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.

Lotte Giants Baseball Game

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

I can’t even begin to fathom how excited my father is going to be when he reads that me – little old bookish, bloggish me! – went to a baseball game. (LOL joking, my mom is the only one who reads this anyway). But, it really did happen and I really did love it.

Steph, Mary, Nina, Brandi and I headed to Sajik Stadium this past Saturday to watch Busan’s Lotte Giants take on Seoul’s Nexen Heroes. Baseball in Korea seems to be some sort of aphrodisiac, because Koreans and foreigners alike love it and go on and on about the joys of a Saturday afternoon game. Before they left Korea, Jess and Maddie insisted I go. My young elementary school boys constantly ask if “I know the famous player Kim Han-eol”, to which I always respond with a blank stare. Even my Korean co-teachers who, to me, would seem completely disinterested in baseball, rave about games. It is serious business here.

We arrived too late to purchase a ticket to the sold out event, but luckily, Steph and Brandi managed to find a(n adorable ajumma) scalper selling them for ₩20,000. We entered the stadium, and were greeted by (somewhat) deafening cheers from a stadium packed with baseball enthusiasts.

Admittedly, none of us knew anything about baseball, and for the longest time, we thought it was the Giants who were slaughtering the Heroes. Thankfully we had Brandi, our very own little baseball savant, to help explain the series of confusing numbers, letters, dots, and jargon associated with the scoreboard and baseball, generally (and to also inform us that the Giants were the ones being slaughtered). I can honestly own up to zoning out for much of Brandi’s explanation, by no fault of hers. My brain is simply not wired to care about baseball beyond the very superficial “wow, I’m in a sports stadium!” level.

That said, I really enjoyed the Korean baseball experience. The Nexen Heroes did unfortunately destroy the Giants (the final score was 14-2), but there was too many typically/adorably Korean things happening to be fazed by the loss. The derpy little bat girl with her pumping knees and giggle as she ran to grab bats off the field. The chants of  “ajooooooraaaah!” (roughly translated, this means “give it to a kid!”) when a ball would fly into the crowds. Orange plastic bags intended for garbage tied into a bow and placed upon spectators’ heads. 7/11 convenient stores all over the stadium, selling tall boys of my favourite Korean beer, Cass, for $2.70CAD. Groups of Korean teenagers sitting and nomming on entire boxes of pizza, fried chicken, and Korean BBQ, cheering between chewing. The entire thing was such a spirited occasion and really showed me that South Korea is on their baseball grind.

Overall, my evening at Sajik Stadium was all brews and balls with my biddies, which is just how I like it. This was another Bucket List favourite for me, and I would highly recommend it to tourists and expats alike. A night of Korean baseball will feel almost like home, but with a Korean twist. That’s why you’re here anyway, right?

Directions
To get to Sajik Stadium, take the Brown Line on the Busan Subway (Line 3) to Sajik Station (stop 308). Take exit 1 and walk straight out for two blocks, before turning right. Continue straight down this road and the stadium will be on your left (you honestly can’t miss it). Entrance to Sajik Stadium for a Lotte Giants game approximately is ₩7,000. More pricing details can be found here.

The Busan Museum

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

Did I really visit the Busan Museum? Frankly, the entire thing was a bit of a boring blur. After departing the UN Memorial Cemetery with Mary and Steph, we came across the museum by accident. In a very “YOLO, let’s go learn some things!” moment, the three of us entered the museum. We left about fifteen minutes later, probably less knowledgeable about Busan than we had been upon entrance.

The Busan Museum itself seems fairly curated. It has two main exhibition halls – one devoted to habitation in Busan, spanning across the Palaeolithic, Samhan, Silla, Samguk, and Joseon Periods, and the other devoted to modern and contemporary Busan. The latter also features an exhibit on Korean-Japanese relations.

The museum maybe tries to pack too great a punch, and suffers from “information overload”. I found the lighting made the entire place feel a little desolate, but overall, I think I was just more interested in talking to Mary about our applications to school for the fall.

No offense meant to the Busan Museum, but you were the tiniest and most boring blip on my Korean Bucket List radar so far. Keep hustling, though. If it’s any consolation, I would have enjoyed you much more as a field trip with my kindergarten students.

