South Korea (Part 2)

March/April 2003

My initial idea for touring South Korea was a two pronged attack on the best national parks I could walk and to take in some of the history and major temples en route. But in the land of "Not Quite Right", all the best laid plans go astray...

I headed off by bus, to Sokcho, in the province of Gangwon Do, four hours east of Seoul. On the way, a friendly retired bank manager bought me lemonade and told me that my destination, the Seoraksan National Park, had had its heaviest snow fall in years and much of it was closed. We passed by the towering snow capped peaks of the Park as we approached the town. A local bus (which a taxi driver helped me find!) took me 20 minutes out of town to the small empty hamlet of Seorakdong, the service area for the park. The pavements still had huge mounds of frozen snow on them. I checked into the plush new empty youth hostel, and got a nice warm en suite room with cable TV for the price of a dorm bed; about £8 (nb. Most Korean buildings have heated floors in the winter which makes all accommodation very cosy). I took a stroll along the gaping river valley towards the park entrance 5km away, where the white water river was dwarfed by the endless white boulder strewn debris that had been washed down from the mountains. It was lovely scenery of bare trees on steep mountain slopes, but at the end of the valley, the mountains were shrouded in a misty rainstorm. I returned and helped a local hotel owner shift the ice from outside his premises. Lets face it, after a week of living it up in Seoul, I needed some exercise. An armada of tour buses (I counted 20 in one convoy) left the park before the rain started. Like the Japanese, the Koreans like to travel in packs.

"Top of the charts in the Korean Park scene, Seoraksan (Snowy Crags Mountains) National Park is spectacular. Its a land of high peaks, lush forests, tremendous waterfalls, old temples and hermitages" (Lonely Planet). It is also the most popular. The highest peak is Daecheonbong (1708m), a strenuous, 16km, officially timed, 12 hour return hike when there is no snow. I caught a 7am bus up to the park entrance and set off to give it my best shot. A lovely meandering trail followed a river up through the forests, but within 2km, the concrete steps and steel walkways were covered in packed snow. I was walking a metre over the top of them, following a few frozen footsteps. It was hard going. The snow was melting under the surface and occasionally my leg would disappear up to my thigh. As the valley turned into a narrow S shaped gorge and the forests thinned, I had magnificent views of the towering granite cliffs all around. Noone else on the trail this early in the morning. The icy path went through more forests and the gradients became steeper. There are shelters to stay at on the trail, but when I reached the first one called Yangpok after 4km (about 2 hours into the hike!), it was closed and the trail had completely disappeared. I couldn't go any further and cut my losses. It was just as well. The surface layers of snow were thawing in the sun and very slippery, it was even worse coming down. When I reached a lookout point at the end of the easy trail, 200 Korean teenagers on a field trip all walked past yelling "Hello", "Where are you from" etc and requested group photos with crowds of them. I didn't see another westerner all day.

I tackled Ulsanbawi instead, a shorter more popular clamber up a huge granite cliff to 873m that can be seen from many parts of the Park. The lovely trail took me past small cafes where, with no road, everything was carried up, Nepalese porter style, on their backs. Midway, Heundeulbawi (Tottering Rock) is a large rock that can be rocked too and fro. I didn't get a chance for all the groups posing for photos in front of it. Next door was Gyejoam, a small cave temple which was established in the 7th century by a "leaned monk" (I think that should have read "learned" but up here, he probably starved). From here, it was a serious ascent climbing over frozen snow, and a steep steel staircase that just kept going up through the crevices of the granite. It was worth the effort. From the summit, the views over the snowy crags were the best I would see in South Korea.

Back near the park entrance I checked out Sinheungsa (635 AD, rebuilt 1645), the oldest continually used Zen meditation temple in Korea which had a giant seated Bronze Buddha and a collection of lovely old wooden buildings. A final walk took me to Yukdampokpo waterfalls which involved more suspension bridges and climbing flights of stairs. They were nothing special, but it was nice just to have the excuse to walk somewhere in the sunshine. I walked for nearly 8 hours that day.

Early the following morning, I caught a series of buses down to the province of Gangwon Do to Woljeongsa Temple in Odaesan National Park, another high altitude massif where nature reigns supreme. Birobong (1563m) was the highest peak, but the snow lay thick on the mountains and it was unreachable. Snow still lay at the lower levels too and I abandoned the idea of a day hike around the peaks.

