Blog 10: The slow boat to China

We boarded the 17-hour international ferry from South Korea to China at the port city of Incheon, about an hour by subway from the center of Seoul.
Arriving at the international ferry terminal, we first noticed that there was not a single other “gaijin” in the terminal – we were the only westerners taking the boat to China. The second thing of note was that 90% of the other travelers were dressed in identical red vests and hats – the ferry was filled with hundreds of group tour visitors from China heading back home.

When we bought our tickets, all the cheap spots were full, so for an extra $20 we booked a twin room, instead of the usual 6 or 8 (or 30!) beds to a room. Turns out that that upgraded us to “royal” class – we had a stately private room with mini-fridge, tv, and our own bathroom with both a shower and tub (we hadn't had access to a bathtub since leaving home!).
The ferry itself was impressive – Colin's first reaction upon boarding was that he felt like he was on board the Titanic (in a good way, though I didn't quite appreciate the comparison).
It was smooth sailing all the way to China...





Arriving at the port in Qingdao, things were a little different. We were immediately assaulted by yellowish, stinky smog that made Colin's eyes sting and our stomachs a bit nauseous. We looked for the currency exchange to change our remaining Korean money to Chinese Yuan, but there was none – in an international terminal – hmmm. We fared no better at the bank down the street – we were told that only the Bank of China could change Korean currency. I did have some Yuan that I had bought in the U.S. before leaving, so we took a taxi to our hostel and figured we'd work out the currency exchange later. In our efforts to change money at the bank, though, we hadn't let on that we had any Yuan, so thinking us destitute, the bank manager insisted on giving us bus fare to get to the nearest Bank of China. I didn't have the heart, or the language skills, to correct her, so off we went with an additional 2 yuan (about .30 cents) in our pocket...

The taxi deposited us at the base of the park where we had been told our hostel was located. I was able to see a sign pointing us to the hostel, so we unloaded our bags from the trunk, sent the taxi away, and started up the stone steps ascending the hill. As soon as we started climbing, people started blocking our path and pointing us back down. They clearly wanted us to go another way, but we only had the posted signs to guide us to where we needed to go, and we were going to follow them, damn it, no matter what! As we got higher, the steps soon ended in a pile of rubble, and a half dozen workers were busily smashing up the concrete stairs and connecting patios, but on we went, climbing over the rubble with our heavy bags, sweating profusely, and alternately cursing and laughing as we plodded up the hill. Once past the construction, we continued to climb the stairs, and climb, and climb... following the occasional signs to the hostel as we went.
We finally came to the top, and were greeting by a wonderful old Observatory housing the youth hostel. We checked in, dragged our bags up two more flights of stairs, and made for the roof, where we had a view over all of
Qingdao, complete with a cafe and bar, a rooftop pool table, and the old observatory dome itself, decked out with cushions and curtains and the resident cuddly kitten.
Score!










A few days in Qingdao brought both rain and snow, which we were decidedly NOT prepared for. So after walking around a bit, finding the street markets, and watching in awe as the locals played beach volleyball practically in the buff and went swimming in the ocean, despite the freezing temperatures, we decided it was time to move south to Shanghai.

Easier said than done.

The receptionist at our hostel suggested taking the overnight bus to Shanghai instead of the train - “cheaper and faster,” she said. I suppose I cant argue with the truth of her statement, but the bus had a confusion factor that wasn't described as part of the bargain.

When we departed for the “bus station” in the cab she called for us, she neglected to include a few details – such as how we would be deposited by the side of a busy road with no obvious bus terminal in sight, and no where to walk without delving by foot into thick truck traffic because there were also no sidewalks in sight;
...or how we would have to stand there and wait until a man approached us flapping a paper with the receptionists' cell phone number on it (this part we only discovered upon begging our cab driver to call the receptionist to ask what the heck we were supposed to do once let out on the side of this busy, sidewalk-less road);
...or how we would have to stand in a 20x20 concrete block with a dozen chain-smoking men for nearly an hour while waiting for our bus to arrive (after diving into the aforementioned truck traffic on the heels of the paper-waving man and skirting a narrow opening between the trucks and a tall barrier wall to find the “station”);
...or how the bus that arrived to take us would have no reclining seats and no bathroom (both of which she assured me the overnight bus would have), leading us to frantically decide whether we should proceed or get the hell off now – after deciding we would use an empty water bottle for a toilet, we reluctantly decided to proceed;
...or how 30 minutes later, we would once again be ushered off the formidably inadequate bus onto a new bus waiting for us in the dark on the side of the highway – this one with a bathroom (yay!) and full of metal bunk beds, three across and end-to-end the length of the bus (double yay!!).

