I have been trying to write about this past weekend when I went to Seroksan National Park at the peak of the leaf-changing, perfect weather, and crowded to the hilt season, but I just can’t seem to find the words. So, I’ll just bite the bullet, and give it one last shot, and just write.

Seroksan is in the far northeast corner of South Korea. The park is over 40, 000 acres of rugged mountains filled with hiking trails, waterfalls, and the mist filled vistas that are so common in Korean folk art. Oh, and hikers–lots and lots of hikers. Think thousands–maybe even tens of thousands. The guide books to Korea will tell you that Koreans love to hike, and they dress in all the proper attire when they do. I felt like a sleeze in my sweatshirt jacket, old black pants, and battered Asics that I wear everyday. Everyone I met on the trail had on the right kind of pants, jackets, walking sticks, backpacks, socks, hats, and boots. And all with brand name logos. I don’t think I had a brand name on me except for my Asics. I guess that’s the difference between dedicated hikers and we weekend sojourners who never make it to the top but have a great time dwaddling along the way, taking pictures, taking rest stops, and taking time to visit with other hikers on the trail.

On the first day, I hiked up to some beautiful rock formations with some gentle waterfall dropping in several layers into green pools of chystal clear water. We started that hike as soon as we got there and got settled into the hotel–about 2:00. The trail was crowded with people, but it was smooth and wide for the first part up. Then it got more narrow and rocky–and even more crowded because you would take the same trail up and down. It’s interesting hiking shoulder to shoulder with men, women, and children going in both directions. Still, I got some great pictures.

The leaves were every shade imaginable for fall foliage. Now that I think back on it and remember that Korea is a newly forested country, that explains why so much of the vibrant color was at eye level. We were surrounded by beauty. It wasn’t just in the high canopy.

Saturday night I had my first experience with a Korean public bath–or spa. Not quite sure how to write about that one with all my puritanical inhibitions, so I’ll just leave that one to the imagination–or not. Needless to say, I didn’t take pictures. Some things posterity just doesn’t need to know!

The second day we got up early to hit the trails before the big rush of hikers came into the park. It was perfect. A few of us hiked the easier trail to another waterfall and were rewarded with having the trail all to ourselves. It was peaceful, quiet, and a bright, sunshiny morning–perfect for some Sunday morning meditating as I walked along. At the first concession stop up the trail, we were met by a lady passing out free samples of mountain berry juice, hoping we would buy some on the way down. As I was walking away, she ran up to me with a walking stick, saying, “Service, service!” which means “free.” For the next couple of hundred yards, I thought it was just a cumbersome burden getting in the way of my picture taking. Then the trail became just rocks, boulders, and steep metal stepped bridges. Man, I was glad I had that walking stick! And yes, I bought a bottle of mountain berry juice on my trip down when I returned the stick!

Our last venture was the cable car to the top of the highest mountain. Another impressive sight to add to my list.

Even the trip home was worth staying awake for. The rice had been harvested and the straw was either laid out in rows to dry or had been bundled and propped up in the field. In some places it had been rolled into round bales and covered in white plastic. Most of the crops are finished, but the cabbages are green as well as some winter root crops. The mountains looked as if they had been stroked with and artist’s brush dipped in golds, rust, and green and then stippled with red. Yes, autumn in all its glory.

(A few pictures on the photo blog if you want to venture there.)

Saturday I went to Itaewon to do some selective shopping. I needed (1) a stockpile of used books for the cold winter months ahead since I’ve read just about everything I have on hand and devoured the books that my friend Sue so kindly sent me, (2) cheese, (3) socks, and (4) a new watch.

First was a stop at What The Book, a book store that has new and used books in English. Because Seoul is such a cosmopolitan city, you can find used books in English from all over the globe at this store. I’ve stumbled on some Australian and New Zealand and Canadian and British and Indian authors that I have really enjoyed. After a few hours of browsing, I left with a heavy grocery sack load that should keep me entertained and thinking for the next few months.

The next stop was the small Indian run grocery store next door where I never know what I will find–and I admit I don’t have a clue what much of it is used for or how it’s eaten. But someone there must make a Costco run every once in awhile because I can get the two pound blocks of cheddar, colby, or monterey jack there that I recognize as their brand. Cheese is hard to come by from my neighborhood grocers, so of course, I crave cheese and crackers when I get home from work. I have found I can cut up the two pound blocks into useable portions and freeze it so it lasts without going mouldy.

Now loaded with a heavy grocery sack full of books and another sack with four pounds of cheese–yes, I remembered the freezing thing and bought two–I went in search of a watch. I wanted a simple watch with numbers I can read, a band that sits comfortably on my wrist, and NO bling. I went to the Hamilton Hotel Shopping Mall which is filled with jewelry, knock-off handbags, Korean souvenirs, clothes, shoes, luggage, etc, etc, etc. I found just the watch I was looking for but at a price I didn’t want to pay–so we haggled and agreed on a price that was just what I had planned to spend. I’m not very good at that kind of thing, so I could probably have gotten it for much less. But to paraphrase Julius Caesar, “I came for it, I saw it, I got it.”