Directions
To get to the Busan Museum, take the Green Line on the Busan Subway (Line 2) to Daeyeon Station (stop 213). Go straight out exit 3, take your first right, and proceed straight for about 10 minutes. The Busan Museum will be on your left. Entrance to the museum is free (thank goodness).

UN Memorial Cemetery

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

It’s quite easy to forget when you’re living in the industrialized, developed, modern city of Busan that South Korea as it exists today has not always looked this way. South Korea, as a nation is very young and the wounds from the Korean War are still pretty fresh.

Busan’s UN Memorial Cemetery is a solemn reminder of this fact. As the only one of its kind in the world, the UN Memorial Cemetery is a burial ground, paying tribute to the fallen servicewomen and men of the United Nations Command (UNC) during the Korean War.

Mary, Steph and I visited the cemetery on an overcast Saturday afternoon as a pitstop before our coastal walk at Igidae Park. The mood of the cemetery is pretty sombre. There certainly weren’t as many tourists snapping photographs of the grave sites as I’ve seen at other Busan tourist sites. The girls and I spent the majority of our time at the cemetery simply walking the rows of the burial sites, divided by nation, and paying our respects to the fallen service members.

I’m not a very patriotic person when it comes to Canada, but I did feel a sense of pride in seeing how much Canada assisted with the war efforts. 378 Canadians selflessly gave their lives during the Korean War, as members of the UNC. This number seemed quite large to me until we reached the UNMCK Wall of Remembrance. The 140 black marble panelled wall lists over 40,000 names of UNC service members, either killed or missing, during action. While Canada had about 4 panels, the United States casualties occupied the majority of the wall, upwards of 60 panels. Steph probably put it best: “You can read the figures of how many people died during the war, but it’s much more sobering when you see every name laid out on a sprawling marble wall.”

Apart from the main burial sites and Wall of Remembrance, there are memorials devoted to a number of the 16 countries involved in the UN’s war effort, including Britain, France, Australia, and Greece, two halls devoted to memorial services and memorabilia from the Korean War, and an interfaith chapel. There was actually a memorial service being held at the chapel as the girls and I were looping around to leave the park, so I got the impression that services happen daily.

While the UN Memorial Cemetery has a more grave and dignified atmosphere than other sights throughout the city, there is a lot of beauty to be found throughout the park. Upon entering, we were greeted by rows of neatly trimmed juniper trees. A little further, we came across a trio of beautiful cherry blossom trees. A group of ducks waddled past us after reaching the memorabilia display hall. Even though there is an overwhelming sense of sadness permeating throughout the grounds, it isn’t too hard to find beauty alongside history at Busan’s UN Memorial Cemetery.

Directions
To get to the UN Memorial Cemetery, take the Green Line on the Busan Subway (Line 2) to Daeyeon Station (stop 213). Go straight out exit 1, take your first right, and proceed straight for about 10 minutes. The UN Memorial Cemetery will be on your left. Entrance to the park is free.

Busan Tower and Yongdusan Park

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

My first thought while researching Yongdusan Park was Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I’m not exactly positive why, but I assume it has something to do with the etymology of the park’s name. “Yongdusan” translates to “dragon’s head mountain” and somehow this reminded me of Harry retrieving the Golden Egg from the Hungarian Horntail during the Triwizard Tournament. A non-sequitur if I’ve ever heard one, but YOLO.

My visit to Yongdusan Park, which is also home to Busan Tower, happened on a busy Saturday in Nampo (Steph and I had already visited Jagalchi Market and the Let’s Eat Alley earlier that day). Shortly after, we met Mary at Nampo Station, and headed up the escalator into the park.

Yongdusan Park boasts two pavilions, (one of which houses an aquarium), a statue of the famed Joseon Dynasty General Yi Sun-shin, a bronze dragon called Cheongdongyongtap (no doubt an homage to the “dragon’s head mountain”), and multiple stone monuments to literary figures and anti-government protestors. The park itself offered great bursts of colour, from the pavilion to the various gardens, and this was my first indication that spring was indeed on its way.

We stopped briefly when we came across a traditional fish throwing festival taking place in the centre of the park. [Note: Upon further research, I have learned that this occurs every Saturday at 3PM!] We watched as the large congregation of men and women, equipped with nets and baskets, swayed in unison to the sounds of a resounding drum-line. I’m still not totally clear on the significance of the ceremony, but I’m always interested in the unexpected, especially in Korea.