While in the end, all was well, those little details would have been good to know.

We promptly claimed the only two connecting bunks, at the very back of the bus, hung a blanket across the end as a makeshift screen, and settled in for the night. Not luxury, but quite comfy compared to what we thought we had gotten ourselves in for! About 8 hours later, we were suddenly awakened by the bus slowing down and the lights coming up as we pulled into the station in Shanghai, just before 5 a.m. It was pitch black, and my plan to duck into a nearby cafe (non existent), grab a coffee (ditto) and get oriented was abandoned in favor of grabbing a waiting cab, handing over a piece of paper with the address of our hostel, and hoping it wasn't too far or too expensive. Fortunately, it was neither. 10 minutes later, we were leaving our bags with the hostel's night watchman and heading out to find coffee and food. Shanghai was still deep asleep, but our hostel was immediately behind the Marriott, and McDonald's (24/7) was conveniently immediately across the street from the front of said Marriott. Micky-D's never looked so good! Two Egg McMuffins and two hours later, the reception desk at our hostel opened, and we checked in for the start of a week in Shanghai!

Seoul: Part 1

Oops - just realized I neglected to post "Part 1" before posting "Part 2" - here it is...

Seoul: Part 1
Seoul made the 2008 Lonely Planet's Readers' Poll of the world 10 most hated cities, right up there with Chetumal, Mexico. I'm in agreement on many of the others, but on the selection of Seoul, I'm dumbfounded.
Colin and I originally planned to leave Seoul the day following Tom's departure, staying a total of three days. Instead, we decided to stay an additional five days, then another two.... In all, we had 10 days in and around Seoul, including a short side trip to the nearby West Sea Islands. We could happily have stayed longer, feeling comfortable with the city by the time we left, but like we had just scratched the surface of really getting to know it. The people we saw every day had just started to open up – our morning coffee and waffle vendor broke off a piece of her sticky rice cake to share with us the morning we left, and our inn owner's son had just started to seek Colin out to play the clown and make him laugh when he came home from morning kindergarten. We left before any real friendships had a chance to take hold, but not before falling in love with the city and many of its unique neighborhoods. If Seoul is the worst of what we are going to experience, this is going to be a stellar year!

Arriving at the Seoul Train Station from the southern city of Gyeongju, we easily navigated the subway and found our guest house in an alley just steps from the station stairs. It was also less than a block from Gyeongbukgong Palace – perhaps Seoul's most impressive palace in a city filled with them. Inn Daewon was squeezed in between several simple Korean restaurants serving groups of office workers from the nearby highrises, but inside the inn showed the bones of a traditional hanok (traditional house) with a plant filled central courtyard surrounded by guest rooms and a shared kitchen.
On our first evening, we walked down the wide avenue stretching south from the palace gate – the street left me with the impression of Lincoln Center melded with the D.C. Mall – performing arts centers and museums were interspersed with embassies and national government buildings on both sides of an expansive boulevard accented by a public median filled with walkways, statues, fountains and flower gardens. At one corner, a brightly painted corner shrine was backlit by the lights of a skyscraper, and at another, a palace gate tucked next to City Hall hinted at the many centuries that this same location has served as Korea's center of power and authority.

Returning to our inn after a dinner of seafood dolset bibimbap (seafood and veggies in a very hot pot, mixed at the table to complete cooking and meld the flavors) we slept happy and content on mattresses on our ondol (heated) floor, pleased that Seoul was looking like a good place to be.

Our second day in Seoul clinched it. With only one last full day with Tom before his return home, we set out to experience some of Seoul's most irresistible offerings – the open air markets and the public baths. As we wandered down the boulevard again, we caught the sound of horns and music from the opposite side of the street.
Making our way across, we saw flashes of bright blues and yellows in the crowd along the sidewalk. We had just stumbled onto the changing of the guard at one of the city's many palaces – what a spectacle!
Despite the occasional wink from a “soldier” to a child in the crowd, it was like being transported back in time – beautiful pagentry and incredible costuming. They even had a tent set up where passersby could try on period clothing and wander around the square – very cool. When it was all over, we continued on our way, stopping in a few bookstores and oogling at the many fountains and squares along the way, until we arrived at Namaedum Market.

