Showing posts with label Linda. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Linda. Show all posts

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Jeju in a day and a half

Jeju Air ad campaign: "Look! Whiteys fly us too!"

This summer in Korea has been, not to put too fine a point on it, shit. The two week spring rainy season that usually marks the beginning of summer came, and was still going three months later. It rained almost constantly, with tragic consequences for some of the country. On my side of the country it didn’t rain quite so hard, but it did rain persistently, destroying many of the local farm crops and much more importantly (ok, not really) my football season.

Korea is a very outdoorsy country. The fact that it’s almost entirely mountainous and a small country surrounded by the sea on three-sides means that a lot of the summer is spent hiking, going to the beach and picnicking. This means that if it rains all summer, life gets very boring. After finally getting a weekend of some promise a couple of weeks ago, the forecast returned to rainy. A certain someone declared that if she spent another weekend in the rain, she was going to go “literally insane”. As Mr. Rochester well knew, it’s not becoming of an Englishman to have a mental significant other and as my apartment has no attic space, drastic action became necessary.

Jeju is often called “the Hawaii of Korea”, mostly due to the fact that it’s an enormous volcano and the weather’s hot. Not surprisingly it makes for a popular holiday destination for Koreans and foreigners alike. It also happened to be the only place blinking out from underneath a swathe of cloud over Korea on the weather forecast. A look at the Jeju air website (Korea’s answer to Easyjet, right down to the colour scheme) showed two tickets left for the weekend, which we decided to snap up. A note to Korean residents, it’s well worth checking out Jeju Air; even last minute tickets were about KRW90,000 all-in (one way) and if you’re flexible with your times you can get about a third off that. It felt a little louche flying somewhere for just one night, as well as wracking me with guilt about my carbon footprint having got back from Bangkok just a week ago, but I also really wanted to see Jeju.

Flying domestic in Korea was a beautiful experience. Even arriving an hour before take-off, we had plenty of time for a coffee and a snack, and I think realistically we could have got from check-in to seated on the plane in about 15 minutes if we had wanted. I’m trying to figure out how I can fly domestic back to England next time I want to come home. We pitched up in Jeju with the noble intention of climbing Halla-san, at 1950m Korea’s highest peak, but the combination of it being stinking hot even at 8am, a blackberry wine nightcap the previous evening and feeling lazy led to us taking a two hour nap at the hotel instead.

A hastily put together new plan saw us heading out to explore the north-east coast of Jeju. First stop was Gin-nyeom beach, one of what I imagine is one of Jeju’s less famous beaches, owing to its small size, preponderance of rocks and over-craning wind turbines. I thought all of that made it more charming actually, and definitely less crowded. When we got bored of paddling there were rock-pools containing hermit crabs, shrimp and small fish to explore.

Linda "wading".

Sunshine home day out.

Looking for crabs (snicker)

The wind turbines

After that it was a short taxi-ride to Mangjanggeul – apparently the world’s largest lava tube, where once molten rock from the volcano cone burrowed its way through the island to the sea. In all honesty, you should prepare yourself for a fairly cold, damp walk with only a couple of interesting rock formations to maintain interest. It is just about worth it for the petrified lava flow at the end though, which descends from the ceiling a bit like an elephant’s leg (and by extension, I reckon, like a doner kebab stick).

Just down the road from the lava tube is a rather wonderful maze park, though curiously you are given a map of the maze so you can figure out the route, which seems a bit self-defeating to me. Perhaps Koreans don’t like getting lost (the preponderance of sat-navs in this country would seem to bear this out too). Anyway, apparently about 10% of people complete the maze in 5 minutes. I’m guessing that’s with the map; it took us nearer half an hour, and that was with following a couple with a map who rushed past us at a key decision point. Still, the maze is great fun and a very entertaining diversion for a few minutes.


"I'll descend into your lava tube"

Thanks Japanese man who took our photo. Thanks for NOTHING!

The big spinning stick?

Asian maiden

The sign says "No kissing" - any excuse for a snog.


Finishee!


The maze from above.

After that we headed back to Jeju City to what was undoubtedly the highlight of the weekend – Loveland. Describing this is tricky. You’d have to describe it as an erotic sculpture park I think, but that gets nowhere near to capturing quite how much sheer fun you have there. Everything there seems to be about sex, from the giant penis and labia that form the centre-piece (lol) of the park, to the cute mating pigs which ornament the ponds. It’s not so much the statues though, as the wandering around in the dark with a bunch of half-drunk Koreans giggling at things. At one stage I joined the back of a three man queue to simulate sex with a statue. One man's heavily pregnant wife took the photo; I couldn’t really tell whether she was having a good time or not, nor strangely, whether he was. It’s a weird place, Loveland, never more so than when we get the sex-gift-shop sales pitch: “This is bestseller!” shrieks a lady at us holding a fiercely vibrating pair of beads. We blush, and leave hurriedly. Where on earth did Korea’s repressed sexuality disappear to all of a sudden? Anyway, we leave the park still giggling – Loveland comes highly recommended.