We made friends with a Korean gentleman at an elevated lookout containing a wall of “love locks”, a la Paris. After he snapped a few photos of the girls, he insisted on sending them to Steph via e-mail. Lo and behold, 72h later Steph received the photos. The kindness of strangers, right?

After checking out Yongdusan Park, we were ready for Busan Tower. We paid the admission fee, boarded the elevator, and ascended the 120m tall tower. When the doors opened and our ears finished popping, we were ushered into a quaint, albeit meagre, cafe. The Busan Tower has two floors at its crest – the first playing host to this cafe and sitting area, and the second housing an observation deck. Both floors have wraparound windows, offering somewhat mediocre views of Nampo-dong. I did find the views of Nampo Port and Yongdu Mountain nice, but found myself questioning why the tower wasn’t erected in an area with more to see.

One interesting feature of the tower is that each windowpane enlightens visitors as to what Busan sites they are looking at given their position in the tower (i.e. If you look out this window, you’ll catch sight of the Oryukdo Islands, Democracy Park, etc.). Again, Busan Tower is located in an area of Busan great for commercial shopping but less renowned for dazzling sightseeing. My personal opinion is that the tower would have been better suited to an area like Centum City, but alas, I am no urban planner.

While Busan Tower doesn’t offer the most spectacular views that the city has to offer, it’s worth a trip to visit Yongdusan Park during the warm months. At the very least, you’re five minutes away from Nampo’s premier restaurant, Arun Thai.

Directions
To get to Busan Tower and Yongdusan Park, take the Orange Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Nampo-dong Station (stop 111). Go out exit 7 and turn left onto Gwangbokro Street. Proceed straight for about five minutes and you’ll come across the Yongdusan Park escalator (on the right side of the street). Entrance to the park is free, and admission to Busan Tower is W4,000.

Jagalchi Market

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

I am not a seafood person. Serve me any farmyard animal and I’ll scarf it down so fast that you won’t even remember that Old McDonald had a farm. Give me (most types of) fish, crustaceans, mollusks, echinoderms, or roe and I’m going to sit pouting at the dinner table until my meal is cold.

Despite my aversion to all of the things that frolic about the sea, I was eager to explore Busan’s iconic Jagalchi Market. The market, located on the edge of Nampo Port, is famed as the largest seafood market in all of Korea.

Steph and I visited Jagalchi at around midday on a Saturday. The market had already been abuzz for several hours and didn’t show any signs of slowing down. Equipped with our Nikon D90 and iPhone 5C, respectively, Steph and I made our way through the alleyway, and eventually emerged at Nampo Port. We watched a group of middle-aged men who appeared to be gambling near the dried fish racks before heading back into Jagalchi’s main strip, lined with colourful and holey umbrellas. We inspected baskets of fish and crustaceans that were pretty to look at, but not particularly palatable and tried to be as respectful as we possibly could when snapping photos, so as not to upset the ajummas working the stalls. [Note: We have both encountered situations where ajummas have gotten angry when we took their pictures. It’s better to err on the side of caution and ask first.]

The Jagalchi experience can be overwhelming. There is a constant barrage of shoppers pushing past you. The narrow alleys of the market are lined by booths selling every type of seafood you could imagine. There is water splashing, knives slicing, and grills sizzling. There are walls of tanks containing crabs and eerie fish, and buckets containing slithering eels and octopi. There are elderly Korean men frying mackerel on a hot plate and ajummas gutting fish and adding them to already towering piles. No matter where you go in Jagalchi, the market is alive with the sounds, sights, and smells of the sea. It sort of makes you forget the farm, if only for a second.

Directions
To get to Jagalchi Market, take the Orange Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Jagalchi Station (stop 110). Go out exit 10, and take your first right at Jagalchi 3(sam)-gil Street. Walk straight for five minutes and the market will be on your left-hand side.

Songdo Beach and Amnam Park

Photo from For 91 Days in Busan

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

Photos by Stephanie Pellett. Check out her blog Life in Limbo here.

It is a widely held belief that a horseshoe is said to attract good fortune and luck. While I don’t necessarily hold this notion as canon, it was a true stroke of luck to have recently added Busan’s horseshoe-shaped Songdo Beach and the nearby Amnam Park to my Korean Bucket List.