1. You always enter a temple complex through the "Gate of the Four Devas". The Four Devas are the heavenly guardians or minders who protect the Buddhist World (The guardian of wisdom, the guardian of correct thinking, the guardian of holy scripture, the guardian of the cardinal directions). They are at the head of the gods for the defence of Buddhism and make an observation at the good and evil of human beings. They are usually huge wooden carvings with gruesome faces and wielding weapons of destruction or strangely it seemed, guitars!

2. After you pass through the gate you will probably find yourself in a large, sandy courtyard. Normally, Buddhist temples are comprised of many separate buildings, or halls, and a separate section of living quarters for the monks. The names of the halls commemorate the primary figure housed within.

3. Off to the side, there is always the high covered platform. A huge temple bell, a massive temple drum, wooden fish and a cloud shaped plate are always arranged in this open building for the Buddhist ceremonies. The bell (which is held up by a chain through two intertwined dragons) is rung for the suffering beings in infernal regions (e.g. being stuck next to a field trip of 200 loud yelling teenagers). The drum is beaten for the tormenting purgatory (seeing the same group later in the day/week), awakening the wooden fish for the ignorant beings in the water and the cloud shaped plate is clanged for the pitiful beings in the sky. One sign read "Just listen to the awakening sound of these instruments and you can get a time for penetrating your true character".

Photo Example of Korean Temple Bell
Another Photo Example of Korean Temple Bell

4. Most temples have a hall occupied by Chijang-posal, the Bodhisattva of the Nether World. Chijang is very popular for his commitment to remain at the level of bodhisattva until no more people suffer in hell or have to put up with tour groups. His hall is easy to identify because he is accompanied by the Ten Judges, who stand in front of colourful paintings of their respective domains. Whenever you enter any temple building you remove your shoes and walk on plain or varnished wooden floorboards. You may do this a dozen times at every temple.

5. Depending on the size and orientation of the temple, additional halls may be dedicated to particular deities. The halls are often connected by walkways and walls, and the buildings are generally set some distance apart, promoting a feeling of calm and openness. A pagoda often takes centre stage in the courtyard along with tall stone lanterns that bring light to the temple courtyards and keep evil spirits away.

6. Korea has a long tradition of building pagodas, so much so that she was once known as the "land of pagodas" in neighbouring countries. Pagodas are constructed both to house holy relics and to attract cosmic energy.

Photo Example of Korean Temple Pagoda

7. Tan-chong is the traditional painting style for temple decoration. These elaborate and colourful paintings cling to eaves and ceilings, drape pillars and hug corners. Korea has some of the best in the world. As you move through a temple, you'll begin to notice recurring symbols. Lotus blossoms are everywhere.

8. A sign read "although the lotus flower takes root in liquid mud (don't we all after a few drinks), it flowers beautifully and smells nice and fragrant, totally untainted by muddy water. Similarly, although this world is dirty and foul just like the muddy pond water where one person envies another's good fortune (i.e. not meeting a field trip of 200 loud yelling teenagers) or intrigues against their friends, if you can lead an honest life following Buddha’s teachings, you are certain to be reborn in the Land of Pure Bliss in the afterlife. Thus the lotus flower stands for Buddhism's doctrine of reincarnation". There were many stone pagodas in the temples shaped as lotus flowers, plus gold gilted flowers around the altars.

9.. You may also notice the swastika, which depicts a cross rotating around a fixed point. The perpendicular lines at the ends of the cross are meant to convey motion. The fixed point at the centre represents the Absolute from which emanate the principles of the universe. There are often also huge stone turtles (symbolising longevity) supporting Stele.

10.. Finally, there are the myriad statues of buddhas and bodhisattva, the focal points for worship and meditation. The bodhisattva, usually secondary figures to the central Buddha, are beings who are capable of passing into Nirvana, but defer their passage in the hope of assisting those in need (of a drink after reading that dull background).

Relax. I haven't been converted. But I finally started to understand some of the things I was looking at in the temples I visited. Besides, going on the glances I was getting from the Four Devas in every temple, they indicated I was going straight to hell. Even from the one with the guitar.

