Sokcho and Soraksan Hone Ja-Style (혼자 =Alone)

Last weekend, I headed off to Sokcho, on the East coast of South Korea, for a beach/mountain experience. It was a journey in more ways than one.

I had heard about amazing Soraksan, one of Korea's most famous mountains. Though I had no intention of climbing it (the trek to the top of the highest peak takes 11 hours!), I wanted to walk around and see the beauty of these craggy mountains.

So I set off on Thursday night, after work, and arrived in Sokcho at 3am. I immediately located Samsung Motel (a fairytale, castle-like building) sticking out like one of two sore thumbs

(there's another castle motel closeby), and secured a room into which I collapsed. I didn't sleep well, though the room was clean and comfortable.

Samsung Motel

The next day, exhausted from my restless sleep, I stayed in bed for a while before forcing myself to take a shower and head out to the beach. It was a hazy but warm day and as I walked down the boardwalk towards the beach, I couldn't help but remember a similar walk, in 2005, when I was in Gold Coast on a free afternoon from my business trip.

Sokcho boardwalk

There weren't too many people around, which was restful and the ocean was quite nice. Nothing can compare with Caribbean waters, but this is the East Sea; it's a whole different ballgame. The smell of the salty air was refreshing and after looking around at the people and the sea, I settled down with my back against a low wall, in the sand, and read for several hours. The sand was quite coarse and chunky, as though it were a new beach. It was nice, though, like little crystals shining beneath your feet.

The water was a multicolored jewel. At times, bluemarine (where the seaweed floats below the surface), at times dark turquoise.

It was a very relaxing afternoon.

After a while I figured it was time to do some more exploring. I decided to walk from Sokcho beach to Daepo Port. I didn't know how long it would take, but I was up for the challenge and headed off. It took about 30 minutes. When I arrived...it was a whole other world.

Daepo Port

Noise, color, the smell of grilled seafood, everything was alive and I was instantly charmed. As I walked along the tiny street, I was assailed by the sights of dried, fresh and cooking fish. People were sitting down at street-side tables waiting for their food to cook as they drank their soju. Fish swam around in tanks along the asphalted ground.

Small boats had been converted into restaurants where people sat eating raw fish. I walked to the end of the road where the batter-fried shrimp was kept. I wanted to try everything. I wanted the raw fish, and the battered shrimp, I wanted grilled shrimp and grilled shellfish. How could I have them all? Impossible. I walked back along the road, looking for a boat restaurant that served grilled shrimp. None of them did. They only had fish and one woman directed me towards the open tables on the road. I settled myself down at one and ordered a 5,000won plate of shrimp. There were 8 shrimp. The woman serving me separated the heads and then told me to eat the heads too. I wasn't sure how to do that, but tried it anyway. I sucked out the juices from the head. Delicious! Nothing beats freshly grilled shrimp!

I also went for an order of grilled shellfish, 10,000won. A little cocktail of onions, shallots and sweet/hot sauce were added to some of the bigger shells and I was in heaven.



Jo Gae Gu Ee- grilled shellfish



In the meantime, I had ordered a bottle of soju and some coke. I'm not a shotter, I prefer to sip my alcohol, so I made a mixed drink; pretty good, all things considered. Like a rum and coke. I sat there for at least an hour: eating, drinking, reading and smoking. It was a wonderful time. Koreans looked at me with curiosity. What was I doing there alone? Kids gawked at the foreigner, but I just smiled and enjoyed my meal. I still had a little space left inside me and so decided to try a local delicacy: squid soondae 4,000won. I've since come to the conclusion that the word soondae doesn't actually mean blood sausage. I think it actually refers to the encasing of food in some kind of tube-like product. For regular soondae, this means a pig's intestines. In that case, the intestines are stuffed with glass noodles, onions and other delicious spices and vegetables. Not at all like the French blood sausage. There is actually no blood to speak of.

With squid soondae, the same ingredients are used, but instead of using the pig's intestines as an encasing agent, they use squid. It's ingenious! And absolutely delicious! They fry it and serve it to you steaming.

Squid Soondae

Unfortunately I couldn't finish it all; I had already stuffed myself to the brink. By that time, I had gone through a whole bottle of soju and two cokes. I was rightfully tipsy and in my inebriated state, I decided to walk back to the hotel along a different route, so that I would see more. As you know, with alcohol in your system, you tend to relax and feel less stressed about your surroundings. I felt more comfortable asking people if I could take pictures of them working. They were all very gracious. I got some good shots. I walked up to a shrimp stand. There were two women there, frying up loads of shrimp. They looked like a mother and daughter team. I asked the older woman if I could take a picture. "Take it! Take it!" she said and went about her business. Her daughter laughed and I did too as I took the picture, thanked them and walked away.

