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.

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.

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.

Busan Museum of Art

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

Photos by Jess Sternberg (go check her Instagram out here) and the Korean Tourism Organization.

Blogging about the Busan Museum of Art is a stark reminder about how put together I was not upon arrival in Korea. I visited the museum during the second weekend of September – a whole eight and a half months ago! Oy vey. Blame the late blog post on a totally “blissed out, lazy, end of summer 2013” Dylan.

I’m usually pretty ambivalent about museums on the whole. During my summer 2010 trip to Europe, I spent four hours at the Jüdisches Museum in Berlin. It was a thoroughly curated museum, with an excellent exhibit on Jews in comic books. However, I was so overloaded with information that upon departure from Berlin, everything had left my brain. I was not a sponge that summer for anything except World Cup soccer and beer.

This time around, during my year in Busan, I was excited to take in some Eastern-inspired works of art. Given that the Busan Museum of Art is the penultimate subway stop on my journey to work everyday, I figured this would be a good place to start. In addition, Jess and Maddie had their lovely friends Maritza and Steph visiting, and it seemed like a positively cultured way to introduce the girls to the city.

The Busan Museum of Art had some pretty excellent elements. First of all, it was free entrance (great news for the frugal). The complex itself is large, modern, and well-maintained (as it should be – it was only opened in 1998). The museum has five exhibition halls with hardwood floors throughout, along with archives and interactive learning rooms. The exhibits didn’t feel too overwhelming – the average person (read: me) could enter any given section and feel comfortable identifying general themes and representations.

When the girls and I visited, the main exhibit was titled The Art of Prayers, featuring pieces of art donated by the Korean-Japanese artist Ha Jung-Woong. The exhibit consisted of  three different sections: Prayers, Evidence, and Happiness. Each section hoped to represent regret and despair, record “art as historic evidence”, and show “art which provides happiness”, respectively. The section I remember the best was Prayers, which featured a series of woodcuts titled “The Story of Hanaoka”. These vivid reenactments of the uprisings and massacres at the Hanaoka mine in 1945 were particularly realistic and brutal, as well as an exercise in gratitude on my part.

In addition, there were two exhibits by Kim Bong Tae (titled “Accumulation”) and Shin Sang Ho (tilted “Final Frontier”). The Kim Bong Tae exhibit was almost Warholian, but in a totally nondescript way (read: stacked, differently coloured boxes). The Shin Sang Ho exhibit was slightly more interesting, with bright, ceramic sculptures and airplanes inspired by “the unknown world depicted by Star Trek screenwriter Eugene Roddenberry”.

The exhibit we enjoyed the most was the one designed for children (obviously). We entered a dark room, and were immediately delighted when a series of colourful projections began parading about the walls. An older Korean man approached us afterwards to inform us that his young daughter had drawn the pictures and he had turned them into projections. This room of projections was easily the best part of the museum. We joked about the room just needing some EDM to make it a real party.

My trip to the Busan Museum of Art was perhaps more of an exercise in taking derpy photos with my friends than a truly cultural experience. That said, I feel like I did gain some real exposure to different forms of Korean art during my two hour visit to the museum, which was my original goal anyway. You don’t have to remember it all, you just have to appreciate it all.

Directions
To get to the Busan Museum of Art, take the Green Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to the Busan Museum of Art Station (stop 205). Go out exit 5 and walk straight for about two minutes. The museum will be right in front of you.

Beomeosa Temple

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

Photos by Stephanie Pellett. Check out her personal blog here, her Flickr account here, and her Instagram here for more beautiful photography.

“There is a well on the top of Mt. Geumjeongsan and the water of that well is gold. The golden fish in the well rode the colourful clouds and came down from the sky. This is why the mountain is named Geumsaem (gold well) and the temple is name ‘fish from heaven’.”

This summary of the origins of Beomeosa Temple’s etymology is from the Donggukyeojiseungram, a Korean geography book. Nestled up in the mountains, Beomeosa, like all good temples is remote, offering a peaceful, cultural day trip for tourists (like me!)