Photo of Cherry Blossoms
Another Photo of Cherry Blossoms

The temples were always isolated in a wooded area which at this time of year did not have the greenery yet. Obviously the temples look best in the autumnal colours but I was happy enough with the Spring flowers. The other advantage was that I mostly escaped the summer crowds of visitors, but not always. On the approaches to the temples, local women would sit on the ground with teeming amounts of produce; wild mushrooms, root vegetables, herbs, various plant leaves and piles of red chilli peppers.

In every temple complex I visited over the next 3 weeks, there was some kind of reconstruction going on to a building or a roof or both. I would see stacks of large black tiles piled up near the side of the buildings. Each tile had some writing painted on it. The tiles are building materials needed by the temples for their continuous maintenance and expansion plans. The white writing is simply the names of those who donated the money to buy the tile (current price $10 a tile). Your name is then eventually immortalised within the temple structure, earning you some good karma. Remember that old phrase "My karma just ran over your dogma"?

Anyway, after all that, back to Woljeongsa Temple (founded 645 AD) which had been reconstructed over the past 30 years. LP said "The result is simply magnificent and the internal painting in the main hall containing the Buddha image is a masterpiece of religious art". It wasn't bad. In front of the main hall stood a unique 700 year old, octagonal, 15m tall, 9 storied stone pagoda but the famous kneeling and smiling Bodhisattva, a National Treasure had been removed to wherever it is they store National Treasures.

Here, there were plenty of buildings with sloping, gabled, tiled roofs and the woodwork was covered in fantastic colourful paint work both inside and out. Different types of golden Buddhas and statues dominated the interiors of temples, depending on the status of the temple. Korea has never gone for huge monolithic temples like the Potala Place in Tibet. Instead it concentrates on the excellence of its carpentry, the incredible skill of its painters and the subtlety of its landscapes.

The highlight at Woljeonsa was watching a strange ceremony in a side chapel. Here, a small party of people dressed in white smocks and the men wore what looked like brown paper bags on their heads. A couple of monks in plain grey tunics accompanied the service by knocking on a wooden couch shell with a wooden drum stick and ringing a bell, keeping up a hypnotic rhythm to their chanting. Finally they all exited, following a leading monk. One person was carrying a framed photo of a dead relative. They filed across a courtyard to a small metal oven with a tall thin chimney. The monk said some more blessings, and lit a fire and the relatives then all undressed from their ritual clothing and burnt the lot. This was a Buddhist ceremony to celebrate the death of someone, 49 days after the day they died. Not something you see everyday, unless you know someone who died 49 days ago.

This was the first time that I saw monks wandering around in Korea, and it took me back to the Tibetan monasteries, reminding me that these were not museums, but living complexes of worship and study. I visited about a dozen temples in Korea and if the reconstruction work was not going on, and the tourist numbers were low, they were almost silent places in the woods. I often heard a monk chanting in a temple and banging on his wooden couch shell which had a marvellous clicking echo. He would be on his mat, before the altar, shaven head to the floor, standing up and down, kneeling, bowing, chanting and rattling away. Sometimes, visitors or locals (usually women) would join in. You put your left leg in...

Another temple, Sangwongsa, lay 10 km further into the park. I didn't intend on visiting it, but as I waited for a bus, a man in a Musso 4WD (the most popular macho vehicle around) stopped and asked if I wanted a ride up the road. Why not. He had had an argument with his wife (surprise, surprise) and had taken off for a two day roadtrip to clear his head and get away from his stressful job as the marketing manager for a Korean mineral water supplier. The small complex contained a gold plated Buddha statue and one of the oldest, and second largest, bronze bells in Korea which was cast in 663 AD. The temple complex itself was worth about 10 minutes, but it was a lovely drive up through the river valley of forests with the snow lying around. And I got free samples of mineral water, though, as in Japan, the temple watering holes and streams were always crystal clear ice cold delights to savour.

Obviously at a loose end, my driver offered to drive me south to Pyeongchang. This was a non descript market town in the middle of some mountains and surrounded by endless plastic greenhouses of, (later in the year), tomato plants. These greenhouses which I saw all over the country were like plastic villages. About 75m long and 10m wide, they would be constructed in rows of 20, right next to each other, sometimes 200 at a time. Many others contained strawberry plants and the street markets were awash with strawberries in every town throughout the country. A large punnet costs about £2, but they seem to sell them by the bucket load. I would also often see gangs of women in the fields down on their haunches in baggy clothes and white bonnets tending root crops.