Entering the market through “Street Food Alley,” we were immediately inundated with new sights and smells. In between whole dried squid and vats of boiled silk worm larvae, appealing options like “knife cut noodles” and Korean mandoo (dumplings) made our stomachs growl.
We spent some time exploring the different alleyways, offering everything from ginseng and iron tools to electronics and mother-of-pearl boxes. The market was a maze of people and wares, and has been going strong in this location for centuries. Once we'd worked up an appetite, we found a bustling stall with tables in the back and piles of steaming dumplings and meats on a grill in front. We squeezed in to take a seat, pointed to a few things that looked edible, and ordered a couple of beers. As usual, it was de-lish! We wobbled out, not able to finish it all, and took in a last swing around the market before moving on.

Our next target – a public bath (sorry, no photos folks!) – led us through side streets and underground passages en route to and around the back of Seoul Station. After carefully following the directions in our guide book, we were left staring at a construction site where the bath should have been. Undeterred, we hopped on the subway and headed to the Olympic Stadium, home of “SpaLand” - one of Seoul's largest public baths. Actually, SpoLand and SpaLand are two halves of the same facility – an olympic sized swimming pool, indoor golf, and fitness center on the sporting (“spo”) side; and hot spring baths, saunas, steam rooms, and jjimjibang – a family area with heated floors, cafe, massage chairs, oxygen room and computer room - on the “spa” side. For the truly hard-core budget traveler, you can stay all night if you want to, sleeping on a thin mat on a heated floor with an awkward but functional square pillow (they used to be wood blocks). For less than ten bucks, you get all the facilities, a locker, and a place to crash.

After nearly three hours of blissful indulgence, we convinced Colin it was time to go – he absolutely loved it and didn't want to leave, so I had to promise we'd come back. Guess we were going to stay a few days longer in Seoul! We went to the airport with Tom the next day, then just moped around our guest house missing him until bedtime – this separation was harder than our original departure in Canada. It took all my self control not to tell him to pack in the job and get his butt back to us a.s.a.p.! But then Id be responsible for all his discomforts on the trip ahead – not sure I want to “own” that. ;-)

Next up - Seoul: Part 2... (Note: there will be a delay in our regularly scheduled programming, due to government restrictions on social networking and blog sites... look for more near the end of November)

Seoul: Part 2

Seoul: Part 2
We decided to stay in Seoul for another week, because our first couple of days there had us completely hooked . We met up with fellow traveler Meg, who we'd first met in Tokyo, for a visit inside the walls of Gyeongbokgung Palace, just a block from our inn.
The palace is a sprawling complex of grand halls, freestanding temples, and a spacious open air banquet hall constructed in the center of a pond, all connected by stone walkways and dotted with gardens. At the northeast corner, a five-story pagoda houses the National Folk Museum, and just across the road an historic neighborhood of 'hanoks' – traditional homes – winds up the hills of an quiet enclave called Bukchon Village.

After leaving the palace, we wandered through these streets oogling at the doors and arches of the homes, feeling like we were in a Korean version of San Francisco's restored Victorians. In the evening, we met Ji Young - a Korean woman my mother had befriended at a conference in Brazil, who took us to an incredible dumpling soup house in nearby Samcheongdong that we never would have found on our own, and then back into Bukchon Village to a traditional tea house we had seen earlier in the day, but mistaken for a museum(!).
Sitting on the floor, sipping fruit and flower concoctions and nibbling on pumpkin rice cake, Colin discovered a love for tea that has continued through our travels ever since – very cool development!

The next day we sought out the Children's Grand Park, covering many acres far to the southeast of the city center.
Fairly run down, it still provided space for running, plus an old-timey amusement park, an aviary, and an “animal show” featuring doves, seals and monkeys – most of which did what they pleased, rather than what the trainers wanted. ;-) The zoo was a depressing sight though – outdated, substandard habitats and too small spaces.


