Sabbatical Maps - New Zealand and Australia

These maps might give a sense of where I've gone, for the geographically oriented among you.  The color coding is just Google indicating traffic.

New Zealand Route:

Australia Route: large scale map for orientation, detailed maps with place names:

Sabbatical VXII – The Final 31 Hour Day

Wednesday June 26 – Last morning in Seoul.  I clean the apartment, including an expedition to the recycling/trash depot on sublevel 4.  The attendant is delighted to take my debris.

Somehow fit all my stuff back in my bag.  I didn’t buy a lot in Korea, but still, it seems tight.  Feels heavier too, but then I haven’t picked it up for a while.

Still feeling a bit run down.  I’m drinking lots (including a Japanese equivalent of Gatorade, called Pocari Sweat -not recommended) and taking my anti-cold herbal supplement.  No matter how I feel, I’m having a day, going to Incheon, and going home.

While I am looking forward to having a rest in familiar surroundings, I am also sad at the end of this trip.  If I had a next stop, and it was a serious few days of R&R, I could keep going.  But I’m not.  I planned what felt like enough, in terms of experiences, time, and costs.  Plus I have a family reunion to get to in Oregon after I get home.

So goodbye to the Kings Garden.  I have time, so one final experience, visit a jjimjilbang: a traditional Korean spa.  Onto the subway, two transfers later I arrive at Yongsan station.  A major nexus with the national train system:

I’d decided to go to the Dragon Hill Spa.  It was near Yongsan, it seemed foreigner-friendly, and it had a gonzo variety of things to try. 

I drag my bag to the entrance, past tacky Chinese statuary, an artificial stream and bamboo grove, and along irregularly laid wood blocks.  It’s so overdone that I’d run away if it weren’t for the many positive recommendations.  The interior is even more crammed with about five too many of every time of Chinese good luck and health symbol.  This lack of restraint is very unusual for Seoul, but I persist. 

Store my bags.  12,000 won gets me a key, electronic bracelet and spa clothing (shirt and shorts).  First task: store my shoes in the right locker.  I find it, but the key is square – it fits in the lock four ways.  Well, I try four times, and it finally works. 

Elevator to the men’s floor.  Find my locker.  Third try works.  First step is to get clean.  Like Japanese onsen, jjimjilbang cleaning stations (showers or stools) and hot tubs are used in the buff.  Doesn’t bother me.  Clean, over the next hour I try five different temperatures and flavors of hot tub – more than the average onsen.  In between soaks, I take cold soaks, which keeps me awake. 

Soggy, I get dry and put on my Dragon Hill costume, which almost fits:

Fifteen minutes in a massage chair.  Good.

I leave the men’s floor (yes, there is also a women’s floor) and try out the saunas and the ice room.  I’m relaxed, so a nap in the communal sleeping room.  Just a space full of mats, sparsely occupied in the middle of the day.  Then finally, a real massage.  Ouch.  My masseur seems intent on making my shoulders relax. 

Three and a half hours have passed quickly.  No time to use Dragon Hill’s gym, outdoor swimming pool, video game arcade, restaurants, or get a pedicure.  A plane to meet, so back to Yongsan and a 75 minute train ride to Incheon International Airport.  This is tons easier than the bus. 

Goodbye to luggage.  I had bought an upgraded ticket, so hello to the Asiana Airlines Business Class lounge, where I proceed to eat myself into a post -spa, end of trip stupor.  Not really, I’m too wired before flying to get sleepy.  But good food, good wireless, not awful coffee.  Lots of fluids. 

Eventually, a plane:

A new Airbus 350-900.  Priority boarding, lots of leg room.  Nine seats wide in my class.  This is so worth the extra cost. 

Take off roll, and we begin the 11 hour flight to SFO.

 

The plane is kept dark.  I sleep fitfully once my body realizes it’s going to be in a seat for a long time.  A decent Korean dinner of ssambap (with instructions on how to assemble the ingredients):

Sleep, or not. 

I’m a little put off by the plane and the flight attendants.  The whole vibe feels kind of formal and overly organized.  I flew exactly the same kind of plane on Singapore Airlines; the décor and seats on this Asiana plane are less comfortable – for one, the headrests don’t move up as high.  Singapore is my favorite airline, so I admit to possible bias.  Maybe it’s the tan color scheme as well.  The attendants do their jobs well, but some of them seem vaguely put out at having to provide service during the flight.  No question it’s a first class operation well deserving of its very high ratings, but maybe I’ll try Korean Airlines next time. 

Sleep, or not, more.  After a Korean breakfast, I use my upgrade toothbrush.  Bliss.