There were signs saying "Yes! Pyeongchang. See you in 2010". Somehow, it was hosting the 2010 Winter Olympics. I knew there was a ski resort nearby, but the place was just a hick town with no obvious facilities to host a major international sports event unless someone starts building something fast. There wasn't even a decent hotel. There is apparently a huge 7 year project to bring it up to speed, but looking at the current progress, I'd bet on the motto being changed to "Probably Not! Pyeongchang. We made a big mistake". South Korea seems to have hosted all the biggies; 1988 Olympics, 2002 World Cup and now the 2010 Winter Olympics. Maybe the powers that be are banking on a North Korean collapse by then and a symbolic "Unification Games".

At least it had a bus station and I caught a bus (my 6th today) south to Andong for the night. Arriving in darkness, the good news was that my accommodation was near the station and the bad news was that noone had heard of it. I got a local to call them up for directions and stumbled across it in a back alley. It was a local Yeoinsuk, a Korean flop house. My room was less than 3m square with a 2 inch thick futon, blanket and TV and a shared hot water bathroom/household cupboard. Er, that's it. But for £5 I wasn't complaining. Any local accommodation in Korea is only indicated in the Korean language, but you start to recognise the signs. Or start asking people. Outside Seoul I was the only westerner around and few people spoke any English.

It was a splendid place. Walled/thatched alleyways led you through the compact village. Poorer people lived in thatched brick cottages with long metal chimneys coming out of the side of the walls at ground level. Wealthier families had wooden villas and sloping tiled black roofs. It was a working village and all the houses were lived in. I watched a couple stack a flat top van with giant sheaves of wheat (the woman wore a strange gigantic netted bonnet like she was a beekeeper) and haul them around to another area, where alleyway walls were getting rethatched. Locals were in their gardens sifting soil, spreading manure, or planting crops. The surrounding fields were all bare. On the outskirts was a small Christian church with corrugated iron roof and large cross on a triangular spire of metal rods. The bell tower was a separate, ground level affair near the front door. At 11am, a woman came out and donged the bell. One car drove up. The locals weren't exactly rushing to get there on time. I was fortunate enough to have arrived early on this Sunday morning and I had the village to myself for the first hour or so. By the time I left, the tour groups had arrived and the alleyways were heaving with people, cell phones and cameras. I was so impressed I even bought a traditionally carved Korean Shaman "aristocratic nobleman" wooden mask and got a small one on a necklace thrown in as a gift.

Photo Series of Hahoe Folk Village

Returning to Andong, I got a bus ticket to Gyeongju but unbeknownst to me, was put on a bus to Yeongju (because I had not pronounced Gyeongju as "Kongju". Yeongju is pronounced "Gyeongju". Korean is a terrible phonetic language for beginners). One hour later, I was dumped north of Andong instead of three hours south. Great! A young bus station attendent took pity as I moaned about Korean names. He spoke no English, but indicated in Korean, "don't sweat it mate. There's a bus to Daegu in 30 minutes. From there, you can get a connection to Gyeongju". He wrote everything down in Korean and came back with a bottle of mineral water to cheer me up. Which was nice. Eventually, I reached my destination and checked into an empty central hostel catering for backpackers.

I can't knock the Korean bus service. I never waited more than 30 minutes for a bus anywhere during my month in Korea and often jumped off one, straight onto the next connection. They were regular as clockwork, fast, comfortable, no blaring music or TV and cheap. They even ran if I was the only person on it. However, like everyone else in Korea, the bus drivers spend half their time talking into mobile phones while driving. I'm sure it's illegal but everyone does it. One big improvement on Japan, was the serious lack of traffic lights outside the cities. Often there would just be flashing yellow lights to indicate a junction and people would enter when the road was clear. Unlike Japan, however, there are camera speed traps everywhere and a high visual policecar presence on the road along with police radar traps. Koreans like to drive fast and everyone is driving big powerful get out of my way vehicles.

Still a relatively small, if expanding city, it is called an "open air museum". In any direction you walk, you come across tombs, temples, shrines, the remains of palaces, castles, Buddhist statuary and field trips of 200 loud yelling teenagers. Up in the forested mountains that surround the city are thousands of Buddhist shrines, temples, rock carvings, pagodas and blind hiking groups (see later). The area contains eight UNESCO World Heritage Sites.

