisted ankle. After about 25 minutes, we reached the tiny village, where we enjoyed a celebratory meal of pajeon (a Korean pancake primarily made of green onions and leeks) and beer. It felt so good to toast to what we had achieved that day – all before 2PM! While I didn’t enjoy any pajeon (leeks, yuck!), I did try some roasted king crabs, a slightly less adequate snack to pair with beer than, let’s say nuts, but manageable.

If you’re going to brave Seokbulsa Temple, don’t half-ass it: bring snacks (I opted for granola bars and bananas), at least 2L of water (you’re going to sweat a lot), proper footwear (as I said, twisted ankles are no fun, and neither are blisters), as well as a positive attitude.

Seokbulsa is worth it if you’re concerned with gaining street cred for journeying to obscure locales, experiencing new things like riding a cable car or sampling roasted king crabs, and being astounded by the beauty of nature. Otherwise, maybe you ought to stick to Shinsegae.

Directions
To get to Seokbulsa Temple, take the Orange Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Oncheonjang Station (stop 127). I would recommend taking a cab to Geumgang Park (approximately ₩3,500). Enter the park, and follow the signs to the cable car ticketing office. A round trip costs ₩7,000.

This Busan Haps review of Seokbulsa Temple contains very clear directions from the cable car, however, if you do get lost, show the following Hangul (석불사) to a fellow hiker and pray that you receive adequate directions.

Bujeon Market

This is a Busan Ex-Pat City Guide post. Check out the rest of my list here.

What originally started as a simple trip to H&M in Seomyeon quickly turned into a detour into the heart of Busan’s largest indoor market.

Located in one of Busan’s commercial centres, Seomyeon, Bujeon Market occupies over a half dozen streets and alleys. There are literally no vacant stands – every stall is filled, with vendors selling everything from fresh produce to ajummas visors to sides of pork to cow heads to fresh seafood. There are smiling ajusshis spraying down buckets of fish and and crustaceans with a hose. There are the unsmiling ajummas separating the good onions from the bad. There are cats and dogs with seemingly no owner wandering around on top of giant stacks of ginger and garlic cloves.

The market itself is obscenely cheap, especially on the produce side. I almost felt pangs of jealousy for those who live closer to Seomyeon than I. While I do enjoy my own neighbourhood market (Jungdong Market), Bujeon is one stop shopping for anything and everything that is lacking from your new (or old) Korean apartment/kitchen.

The atmosphere of Bujeon Market is relatively relaxed, despite the larger crowds. It’s perfect for people-watching, so grab a seat in the middle of the market on one of the circular stumps in the waiting area for a brief repose. Life feels much easier when you’re simply cocking your head towards the direction of a persistent vendors trying to attract you to their booth, or perusing barrels of grains and nuts for a new yogourt topping.

Directions
To get to Bujeon Market, take the Green Line on the Busan Subway (Line 2) to Seomyeon Station (stop 219). Take exit 15 and walk straight out for about five minutes. Bujeon Market will be down multiple side streets on your left.