cherry blossom festival 2011

This is my third spring in Korea, and each year, the cherry blossoms are the emblem which signifies that winter has officially left. That doesn't mean that the cold weather is entirely absent from this icy country, but it is definitely on its way out.  This year, we had planned to meet up with friends in Seoul for some bike riding around Yeoido Park, however once we got there, and realized that every single Korean had the same idea, we decided to lay low and just enjoy the fresh air.  It was delightful to just sit and watch the masses of Koreans biking, running, putting out fires in a trash bin, or whatever their chosen activity of the day.  And of course we took beaucoups of photos.

sitting at the park.  Look at my purple feet.

Kyle was trying for a cartwheel.  It wasn't so great!

Cherry Blossom trip (part 2)

If you read part 1, part 2 will make much more since :)

We found the lake without too much hassle and it was delightful and even had blooming cherry blossoms. However, once again we took the wrong way turn around the lake and discovered, that bikes were not allowed in the commercial area: Our solution, ice cream. Ice cream solves everything.

After the lake the plan was to head home. According to our map, it should have only taken an hour. Of course, we went the WRONG way again, because evidently having a Korean with us, access to a map on an iphone and an ill-proportioned map did little to insure that we actually took the right turn. Our mistake unfortunately was extremely painful, and as penance by the God of Maps, we were forced to climb the never-ending hill. And by never ending, I mean that we were at least climbing for thirty minutes-to an hour. I don't actually remember as I lost consciousness and allowed my body do all the work while my spirit floated above laughing at our struggle.

The ride lasted forever, and once we arrived at the hostel, five minutes after 7pm, I thought I might topple over. My bum ached as if it had had the beating of it's life, and I dreaded another day of riding on that hard bicycle seat.

At dinner, I could hardly keep my eyes open, and by 10:30pm I was sound asleep.

This is a crazy building we saw on the wicked hard hill. In case you can't tell, it has a giant hole in the middle in the shape of a traditional tower. Kinda weird looking, very expensive, very Korean!

Sunday, after nine hours of zzzzz's, I woke refreshed all except for my bum. I understand now, the purpose of those butt padded shorts. Had I known the pain I would be in every time I sat that I couldn't help but making a pained noise, I would have searched out these specialized shorts which have the effect of making your butt look adorned with a tumor.

My bicycle stood there mocking me and my sore bum as I walked with trepidation towards this torture machine.

Luckily, the only uphills we had to brave was the steep demon hill to the most famous temple in the area. The one temple we were told couldn't be missed. It also just so happened to be the first road we were destined to ride. The temple was amazing, but honestly, once you have seen one temple in Korea, you have seen them all. They are almost all the same, except for small detailed differences. And as far as I know, none of them are the originals.

(the temple's garden)

These kids were so done with having the stinkin foreigners wanting to take their pictures!

Our friends Su and Danielle just chillin under a Cherry Blossom.

Our path back to the bike shop was along the highway, but rather than ride with the crazy Korean drivers who must all take lessons from the same insane asylum fugitive, we rode along the concrete paths of the rice paddies. Riding on flat land is so much more enjoyable that the uphill torture paths we rode Saturday.

The only other event worthy of note was running into our Polish American friend.

After returning our bikes, we found ourselves needing to waste an hour before we were supposed to meet back with the group. Walking along the streets searching for tourist shops an urgent voice calls out, "English speakers!"

A tall, broad shouldered white guy dressed in kakis, collared shirt, tie and red vest stops us in our tracks. His face was not quite desperate but his excitement was bubbling over and spilling all over his shoes. He looked as if he hadn't seen a familiar face in years. In fact we were to learn over tea and milk shakes, that this Polish Catholic guy raised in New York, schooled in South Carolina (just imagine the accent here) was fresh off the boat. (Not literally) He had just arrived in Korea for the first time not three days before. He had casually looked into teaching abroad, sent out a resume and found himself in a foreign country, in a small town far outside of Seoul (where anyone who is anyone lives) in about a months time. However within those three days, he had found a church and gone to an Easter service, found a gym, and found new friends with whom to spend the next hour. I think he should do just fine in this country. The first few months are the hardest because you really have to put yourself out there. Shyness and timidity gets you nothing in this country.

And then we returned to the bus for the long ride home. It was a fantastic trip. I was extremely appreciative that at least a few cherry blossoms bloomed for us. The beginning of spring is upon us. Patience is my friend. I can wait. I can, I can!