Admittedly, I had been informed that Beomeosa Temple was “pretty, but nothing special” from a few people. Regardless, I was eager to visit and form my own opinions about “the temple where the Nirvana fish play”.

I visited Beomeosa on a day when spring was positively springing with Steph, my co-worker Robert, and his fiancé Anna. As soon as we stepped upon the temple grounds, I could feel how hallowed and sacred they were. We followed a row of wisteria trees up to the main compound, which houses a three-story pagoda, multiples shrines, and approximately a dozen hermitages, presumably for the fighting monks who called Beomeosa home. I’m always amazed at the intricacies and attention to detail when studying the colourful shrines and gates at Korean temples. I found it inspiring. Like, if someone could spend all that time designing something so beautiful, then I can at least floss every day or blog three times a week, right?

Beomeosa, itself, was lost twice; first, in the 16th century at the hands of the pyro-happy Japanese invaders, and second, a mere decade later in an accidental fire. It was rebuilt in the 17th century. These days, however, it is still undergoing a “temple facelift”. There was, in fact, ongoing construction on a couple of the hermitages and halls while we were visiting. Whoever said cosmetic surgery in Korea is just for people was dead wrong.

Oddly enough, my favourite part of my time at Beomeosa was spent in a rather unique rock field, with a quiet stream running through it. Steph, Robert, Anna, and I sat for a while in a circle on the rocks, and even took a few moments to dip our hands and feet into the chilly water. I’m hoping to visit Beomeosa again so I can follow this path of rocks up to the North Gate of the Geumjeongsanseong Fortress, because I’m all about that hiking sweat life on summer days.

In addition, the four of us visited the Seongdo Museum, located on the temple grounds. There were a variety of Buddhist antiquities, including a Lego construction of the “Nirvana Fish”, where Beomeosa derives its name from. Bizarrely, this Lego “masterpiece” seemed to be a bigger deal than the relics that were hundreds of centuries old. Just nod and smile, y’all.

Beomeosa is one of the most important temples in all of Korea, and receives extra credit for its “Temple Stay” program. While I found the Haedong Yonggungsa Water Temple more visually pleasing, the tranquility of Beomeosa Temple was a welcomed sort of beauty. My recommendation? Visit Beomeosa on a sunny day, walk the grounds, have a picnic on the rocks, and continue up Mount Geumjeongsan. Then you’ll really be about that sweat life.

Directions
To get to Beomeosa Temple, take the Orange Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Beomeosa Station (stop 133). Take exit 5 or 7 and turn up the road between the exits. After 5 minutes, you will reach the Samsin bus stop. Bus Take bus #90, and get out at the Beomeosa Temple stop (approximately 15 minutes).  Alternatively, a taxi costs approximately ₩6,000.

Samgwangsa Temple

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

Let’s jump right into things, folks: Samgwangsa Temple on Buddha’s Birthday was easily one of the most stunning place I’ve been to this past year in Korea. It will undoubtedly top my pending “Korean Bucket List Roundup” in three months time, and frankly, I find it odd that it’s not more widely publicized as a “must see in Busan” (besides on CNN’s “50 beautiful places to visit in Korea” list).

When you Google Samgwangsa (or Samkwang) Temple, there’s comparatively less information about it than say, the Haedong Yonggungsa Water Temple. This is pretty surprising, but I suppose it makes sense – one of the temple’s main draws is that it holds Busan’s largest Lotus Lantern Festival once a year in the weeks leading up to and following Buddha’s Birthday. That said, the temple grounds themselves are quite ostentatious and commanding, rivalled by perhaps only the water temple, mentioned above.

Given that Buddha’s Birthday is a nationally recognized public holiday in Korea (like Children’s Day before it), I took opportunity of my day off to visit Samgwangsa Temple with Steph, Mary, and Nina, as well as some new friends, including my lovely new co-teacher Brandi.

