Solo in Seoul

It's quarter past six on the evening of the 15th of January, and I'm about to board a flight to Seoul, South Korea. I'm alone, and probably quite underprepared for the next thirty-six hours. I've never been before, and although I know a little about the country I'm about to make a whistle-stop tour to, the last time I truly paid attention to this particular East Asian country for an extended period of time was most probably the 2002 World Cup, hosted by South Korea and Japan.

I really don't know what to expect.

So, with my trusty "Top Ten Things To Do in Seoul" guidebook, and a horrendous understanding of Korea... Off I trot to the most easterly nation I have ever stepped foot in.

Along the way, I will speak to as many people as possible, and experience as much of contemporary Korean culture as one can possibly inhale in a waking time of around 12 hours.

What follows is my travelogue of this time:

First, a little vignette from the flight. As you begin to watch an in-flight movie, there's a short Korean Air spot, just a little trademark to remind you who you're flying with. All airlines probably do it, and it's probably pretty uninteresting. But this particular one seems to have borrowed the first few bars from the Jurassic Park movie theme tune as their jingle. Pretty surreal. I wonder if they know? They must do, right?

Tundra:! It's dawn over Irkutsk, near the Russian-Mongolian border. I know that due to the weird little in-flight map system on the to screen they give you. I also know it's beautiful, because I have a window seat. I'm having to be kinda sneaky about looking out of the window, because it's what you might call "Airline Enforced Nightime". The cabin lights are dimmed, and they're attempting to keep it as dark and quiet as possible so people can sleep. Totally fair. But I'm flying over Southern Russian Siberia! I want to look out of the window! I've already been scolded for opening my blind  once.

Outside I can see mountains covered in snow, and rivers so white that they must be frozen. The
Cold is that special kind of freezing, that looks almost Blue from this height. This is the land of wolves and ice. Maybe people live here, but if so, they live in small villages or encampments. I can see no real built up areas. Just forest, and really scary looking mountains. "Well Patrick", I think to myself, as we tip right slowly, turning South, and I see a blanket of ice, a river, cut from the forest with clean lines, tamed as expertly as a piste from the wild... "Welcome to Asia".

 I've fantasised about seeing Lake Baikal, the biggest on the planet, since I first saw a documentary on Russia with Jonathan Dimbleby. I might be 30,000ft above it, but I have still just laid eyes upon it. I am astounded. It's a wonder of the world. It's a cradle of life, surrounded by mountains rising up to greet us. Well, either that or we're losing altitude, but I'm not even going to think about that.

6am after a very deep sleep in a hotel I can only describe as very Korean, and I find myself in a traditional Korean taxi driver's restaurant. These places are open 24 hours a day in order to keep the drivers of Seoul going. Much like the little green huts you see around London, but much, much nicer.
I order a soup which I have been told Koreans often eat for breakfast. It's a bit of a nightmare, and the waitress has to show me how exactly I am supposed to consume various parts (and there are many parts) of the meal. I found solace in the sticky rice. Partly because it was easy, but also because I hadn't eaten in a while, and my belly needed filling.
The soup was also served with two huge bowls of Kimchi, which although I had been told was starkly different from European or American versions of the pickled vegetables, still shocked me slightly. One was a mass of cabbage, the other, several slices of turnip or similar root vegetable. They were both spicy, sweet and brilliant alongside the beefy stock of spring onions and noodles. All this masses of food for around £8!
Although I surprised the hostel concierge by asking for directions to one of these restaurants, instead of the western style breakfast shacks that are becoming popular in Seoul, it was completely worth while. This was true Korean food. I can tell partly by the slight buzz going around my tastebuds 20 minutes after I last took a bite. It was also evident from the lack of English spoken by the staff (all two of them), and the obviously taken-aback look on their faces when I, and young white Brit, walked into their establishment with my little brown briefcase and a smile. Though it was 6am, and I know places in London that would be shocked at that.

I'm now on a train into Central Seoul. It is clean (and I mean spotless), bright white, almost empty... And yep, just like the hotel had underfloor heating, these seats are toasty as can be!
I dig a lot about Seoul, but the one thing I really think we could easily implement in Britain that would make people's lives a whole lot happier is the little jingle that they play on platforms when the train is about to arrive, and on the train as it is approaching the station. It's just nice, y'know?


First stop, Seoul City Hall. I like city halls, I think they give a good indication of how the lives of their citizens are led, as the architecture is essentially the way the municipal authorities make a first impression on visitors.
My first impressions were as good as the authorities could expect.

The Hall is made of two parts. First, the old hall. It is much like any other city hall, really, two wings either side of a main concourse. White brick, and grand without being ostentatious. Not a Catholic Church then. The new part on the other hand, is a glass behemoth rising above the old part like a tidal wave, the top floor curved and protruding out, almost as if it is about to crash over the old city and wash it away in order to start again.
The interior carries on this aesthetic, inspired by the natural world. It is home to the people and organisations that are tasked with making Seoulites lives as easy as possible. This idea of life is taken onboard quite literally. The walls are covered in vertical gardens, showcasing some of the local flora.