I only had to walk two blocks from the hostel before I came across Noseodong which contained three massive Silla tombs from the 4th and 5th Centuries. The largest, Bonghwadae, was 22m high with a circumference of 250m, They were large symmetrical, conical, grassy mounds; like gigantic molehills that had been too big to remove so the town planners had said "Bugger it. We'll just turf them over and perhaps noone will notice them". A few trees were growing on the slopes. They reminded me of the Chocolate Hills in the Philippines (except that these were man made, smaller, not brown and very few in number; so in fact were nothing like the Chocolate Hills except in shape). Next to one, a group of women did their early morning, pre 7am, stretching exercises. While travelling around Korea, I also noticed small neatly trimmed grassy hummocks on hillsides. These were the traditional graves of wealthy people, obviously copying the original tombs. Except that they looked like someone had just dumped a body on hillside, covered it in a pile of dirt, smoothed it over like a sandcastle, planted some grass and trimmed it once in a while. I had never seen graves like these before. Most people are cremated in Korea.

Photo of Gyeongju Silla Tombs
Photo of Small Graves of Wealthy People

Across the road lay Tumuli Park, a huge walled area that contained another 20 similar tombs of the Silla monarchs and family members. Most have been excavated and I had seen many of their fabulous treasures at the National Museum in Seoul last year. One of the tombs had been left open in cross section to show the method of construction. This huge tomb, 13m high and 47m in diameter , built in the 5th Century, contained a wooden burial chamber. It was called the "Heavenly Horse Tomb" because they found a saddle inside with decorative flaps of a flying horse on it.

I strolled on to Chemseongdae, a stone observatory constructed in the 7th Century. Its apparently simple design concealed an amazing subtlety. The 12 stones of its base, symbolise the months of the year and from top to bottom, there were 30 layers, one for each day of the month and 366 stones were used in the construction, one for every day of the year. It was positioned so that its corners related to certain stars. All this within 15 minutes of my humble abode. The area was awash in yellow Forsythia flowers, green pines and magpies; all emblems of Gyeongju.

Photos of the Tombs and Chemseongdae Observatory (in first three photos)

Bulguksa ('Buddha Nation Temple") lies 16km SE of Gyeongju. Built on a series of magnificent stone terraces, which are unique in Korea, it is the crowning glory of Silla temple architecture and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Originally built in 528 AD and enlarged in 751, it survived intact until the Japanese trashed it in 1593. It was reconstructed in the 1970s and I would say, is now the most famous (at least most tourist visited) temple in Korea.

Standing on the highest level and looking down, I was presented with a rolling sea of tiles formed by one sloping roof after another. The painting of the internal woodwork and of the eves of the roofs was outstanding. There were also a couple of stone pagodas inside the complex which had survived the Japanese.

Photo of Bulgaksa Temple Pagaoda
Excellent Photo Series of Bulgaksa Temple (On first left hand index choose S. Korea. Scroll down next left hand index to 'Gyeongju'. In the list below it, click on 'Bulguksa Temple'). This site has a stack of photos of much of my tour. There are also photos of the Heavenly Horse Tomb in this index)

I followed a 3km wooded trail up into the Tohamsan Mountains, passing four young panting monks in plain grey smocks, sun hats and slippers. The lovely climb then took me 400m along a shaded gravel track festooned with two lines of colourful pink lanterns. Finally I reached the Seokguram Grotto. It was well worth the walk. With the dome covered in earth, the Grotto looked like a cave. This famous UNESCO site is the home to an 8th Century seated image of a stone Buddha looking out over the mountainous landscapes. The blurb read "it is an exquisite combination of the Silla people's deep religious passion and wonderful artistry with applaudable scientific skills". Whatever. Constructed from huge blocks of granite, it is stunningly perfect and despite the reputation of constant hoards of tourists, I had it to myself.

Official Photos of Seokguram Grotto

I caught a bus to Naksan, a low lying mountain range south of the city. A beautiful forested area, the mountain is strewn with royal tombs, pagodas, rock cut figures etc and the remains of a 4km long fortress. None of which you can find unless you know where to look. Sign posts would have helped. I followed my nose and the squirrels, past bright purple spring flowers up to the highest peak at 466m. I had found absolutely nothing. As I approached the platform at the peak, I could hear loud singing. I found 30 elderly blind people. Someone had a megaphone, barking instructions and leading the sing song. I learnt the Korean for "Not much of a view is it?", "I wonder what it looks like at night", "Ouch! Who stood on my foot?" and "Careful with that walking stick. You"ll have someone's eye out". But I'll give them credit for getting up there. I watched them hold on to each other, led by guides who could see, negotiating their way down over the tricky boulders. I fell over once and I could see where I was going! As I descended, I met a local Korean couple hiking. They knew the trails and led me to the famous ye olde ancient "Seated Stone Buddhist" image carved out of a boulder and past one of the tallest pagodas. They had even hiked to Everest Base Camp in Nepal.