Fried Shrimp

I took the main boulevard back to downtown Sokcho, but after what seems like a long while, I wasn't sure I was heading in the right direction. There was a police officer at an intersection, guiding the traffic. As he took a break, I asked him, in what I think was pretty good Korean, where the bus station was. He tried to answer me in English. We both laughed. It was an adorable scene: here is the foreigner, speaking in Korean and the Korean speaking in English. We were both trying hard. I thanked him and walked on. My instincts had been right. I found my way back and ended my first day in a happy, dazed state.

The next day, I had planned to go to Soraksan early in the morning. I didn't know how long it would take to do the things I wanted to do, but as per usual, I lingered in bed and had to remind myself not to feel guilty for staying in bed on my holiday. It's a constant struggle between my body and my mind.

I finally arrived in Sorak-dong around 12pm and decided to have lunch there before heading back on the bus to the entrance of Sorak National Park. I ordered some kind of Hae Jang Guk, expecting what I had had in Seoul in the past. Hae Jang Guk is usually made with the backbone of the beef and seasoned with sesame and other vegetables. It's a hearty, meaty meal: delicious. I was expecting the same here, but instead I received a seafood version in a clear broth. I was quite confused. The main ingredient was actually cod and it wasn't bad, but not as delicious as the original Hae Jang Guk.

Seafood Hae Jang Guk

After lunch I took the bus to the entrance of Soraksan National Park. I could see the peaks rising up in the sky, reaching for the clouds. There was green everywhere, the forests healthy, promising a great day ahead.

I wanted to go see the waterfalls. I had heard that there were two of them and that the walk, in total would take about 1 1/2 hours. Okay, I could handle that! It was actually a really easy walk. The path was well indicated and easy to follow, but regardless, I would not suggest people wear anything but tennis shoes to go there. There were women in heeled sandals! I mean, are you serious!!! I couldn't believe it. We had to walk in puddles of mud at times, at other times, manoeuver around rocks and over bridges made of planked wood. These women were stepping daintily, one hand held by their significant others for balance, as they tried to pick their way through. It was pretty ridiculous, but I guess there will always be women in this world who think appearance is more important than comfort. What can you do? :)

By the time I reached Biryeong Falls, I was covered in a light sheen of sweat. There were several people there already, dipping into the water. I decided to dip my feet in myself and do a little writing. I was not prepared for the insanely cold water! Oh my God! How in the world were the other people able to be in there waist deep?! It's crazy. I had to laugh out loud. I could barely put my toes in!

The waterfalls were nice, but I was a bit underwhelmed. I had had the impression that they were going to be more impressive. No big deal, it was still a nice walk through the forest and the trees were beautiful. It was quite peaceful, unlike hiking up Halla mountain last year, when there were often human traffic jams up the mountain and the exhaustion threatened to stop you ever 100 meters or so.



Guess how the water was able to stay up!

 Afterwards, I headed for the famous cable-car. I didn't expect there to be a waiting line. Me and my naive ways...It was 3pm and the earliest time to take the cable car up the mountain was 4:10. I had to find other things to do with my time so I wandered around, looking for something to drink and a quiet spot to sit down and relax.

I noticed a man who was obviously some kind of artist, drawing onto small pieces of wood or seeds from trees. He used a type of electrical gadget to actual burn images onto the wood. It was beautiful!

Though I would have liked to have posed for a portrait, it would have been too expensive and too much of a burden to transport so I opted instead for a few small phone accessories to give out as gifts. He did an excellent job.

Eventually it was time to board the cable car. I had taken a cable car last year in Seoul, on my way down Namsan Tower on the night of Solal. It had provided us with a beautiful view of the city line. It was fun last year as it was, too, last weekend. You feel like you're floating above the earth and everything is spread out for you to admire. We live on such a wonderful earth and we too often forget to appreciate it.

I followed a path up to the peak of the mountain where there is a legend of two kings who built a fortress in one night atop this peak to guard against his enemies. Another story indicates that it was built in 1253 to defend against Mongolian invasion. Regardless of the story, I saw no indication of a fortress or any ruins there. So, with reason, I was quite confused. Nonetheless, the view was spectacular.


I scrambled up to the top of this peak for a spectacular view


Unfortunately, it was another hazy day and the pictures were not as clear as I would have liked them to have been. Having noticed that I hadn't any pictures of myself, I asked a foreign couple to take a couple. They were quite nice about it. I always feel awkward asking Koreans because most of the time, they don't seem to want to talk to me. Unlike in Australia or France, here people don't offer to take pictures of people. As a result, I feel discouraged from asking. Perhaps these are just my perceptions...