Enter!

"Wait your turn son."

Boob grab

I thought we were on Jeju, not lesbos.

Something about Linda mounting a massive cock.

"..."

Linda enjoying herself

Then it’s back into town for a pint of Jeju’s own micro-brewed ale from the Modern Time brewery. Disappointingly, anything that looks interesting on the list of beers is unavailable, so we go for a pint of stout and a pint of the regular, neither of which were anything special, sadly. I’m still waiting to have a really good pint on the peninsula, though Alley Kat deserves an honourable mention. We also end up trying a bottle of Hallsan Soju, the taste of which now makes me feel like a bit of a wuss when I drink Chamiseul.

In the morning we actually manage to get up in time for breakfast at the hotel, and then head off for the beach. A bit of a false start at I-ho beach (not that nice, but good for plane spotters) we end up at Hallim beach, which turns out to be a great tip from our taxi driver, and as you can see from the photos, is stunning. We spend the morning swimming and relaxing under a parasol (I’m going to change my last name to Kim pretty soon, but at least I avoided nuclear sunburn this time) and generally having a great time.


Well Korean

The beachee

The banana boat stand wasn't doing so well

So yeah, turns out you can do Jeju in just one night, and it’s very worth it. Only problem is, you really want to go back…

A

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Ice Fishing...

..at night. OK, maybe not, but it did remind me of this, from John Paul Jones' album The Thunderthief. The piano's nice, but the lyrics are truly awful. Sadly, this isn't even the worst offender on the album.



Moving on, we come to one of the things that defines my little town, the trout festival. I live in a town of around 10,000 people, but one that for two months in January and February attracts visitors from across Korea. The county of Pyeongchang is one of the only places where trout has been successfully farmed within Korea, and so to publicise this, they dam the river, wait for it to freeze over and then dump a whole load of trout in for the public to fish for.

The festival really transforms the lower part of town. A whole complex of buildings gets put up (seemingly just after they were finally taken down after last year's festival) and earth movers work for several months to completely block off the river, save for a small channel running down the side. Then everyone sits and waits for it to get freezing cold, the ice forms and everyone gets their festival on.

The main festival activity is of course, the ice fishing itself. Hundreds of holes are drilled in the ice, and individuals and families come to try their luck, either with their own equipment or the plastic sticks with a metal fish as a lure that are sold at the festival. I felt like the trout may have got wise to this by the time we started fishing, as they'd been swimming through a forest of jiggling golden lures for several weeks beforehand. While we did see some people get lucky, Linda and I's only fishing success was the ice that formed on our line.

Fisherman at work.

The equipment.

The lure. Good for luring, well, nothing.

Popular game, catching ice.

There's only so long you can stand on a freezing river in -20C weather with a very slim chance of catching anything. What the sensible festival goer does is head over to the side-event, the bare handed trout catching, instead. This takes place in a pool away from the river, which is kept slightly warmer (it's water, not ice, but barely). With around 30 others, I head into a warm changing room and change into fetching orange trousers, a grey T-shirt and rubber shoes. We then surround a pool, do some shouting in Korean (I'm not sure what I'm saying yes to here) and then, to the considerable annoyance of 100 or so trout, we leap into the water and try to pull them out with our hands.

Trout catching proves to be fiendishly difficult. The idea is to drive them to the edges and then flip them out on to the edge, where you can stuff your trout in a plastic bag to be carried away later. The trouble is, as soon as you locate one it's slipped through your grasp, and your legs, and headed back to the middle of the pool. The water is so cold it soon becomes painful to put my hands in, and I wonder whether I'll suffer the ignominy of failing to catch a single fish. Then, a gift. Like a big cat spotting one labouring wildebeest, I spot an easy target. One trout is trying to hide itself between two rocks at the edge of the pool, little realising that it's entire rear half is sticking out. Quick as a flash, I reach down, grasp it firmly and lift it out onto the side, to cheers from the crowd. I'm excited as I stuff it into my bag and leap back into the water. My enthusiasm is to no avail though, as the trout continue to evade me. When it's just me and some kids splashing in the pool, I accept defeat and head back to the warmth of the changing room, clutching Barry, my trout.


The pool.

The contestants.

"3...2...1..."

Missed.

"Bloody hell this is cold."

"There was one here a minute ago I swear."

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees!"

"No."

The Korean's being a friendly people, my lack of fish is noted and an old man is dispatched to the pool to catch me another one. This is, of course, hideously embarrassing but it does give Linda and I the chance to try two different ways of eating trout. My gift trout is given to an old lady in one tent, and in a matter of seconds it's delicious pieces of sashimi. It's tender and delicious, especially dipped in a little hot sauce. Having eaten half of that, we then headed to the grill tent, where Barry is taken from me, wrapped in foil and plopped on the grill. It's not long before we're tucking in to an even more delicious trout, grilled to perfection, moist and succulent with the subtle flavour nicely preserved. The fact that it was my catch made it all the more tasty.
Where I failed, the old man with waders and a net succeeded.

