Or, for those who can read 한글, “추석 in 설악산”
Done showing off now. Plus, I don't have the handy little stickers on my keyboard to find the Korean letters, so it's kind of time-consuming to type in Hangeul.
So, Chuseok is the Korean Thanksgiving. Every Korean family comes together at the 'big father's house' (this must be a direct translation – it means eldest paternal uncle of the family) to exchange gifts and money and pay respects to their ancestors. There's special food, shops are overrun by gift sets (including artfully displayed tins of spam. I kid you not.) and a great deal of tv is watched. So it's not so different from major holidays in the West really. I've asked all my classes what they did for the holiday: most of them play computer games (not so different from any other weekend!) and said their mothers do a lot of cooking. One student only finished with everything today (the main holiday was on Saturday) because his father is the 'big father' and they have a lot of ancestors. Tough break for the kid – he looked exhausted. Another girl was left at home because she slept in and her parents left without her. I have no idea what to make of that story! I even got a gift from my adult class: a bottle of Blue Nun. Score!
We were lucky to have Thursday off, as that meant we were able to miss most of the infamous Chuseok traffic jams. We set off obscenely early on Thursday morning to catch a bus at 7:10 (AM! A! M!) We chose the 'Intercity Bus-uh' as the 'Express-uh Bus-uh' left from a terminal way on the other side of Daegu. This meant that our journey would take 8 hours in total, in contrast with the speedy return last night, which clocked in at just 4 and a half hours. That being said, the bus was typically comfortable and spacious, and the bus driver was really very nice. If a little unable to drive stick shift, or indeed remember when to reverse. I am becoming accustomed to this sort of thing, but it is always a little more nerve-wracking in such a large vehicle! On the way, Anne and I had a typical Korean stew with some kind of beef and an egg. Yes, a just-barely-coddled egg. I not only ate it - I liked it. I am really beginning to doubt myself about the whole 'I hate egg' thing.
On the way into Sokcho, we passed almost a mile of racks hung with drying squid by the side of the road. Dried seafood seemed to be the town's passion. You'll note the photo of the street lamp decorated with a squid motif. The first afternoon was the only time I really wandered around the town, and the smell of this stuff really did not sit well with me. I try to be open minded about food, but a dried fish split down the middle, with dessicated guts still clinging on? No. Sorry, but eugh. Fortunately, Sokcho is really a nice little seaside town and and we found our way up to a cute little pagoda. This being Korea, a few locals were there hanging out with a bottle of soju. Though it is similar in strength and ridiculously cheap, soju has none of the unpleasant – or underage - connotations of a bottle of Buckfast. I've seen plenty of hammered Koreans, but no aggression so far. They seem to just go for it until their mate has to give them a piggy back home.
Dinner was a simple galbi buffet (as much meat as you can eat for 7,000 won or ₤3.50) followed by an episode of Blackadder and an early night at our cheap and very cheerful hostel. The owner had given us a good chat about what there is to do in the area when we checked in, and confirmed that it was indeed possible to get up Daecheongbong (the highest peak in Seoraksan National Park – and third highest in Korea) in one day. We had unanimously agreed that would be our task for the next day, and planned to leave at 6:20 the next morning.
By some miracle, we all dragged ourselves out of bed before 6am for the second day in a row, and made it to the first bus after a rushed breakfast. Another crazy bus driver made sleep impossible on the way to Osaek, and we were kicked off somewhat further away from the start of the trail than we expected, but we were given English maps at the ranger station, and started our way up before 8am. I was already bloody impressed with us.
The hike to the summit was only 5km, with 1,300m of ascent, and an estimated time of 4 hours. If you've done any walking at all, or indeed any maths, you will have an inkling of how painful those 4 hours were. The three boys in the group quickly zoomed off on their longer, stronger legs, leaving me and Anne to channel the spirit of the Tortoise, and keep going through several pain barriers. Lovely trees and promise of beautiful scenery (and, for me at least, a bagged hill!) provided motivation through several hundred stairs.