We arrived at Seomyeon Station shortly after 5:30PM to ensure we would catch the setting sun, only to chase our tails for 20 minutes in search of the bus that would actually carry us to the temple. Eventually, we opted for a cab.

The neighbourhood housing Samgwangsa is not what I expected. The temple grounds are located pretty centrally in Seomyeon, while most other temples I’ve visited (Beomeosa and Seokbulsa, namely) have been quite remote. There were convenience stores and coffee shops lining the street running adjacent to the temple, allowing anxieties of  “oh no, our cab driver doesn’t know where he is going” to take root. Once we began to see a string of vividly coloured lanterns, I knew we were in the right place.

A slight incline coupled with some dancing ajummas in the street later and we had reached the mainstay of the temple, which is frankly too absurd to even try to explain (allow me to try anyway). There were lanterns of every colour, shape, and size everywhere, hung with care by the Buddhist monks of Samgwangsa. There were wafting aromas from the stalls manned by ajummas selling delicious street foods. There were two glowing dragons at the temple’s apex, rearing their heads upwards to the sky in unison. Once the sun set, they began emitting billowing smoke and blowing fire from their mouths. All around us, families, individuals, the young, the old, all marvelled at the unreal sights that Samgwangsa was offering in bulk. This place was seriously like the Costco of temples.

After walking through the temple grounds, we returned its centre to watch the lanterns light up. I didn’t think the surroundings could be any more beautiful, but was discredited once the sun disappeared, as I have been so often before in this beautiful country. Ultimately, any attempt at describing Samgwangsa will do an incredible injustice, so just continue scrolling for the photos.

Samgwangsa Temple, as its etymology designates, provides “three rays of light” – a verdant setting in an albeit urban yet serene setting, towering shrines and pagodas, and a quiet reputation of splendour amongst foreigners. If you’re lucky enough to visit this hidden gem during Buddha’s Birthday, take it in and feel fortunate you did.

To get to Samgwangsa Temple, take the Green Line on the Busan Subway (Line 2) to Seomyeon Station (stop 219). Go out exit 13, and take bus number 81 or 122 towards Samgwangsa Temple. Get out at the Songyeong Apt. stop. The temple will be approximately five minutes from the bus stop. Additionally, a cab from Seomyeon Station cost ₩5,000. Entrance to the temple is free.

The Busan Aquarium

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

Sometimes, I really, really love my school.

Like, when they cancel a field trip to a boring old arboretum to take the kiddies to the Busan Aquarium instead! This was good news for me because not only did I get to spend my day derping around with my seriously adorable homeroom class, but I also got to check another box off on the old Korean Bucket List. And for free! I’m trying to live relatively frugally these days, and frankly the ₩21,000 entrance fee to the Aquarium could be used to fill my gullet full of curry at Namaste. So, yay for an all-expense paid Brown & LCI field trip day!

I think if I had gone by myself to the Busan Aquarium, I literally would have been in and out in about 25 minutes, tops. But going with my kindergarten students was such a special treat. Their eyes were filled with a mixture of wonder and confusion, as the gaped at over 35,000 species of fish (or so the brochure told us). They may as well have been tugging at my heartstrings while tugging on my jacket, crying out “teacher!” as a penguin would dive into the tank and swim on by. Forget the fish, the looks of amazement on my kiddies faces were the real sight.

The Aquarium itself has three underground levels. We ended up visiting both exhibition floors, where we watched fish of the freaky and non-freaky variety, somersaulting finless porpoises, and penguins gliding majestically through the water. We walked through the glass-walled, seabed tunnel which felt just like walking on the ocean floor, as sea-life swam all around us. We also caught feeding time for the otters, and the kiddies had an opportunity to hold a starfish and other echinoderms. Tactile learning, y’all!