There is land, finally. A sense of descent and a broad turn:

Almost there, then touchdown.  Hello to baggage.  I blink and customs is done.  No beeping attachments.  A real cold brew coffee. 

BART seems small and dark compared to Seoul.  I think the cars really are smaller; most of the system is certainly older than the lines I rode in Korea.  In my one car, I see more Latinx than I recognized during my whole trip. 

Walk home.  

I am done - for now. 

Sabbatical XVI – More Seoul - History, Tech, DMZ, Art

Monday June 24 – Deep sleep, there’s no way I’m not dehydrated.  Certainly sore from the glutes on down.

What to do today?  I had figured on a hike in Bukhansan National Park north of Seoul.  Reachable by subway, and a chance to get out of the city and into some nature.  But I’m too tired to think straight.  Avoiding the issue, I fall back asleep after breakfast while trying to decide what to do. 

Awake again, I look outside.  The clear sky of the weekend has been replaced by a muggy hazy overcast.  It’s still hot, but visibility is down.  This plus the time makes for an easier choice, or perhaps avoidance of choice – Bukhansan for another visit.

Clean, dressed, to the subway, en route to Yongsan and the National Museum of Korea. I looked at the website before I went – all the galleries have online VR previews.  Cool.

It’s clearly the work week, people in business clothes. 

Ichon Station and another reason I like Korea – there’s a direct, clearly signed portal leading to the museum grounds.  Lunch, and into the museum, which like all the public museums, is free.  A big, modern space, outside and inside:

The interior building stone for the floors and walls isn’t granite, it’s a very nice fossiliferous limestone.

The Museum covers Korean history to 1910, and Asian Art with an emphasis on Korea.  It’s interesting that it stops in 1910: the start of the Japanese occupation.  Well, that did pretty much disrupt Korean society, and I expect its modern incarnation is feels rather isolated from its history.  The culture definitely jumped the tracks after the ceasefire.

Ok, I can do this.  I start with Prehistory and work my way forward in time.  The exhibits are excellent, expanding on what I learned at the Seoul History Museum and the National Folk Museum.  As before, it’s at a more detailed level than I want to absorb.  I suppose being Korean and coming here is like being American, being taught American History (I assume this is still done) and then touring to the Smithsonian Museum of American History.  It enhances the broad timeline you’ve already learned or vaguely remember.  I read the signage and examine the artifacts that interest me.

Who knew that there were Paleolithic petroglyphs in Korea:

Why wouldn’t there be?  Just my ignorance.  

As I tour the history exhibits, the general progression articulated – and it is definitely advancement – is no surprise.  Paleolithic hunter/gatherers with stone tools to Neolithic crude metalworking and agriculture to Bronze Age cultures (protokingdoms) to the various increasing levels of organized and complex societies that flourished and failed in Korea through the early 20^th century.  Sounds kinda like every other first world national history I’ve learned.  Hmmm.  I’m also a little skeptical of the consistently positive evolution that is implicit in the exhibits.  Is this my mind organizing things, or Korean historical/cultural bias/national mythology?  Things must have been a lot messier, at minimum given the hundreds of times Korea was invaded, or the internal numerous dynastic conflicts that took place.  Anyway, the collection is outstanding.  Here are National Treasures 191 and 192, a gold crown and girdle from the 5^th century Silla period:

Wow, that was just the first floor, still two floors of art above me.  Since this is a civilized museum, there is a café on each floor.  I have what’s arguably the best Americano of my trip on level 2 and push on.  Through Calligraphy (too little) and Painting (great stuff, but too dim) including a powerful 11 x 7 m Buddhist painting.  I have to sit and feel the energy of this for a while.  This stonework counted as calligraphy:

Level 3: Asian Arts, including metalwork, ceramics, and sculpture.  Like level 2, the emphasis is on Korean materials, which is fine by me.  I take random photographs of pieces I like.  A bronze rain gauge:

Ornamental brickwork:

My favorite lacquered box:

A Joseon dynasty tray:

More Buddha:

Finally, ceramics.  These galleries are arranged by ceramic style – white porcelain, bucheong ware, and celadon -  which would probably mean something to me if I had ever taken art history.  As with the rest of the museum collections, the display pieces are superb.  I’ve never seen bucheong ware before, and I really like it; it’s a uniquely Korean style, so there’s lots of it.  My favorite jar:

Sorry, celadon has never appealed to me, so no pictures.  But there was also a small exhibit of black ceramics, which I like as well:

Enough art and history for one day, so on to the 21^st century.  Some of you may have heard of the Gangnam district of Seoul, made famous by a certain K-pop video that I have never seen, OK?  Really.  Gangnam is south of the Han River, a short subway ride from Yongsan.