On my second day, I caught a bus south to Tongdosa Temple. This Buddhist temple is the largest and most famous in Korea (to the Koreans). It is a traditional Zen temple. Tondo means "Reaching Enlightenment", Sa means "Temple". It was founded in 646 AD by a priest who had studied in China and wanted to establish Buddhism in Korea. Tongdosa is situated in beautiful surroundings amid forested mountains and crystal clear streams. Most of it was rebuilt and the paint work has suffered. On an overcast, cold day, it lacked colour (apart from the white magnolias) which surprisingly gave it a more atmospheric feel (until the tour groups arrived). It was full of splendid old wooden buildings with little decoration outside and inside the gloomy temples, the paint work could also have done with a makeover. It did have the oldest bronze temple bell in Korea. I have already used some photos of Tongdosa illustrating my Korean temple background.

Back in Gyeongju, I visited the Gyeongju National Museum. This supposedly houses the best collection of historical artefacts of any museum in Korea. But there were a lot of frustrations. The main Archeological Hall was closed (getting dug up?) which removed a large chunk of the collection. It had also run out of explanation leaflets. Worse of all, the grounds and buildings were packed with hundreds of screaming schoolkid fieldtrips running around and couples dragging screaming babies behind them. It was like visiting the kindergarten from hell. On the plus side, it did have some decent treasures from the Silla period including the Heavenly Horse Tomb hoard of gold crown, saddle and horsy equipment and trinkets.

Photo of the Heavenly Horse

Outside in a pavilion was the largest bell in Korea. The Emile Bell (771 AD) is one of the world's largest and oldest temple bells. Legend has it that a child was thrown into the molten bronze when the bell was cast and the sound the bell makes when struck is the child crying to its mother Emi. Supposedly the bell can be heard 3 kilometres away with a simple thud. Not that you would have heard it today, with all the kids screaming, I felt like melting it down again and throwing them all in. At least there was free internet which made up for the lack of collection.

Photo of the Emile Bell

If you had a car, and the interest, you could spend days trawling around the Gyeongju area. There is another famous Folk Village at Yangdong, but two was enough for me. I would return to Gyeongju later in the trip by car to see some other things. But two full days was enough to get a flavour of what, after Seoul, is the biggest tourist draw in South Korea.

Daegu is the country's third largest city (2.5m pop). One problem with this sprawling city is that it has four bus stations, depending on what direction you arrive or leave. I arrived at the eastern station and had to reach the western one. No problem. They have a subway that links the two. Or rather did. When I asked for directions to the subway, the woman at the bus station said "No subway". Eh? "Fire". The penny dropped. This was the city that had the recent underground inferno caused by some mental retard who decided to set fire to a train. Hundreds dead and a typical Korean cock up whereby the driver had apparently fled, forgetting to unlock the doors. And then the next train wasn't told about the fire and pulled in behind it. She pointed across the road and indicated that there were buses linking the two halves of the subway that were still operational. So I crossed the road and they wouldn't let me on the bus. I had to have a subway ticket to get the transfer bus. I pointed to the bus station to explain the Catch 22 situation. I had arrived by bus not the subway. Eventually, after much arm waving and unintelligible verbals, they let me on for free and I was able to get the subway five stops from the western bus station. Result!

The most famous attraction in the park, is (you've guessed it) Haeinsa Temple. One of the ten great temples of the Avatamsaka Sect. It is also the repository of the Tripitaka Koreana; more than 80,000 carved wooden blocks on which are the complete Buddhist scriptures. As with Bulguksa, UNESCO has declared Haeinsa, an international treasure. The blocks are housed in four enormous wooden buildings complete with a simple but effective ventilation system to prevent their deterioration. The wood blocks I saw today (through the slats) were actually the second set carved. in the 14th Century. The Mongol invasion destroyed the first set carved in 1251 after 20 year's work ("Thanks guys. If I knew you were coming, I'd have waited"; attributed to Head priest on behalf of the carpenters at that time).