Afterwards, we were all ushered into the auditorium for the “Music Talking Show with Diver”. The entire thing was in Korean, so I’m not exactly sure what was happening. There was basically an enthusiastic lady onstage, furiously jabbering away at a diver equipped with a microphone in the tank. This was followed by some singing, a volunteer from the audience experiencing the gift of magic, and my own dripping sweat from sitting in a balmy room with three Korean children on my lap.

I was a little disappointed that my school didn’t splurge on the Glass Bottom Boat Experience, where one can float around a tank filled with sharks and other fishies, but I guess you can’t have it all.

Our school ended up eating lunch in the Aquarium’s cafeteria, where my kids stuffed raspberries and cookies into my mouth. Lunch time is one of the best parts of a field trip, because the parents always pack more food for their kids to share with us teachers. I get to bond with the kids and I get to eat their food. It’s a win-win, truly.

When lunch was over, we escorted the kids down to Haeundae Beach for about 30 minutes to derp around in the sand, before heading back to school.

As I mentioned above, I’m not sure how much I would have enjoyed the Busan Aquarium without the “oohs” and “ahhs” of my 30 Korean kindergarten students, but it’s a pretty chill to spend an hour exploring. If you’re down at Haeundae Beach and are looking for something to do, the Aquarium might be the sound of settling, but at least it’s a pretty splashing sound.

Directions
To get to the Busan Aquarium, take the Green Line on the Busan Subway (Line 2) to Haeundae Station (stop 203). Go straight out exit 3 or 5, and proceed straight for about 5 minutes until you reach the road running parallel to the beach. Turn right, and the Aquarium will be right in front of you. Entrance to the Busan Aquarium is ₩21,000 for persons 13 and over, and ₩15,000 for persons under the age of 13.

Energy Core Noraebang

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

I get a lot of questions from people back home about life in Korea. The most common questions are usually “How are your kiddies?”, “Do you travel around the country much?”, and “Are you having trouble with the language?”. Another one, strangely, makes the cut, too: “Do you go to karaoke bars, like, all the time?”

The answer to that question as of a month ago, friends of the interwebz, is no. No, I do not, and it is shameful. A whole eight months had elapsed in Busan without belting out my favourite pop songs in a smelly, dank room with my friends. Luckily, I did know about the best karaoke room (or “noraebang”, as they are Koreans know them) in the city from Jess and Maddie. Why is it the best, you ask? Likely because its interior looks exactly like a spaceship. Yup, this is why I love Korea.

While we had hatched a plan to visit this noraebang before the girls left, it sadly never came to fruition due to time constraints. Thankfully, I have some amazing 3G (giving, good, and game) friends still kicking around Korea who love to sing and find my tone-deaf singing voice endearing.

Mary, Steph, Nina, Katie, and I visited the spaceship noraebang, called Energy Core, in early April. Energy Core was our first stop in KSU that evening, and the excitement was palpable. As we descended the stairs into the noraebang, we saw that Jess and Maddie were proven right. Energy Core had all the blinking lights, metallic gray walls, and leafy plants we could have ever wanted from a spaceship-themed karaoke place. We were very impressed with our service and our spacious room, with its sprawling red couch and polka-dotted pillows. There is truly nothing better than having expectations of dank smelliness and instead being treated like a space prince!

The song selection at Energy Core was absurd. I’ve heard tell that many noraebangs in Busan (and Korea generally) usually lack adequate songs for Westerners to sing, but this was not the case here. Energy Core’s songbook catered to American Top 40, K-Pop, J-Pop, and classic songs dating back to the 1970s (and perhaps beyond – I didn’t really study it that closely).

The five of us sang a variety of #relevant tunes including “Escape” by Enrique Iglesias, “Best Song Ever” by One Direction, “Red” and “22” by Taylor Swift, and “Timber” by Pitbull ft. Ke$ha. In addition, since we’re all living in Korea, we felt we would be totally remiss if a rendition of “Let It Go“, from the Frozen OSD, didn’t happen. The video recordings of these sing-a-longs will never see the light of day, I promise you that.