Gangnam is known for its Korean nightlife, but I went there in order to 1) say I’d set foot in district and 2) go to Samsung D’light.  D’light is basically an Apple store that has taken lots of performance enhancing drugs.  A showcase for the current and future tech that Samsung hopes to sell to us.  If you are all worried about the coming technological singularity, when the machines/AI take over, this is not your place.  Picture and name appear above check in:

A pretty global attendance.

Anyway, it was a fun interactive experience.  I get a wristband which triggers a series of interactive experiences around the theme of “Live Your Tomorrow”.  Here’s what it told me I am:

My preferred future:

You can decide.  Note that everything was in English.  I don’t remember choosing a preferred language, but I expect this changes appropriately.

Sufficiently inspired, I proceed upstairs to the future technology showcase, such as this giant curved 8K monitor:

Would not fit in my house.

 

The coolest bit of this was a series of AR (augmented reality) demonstrations of Samsung’s internet of everything lifestyle of the future.  At each point, you picked up a tablet, and it showed a short video of a family living in a totally connected house.  The video view changed as you moved the tablet around.  For example, in the picture below, you can see the real white kitchen in the background and the virtual one (with mom making dinner) on the tablet. 

An interesting vision, but no, I’m keeping my house as unwired as possible. 

The bottom floor of D’light was the store (I wasn’t shopping: Korea runs on 220V).  Computers, phones, monitors, appliances, and best of all massage chairs, where I took a badly needed 15 minute break.  I almost fit in the chair.  I’d get one of these if it did a better job on the legs.

Enough for one day.  Subway home. 

Here’s a digression on the Seoul subway.  As I wrote in an earlier post, the system has over 340 km of track and 22 different lines – about three times the size of the BART system in California.  The annual number of rides is some insane number in the low billions (10x-20x BART).  Several major stations integrate with the national train system, and there are stations at Gimpo and Incheon International Airports.

The system map is basically spaghetti:

Overwhelming, but I had a killer Seoul Subway app which gave me route planning, told me which direction to go at each station, when to transfer, the number of stops to ride, and other making-me-more-secure information.  The signage and maps in every station, in Hangul, Chinese, and English, were also excellent: very necessary as every one of my trips required one or more transfers.  Sometimes this required a good half kilometer walk – the app estimated walking time (but did not include time for dodging Koreans in a hurry or getting lost).  This video gives a feel for the subway experience.  I bought a T Card as in the video, much easier than single ride tickets.  All the trains and stations also have free 5G wireless:

The subway is very civilized.  Clean.  No music or food noticeable.  All the trains were the same length.  Floor signage made clear where the doors would open¸ every time.  No pushing/shoving to get on or off.  Reserved seating for the elderly/infirm/etc.  If you sat there without these characteristics, you got the snake eye.  There were also seats specifically for pregnant women: almost always empty, except on the lines where a small stuffed animal of indeterminate species further reminded you not to sit there:

People were helpful, more than once I was almost led by the hand to where I needed to go.  All the trains had real-time announcements and signs (eventually in English).  After initial, whoa, this is huge, I felt very comfortable riding around.

Many stations were multi-level and were deep underground.  This may have been to get into the consolidated alluvium which must underlie Seoul, or even into the bedrock.  I wonder if this was an engineering or defense decision, or both.  There was also a lot of space for stores and vendors selling pretty much everything you might want to buy or eat.  Clean restrooms.  Worryingly, a lot of emergency stations with fire extinguishers, first aid, and many, many gas masks:  

Tuesday June 25 – A better rest, but my body feels achy today.  I will assume this is cumulative exhaustion from three days in Seoul with my finger on the fast forward button, rather than an illness.  It better be; among my decisions yesterday was signing up for a tour of the DMZ.

Yes, that DMZ.  One can only visit on an organized tour, for obvious reasons, like getting shot or stepping on a land mine.  This is a day trip from Seoul: the DMZ is at most 40 km away.  That’s well within range of all kinds of bad stuff if the war ever resumes. 

At 8 am I presented myself at lobby of the Four Seasons Hotel (near the Kings Garden) to meet my tour guide.  Dissonance; a brief step out of Seoul and into five star international hotel vibe.  A number of other tourists and tour guides trying to find each other.  The staff seem used to this as a rendezvous point.

Pretty much on time, Shiny appears and homes in on me.  I join her, our driver, and six other tourists in a minivan.  As we start the hour plus drive to the DMZ, Shiny (who I gauge at late 20s-early thirties, moderate winsome princess style) explains that her name comes from her surname of Shin, anglicized for fun.  She gives us interesting background on the Korean War, the DMZ, and most poignantly, what this meant to Koreans.  Here family was from the north, and her generation is fully out of touch with their family there.