The socks, I found on the street from a vendor. They’re the padded kind with a good arch support, which I need for all the walking I have to do here. Somehow at home I had ended up with three socks. There aren’t too many places to hide in my feng shuied apartment, but I have still managed to lose a sock. I need another pair or two to keep the washing, wearing, losing rotation going.

Now loaded with the heavy grocery sack of books, the four pounds of cheese, the new watch, and the bag of socks, I went to the Hamilton Hotel lobby to meet Dee Ann for dinner. I got there at quarter to four because I couldn’t remember if we were to meet at four or four-thirty. Besides, I had books to read and a watch that could tell time. We found each other while doing the “Where are you?” thing on the cell phones and went in search of a place to eat. Itaewon is notorious for all its international places to eat, so we walked along weighing our options: Inidan? Thai? Belgian? Chinese? Korean? Middle Eastern? Italian? Ethiopian?

We settled on Smokey Saloon, reknowned for its hamburgers and usually difficult to get in to. It only has six or eight tables with absolutely no walking room in between. The whole place is probably 12 x 20 feet big and that includes the kitchen. We stood at the door and saw a table for two empty, took it, ordered, and sat back and ate probably the best hamburger I’ve ever eaten. I didn’t even bother with the bread, the meat was so delicious–ground chuck, no fat, and juicy beyond belief. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. When we left, the line was way out the door and down the street, so I guess our eating there was meant to be.

I had to make an early night of it. Sunday I was getting up early to go on a walking tour of Josun Dynasty palaces. So I trekked on home on the subway, loaded with my heavy grocery sack of books, my four pounds of cheese, my bag of socks, and my new watch–selective shopping at its best.

Believe me, don’t bite a bug. I know from whence I speak. They bite back!

This past weekend, October 10-11, I was on a tour of some of the islands in the far south central tip of Korea. It was a five hour trip to our destination city, Tongyeong, so I had packed a picnic lunch for the noon break. I found a nice little park at the rest stop, with a nice little bench where I could sit and look at the mountains with their changing leaves.

Did you know that Korea is a land of reforestation? It wasn’t too many years ago that there were no trees on the mountains: fire wood had been a major source for heating and cooking for centuries, guerilla terrorists were often burned out when they hid in the hills, and forest fires and centuries of warfare had almost denuded the country of trees. Now the country is lush and green; the trees are young, but growing. I want to know more about how they accomplished this. It truly is amazing. Dr. Adams, our tour guide, pointed out some places where trees had been planted uniformly in rows and the mountain sides looked striped or cornrowed. But that must have been in the early years planting new forests. Now they mostly look quite natural.

Back to biting the bug: I am eating my cheese–make that precious cheese since it’s so hard to come by–sandwich, looking out at the country side, when something just doesn’t feel right. I know I didn’t put raisins in my sandwich, but it sure feels like it. Then the “raisin” starts to move around, frantically. Then I feel like I’m eating glass. Yep, I’ve bitten into a bee who has retaliated by biting my tongue and the soft area under my tongue. IT HURT! I told a few people on the trip so someone would know what was going on if my tongue swelled up and I couldn’t talk and I turned blue and I passed out and . . . . All these scenarious ran through my head. None of those things happened, of course, but IT HURT! I bought a popsicle at the rest stop, but when I licked it, it tasted like plastic. Could a bee sting affect my taste buds too? The more I licked, the more it tasted like plastic. Finally, a little girl and her mother noticed I was licking plastic and showed me how to break off the end of the popsicle and squeeze the real popsicle out of the plastic. Of course, I had to wait for it to melt a little–so I kept licking the plastic and holding it on my sore tongue–because IT HURT!

I nursed my sore tongue for the rest of the day while we explored the shrine of Admiral Yi Sun-shin, one of the great naval strategists and heroes of all time. Check out his Turtle boats on the internet. In 1592 he defeated the Japanese who had him greatly outnumbered using these boats and knowledge of the islands and tides and currents and military strategy. We also visitied his headquarters on Hansan-Do, a beautiful island where he could overlook the bay and train his troops and plan his maneuvers. The training ground for his archers is truly amazing!

My tongue was just about better by the time we stopped for a Korean style dinner of bar-b-qued pork and about twenty side dishes. Bar-b-que here means you cook sliced meat on a charcoal grill at your table, pick it off as it gets to the degree of doneness you like, wrap it in a lettuce or sesame leaf, put a little sauce or kim chi on it, roll it up like a taco and eat it–along with the twenty side dishes. It was delicious. Everything was perfect, except for sitting on the floor. I really have trouble doing that comfortably. And my getting up to standing postion after an hour of sitting is not a pretty sight I’m sure.

Sunday, I’d forgotten all about my tongue. We took a ferry ride through some of the Hallyeo Waterway with it’s rocky little islands protruding from azure water. It reminded my of Capri. I kept waiting for the Korean guide, who was entertaining all who spoke Korean–I could tell because they all laughed and clapped– to break into an operatic baritone any moment.

