Our Glorious Trip to Seoul

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(Jeremy writing) Jen loves travel, and so do I, so I thought a great birthday present for her would be a trip to Seoul. I did some research, booked a train there for Friday night, got a hotel in Itaewon (a suburb of Seoul), and booked a tour of the Demilitarized Zone. Seoul is just a three hour train ride north, so right after work we grabbed our pre-packed bags and took the one hour subway ride to Busan Station. We arrived in plenty of time and shortly boarded our train. Jen had packed ham sandwiches, Dr. Peppers, and beer. We were the envy of the train. It had been 4 ½ months since a ham and cheese sandwich and it tasted great laced with cilantro. We sipped our beers covertly like nervous teenagers, not sure if beer was allowed on the train or not (recurring theme: we’re not too sure of anything in this country). When the attendants would walk by we would hoist our Dr. Pepper cans and drop the beer from sight. For all we know, Dr. Pepper might have been disallowed. We arrived in Seoul around midnight but Seoul Station was still a hubbub of activity. We were confronted with a long taxi line when a taxi recruiter-all sparse wild hair and missing teeth-came and seemingly saved us from the line by looking at the hotel information we had and ushering us to a cab. We paid 10,000 won up front (8 bucks and change) and sat down in the taxi. We gave the driver the card with the directions and he promptly told us-in Korean of course-to get out. At least we think that’s what he said. He refunded us 5,000 which of course is not 10,000. Even this country boy could smell a scam. Thus ensued a wild bilanguage argument between us and him and neither side spoke a word of the other’s languages. We soon resorted to grunts and gestures but the guy would not give us our money back. The recruiter came over to see what was up and the driver yelled something at him and he yelled something back and then hesitantly offered us 10,000 for the 5,000 we had just been given. Jen held onto our money until the very last second until she had a firm grip then yanked it from the recruiter while simultaneously releasing her hold on the 5,000. Anyway, we got in the distressingly long taxi line where the recruiter-madman again tried to ferry us to another taxi. Jen dismissed him forcefully as “Bavo” which means mentally unstable. And like that, he was gone-but not for good. We met a Canadian going to roughly the same place we were and split a cab-final meter cost-4200. We said goodbye to the Canadian and made our way to the hotel that had been recommended to us by another Canadian we work with. It was once the Seoul House Inn, now it was the Seoul Hotel. That hotel. That hotel. Where to begin?

(Jen writing now) To begin with, the part of Seoul we were told to stay in by our coworker was rough. I think we were both rather surprised by the area upon arrival. It is only a few mere blocks from the military base and I’m sure you can imagine exactly what that entails. We arrived around 11:30pm to find dozens upon dozens of completely wasted, sloppy drunks hanging on the hookers decorating the sidewalks. At lest I felt safe walking with Jeremy. The “G.I.’s” were loud and drunk and were just about enough to make anyone give up drinking altogether. We finally reached what we thought might be our hotel. We had a business card that read “Seoul House”, the sign down the block said “Seoul Motel” and the sign on the door said “Seoul Hotel”. Naming your motel several different names makes it real easy for people to find you. On our way up the steep stairs a very drunk girl falling all over the place and I’m assuming a guy she was visiting warned us that if we didn’t have a reservation we could turn around right then. We thanked her for her helpfulness and continued on. I was rather surprised by the lobby when we finally found it, but I figured as long as they maintained their rooms it would be no big deal. WRONG! Honestly, it looked like the type of place that would literally have an hourly rate. Being so close to the military base, this would probably be a very profitable business for them. At this point I made a mental note to self: never take that Canadian’s advice on a place to stay! We got the key to our room and slowly opened the door. In Korea you have to insert your key into a slit on the wall in order to get power. We slid the key in and hoped for the best as the lights came on. Wrong again! The hallway leading in was maybe 3 feet wide. There was a unique odor and the walls and floor were filthy. We looked into the tiny bathroom and found toothpaste, cheap cologne, mouthwash, a hair brush, and hair spray lined against the mirror. At this point I was certain that we could have reserved the room for an hour and wondered how many people before us already had. If I had had any foresight I would have brought our own sheets so we wouldn’t have to worry, but our coworker had said it was the best place to stay in Itaewon. (Of course…) We had to be up pretty early the next morning to start the tour so we decided to go to sleep. We finished up in the bathroom and turned the bedroom light on so we could see to get into bed. At this point I wish we could say that we were shocked by what happened, but instead we only laughed slightly at the irony of the final touch of the motel. As we flipped the switch, our room was lit up in a beautiful hue of red. Yep, bright red. I would have looked for the slot to insert change in to make the bed vibrate, but the bedroom was so small that there was less than an inch of space around the perimeter of the bed and the wall. Even more scared to sleep on the sheets, I closed my eyes and could only hope for the best.