Earlier, when I had taken the cable car up the mountain, I spotted a gigantic seated Buddha on the ground beyond the forest. I decided to head there before returning to Sokcho. And what a masterpiece it is! What graceful lines, what a peaceful face. I think I could have stayed there, watching it for hours had I not been quite as tired.

Seated Buddha

Beautiful drinking fountain

I returned to Sokcho and my castle home where I relaxed for a few hours before deciding to have dinner at the Dong Myeong Fish Market. I wanted to eat raw fish but didn't want to return to Daepo. Though I loved Daepo, I wanted a new experience.

The owners of the motel were very helpful and suggested I take a taxi. I must say that the taxi drivers there were really nice people. We had a broken conversation during our 10 minute ride to the port. Was I here alone? Why was I here alone? I explained that I liked to travel alone and that my friends were busy, anyhow. I asked him if he thought that was strange. I knew he did, but I was curious to see how he would answer. "No!" He gave me a thumbs up. I guess he was trying to be encouraging. It was sweet of him.

As I walked towards the fish market I saw a group of fishermen working with the nets they had brought in for the night, wriggling with silver fish. I mustered up the courage to ask whether I could take pictures and was rewarded with a nod and a smile.

Next, I headed over to the main building; it was teaming with tanks of fish, shellfish, squid etc...I walked through, wondering how to go about ordering something for myself. I finally found a woman who looked me in the eye and so told her that I wanted to order some fish. You're alone, she asked. I nodded. She put a couple of fish, a couple of squid and this strange looking bright red and orange ball into a basket. She ushered me inside the building where she handed over the seafood to the women who prepared the food. I paid her 10,000won and watched the women cut, gut and skin my food. It was fascinating. As they they talked in low, serious voices their hands worked with incredible speed and precision, something they could have done with their eyes closed. There was a hardened element to them. I could only imagine being holed up in these little cubicles day after day, gutting fish and returning home with the smells of the ocean clinging to every pore of your skin.

My dinner in progress

The squid they cut by hand, but the fish was passed through a contraption that was like a paper shredder. It was quite interesting. I realized afterward that the fish hadn't been deboned. To my surprise I had to pay these women too. 1,000 won for the lettuce and sauce and 4,000won for the gut and cut.

My prepared meal

I paid and went up to the second floor. There was a restaurant there that served Mae Une Tang, a spicy fishbone soup. Out on the balcony were some tables with an excellent view of the harbour and multicolored lights skipping along the water.
 

This was where I wanted to sit and I was lucky enough to find a table for myself. I settled down, ordered some soju and coke and proceeded to eat my meal. It was quite good, especially the raw squid, but I didn't care for the orange/red thing. It tasted only of the ocean, very strong salt and not much else. I think the raw fish would have been excellent if it hadn't been for the bones. Granted, the bones were so small you just crunched through them, but the fact that I had to crunch raw fish bones was quite bothersome. I ate it anyway. Korean raw fish is eaten in the following way: you take a leaf of lettuce and put some sweet chili sauce on the leaf. You then add the seafood of your choice, wrap the leaf up in a little ball and then pop it in your mouth. It's such a simple combination of things, but surprisingly good. Korean cuisine is fabulous. I don't understand why it hasn't taken over the world with its wonderful flavors.

Before arriving in Korea, I had eaten at two "Korean" restaurants. One in Montreal (Canada), and one in Strasbourg (France). Though they were both good, none of them represented Korean cuisine for what it is. They had adjusted it so much to western sensibilities that they had bastardized it beyond recognition. I believe that if a real Korean-style restaurant was opened in Montreal, it would be an incredible success. I have seen no other cuisine where you can cook your own food - actually participate in creating your meal. It is such a rewarding experience and I really think westerners would love to have such a unique experience. Maybe I should open a Korean restaurant....hmmm. The only problem is that I'm an ideas person. I would need a detail person to work out all the rest (business terms I used in my Level 3 class this week. Forgive me, work always creeps its way in).

Back to the subject at hand. I was having a great time. Granted, I was stared at, but I had gotten use to it. I had a moment where I felt like the moment would have been perfect had Seung Ah and Jong In been there with me. I think we would have spent the whole night laughing at the beauty of where we were and what we were doing, but alone was good too. I decided to have the Mae Une Tang. I had seen a sign that said it cost 3,000won per person and I was pysched. I ordered one and emphasized that I was alone and that I wanted one. The young man nodded and came back 5 minutes later with the soup which you are to cook on an individual burner on your table. He told me that I owed him 6,000won. What?! Why? I had asked for one soup. He saw that I was alone and I had emphasized that fact in case he hadn't noticed. He told me that they only sold the soup for a minimum of two people.