Our "cherry blossom" bike tour (part 1)

When we learned about the cherry blossom bike tour last February, we were one of the first to sign up. Cherry blossoms in Korea are a true cause for celebration. Not only are they delightfully delicate and paint the nearly dead looking trees with pink and white, but they also (generally) represent the end of frigid winter's paralyzing touch. However this year, winter, as I mentioned before, has refused to release us from it's icy grasp. It's shivering fingers remain tightly around the neck of Korea. Cherry blossom festivals all over the country opened April 3rd, but because of mother winter's stubbornness, the cherry blossoms shied away, only peeking out on scattered trees.

The trip, which proved to be extremely popular filled up three buses of foreigners. The organizer, then opened the next weekend as well. As the weekend got closer, the realization that the cherry blossoms might still be in hiding by the time of our trip, the organizer offered a switch. Indecisive, we wavered back and forth, finally choosing to change at the last moment to the following weekend. However, cyberspace gobbled up our message and it never arrived to the organizer's inbox despite two emails being sent. We didn't realize the appetite of cyberspace however until we were snugly on a warm subway 8:30 pm Friday evening waiting to head into Yangpyeong.

"William, I never received a confirmation that we were switched." I told him on the phone as we sat waiting for the subway to leave the station Friday evening, a few hours after the email had been sent.

"I never received an email." he replied

"WHAT!!!??" I nearly screamed into the receiver, "Are there still spots open?" I asked frantically.

"No, in fact there is now a waiting list." he replied

"I don't understand. I sent two emails not one hour after your email that there were spots open. Is there anything we can do?" I asked using my sweet voice and using my puppy dog eyes for emphasis and sympathy fecklessly.

"I can give you a refund of 50% if you don't want to go." he said plainly.

"Humph. Alright, thank you." I said quickly noticing the cue that the subway was one minute from leaving the station.

"Kyle, we gotta go!" I said grabbing his hand and pulling him off the train before the doors closed. "Sorry, we gotta go" we apologized to our astonished friends with whom we had planned to go to quiz night.

We jumped in a taxi, sped like little demons around our apartment throwing clothes, books, toiletries and other necessities into our bag for our biking weekend. The bus for the trip was scheduled at 6:30 am which meant in order to make it, we had to spend the night in Seoul with a friend. I tried not to grumble at our unfortunate luck, but it was difficult as the situation was immensely irksome.

The next morning we slept walked to the bus through brisk air. The quieter bus being more appealing for sleep, we made a b-line towards it. The bus ride was a daze. Anything anyone said to me was only an addition to my dream and not real life until Kyle grabbed my hand and placed me on a bike.

"We're here already?" I asked in my zombie state.

"It's been over three hours sweetheart. We are all supposed to meet at the tower." He replied

We got lost on the way to our first destination. This first wrong turn proved to be foreshadowing for the rest of our trip.

Coming up to the tower, I noticed oddly placed grassy hills.

"What are all of these hills?" I inquired.

Maybe this had been discussed as I was dozing, maybe it was just common knowledge, but in any case, I was the only one in the dark.

"Those are tombs of the kings" someone replied.

Throughout the city we saw dozens of these tombs. It was explained to me that kwang-ju is famous for this reason. Many of the most famous kings were buried here.

After the group shot at the tower was taken, we broke up into smaller groups exploring the area. We were given a map with trails, tourist attractions and our ultimate destination- the hostel. The problem was, the map was extremely ill-proportioned. The length of one area which we had estimated to be near an hour proved only to be 30 minutes at a leisurely pace giving us an inaccurate perception of the rest of the trails actual length.

First priority- as always when Kyle is around- is food. Because of our misunderstanding of the map, we took a leisurely lunch before continuing our route. Had we known what was in store for us, we might have made different choices. But then of course our story wouldn't be half as interesting.

Our first stop was a temple, a lame and uninteresting temple. Kyle had fun taking pictures of the area however.

We then headed towards an out of the way tomb, up an exhausting hill, once again to find nothing but disappointment. The tomb, was just that, and nothing else. A mound, a grassy knoll with nothing of interest. We thought briefly of sliding down the side of the hill just to make the most of this waste of time, but decided against it. No point in stirring up ancient angry Korean kings. We don't need insulted ghosts cursing us on top of the curse of working at a more than frustrating school.