Compared to the other beaches in Busan that I’m familiar with, (namely Haeundae and Gwangalli) my mid-March visit to Songdo was unusually placid. The promenade was not overcrowded with couples taking selfies or struggling artists pedalling their heartfelt renditions of “My Heart Will Go On”. Instead, there were families taking quiet afternoon walks, and groups of ajummas sitting on the benches, quietly conversing.

Dogs of Songdo

The actual beach had an almost kitschy feel to it, with statues of dolphins and whales rising up from the water. The surrounding neighbourhood was filled with coastal hotels laying claims to the best coastal views in Nampo and the usual Korean coffee chains.

On the left side of the beach, we came across an archway that led out to a series of low-rising sea-stacks to walk upon. Inside the archway was an information sign that offered some history on Songdo’s tumultuous history. I learned that not only is it Busan’s oldest beach, (having officially opened in 1913) but is also its most berated. Songdo’s coastline took a pretty severe beating from multiple hurricanes, most notably Typhoon Thelma in 1991, which caused a great deal of sand loss. Following a reconstruction in 2000, the beach now plays host to a variety of celebrations, including the Busan Sea Festival.

Songdo selfies

After a few pictures on the sea-stacks, we moved to a scenic park elevated just above the beach. My favourite part about this area was a tiny glass house filled with books at the edge of the park. Unfortunately, we couldn’t access this outdoor library, as its door was locked. We brushed this off by practicing a few arm balances and headstands, as good yogis do.

Steph rockin’ her salamba sirsasana

Thereafter, we headed to the Songdo Coastal Walkway in order to get to Amnam Park. This walk was undoubtedly the best part of the day. Our journey along the red staircase that hugged the coast was timed perfectly with the setting sun. The walkway was almost completely empty, save for a few smiling ajummas, and just below us were numerous fishermen looking for their last catch of the day. The Coastal Walkway has been one of my favourite moments in Busan so far, and I’m looking forward to returning later this summer.

Songdo Coastal Walkway

The walkway took us approximately 25 minutes to cross. Upon reaching Amnam Park, we began to feel the effects of a full afternoon of walking on empty stomachs. We ended up hiking for about 15 minutes through the park, which was enough time to get some views, see some statues, and smell some pine trees. Amnam Park, while beautiful, couldn’t hold a candle to the astonishing views offered on the Songdo Coastal Walkway. Nor could it overshadow our rumbling stomachs. Sometimes, nature can only do so much when you’re fixing for some Thai food.

Library Park

Directions
To get to Songdo Beach and Amnam Park, take the Orange Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Jagalchi Station (stop 110). Go out exit 2, and take your first left. Just ahead is a bus stop; buses 7, 26, 71, or 96 will all get you to Songdo Beach, while buses 7, 9, and 91 will take you to Amnam Park. Alternatively, a cab from Jagalchi Market costs approximately ₩8,000.

Hurshimchung Spa

Photo from the Hotel Nongshim website

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

If there’s one thing that you should know about my friends and I during our year in Korea, it’s this: we love to get naked and soak our bodies in large, gender-segregated bathhouses, all while surrounded by hordes of (also naked) Koreans. This locale, otherwise known as a “jjimjilbang”, has been a constant weekend addiction since I arrived in Busan eight months ago. I still hold that fateful Sunday in August when the girls took me to the famed Centum City bathhouse, Spaland, as a cherished memory. [Read more about Spaland here.]

Given our addiction to Spaland, it seemed only natural to expand our horizons to other jjimjilbangs throughout the city. Labelled “the biggest and baddest hot spring fed spa in all of Asia”, Hurshimchung Spa is located in the charming Dongnae neighbourhood, an area that I had yet to visit after five and a half months in Busan. During my obligatory “pre-Bucket-List-research-session”, I was intrigued to learn that like all of the “Dynamic Busan hot spots”, Hurshimchung had a lore, all its own.

Fountain in the lobby of the Hotel Nongshim

As the story goes, after a weary journey through the Korean peninsula, a white crane stopped to dip its infirm legs into the hot springs of Dongnae. Shortly after, it left just as quickly as it came, completely cured from the healing waters. An elderly woman witnessed this miracle performed, followed the crane’s lead, and wouldn’t you know it – she was healed, too! With marketing like that, it’s no wonder that people from all over Asia travel to Busan to dip their own infirm bodies into these hot spring fed baths.