I won't delve too deeply into my impressions of Korean hiking just now (lest this post turn into an essay of unwieldy proportions) but it really is not the same as hillwalking in Scotland. This is not wilderness by any stretch of the imagination. There are staircases and walkways everywhere – and swarms of people. People with a crap load of branded hiking gear. As one of our group said, 'Mountains are Korea's catwalks'.
I reached the summit around half an hour after the boys, and Anne was not far behind. The summit itself was actually not that impressive. The views were quite hazy, and we were almost too high to really appreciate the surroundings. We restocked water supplies at the shelter (more like a hostel than a bothy) and began our trek back. As on the ascent, there were hundreds of stairs, which allowed us an easy descent into the valley. The views quickly went from just good to breathtakingly magical. This is not hyperbole: there were many points along the trail where everyone in the group gasped at the scenery. Without wishing to bang on about it, my photos don't nearly capture it, and I have never seen anything quite so majestic and awe-inspiring. It blew the socks off anything I've seen in Scotland – and I do not say that lightly! Oh, and the rock. There was lovely rock everywhere. Like a giant playground of rock just begging to be climbed. I have a feeling I will be back to Seoraksan before this year is done.
After dawdling over photos, we realised that the walk out was much longer than the walk up and we would need to press on if we were to have any chance of getting out before dark. While I did have a head-torch, and the path was good, it was a concern and two of the boys trundled on ahead in an effort to avoid any night-time walking. Mark and I stayed back with Anne to make sure we all got back ok - I was definitely grateful to move a little more slowly by this point! - and we all made it down before sunset.
As well as the views, the other highlight of the hike was that I used a map. Actually, I used two: a trail map in English, and a proper one with contours in Korean. I may not have known where we were at every point, but my directions were accurate when needed, and provided confirmation when we weren't sure. It was a really good feeling to be the one navigating, even if it was just on trails.
After much-needed showers, we headed out for dinner (American this time), and a beer at Sokcho's only foreigner bar, more of which in Part Deux!
Day four was indeed a difficult one to start. Mark was first up, and his excellent door knocking skills got the rest of us to the hostel kitchen for a fairly messy attempt at breakfast. Anne was the only one untouched by the evil hand of drink, but we all found ourselves on a bus by 10am. Our view from the hostel window also helped inspire abandonment of duvets.
We wobbled our way to the cable car, and took the alarmingly speedy journey up. The entire trip in the cable car took only 5 minutes, and it was fast enough to make my ears pop (I have a feeling I am rather more sensitive to this than other people...) We'd been reliably informed that you could go up to the top of the hill from there, but every step was agony, and I definitely thought I would not be going any higher. Anne went on ahead to investigate, phoned a mere 10 minutes later to say it really was easy, and so we all made our way up. 
The path was indeed easy, but finished up at a little nobble of rock, which looked lovely to scramble on. Indeed it was clearly popular with the dozens of people already swarming over it. It was steep, but by far the most dangerous thing was scrambling in close proximity to so many people who have no idea what they're doing – including a woman in heels. Despite the press of people, those few minutes of scrambling really undid my hangover. On the way down, I was informed through gesture that I really should hold on to the rope else as it was not safe. The 'rope' being rather tatty, attached at only one end, with 5 people already hanging on and swinging it about. I attempted to indicate that my solid hold on the rock was preferable, but the helpful chap still felt that he should grab my shoulder, as I clearly did not know what to do. Oh dear.
After the trip back down, all the excitement inspired Steve to sit in a stone bowl. There was a lot of banter and not a lot of movement for quite some time, but we eventually settled on an easy walk to Biryeon waterfalls after Mark headed back to town to catch his bus home. Steve and George were doing well to avoid their hangovers by way of hair of the dog, and the four of us made quite a motley crew, but we made it safely and merrily to the falls. 