After marvelling in this building for some time, I made my way to Gyeongbokgung Palace, one of the ancient royal palaces that the Kings of Korea once inhabited. Upon arrival, the changing of the guards ceremony started almost immediately. Perfect timing! During the ceremony, I commented to an American family how much better it was than the changing of the guards at Buckingham palace. One of them said she'd like to see it, and hey, "You guys have a Queen though, that's pretty cool!". Those of you reading this who know my views on royalty can probably imagine my face at this point, as I made a remark about how that wasn't exactly great for a so-called LiberalDemocracy like the UK. The Americans made their exit at this point.

The ceremony really was a lot more impressive than the British equivalent, though. Perhaps it was because it was all new to me, but I found their traditional Korean dress much more interesting than a boring red coat and big ol' bear hat. The entrance and exit of the guards was marked by the beating of a huge drum, by a man for whom this was his sole job. Probably a pretty decent job, but standing around all day in the bitter cold for only a few moments work each hour must be a bit tiresome. Speaking of the cold, it's been about -8c all day. Now I get these heated subways seats.

There was a whole lot of marching, music, and flag waving. It was a little bit Edinburgh Military Tattoo actually. But much better. The bagpipes' dirge was replaced by the (surprisingly tuneful) blowing through a shell.  There was also an entertainingly chubby man at the back of the marching band who seemed to be a bit fed up that all he was allowed to do was crash cymbals. He was good at it though, and crashed those cymbals loud and hard each time. Good job.

I then paid about £2 to enter the Palace compound itself. It's massive! I mean, I know it's a royal compound and all, but it just seemed to go on and on, so whichever direction you turn out of whichever quad, there was either another quad of some importance (usually where some King or other had invented something. I found this doubtful, to say the least. Surely it was an aide who invited all these things, and the King just presided over it? I mean, one apparently invited the alphabet. It was all a little "Kim Jong Un just invented the Hamburger" for comfort.) or there was a ceremonial garden. The gardens were the best bit. Not only was the flora very new to me, but they often allowed a brief rest from the Selfie-Stick waving masses that were wandering around the more important parts of the complex. Often this wandering was helped by a guide, who all decided to speak through microphones, even when addressing a crowd of 6. Infuriating, but I guess if you give someone a mic, they are going to use it, aren't they?

After an hour and a half of guard changing and wandering, my fingers felt like they would drop off from the cold. I think the café workers were a little surprised about how excited I was to see their warm, welcoming sofas, and cheap elixirs (coffee).

After that, I trotted off to find some grub. Before I did, I found one of the best buildings I've ever seen. It made me think, much like I did in Amsterdam, that we Brits just need to say yes to more slightly mental ideas. The Jongno Tower is a skyscraper unlike any other. It looks from the side like any other, and then, as you round the corner, you realise that the architect has decided that on top of this already impressive structure, he would place another set of floors, supported only on the sides, and with a whole through the middle. I guess he really liked doughnuts. Ironically enough, there was a Dunkin' Doughnuts opposite. I hope it was ironic, anyway.

That brings me on to another important point about Seoul, actually. And that is the American influence. It is everywhere. For obvious historical and current political reasons, of course (the U.S. Army still has a large contingent here). However, it is still a bit weird seeing Subway,Starbucks, 7Eleven and the aforementioned doughnut dispensary at almost uniform intervals.

My lunch was again very Korean, well, once I'd managed to communicate what I'd like. They had no English menu, and I had to go outside with the waitress to point at the picture of the food they have on the street. Another funny little touch was the ringtone of their kitchen phone: Beethoven's 5th, in 8-bit. Naturally.

This place was in the Insadong neighbourhood. Unfortunately I wasn't able to spend as much time as I'd have liked there, and see all the cool little art places, as I had to catch my train back to Unseo to collect my bag and be on time for my flight. Much like my failure to see Namdan park; where you can climb the city centre hills, scale the radio tower, and get superb views of Seoul, this simply gives me a reason to come back and spend some more time in South Korea.

The restaurant was mainly frequented by builders and local tradesmen and women. I'm fairly sure they were laughing at my clueless attempts to locate the chopsticks, and I'm almost certain they then laughed at my using of them. I had ambition, but not much else. Massive amounts of rice, kimchi and egg-battered vegetables accompanied my chilli and seafood soup. Well. I say seafood. There was a whole prawn (which I had exactly no clue how I was supposed to separate from it's shell with only chopsticks and a spoon) and two clams. The clams were very nice. I'm sure the prawn might have been too. Suffice to say, I did not starve.

Just saw an advert for "Mr. Pizza! Ladies First". Not entirely sure if it's a pizza place or some kind of Sugardaddy service. That's an odd way to end my South Korean adventure, but actually it's quite fitting. Seoul is a city that does not allow one to know what to expect. It is an intricate mix of history and extravagant futurism. It's wide boulevards are within a stone's throw of winding urban mazes which the locals traverse as locals do, but tourists are intrigued by and nervous of. For every Taxi Driver's midnight soup stall, there is a 7Eleven and Burger King. The airport is similar to the City Hall in it's structure and aesthetic, yet is full of Hello Kitty cafés and designer scarf stores.

It was a hectic 36 hours, and I'm extremely glad to have taken the opportunity to have them in Seoul. But next time, I will have to travel with two things: a friend or group, and summer weather. There are times for cold, but wandering round a completely new city is perhaps not one.