The next morning we got up later than we had hoped. We were trying to hurry so that we could get a lot accomplished. This alone was a huge challenge to share a bathroom that was maybe 3x4. There are no shower curtains or doors in this country. The bathroom and the shower are one and the same. (It can be considered a shower with a toilet basically) After Jeremy finished his shower, there was probably an inch of water through the whole bathroom. We had already checked each other over for any signs of a rash when Jeremy went to go to the bedroom to get dressed. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his feet fly out from underneath him. Again, the hallway was no more than 3 feet wide. You can only imagine the way his 6’1” body had to bend in order to fit into that space. One leg was twisted up behind him and the other was twisted to the side. He fell hard, but I honestly didn’t know whether I should be more concerned about a broken ankle or what he might catch from the floor he was laying on. Luckily he didn’t get hurt too badly in the fall. One toe in particular was hurting him, but he put on his shoes and we hurried to start the tour.


(Jeremy) On Saturday, we hit the 8:30 alarm about 10 times and got up at 10:00. The plan was to take a bus tour of Seoul’s downtown and palaces. We taxied to the start of the bus tour, waited about 15 minutes, got on, and were dropped off at the first stop about 50 yards from where we had been standing waiting for the bus in the first place. We’ll never get those 15 minutes back. The first stop was a palace and we saw four in all. They were all somewhat similar, built in the 14th century, destroyed by the Japanese in the 16th and then rebuilt. They did capture the imagination though. I found the walkways interesting. There was a central walkway leading to the throne room that was raised above two walkways to the left and right. The central walkway was reserved for the king alone. There was also a large doorway just for the king. Out in the workers’ quarters, there were doorways for men and women. The palaces differed a great deal from the European style with their wood, their vibrant colors and slanted roofs. We went from Deoksugung to Changgyeongung to Changdeokgung to Gyeongbokgung. Nope, I can’t pronounce them either. Changdeokgung in particular was picturesque, and it had what used to be a nice library for study and meditation. The grounds of each were huge and we walked a great deal. My toe hurt a great deal. We also saw the Blue House where the Korean president lives. We began to walk across a crosswalk to get a better view of the house when we were stopped by non-uniformed men who simply told us “no” and would not explain why. OK. We went to the next crosswalk, waited for the little green man, then began walking. We were stopped by another set of men. OK. We went to the next crosswalk and got some more déjà vu. Finally, at the fourth crosswalk, we were allowed to pass. I wonder if they were asking us riddles or something. We have learned to accept strange things and move on. So we did.

(Jen) Next we saw the changing of the guards at one palace, the war memorial, and Seoul Tower. The Palaces were all distinctly different, but I think you get the main idea. The War Memorial was huge and had so many relics. It was quite moving, really, and unlike many memorials it paid a great deal of homage to women soldiers, as well. All the victories were in English, while the defeats were in Korean. There was a very nice memorial room with flowing water and dim lighting to honor all those who had died in the Korean war. I would say that all of the palaces and the memorial were worth the money spent. Seoul Tower, however, was a rip off. We climbed to the top and took some pictures while we waited for our cheeseburgers. The view was really nice and after finishing our food we decided to go to the top. Big mistake…. After paying the entrance fee, were taken up a few floors in the elevator and were told we had to get off there. We stepped out and walked around to take in the 365 degree view we were promised. Only, it was exactly what we had just seen for free. The tower was enclosed by glass that had not been cleaned in years. We could hardly see through it and certainly couldn’t take any pictures because of the glare. We basically paid $10 to ride an elevator. Good times!

(Jeremy) We had eaten nothing but Pringle’s all day, and by now it was well after 6 PM. In a desperate move, we ate two expensive and disgusting cheeseburgers to tide us over until Chili’s, which Lonely Planet said was nearby and which we decided we must have. We got our fill of the view and took a cable car back down-a closed cable car packed like a sardine can. It was amusing, however, because with each slight sway of the car the Koreans gasped en masse, something they do when turbulence hits, too. We got down OK, walked to the subway, and got off at the Chili’s stop. Unfortunately, the subway stop was about all we had besides a really bad map. We hoped when we topped the stairs Chili’s would be shining like a mecca with its delicious chips and salsa and chicken ranch sandwich, but all was dark. I chose the first random direction which means we should have walked the opposite way, and turns out, we should have. We asked people if they knew of Chili’s and they did not.

(Jen again) Ok, some of you may not understand our persistence to find a Chili’s. Of course they very easy to come by at home and you know that you can have it soon if not that night. For us, looking for a restaurant like Chili’s is like a pilgrimage. No one knows anything about them, but they’re quick to tell you there’s delicious Korean food available. Oh, and an Outback that only charges $25 a hamburger. Anyway, I was determined to find it. I asked person after person for a hint of help finding it. Little by little, the pieces came together. One person helped us find the store listed close by on the map. Then another helped us find a street and so on. Jeremy was ready to give up when I decided to ask one last person. When we walked past them I thought I heard a girl say something in English. Both her and her friend were Asian, but I thought there was a chance. Bingo! She lived in the U.S. and spoke perfect English. She looked on our map and gave it some thought. The she used her cell phone to call a friend that would know for certain which street it was on. I was elated; I could practically taste the food as she dialed the numbers. At the end of the conversation we heard her say’ “Oh, really? Ok, thanks.” She turned to us and broke the news. It had once been right around the corner, but alas, they had closed it. She reassured us that there were plenty of good places to eat nearby and said goodbye. After walking up and down every possible street we finally came across an Italian place and decided to give it a try. It was good, but at that point anything probably would have been. After dinner I was exhausted and couldn’t wait to get home. We went to the corner of the street to hail a taxi. Jeremy became fascinated by a huge department store that was lit up by thousands of light bulbs that changed from purple to blue to green to yellow to red and back to purple again. We got in the car and headed back to our lovely motel. About 7 minutes down the road, Jeremy insisted that we stop the taxi, get out, and go back to take a picture of the purple building. Knowing he may regret not having a picture for the rest of his life, we went back. We finally got to our room sometime later. This was the first time we had stopped all day and I took a look at Jeremy’s foot. The second toe from the right was completely black and purple! He broke it in his fall and then walked on it all day long.