Again, my photos do not do justice to this delightful valley, nor can they capture the restorative effect of walking through dappled sunlight in good company. A quick dangle of feet in startlingly cold water was also a real wake up after all the walking (and not quite enough washing...!) We interrupted our tramp back at the two outdoor restaurants for beer and pajeon (Korean potato pancake). There was also a very funny incident involving a Korean understanding rather more English than anticipated. Good times.
Being sore from the previous day, we decided on a short walk up to Heundeulbawi ('Teetering Rock'), with a possible extension of the walk up to Ulsanbawi. I think the walk was around 3km in total, but again, we had not quite appreciated how steep it would become. Up to Heundeulbawi, the trail was easy and scenic, taking in a walk past the giant Buddha statue and temple and through some woods. The rock itself was smaller than I'd expected, and it does seem improbable that it hasn't yet been knocked off. Anne and I decided that we'd best not try to push it over - I remain convinced that, had we tried, our waegukin strength would have toppled the boulder and ruined everyone else's fun. 
Unsurprisingly, a steep metal staircase up a cliff is actually more scary on the way down, but it certainly was quick, and we were soon back in Sokcho enjoying a cheap and tasty bowl of chinese noodles for dinner. (I'm assured that this particular dish is about as common in China as chicken tikka masala is in India.) After so much hiking, an evening of beers seemed in order. Off we trotted to the local foreigner bar where punters can choose whatever tunes they fancy from the laptop in the corner. It was more like a house party than a bar – no bad thing! This was the same place a couple of us checked out on the first night, and the atmosphere both evenings was very friendly. From chatting with the local expats (can you be a local expat?) I think this might have had something to do with living next to a beach AND the most beautiful national park in Korea. If you had to put up with having only one local bar, you'd want it to be this one.
On the way into Sokcho, we passed almost a mile of racks hung with drying squid by the side of the road. Dried seafood seemed to be the town's passion. You'll note the photo of the street lamp decorated with a squid motif. The first afternoon was the only time I really wandered around the town, and the smell of this stuff really did not sit well with me. I try to be open minded about food, but a dried fish split down the middle, with dessicated guts still clinging on? No. Sorry, but eugh. Fortunately, Sokcho is really a nice little seaside town and and we found our way up to a cute little pagoda. This being Korea, a few locals were there hanging out with a bottle of soju. Though it is similar in strength and ridiculously cheap, soju has none of the unpleasant – or underage - connotations of a bottle of Buckfast. I've seen plenty of hammered Koreans, but no aggression so far. They seem to just go for it until their mate has to give them a piggy back home. 
The hike to the summit was only 5km, with 1,300m of ascent, and an estimated time of 4 hours. If you've done any walking at all, or indeed any maths, you will have an inkling of how painful those 4 hours were. The three boys in the group quickly zoomed off on their longer, stronger legs, leaving me and Anne to channel the spirit of the Tortoise, and keep going through several pain barriers. Lovely trees and promise of beautiful scenery (and, for me at least, a bagged hill!) provided motivation through several hundred stairs.
I reached the summit around half an hour after the boys, and Anne was not far behind. The summit itself was actually not that impressive. The views were quite hazy, and we were almost too high to really appreciate the surroundings. We restocked water supplies at the shelter (more like a hostel than a bothy) and began our trek back. As on the ascent, there were hundreds of stairs, which allowed us an easy descent into the valley. The views quickly went from just good to breathtakingly magical. This is not hyperbole: there were many points along the trail where everyone in the group gasped at the scenery. Without wishing to bang on about it, my photos don't nearly capture it, and I have never seen anything quite so majestic and awe-inspiring. It blew the socks off anything I've seen in Scotland – and I do not say that lightly! Oh, and the rock. There was lovely rock everywhere. Like a giant playground of rock just begging to be climbed. I have a feeling I will be back to Seoraksan before this year is done.