On the cutting table.

Vicious.

Sashimi.

Barry and I.

Barry and I again.

Barry, you were too dumb to live, but you didn't die in vain.

OK, maybe feeling a little guilty now.

And with that, it was time to get out of the stinking cold, and head home for a hot chocolate. I'm spending the summer working on my trout grabbing technique.

A



Saturday, February 26, 2011

I'm back

Finally, a post! Christmas break rather messed up my schedule, and knocked me out of my regular blogging routine. This is not to say I didn't have time, I did in fact have more time than usual, but never quite the time to post.

Anyhow, I've now been back in Jinbu for two days, which has been my first chance to pause and catch my breath for some time. Since my last post I've been through Christmas, New Year, three weeks of English Camp and then four weeks in the UK. It seems like a lot, and it was. It's been nice to get back to some stunning, and relatively warm weather, given that when I left the thermometer was holding steady around the -10C mark. This winter was by all accounts exceptionally cold. Too cold sadly for my boiler, which froze up during my absence and spat water all over the floor. Fortunately it's back in some kind of working order, though nowhere near what it used to be. What wasn't good was getting back feeling terrible, and having to retreat to bed for a while. I'm not sure whether it was readjusting to Korean germs, or the collected effects of jetlag and hangover, but whatever it was I didn't feel particularly well. I'm almost back to top form now though. Here's a nice shot of round where I live, seeing this always makes me feel better.

I'm going to try to put up a few posts over the next few days covering my period of absence. In truth they'll probably be photo heavy and text light, but that's probably no bad thing.

I'll start with Christmas. It's not quite the same festival in Korea as it is in the Western world, with just a single holiday falling on the day itself, and even on the 25th a lot of shops seemed to be open anyway. It certainly wasn't much of a holiday "season" as it is in the UK; in fact I had probably my busiest week of the year starting the 27th December. All in all it didn't feel much like Christmas at all.

Linda's birthday falls on Christmas Eve, so we went out until very late and didn't get up until about midday on the 25th. We popped out for a wander around Incheon's Chinatown, and then (having failed to secure a traditional Christmas dinner) attempted to take down an entire duck between two of us. This noble mission was sadly halted when we realised we could get a doggy bag. We did manage about 2/3 of it though, and it was delicious. For those that don't know about Korean duck, it comes part garlic steamed and then you finish it off over hot charcoals in front of you at your table. Then you wrap it in a lettuce leaf with some bean paste, garlic and pickled onions, and eat. Delicious.

After that it was back home for a Skype call with my family (this is the first Christmas I've not been at home) and then bed. Perhaps not a normal Christmas, but a good one all the same.


Linda's colleague Cindy and her husband, whose name escapes me.
Birthday breakfast (well, lunch by the time we got up)

Incheon Chinatown's Mural Street

Me and Incheon

Not sure what this was.

Nor this. I realise that this is not the finest captioning ever.

Cabbage art.

Cool, isn't it?

Douglas MacArthur, whose daring landing at Incheon changed the direction of the Korean War, and thus nearly 60 years later the direction of my career. Cheers Doug.

Confucius. And you wonder why he preached respect for the elderly.

Duckfest: Two people and one duck will enter. Two will emerge feeling bloated, one will emerge in a doggy bag. BUT WHO WILL IT BE?

Grillin'

New Year here is similarly low key, partly because Korea has two calendars and so has two New Years celebrations, with the lunar calendar festival (the Chinese New Year) being the bigger deal. Still, this doesn't stop thousands of Korean's heading to the East coast to catch the first glimpse of the sun on New Year's day, usually after drinking heavily on the beach all night.

We decided that we'd go and try to do similar, braving some freezing temperatures to get to Jeongdongjin, where we'd also been in the summer. The key attraction was the turning of the giant hourglass on the beach there. We were told that the festival was cancelled, but headed down nonetheless. When we got there we saw a suspiciously large amount of sand left in the glass, and having stood for a while in the crowd, realised it was already two minutes past twelve. Happy New Year.

Still, we got some sparklers, and then retired to the warmth of a chicken restaurant. Neither of us fancied staying up all night on a freezing beach in the end, so we caught a taxi back to Gangneung just as everyone seemed to be flooding in to Jeongdongjin. A bit of an anticlimax, but we did get free doughnuts and persimmon from our taxi driver.

All aboard... the night train!



The hourglass.



Jeongdongjin by night.

Annoyed by the hourglass not turning, Alex decided to effect a terrorist attack on it instead.


I'll try to post some more winter activities over the next few days before school starts again. Until then...

A