The girls and I met in Dongnae, and began our search for the Hotel Nongshim, which houses Hurshimchung Spa. This search proved fruitless, possibly because we began following a middle-aged Korean woman through the twists and turns of Dongnae. [Note: We were just assuming that she was insistent upon helping us find the spa since she didn’t actually speak any English. The poor soul ended up leading us in completely the wrong direction. I’m choosing to believe that she was just as confused as we were, and wasn’t hatching some sinister plot in the streets of Dongnae.] After splitting from our new Korean pal, we stumbled upon the hotel, weary from our journey, just as the white crane had been after his.

Upon separating from the girls, stripping down, and entering the baths, I soon learned that Hurshimching was indeed as popular as the interwebz had indicated. The shower area was literally crawling with people. It was so crowded in fact, that each shower stall was often occupied by two men bathing together. I’m all for men bathing together, but this was slightly bizarre. The whole scene was admittedly overwhelming, as I waited for a stall to free up. All the while, I’m standing there, nude, trying to communicate with only a look that said, “sorry, I’m next in line for this shower, so please back off.”

The bath area wasn’t much better with regard to over-crowding. My experiences at Spaland have always afforded me great personal space. I do my thing, the other patrons do theirs, all is well. At Hurshimching, the concept of a “personal bubble” dissolved like the green tea extracts they put into the baths. There were old Korean men basically sitting on my lap, as if I were Santa Clause and this bathhouse were a shopping mall. There were children with full-on snorkelling masks and fins diving into the hot-tubs. At one point, a child literally swam up THROUGH my legs. Let’s all just remember that I’m fully naked at this point in the recap.

Despite the crowds, Hurshimchung’s bath facilities were gorgeous. There were two “cave baths” in the corner, baths with names like “Philosophy Bath” and “Champagne Bath”, baths containing green tea and jasmine extracts in them, baths where you could watch television, a waterfall bath that pelted your body as you knelt down in child’s pose, and an “open air bath” for those brave enough to venture into the chilly outdoors, naked (which I was, obviously).

I ended up finding a quiet corner on the second level of the bathhouse to escape the madness below. When I returned to the first level, things had mellowed out a little bit, and I spent my remaining time relaxing in the cave bath.

The patbingsu offerings at Hurshimchung

Afterwards, I met the girls in the communal “Grand Resting Room”. They were even less enthused than I was about their Hurshimchung experience. The girls vowed to never return again, and I felt obliged to agree, if only because of Spaland’s relative proximity to my apartment complex. We ended up ordering noodles and our favourite frozen dessert, patbingsu. In a common trend, both turned out to be slightly inferior to the treats served at Spaland. We opted to leave the spa right away, avoiding the crowded bath area on our way out.

Besides the pretty bath facilities, the one thing that Hurshimchung really has going for it is the jjimjilbang attire they provide you with. The robes are positively Saved by the Bell-esque, and much more visually appealing than the brown and burgundy robes provided by Spaland. I plan on transforming the pants into beach shorts with the help of a tailor.

Don’t let the creeper teeth fool you – I’m not thrilled

In my opinion, Hurshimchung’s bath facilities are far superior to Spaland’s. However, Spaland trumps Hurshimchung in almost every other aspect. Spaland allows for a much quieter experience, is generally cleaner, and has better amenities. Hurshimchung’s “Grand Resting Room” looks like Hobo Junction compared Spaland’s relaxation room. Hurshimchung’s cafe is an adequate size with mediocre food. However, their resting room and cafe are the only places where patrons can really go outside the baths. Spaland, on the other hand offers a DVD room, a spacious outdoor foot bathing area, a relaxation room, a room filled with oxygen tanks – you get the idea.

In conclusion, if you’re looking for a relaxing spa experience, Spaland is probably for you. If you’re looking for a naked, waterpar-esque experience, head on over to Hurshimchung. Don’t forget your snorkelling gear.

Directions
To get to Hurshimchung Spa, take the Orange Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Oncheonjang Station (stop 127). Go out exit 1, and ascend the pedestrian overpass on your right to cross the street. Take two rights; the first at the traffic light after the pedestrian overpass, and the second at the Woori Bank. Hotel Nongshim will be on the left side, and Hurshimchung is just behind it. There’s an escalator in the hotel lobby which will lead you to the spa. Entrance is ₩8,000 and gives you admittance to the baths and all other amenities. Spa robes cost an additional ₩2,000.

