DMZ Day

I am starting at the back end of our Korean road trip, since it's the freshest in my mind, so here goes:

Saturday night we stayed near Sokcho, which is in the north-eastern part of Korea, in Seoraksan National Park. Our motel, Seorak Morning Inn, was cheap and did the job. Semi-efficient floor heating (which, however, did not extend to the bathroom, which was frigid), a TV, and some sketchy looking lotion and hair gel rounded out the place. In the morning, we headed toward Mt. Seorak for a hike, but not before Joe backed our car off the edge of the motel parking lot which was raised up a foot and a half or so off the main road. We were stuck there, front tires spinning fruitlessly and smoking, one back wheel spinning in the air, while the owner's wife motioned frantically and we all tried to piece enough English and Korean together to say something that made any sense. The owner drove up just then, and his wife began shouting "help" over and over to him (strangely enough, in English). Joe, the owner, and the owner's wife managed to push the car away from the ledge and back onto firm ground while I steered. We all laughed with relief and they watched us drive away, waving and smiling until we were out of sight. (In Joe's defense, he says there was an optical illusion involving the car, the rear view mirror, and the parking lot. Hmm.)

With the smell of burning rubber in our nostrils we headed toward Mt. Seorak for our hike. If I haven't said it yet, I'll say it now: Koreans seem to be obsessed with hiking and, more importantly, hiking outfits. It doesn't matter if their intent is to take a leisurely stroll down to the market or to scale a rock face--they are outfitted to the hilt. Fanny packs, titanium walking sticks, fuschia and purple coats and hats, hiking masks, crampons, ginormous backpacks stuffed with who knows what, gloves, sunglasses, and so on. They are prepared. Except sometimes it seems what they are mostly prepared for is hiking about 1 mile and then unloading 5 bottles of soju and getting loaded next to a stream. One thing is for certain: Koreans do not seem to have the same views about hiking as many Americans do, namely that hiking is for peace, silence, and being healthy. Koreans are boisterous, loud (I've seen many a hiker blasting music from their fanny packs or talking on cell phones), and happy to get drunk on the trail. Anyhoo, we parked our car and were overtaken by the hoardes of geared-up Koreans as we walked toward the park entrance.

Seoraksan National Park is one of the most beautiful places I have been in Korea. Maybe anywhere. It rivals Yosemite with its picturesque rock formations, waterfalls, and foliage. Also, thrown in for good measure is a 60-foot bronze Buddha and Sinheungsa temple. We opted for a less-populated hike toward a frozen waterfall. It was lovely. The park is startling beautiful, and it's a bummer we didn't have more time to spend there, especially since this was probably the least populated time of year to visit. Side note: we learned that because of the amount of people that visit the park and hike there, many trails have had to be closed to recover and recuperate. We saw one trail sign that said that particular trail would be closed until 2026. Insane. I wasn't sure how I felt about this. Obviously it's awesome that so many people want to explore nature, but also obviously, they are destroying it. With their designer boots and flashy hiking sticks. I digress.

We left Seoraksan National Park and headed the few miles into Sokcho, a fairly large seaside town, which is famous for, yes, you guessed it, its seafood, and the fact that ferries to Vladivostok, Russia leave from there. We headed to Daepo Port for some seaside stall food. We got fried octopus, shrimp, peppers, and a kind of sausage the area is known for which is made with squid stuffed with clear glass noodles, rice, vegetables, and squid tentacles (also fried). We only stayed a short while at the port, since it was freezing and the DMZ called to us.

We headed north up coastal road 7 toward the Goseong Unification Observatory where you are able to observe North Korea in the distance. To get there, we had to register at a check point and then show our form to guards standing sentry at another check point further along. It was a bit surreal. About 60km south of the observatory, the feeling of the country seemed to shift. Whether this shift was due to our own realization that we were getting closer to North Korea or to the increased military presence, the beaches sectioned off with barbed wire, or the Korean tank traps, I'm not sure. Regardless, things got strange. The Goseong Unification Observatory is stark in its construction, and the architecture seems military minded, which, of course, it probably is. The observatory itself has seen better days, but the surrounding grounds were lovely, even in the dead of winter with snow blowing about. The observatory building is filled with goods for sale made in North Korea--wine, chocolates, socks, whiskey, children's toys, and unidentifiable bags of herbs and roots. Once we walked through the shop and past the old lady pushing her "gold" key chains, we walked out onto the observatory deck, where there were two rows of binocular posts. You can pay 500 won (about 45 cents) to see North Korea in the not-so-distant distance. Since it was snowy and foggy, and since we had no money on us, we opted to look through Joe's zoom lens on his camera instead. I'm not sure what to say about this. It was weird. Even though we couldn't see people or movement over in North Korea, there was still something very solemn and eerie about looking over there. Something mysterious and sad. The barbed wire, the old trenches and bunkers, the two sentries patrolling the beach below--all of it was strange in a way that I didn't know strange existed. The fact that you could take your picture with North Korea in the background and have it put on a pillow or a mug as a souvenir kind of blew my mind too. It seemed kitschy, when the utmost solemnity seemed more appropriate.

From there, we visited the two museums nearby--the 6-25 Museum and the DMZ Museum. Both were great, but the DMZ Museum was amazing. The exhibits did their best to place you as a participant in the events of the day. It was more than hands on--it was deeply involving. And because it is the dead of winter and because we arrived at the museum 20 minutes before closing, we were the only two people in the exhibits, which made the experience even more intense.

After turning in our temporary pass to the guards at the check point, we headed back south and drove six hours toward home through the persistent snow.