(Jeremy) The alarm came at 6:30 and there would be no snoozing this morning. The DMZ dress code said no shorts, no flip-flops, no tight clothes, and no excessive piercings. We complied with our Sunday best. We went to Dunkin Donuts and then to the pickup point a ways down the street. The street was preternaturally quiet this morning after walking past all the drunken army men and their women the night before. There was a couple engaged in heavy foreplay on the sidewalk. We assumed that they had no place to go and were waiting for someone to check out of the Seoul Motel so they could finish their courtship.

We sat down at the hotel pickup point and I checked for the one thing we absolutely needed beyond a shadow of a doubt you can’t come in and you get no refund: our passports. We had forgot them. I sprinted back to our hotel on my broken toe. The couple who had been rutting on the street were now rutting in our hotel hallway. I grabbed the passports and ran back where they were already waiting. We made a couple of more stops and headed for the DMZ with about 14 people on a little tour bus. We saw the beautiful North Korean horizon early into the 45 minute drive along with miles and miles and barbed wire and fence. We stopped at Freedom Bridge to merge our tour with others onto a government bus and were off again. Our first stop was Dorasan Observatory-the highlight of the tour. From this point, we gazed across the lush DMZ into North Korea. We saw South Korea’s 100 meter flag and the not to be outdone North Korean 100+ meter flag. We learned the DMZ is one of the most ecologically diverse places on the planet because no human has set foot in it for more than 50 years save for the occasional defector. We went from the Observatory to the Third Tunnel. Apparently, North Korea had dug a series of up to 20 tunnels underneath the DMZ capable of each moving 30,000 men with all their vehicles and equipment per hour. A North Korean defector told South Korea of the tunnels, but so far they have found only four. One of those four is now open to the public! It is like surreal Disneyworld up there on the most heavily fortified border in the world-they even have a few carnival rides as blank-faced soldiers with assault rifles stare into the distance. The tunnel was dark and ominous but we got to wear fun Bob the Builder hats. Dynamite holes conclusively prove the North Koreans dug the tunnel but they still blame the South. We wondered if a thousand meters down the line North Korea was sponsoring tours showing their end of the tunnel and how devilish the South is. The North Koreans had put coal dust all over the wall to say “Even if we did do it-which we didn’t-it was for coal mining.” We descended down a sharp slope to a length of 300 meters. The end of the tourist part of the tunnel was eerier. A strand of barbed wire prevented passage. A plastic partition further inhibited anyone from going forward, and several feet beyond that was a concrete wall. A small iron door was set into the concrete wall. A camera monitored that door. It was strange to think that a regiment of soldiers could be right on the other side, or if I could get through, I could walk to North Korea. That little door was creepy.

(Jen) For the last part of the tour we were taken to the railway station, which is not yet in use, but will be once North and South Korea are reunited. We even got a stamp in our passport to commemorate this momentous event! (This ended up causing me problems in the end. For Jeremy and I to get our visa to China I was told they needed blank pages and I only had 1 left after this stamp was added. There is always the joy of discovery for us here in Korea….) Anyway, afterwards we were taken for lunch. One thing Jeremy and I have learned from living here is that sometimes it’s just better to starve. We opted out of the lunch knowing that we would pay for it otherwise. The garden was actually really nice and we laid in a swing for about an hour and a half while everyone else ate.

We were happy to get back to Itaewon and collect our belongings. Our bed here in Busan is horrible, but somehow we were longing for it. Here the bed is hard and small, but we don’t have to worry about anything else. We carried our bags to where we would soon board the train. In Korea, you are only allowed through the gates and onto the train about 8 minutes before it leaves. We stood there waiting patiently as were approached by a worker there. He spoke to us in Korean and as we turned to try to figure out what he wanted we all gleamed with recognition. It was our friend that tried to scam us out of 10,000 won for the taxi on Friday night. We looked at each other in disbelief and laughed, then backed slowly away from each other. He knew there was no chance with us and quickly went onto the next person. We got on the train and headed home, arriving back in Busan around 10 or so. Our final rating of Seoul: good times, but no need to go back any time soon. As a final side note, another coworker took her grandparents to Seoul this past weekend, and against our recommendation put them up in the Seoul House Inn/Hotel/Motel. Wonder how they liked it?

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