Taejongdae Resort Park

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

Photos by Jess Sternberg. Follow her on Instagram here.

As a Canadian boy who has experienced some twenty-two winters in Southeastern Ontario, the relatively temperate climate of Busan has been a dream during the typically harsh winter months. Besides one day in mid-February when it “snowed” (read: there was light snowfall that evaporated before it even touched the ground), on the whole, the South Korean winter has treated me well. It has also given me the ability to remain active and explore the great outdoors of Busan during months where, in Canada, I would be hermitting indoors.

Taejongdae Resort Park, located on the southern coast of Busan in Yeongdo-gu, provided a perfect setting for exploring the great outdoors, in the form of a crisp January afternoon stroll. The weather on this particular Saturday felt like a late October day in Canada, so my fellow Toronto girls, Jess, Maddie, Mary, and I took advantage and ventured to the famous Busan monument to take some yoga photos and watch the sunset.

Taejongdae derives its name from King TaeJong Mu-Yeol of the Silla Dynasty (BC57 until AD 935) who used to fire arrows along this beautiful coastal area back in his heyday. The park is absolutely magnificent – serene forests, breathtaking views of the coast, and beautiful man-made monuments. The park itself is quite sprawling, so in order to reach the main attraction, the Taejongdae Lighthouse, in an expedient manner, the park’s Danubi train is almost necessary to save yourself a long journey on foot. Unfortunately, the girls and I mistook the line that was simply waiting to board the Danubi train as the line waiting to purchase tickets for the train, became impatient, and started walking along the road towards the sites of Taejongdae. [Note: We never made it to the lighthouse. All of the sads.]

While we never made it to the lighthouse or Sinseon Rock, (which according to myth was a relaxation spot for gods and goddesses), we did get to see Taejongdae’s beautiful Pebble Beach from one of the many observatories along the coastline. Mary and I surged ahead to visit the Taejongdae observatory, which provided some stunning views of the rocky Korea Strait and the famous “Suicide Rock”. A sombre statue of a mother with two children stands just outside the observatory to remind anyone who has ventured to Taejongdae to commit suicide that somewhere, their mother holds an unconditional love for them. The observatory was unfortunately our last stop before turning back, but provided us with some unforgettable panoramic views and interesting information about the “Taejong Rain” which happens around the 10th of May (on the Lunar calendar). As a result, Taejongdae serves as a famous site for rain prayers during droughts.

Eventually, the girls and I headed back towards the Pebble Beach, finding a quiet part of the forest where we could watch the sunset, undisturbed. Just to our left, we discovered a giant boulder on the coast, absolutely perfect for some sunset yoga photos. One at a time, we each slowly and surely crawled our way onto the rock, making sure we didn’t look down at the deep plunge beneath us should our loafers or Toms fail us. A couple of “rock”-solid warrior, mermaid, and lotus poses later, the girls and I left the park, while the sun finally set on the magnificent coastal park.

Directions
To reach Taejongdae Resort Park, take the Busan Subway Red Line (Line 1) to Busan Station (stop 113). From here, take Bus 88 or 101 until the Taejongdae Park stop (approximately 35 minutes). Alternatively, you can take Line 1 to Nampo (stop 111) and take a 20 minute cab ride to Taejongdae. Entrance is free. For those who want to explore Taejongdae without walking, the Danubi Train provides transportation for W1,500, as well as service in English, Korean, and Chinese.

Gamcheon Culture Village

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

Busan: The city of dreams, with its towering skyscrapers, sandy beaches, and hiking apparel stores as far as the eye can see. However, one can’t help but feel a little uninspired every once in a while in this bustling, concrete, ultra-modern metropolitan. The sea of identical-looking apartments, usually some “off” shade of brown, white, or gray, can be visually exhausting and the homogenous nature of most neighbourhoods is often slightly depressing (read: any given city block is as follows – Baskins Robbins, an Olleh phone store, Starbucks, a KT phone store, Caffe Bene, a second Olleh phone store, Dunkin Donuts, a third OIleh phone store, and so on…).

Thankfully, the hills of Saha-gu offer a perfectly vibrant outlet for those pining for an escape from the urban solitude of Busan: the Gamcheon Culture Village. Gamcheon, affectionally dubbed “Lego Village”, takes the mantra of Pocahontas (“paint with all the colours of the wind”) to new heights, as the majority of its 10,000 residents live in pink and blue and yellow and green pastel-hued homes.