Our destination was Oe-Do, a tiny island owned by the late Changho Lee and his wife Hosook Choi. This couple turned this rocky island into a beautiful botanical garden filled with plants and sculpture. Following the path through the gardens takes about an hour and a half and is worth every step of the way.

Back on shore, our lunch is again Korean style, sitting on the floor with even more side dishes. The meat and fish are already cooked for us, so no labor is involved, just sit back, eat, enjoy, and try to guess what it is you’re eating. One vegetable that I have really come to enjoy is kind of like brownish sticks cooked tender in sesame oil and soy sauce and sprinkled with sesame seeds. It’s good either hot or cold. One of my fellow travelers told me it is what we call Kudzu in the U.S. I’ll have to check on that.

Our last stop is the site of a Korean War United Nation Prisoner of War camp. It was huge, holding about 170, 000 Chinese, North Korean, and South Korean sympathizers with all the problems that would percolate with so many ethnic and ideological differences. At one time, the military commander, General Dodd, an American, was captured and held hostage by rioting prisoners. They’ve done a good job with this outdoor museum with dioramas, film, replicas, and a few of the shells of the original buildings. I kept looking for Hawkeye Pierce to come walking around a quanset hut, head down and mumbling about the inaneities of war. Another thing I need to learn more about: the Korean War.

Last on the agenda is the five hour bus ride home. It was a beautiful October weekend. The smell and feel of fall is in the air. The rice fields are ripe and golden. Where the rice has been harvested, the fields are brown with rice stalks heaped in small bundles, drying in the fields. Along the roadside you can see rice, light brown and drying, spread out on tarps. On other tarps are red peppers drying, getting ready for their part in the making of kim chi.

When I think of Korea, I will think of that golden yellow intermixed with the blue roofs that predominate in the rural countryside with touches of the red pepper and orange persimmons still hanging on leafless trees. I will think of green hillsides quite recently planted and now splashing with yellows and oranges and reds as the leaves begin to change. I will think of sunsets and morning mists.

But I will also remember what it feels like to bite a bug!

I just had a most interesting evening with three new Korean friends. Maybe I should start at the beginning.

About a month ago I was in the beauty shop getting my steel gray roots to compromise with the rest of my hair. Actually that’s another story that probably should be told.

Ms. Kim has been cutting, dyeing, highlighting my hair since I came to Korea. I am very pleased with her work. The last time I went–before this other last time–she told me that the beauticians had gotten together and decided I should go a little darker. To make a long story short, I now look quite Korean. In fact, I look so Korean I get stopped on the street by Koreans asking directions–at least I think that’s what they’re asking since I don’t speak the language. Their reaction when they see my round face and eyes is always one of eye-widening shock. Back at the beauty shop, when I came out from under the towel and dryer all dark haired, the beauticians crowded around, grinning and clapping, and saying, “You look so much younger!” Actually, that wasn’t one of my goals, but I just keep telling myself “It’s only hair” and besides, I don’t do mirrors anyway.

Back to that month ago–while I was getting my hair done, a lady of about my age struck up a conversation with me in English. We had a nice chat, exchanged cell phone numbers, and talked about getting together for coffee sometime.

Yesterday, Mrs. Kim, the English speaking new acquaintance, called and asked if we could get together on Thursday. I get out of work at 5:00, so I told her I could meet her at Hyundai Department Store by 5:15. What I thought was going to be coffee, turned out to be a delightful evening with Mrs. Kim and two of her friends, Mrs. Han and Mrs. Chou. She had told them she had met an American lady who reminded her of Mrs. Doubtfire–I am choosing to take that as a compliment! They told me they were going to take me to a beautiful island on the Han river. So we got in Mrs. Kim’s Mercedes, and off we went.

We took a very nice stroll along the river and around a small island. Then they took me to a restaurant on the river where we could watch the sunset. Korean style, we all shared a large combination pizza, a delicious tomato based spaghetti, and a very interesting curry. It felt funny not using chop sticks, I’ve gotten so used to it. But best of all, we had interesting conversation.

One of the most difficult things about living in Korea is not speaking the language and not being able to have conversations with the many interesting people I have met. There is so much I want to ask them and want to know, but neither of us usually has the language. Here I was with three interesting ladies who spoke enough English we could talk and laugh and get acquainted.

Mrs. Kim brought fresh fruit for dessert: fresh peaches, peeled and sliced; Concord grapes, ripe and tasting like wine–not just Welche’s grape juice, but real wine. We had this with tea and coffee.

I thought we would walk back to the car, but instead we walked to Banpo Bridge where at 8:00 at night they put on a music, light, and waterfall show from the top of th bridge. The evening was beautiful and the entertainment was perfect. We walked and talked and laughed. It was just a delightful evening.

Thank you Mrs. Kim, Mrs. Han, and Mrs. Chou.