The sign had said for one person, he had heard me say for one person. Why hadn't he explained that to me? I felt...completely drained. I was really upset. Though I love many things about Korea and I'm truly happy to have come here, this is one aspect of Korean culture I will not miss when I leave. No one does anything alone here. If you are alone, you are relegated to either eating at home, or eating at fastfood Korean restaurants. It is as though you don't deserve to eat at regular restaurants. You are punished for being alone in Korea. It is unnatural and therefore not indulged. You are the strange outsider, you shouldn't treat yourself.

The nice little bubble I had been in, burst and I felt utterly deflated.

All I wanted to do at that point was leave. I ate as much of the soup as I could, knowing I would never be able to finish it and then headed back to the hotel. As the cab driver had said, "You're alone? Why?" Why indeed.

The next day was Sunday and I would be leaving at 2:30p.m. I had read that the original Soondubu (soft tofu soup) came from Sokcho so I wanted to try it out. I had had Soondubu in Jeonju last year and it was really good so I was expecting something even greater since this was the home of Soondubu. I found a cab and asked how far it was. I had only managed to leave the motel at 11:30am so I didn't want to go somewhere too far. It would take only 15minutes and about 8,000won.

We headed out there. We were both silent, I guess language was a barrier. When we arrived at a restaurant, I realized that we were quite far away from the city and that it would be difficult to find a taxi back to the city. I asked him about that and he told me that when I finished eating he would come back to pick me up. I was very grateful for his generosity. He gave his cellphone number to the restaurant and they helped me inside. "Are you alone?" they asked. I smiled, "Yes, I'm alone."

I settled down at a large table that could fit 15 people and they brought out the side dishes and the Soondubu. I was really surprised. Where was the soup I had expected? I asked them whether this was the Soondubu. I pointed to a bowl of what looked like cottage cheese. They assured me this was the real thing. There was a little bowl of sauce on the side that I was to add into it for flavor. So I ate it. I was to realize later, from my students, that what I had had in Jeonju was Soondubu stew, whereas what I had in Sokcho was the original Soondubu, pure soft tofu. It was okay. Nothing special.

Original Soondubu

As I think back now, I had two surprises over the weekend with food. Things I thought I knew, I realized I didn't know at all. There are so many variations of food and names in Korea. There is just so much to Korean cuisine. You never run out of choices. I think back to Bangladesh and the curry we had daily, as well as the Dhal. It rarely varied. I don't think Bangla cuisine is very varied. I lived there for almost three months and most of the food had the same taste. They might have used different fish or different meat, but the spices were always the same and therefore the food always tasted the same. Korean food is so incredibly diverse that even after almost 2 years here, I'm still discovering new things. Granted, I'm not in love with everything, but the majority of what I have eaten I love. I will truly miss this food when I leave.

After lunch the taxi driver returned to pick me up. I fully intended for him to charge me double for coming to pick me up and driving me off. He asked me what I thought about my lunch. I tried to explain to him that it was okay, but different from what I expected. I'm not sure he understood. Opening up, he asked me if I was alone.

"Yes, I'm alone."

"Do you not have friends?" he asked with characteristic bluntness that Koreans can have at times. I'm used to it by now.

"I do have friends, but they couldn't come. They had to work." I didn't bother explaining that I wanted to come alone. I don't think he would have understood.

"Are you married?"

"No."

"How old are you?"

"29."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Why not? You're pretty."

"I had a boyfriend, but not anymore. I was going to come here with him, but..." I joined my hands and then separated them to indicate we had broken up.

"I love him," I added, "but he doesn't love me."

"Why?"

"I don't know," I said and gave him a half smile. He had been looking at me from the rearview mirror. And to my horror, tears began to well up in my eyes and my chin began to tremble. I bit down hard to try to stop the movement and thanked God for having my sunglasses on. Perhaps he hadn't seen.

"Well, you will find another boyfriend." He had decided.

"Right now, I don't want one. My heart hurts."

He nodded and rephrased "It hurts" he put his hand on his heart, "doesn't it? It's hard."

I couldn't speak, overcome by emotion in front of this empathic stranger. As the tears slipped down my cheeks, I nodded.

We had arrived at the bus station, but it was only 1:30. He asked me what I wanted to do. I suggested he drop me off at the beach. He nodded and took me there. When he stopped, he indicated that I was to pay only 7,500won. I was touched. He had only charged me for a one-way trip. I gave him a 10,000won bill and asked him to keep it for helping me out. He thanked me and held out his hand. I took it in mine and we shook. I thanked him and walked out.

I went over to the same bench I had sat on earlier that morning before taking the cab to lunch and looked out on the ocean, my tears mixing with the wind. It would soon be time for me to return to my real life.