Allow me to rattle off, at an auctioneers pace, the history, and establishment of Gamcheon: during the 1950s, refugees flocked to Busan in the wake of the Korean War, and established a shanty town of sorts, that over the next two decades was transformed into the village of block-style houses that remain today. The rest of Busan industrialized and modernized at a rapid fire pace while Gamcheon remained “old school” and relatively poor in comparison. Just over five years ago, the Ministry of Culture, Sports, and Tourism hired artists to work with Gamcheon’s residents to create and install murals reflective of the “Taeguk” (yin and yang symbol) throughout the village, and thus, the Gamcheon Culture Village known today was born. [Note: For deeper insights about the history of Gamcheon, follow the jump to this fantastic article on Busan Haps, written by Jessica Steele.]

After seeing pictures of the village from early December when Maddie, Jess, and our friend Marta visited, I knew a visit to Gamcheon was imminent. Six weeks later, on a gloomy Saturday afternoon, I, along with fellow wanderluster and close friend, Mary, journeyed by subway and taxi to the culture village in the hopes that the bright village would serve as a distraction from the gray January skies.

Immediately upon arrival, Mary and I began derping around the village, leaving written messages wholly indicative of our respective personal brands on the walls of the village photo gallery, performing headstands and wheels on the observation deck’s soaking wet AstroTurf, and purposefully avoiding the numerous paved footpaths in favour of bounding down the treacherous and hilly grasslands of Gamcheon. Our egos swelled at the applause we received for our yoga poses from other tourists and our sides ached from giggling as we gracelessly descended Gamcheon’s hills.

Like most of South Korea, Gamcheon is brimming with bizarre idiosyncrasies. In one instance, I happened to peer into the open door of a bungalow whilst walking down a deserted alley, and I kid you not, there was a young Korean woman immobile on the floor, encased in Saran Wrap. Like, the kind that your mom would wrap your elementary school baloney sandwiches in. Given that Mary and I are both tall individuals with long legs, I thought that maybe my eyes had played a simple trick on me as a result of my brisk stride. Mary turned back to verify my claim and the look of shock and slight horror on her face confirmed that there was indeed a poor young woman likely waiting to be devoured like a bulgogi* sandwich. In another instance, we climbed a flight of stairs that had been painted to resemble an ascending library, each step representing a literary classic. One step was particularly larf-worthy, emblazoned with the classic Konglish phrase “YOU NEED DIET”. Korea, you’re strange but I really do (mostly) love it.

The beauty of Gamcheon is that you’re basically a lab rat, running through a never-ending maze THAT YOU CAN’T LOSE AT. Detoured off the main road to venture down a twisty alley that caught your eye? That’s cool, if you go down those three staircases there, take 6 lefts, and walk backwards with your eyes closed, you will literally end up back where you started. Mary and I wandered aimlessly for about 20 minutes, somehow stumbled upon the village’s main entrance, and then pretended like the nonsensical path we chose had been our planned route all along. Foolproof.

My advice to prospective visitors varies based on personality. For the flexible, “go with the flow” types, let the colours of Gamcheon speak to inner spirit, as you float through the narrow alleys. The element of surprise upon accidentally stumbling across the various art installations is a treat in itself. For the more structured, “type A” tourist, I would recommend some pre-departure research and an investment in a village map detailing the locations of each respective village landmarks. [Note: These maps are sold at the tourist information centre and retail for 2,000 won.]

Quietly quirky, the Gamcheon Culture Village is a nice reminder that it’s always best to march to the beat of your own janggu**.

Directions
To get to the Gamcheon Culture Village, take the Red Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Toseong Station (stop 109). Take exit 8, walking straight until you reach the bus stop at the PNU Cancer Center. Take mini-bus 2 or 2-2 for approximately 10 minutes until you reach the stop at Gamcheon Elementary School. [Note: A cab from Nampo Station (Red Line, stop 111) costs about 4,000 won.]

* I’ve got to keep my examples Korea specific, okay?

** A janggu is a traditional Korean drum. Korea specific, right?

Gamcheon warrior

Happy, bucket listing derps

A staircase for all the bookworms out there

Letting these colourful fishies act as our spirit guides

Blessed Gamcheon at dusk

A sample of the featured art in Gamcheon

A(nother) beautiful Busan temple