We closed out our hour at Energy Core with the rather nostalgic “Semi-Charmed Life” by Third Eye Blind (a total throwback to summer 2012). As the music stopped and the lights went up in our room, I couldn’t help but think how absolutely charmed life in Korea is these days.

Overall, Energy Core’s decor, songbook, and price are out of this world, so blast off into an hour or two of pure ecstasy with Energy Core today! (LOL space puns).

Directions
To get to the Energy Core Noraebang, take the Green Line on the Busan Subway (Line 2) to Kyungsung University/Pukyong National University Station (stop 212). Go out exit 5 and proceed straight. Once you reach the Outback Steakhouse, turn left and continue straight for two blocks. Turn right and the noraebang will be on your left. Take the stairs down to B2, and you’re at Energy Core! Entrance is ₩16,000 for one hour.

Igidae Park

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

I was enlightened about the wonders of the Igidae Park coastal walk after a conversation with one of my former Korean co-teachers.

“Jenny Teacher, remember when we were crossing the Gwangalli Bridge for the field trip? What was that giant green building on the left side of the bridge called The View? It look so interesting.”

“Ah, yes – that is the Igidae Park area. It is very popular amongst Busan locals for its hiking and views of the city. My husband and I go all the time, it’s very beautiful.”

My interest about Igidae Park was officially piqued after this conversation, especially as I had already had an amazing time on a coastal walk near Songdo Beach with Mary and Steph.

After exploring and lunching in the nearby Daeyeon area, we grabbed a (series of) cab(s) to the park. I say “series of” because each and every cab driver we said “Igidae Park-uh” to offered a perplexed look in response. Eventually, we came across a driver who knew the way, but heed my advice: it will be in your interest to know how to instruct your cab driver to Igidae in Korean or to have a photo readily available. It will save yourself some time in the relatively cab-less Namcheon area.

The etymology of the park’s name comes from an absolutely insane story of revenge, involving Japanese lords during Japan’s occupation of Busan, Korean comfort women (known as “Gisaengs”), and the surrounding cliffs of Igidae. Disgusted at the thought of being concubines to the Japanese imperialists, two of the Gisaengs grabbed one of the inebriated officers and threw themselves below. Perhaps you can discern from the photos below, but just in case you can’t, THE AREA IS ABSURDLY ROCKY AND THEY DIED (assuming the legend is true). This legend is simultaneously empowering and points out exactly how damaging nationalism can be to one’s psyche.

Igidae Park boasts a 5.2 kilometer hiking trail around the perimeter of Jangsanbong Mountain, adjacent to Gwangalli Beach. The entire hike around the seawall can take anywhere from 2 to 2 1/2 hours, and offers beautiful views of Busan’s cityscape. While we didn’t make it around the entire coast, (read: we were lazy and kept getting distracted by taking the “perfect yoga photo” – derp), we easily could have since the terrain itself was fairly undemanding.

The girls and I ended our day at Igidae Park with a heart-to-heart on the coast. The atmosphere of the park was so serene and I felt a renewed sense of vitality watching the sun go down with my people.

Much like the Songdo Coastal Walk, Igidae Park is off of most foreigner’s radars, and yet takes advantage of Busan’s most appealing features – its coastline, mountain ranges, and towering skyscrapers. Spread news of Igidae Park widely, because as you know, secrets don’t make friends.

Directions
To get to Igidae Park, take the Green Line on the Busan Subway (Line 2) to Namcheon Station (stop 211). Go straight out exit 3 and proceed down Suyeong-ro for about 3 minutes. Take the first left and continue walking, past the Metro grocery store and under the overpass. Eventually, you will  see an ostentatious building called “The View”. Take the stairs up on the left side to reach the park. The walk to Igidae takes about 20 minutes. Additionally, a cab from Namcheon Station costs approximately ₩4,500, depending on traffic. Entrance to the park is free.