The evening was a greater success – we rode the cable car up Namsan Mountain, where the N'Seoul Tower is visible from all points of the city. At the top, we were instantly drawn into an Italian restaurant sitting on the cliffside, where Colin was able to get his pasta fix and I had my first glass of red wine in 6 weeks (ahhh..). Walking around N'Seoul Tower after dinner, we took in magnificent views of the city at night.

We needed to get an early start the next day – our inn didn't have a room for us the next night, so we had decided to head out to the West Sea Islands for an overnight visit. Unfortunately, we didn't in fact get an early start, after lazing through breakfast and visiting the nearby used bookstore to exchange books for Colin, so once we stored our bags and took the hour+ subway to Incheon, the port city west of Seoul, we had missed the last ferry to the islands.
Incheon didn't look like much, but we decided to buck up and take a room at the Hong Kong Motel in Chinatown near the subway station, then head to the islands the next day, delaying our return to Seoul. Chinatown in Incheon proved to be pretty interesting – very overwrought and ornate, with a great view of the sunset from the hill at the top of the 'hood. The Hong Kong was equal parts “love hotel” and respectable dive, and the management seemed pretty good at keeping the different types of guests separate - the man checking in before us got a little packet of condoms and accoutrements, while we were simply given our room key (whew). The next morning, we successfully made our way to the ferry terminal and caught a boat to Deokjeokdo – about an hour from the mainland on the “fast boat.”

At the ferry terminal, the tourist information office called ahead to book a room for us and arrange for pick up from the ferry. When we arrived, we walked past the fish and seafood market set up on the dock, and our ride quickly found us (we stuck out like sore thumbs, once again being the only foreigners on the boat). We drove to the opposite side of the island, to Sepori Beach – a lovely 2 km stretch of sand in a cozy bay – and a few blocks into a very sleepy seaside town to our inn. The town looked just about comatose, and we were the only guests at the hotel, aside from a few workers doing maintenance and repairs.
It was the off, off season, apparently. As we headed out to get something to eat, the owner stopped us and asked if we'd like his wife to cook something, because the restaurants (*all* of them, he said) were closed. We said sure and did a quick circuit of town before returning to eat. It was clear that the only thing worth seeing this time of year was the beach itself, which to be fair, was what we'd came for. In fact, we had the beach entirely to ourselves!
During what was left of the morning low tide, a few shellfish gatherers harvested out in the shallows, but once the water rose, our only company on the beach was a sweet little dog that Colin dubbed “Flop.” He stayed with us all day, romping and sleeping in the sand, while Colin built him a royal doggie sand castle and played canine tag. It was perfect, and a great way to rejuvenate for taking on the rest of Seoul.
We watched the spectacular sunset, which seemed to last for hours, before returning to our hotel, having another meal with the maintenance crew as our only companions. I was tempted to wake early enough to climb the mountain behind us to the tiny shrine just barely visible at the very top, but time was too short – we woke, ate some store-bought cookies, and headed back to the ferry for the return to Incheon. By mid afternoon, we were back at Inn Daewon in Seoul and making plans for the evening – a return visit to SpaLand for a few hours of soaking, steaming and leisurely reading stretched out on the jjimjibang's heated floors.

With just two days left in Korea, we mapped out what remaining Seoul sights we most wanted to see. The Shamanistic Temple in the north hills, a restored stream running through the city center, and the famous neighborhood of Insadong made the cut – all fantastic!
We got horribly lost looking for the temple, hiking up and down the foothills of the mountain it was hidden on at least three times, which made finding it all that much sweeter. ;-)
Colin became intimately familiar with Chyeonggu – the restored stream running through the city center – when he fell into it jumping over a series of slick rocks; and we fell hard for Insadong, where we had the best food we'd eaten yet in Korea.
We spent our entire last day wandering the streets of Insadong, visiting the park where the Korean Declaration of Independence was first read, and browsing, shopping and eating our way through the alleys. Exhausted, we headed back for our final night at Inn Daewon. The next day would be all packing and transit, first by subway again to the Port at Incheon, and then boarding our overnight ferry to China....

Next up: Taking the slow boat to China....

Poem on China (Colin, via email)

Bamboo rafts on the Li
We decide to take one, you and me.
The karst mountains crawl on by
On the raft, we seem to fly.