Traffic fades with distance from Seoul.  All that’s left on the road are our minivan, other minivans, and several dozen busses.  Going to the DMZ is a thing.  We pull into a massive parking lot, where we will board a bigger bus for the rest of tour. This stop is to overlook the Reunification Bridge; where families met for a time before the current tensions:

Many reminders of the pain of separation:

Shiny in action:

We proceed to the Dorasan train station.  South Korea built this to be a real functional stop on a future rail line to North Korea and ultimately China, Asia, and Europe:

Don’t buy your tickets yet.  The roads on the map were briefly functional when South Korea operated an industrial zone just across the DMZ.  All shut now. 

Dorasan is a bit creepy; a real station, but just tour groups now:

And aspirational artwork:

A real train that got shot to bits during the Korean War. 

The idealized future.

I like Shiny’s approach.  She’s funny and sweet.  At each stop, she gives us an overview and her recommendations of what to prioritize, as well as logistics like where the bathrooms are and how much time we have.  Then she turns us loose to poke about independently.  I do wonder if she is required to adhere to a specified point of view when it comes to the politics of the DMZ; reunification is presented as this glorious, desirable, inevitable future, no mention of future war, moderate glorification of Korean leaders (all men).  

Here’s one of the several reunification sculptures I saw.  Popular for selfies.

On the bus, into forest.  Shiny tells us that there are over 2 million land mines on the land around us.  We cross a rather mundane blue stripe on the road.  We are now in the DMZ.  We go to the Dora Observatory for a look at North Korea.  The weather was still hazy, and it was near midday, so the photographic conditions were crap, but I try anyway:

The DMZ is the wooded area in the foreground.  Shiny told us that you can tell where North Korea starts because the trees vanish across the river (center of picture).  Cut for fuel.

Final stop is the “Third Infiltration Tunnel”, one of the several dozen passageways that have been discovered:

Mannequins.  The tunnels go south, as you might expect.  We get to walk 73 m underground and into it (no pictures allowed): 

It’s almost funny.  Here I am in a long single file line of people going down a 20% grade access tunnel, to walk through this tight tunnel that North Koreans blasted through the granite bedrock.  It’s well-lit with plenty of ventilation, but tight enough that it would not be good if I were at all claustrophobic.  We have to wear hard hats, which is good as I hit mine regularly on the low ceiling.  I have to crouch most of the distance.  Groundwater drips.  We come to the turnaround, and for a few seconds get to peer through the small window in the first of several thick walls blocking the tunnel.  OK, we are almost in North Korea, but this long walk for this?  It meets the Weta test for sure.  I also enjoy the stiff climb back up the access tunnel; this counts as exercise.

Back on the bus, back to our minivan, and back to Seoul.  I fall asleep.  We are dropped off at the Seoul City Hall (a major subway nexus).  Goodbye to Shiny.

I am tired, but I promised myself one more stop, so I subway to Itaewon.  This district might be familiar; it was where the big US Army base was until a decade or so ago.  Still full of foreigners.  I’m going there to see the Leeum Samsung Museum of Art: 

Highly recommended in my guidebooks.  For 11,000 won, I get admission and an audio tour: a Samsung phone with earpiece.  The audio tour is by far the best I’ve ever followed.  Instead of overlying long pedantic signage, every artwork has audio interpretation (with additional text); just enough to understand what you are seeing.  Better yet, the audio starts automatically as I pause in front of each piece.  Brilliant. 

No photography.  Museum 2 is three floors of modern art with themes of “Beyond Boundaries”, On Abstraction” and “Toward Expression”.  Korean and international artists.  Oh. My. God.  I have never been a gallery where every piece is a home run, much less brilliantly juxtaposed with works by other artists.  I don’t like everything, but it’s impossible not to be moved by such masterpieces.

Done, I breath deeply and go to Museum 1, which shows Korean art up through 1910, similar to the National Museum.  Oh. My. God.  I thought the material in the National Museum was good, this is better.  Not a lot of works, but enough to fully communicate artistry, evolution, and brilliance.  There is more bucheong ware, which I like even more.  Further, a few modern works are here, set to complement the traditional art.  There is an arrangement of bucheong ware set by a Rothko painting that almost makes me weak at the knees.  Or this might be fatigue. 

Done.  The Leeum wins, game, set, match.  Heaps above any other collection I’ve seen, due to brilliant curation. 

I’m done too.  Subway.  A CU dinner.  Laundry, sort gear, pack.