Mountain-climbing

Achasan, about halfway up the mountain

I set out today, on my third weekend in Korea, to actually DO something, and so searched online for a mountain that wouldn't be too difficult to find given my limited knowledge of Seoul's geography, language, and subway system, and settled on Achasan, a small and less-famous mountain and an easy climb, but supposedly offering an unparalleled view of the Han river.

It took an arseload of time to get here, but on the way (once I finally left the subway) I passed through an area which seemed decidedly more Korean than modern, suburban Gangseo. Small shops offering silly things, fish, little cheap restaurants... THAT'S why I'm here.

I'm at the halfway point, having reached a closed-down pagoda. i'm sittingo n what looks and feels like the gnarled fingers of an ancient Pratchettean troll - I find myself hoping to reach its head, and half-dreading that it might wake. It is near 2:00 and the Seoul air - which is never clear - casts a blurring fog over the jagged skyscraper-dotted landscape and the taller mountains in the distance. A strange and almost disconcerting effect when seen against the perfectly-clear blue sky above - as if the city, separate from this treed and rocky landscape, is being seen through a fogged hole in reality, or in a Carrolean looking-glass - another world entirely, less real than the solid rock below me... or possibly more real, in the bleak Dickensean vision of the industral world... perhaps a dream...

A flock of birds flies past me, so close I could snatch one from the air without budging, were I so inclined.

It's a shame that the children nearby see fit only to play video games while the wonder of gnarled trees somehow living off the deeply-buried soil under the rock, roots thrust through solid stone, lies all round for their awe and speculation.

...

The Peak

There's something about snow on a mountain.

Normally snow depresses me - it's a sign of winter, of cold and discomfort and darkness and death. But snow has not yet descended upon Seoul as it has back home, and so mountaintop snow is a different beast entirely. It's almost welcoming... like a hug or a smile from Nature, despite the cold; trees and plants survive up here despite the cold, like a challenge to the death and drabness that I normally expect from winter. I'm aware my metaphor machine is failing me right now.

At the peak, the rest of Seoul is a bit clearer, and it's not just tall buildings anymore. You can see the different gus (districts), built in clusters, nestled in between the mountains and forests which divide and shape this enormous city. The view of the other mountains and the trees below is so lovely I just had to sketch it - having no camera yet, it's one of my few ways of preserving memories, and sometimes the written word just can't do the job. Sadly, my drawing talents have atrophied through years of neglect. I had started rather well with one of the twisted old trees clinging to the cold high mountaintop rock, but I tend to put too much detail into the rest of the picture, so the important bit is lost - there's no focus to the drawing. It really should've been the tree and rocks, with the general shape and shade of the land below a mere suggestion in the background.

I guess foreigners (waygooks) are still a novelty to many Koreans... as I was sketching, a few teenagers with a camera approached me. I assumed they wanted me to take their picture, and reached for the camera with a nod, but no - they wanted a shot of me with one of their number, pointing menacingly into the camera's eye. I indulged them.

There's something relaxing and meditative in drawing on a mountain... except when you get obsessed with silly details and are consequently bored and frustrated and want to hurry it on. Ah well, I'll get used to it.

I'm glad I bought that sketchbook. I hope it sees more use.


There's something kind of neat about walking on a mountain in December and having to remove layers of clothing because it's too hot.
Just don't sit down anywhere for too long, or your body will be in for a nasty shock.

Final thought: I am so out of shape. I couldn't properly lift myself on the parallel bars at the midpoint rest area (yes, there is exercise and gymnastic equipment on the mountains here). I hope Amy (a secretary at my school) finds me a hap ki do place soon.