Haeinsa Temple itself was completed by the mid 10th Century. The Main Hall 'Daegwanjeon' was burnt down by, who else, the Japanese, in 1592 (but the Koreans hid the Tripitaka) and accidentally in 1817 (oops, guess a monk left a cigarette burning), though miraculously, the Tripitaka on the level above, escaped destruction. Restored in 1971, the temple had some of the best painted woodwork I would see anywhere in Korea. The exteriors were covered in murals depicting Buddha's life; his drinking, gambling habits and various mistresses, failed movies, rehabilitation etc. The wooden eves were dripping (not literally) with colour and decoration. Dragon heads had been carved at the ends of the major eves. Inside the Main Hall, were 3 golden buddhas and 3 bodhisattvas of varying sizes and every inch of the interior was painted in further colourful decoration. The Koreans, when not drinking and fighting, sure do like to paint.

Photo of Haeinsa Temple
Another Photo of Haeinsa Temple
And Another Photo of Haeinsa Temple
Yet Another Photo of Haeinsa Temple
Final Photo of Haeinsa Temple

As well as being one of the most significant, part of Haeinsa's beauty lies in the natural setting of mixed deciduous and coniferous forest. I discovered a 1000 year old fir tree that was still going strong, and no other fir tree in Korea even comes close. There is a record of when a priest planted it. I'd rate Haeinsa temple and the setting well up on the list of places worth visiting. On a side note, I popped into the monks toilets. Unlike the usual western tourist toilets you find everywhere, these were your run of the mill Nepalese squat over a hole in a wooden floorboard and watch your meal descend far below onto a pile of leaves type. I also noticed that the toilet paper holder was produced by a company called "Bum Han". Oh well, they got it half right.

Wrong! When I strolled up to the Park entrance around 4.30pm, they indicated that I couldn't come in. "No walking" the girl said. What do you mean no walking? She couldn't speak English. An assistant tried to help by producing his lighter. "Fire!" he exclaimed. What fire? I pointed to the mountains? Where's the smoke? After much body language and waving of arms, it appeared that all high level walking in all the southern National Parks was off limits between March 1st and May 31st because of the threat of fire to the dry undergrowth due to the Korean habit of smoking while hiking. Well, thanks a lot. I'll come back in 6 weeks. No problem. The Land of Not Quite Right had done it to me again. So defeated, I climbed back on board the bus that had brought me there back to Jingu, while the bus driver tried to make rather limited conversation and laughed his head off. Fortunately, he didn't understand "why don't you shut up, get off your mobile phone and watch the road you idiot" and 'If you could speak English, you could have told me that in Jingu, you moron". Outside Seoul, you never see another English sign. It seemed I was doomed never to climb a decent mountain in this country.

Jinju got 3 lines in my guidebook, but I holed up at another Korea flophouse near the bus station. On the TV was a national soccer game. I noted they played the Korean national anthem before the start. Which was nice. At least, they had beer in Jingu to cheer me up while watching a dull game in an empty stadium. Korean TV cookery shows are something else. You get a quick 10 minute show with one recipe and watch a woman making, I don’t know what, but they always looked aesthetically awful and often still alive, especially the seafood recipes. The woman chef would bite into her concoction and the show would freeze frame and suddenly end, presumably so we couldn't see her spit out the terrible inedible meal she'd just made. I usually had to change channel midway through the show just to avoid throwing up myself. It was like watching a very pissed off Delia Smith, (England's most famous TV chef) who after a few drinks, had argued with her husband and threw together the worst offal meal she could come up to get her own back, except that she pulled the offal from a live pig. On Korean TV cookery shows... noone can hear you scream. Korean food?... be afraid, be very afraid...

Do not despair. There were plenty of other National Parks to visit. I was on a 7am bus southeast to Sucheon. Nothing in the guidebook but I had a leaflet that said "the city has been the heart of culture, arts, education and transportation in the eastern part of Jeollanam Do". I wouldn't know. I was out of there on another bus within 10 minutes. I headed to the wonderful scenery of Jogyesan Provincial Park.

I thought I might be getting "templed out" by the wonderful paint work I had seen so far, (I'm sure you are just reading about it. No shit, Bob) but this place was something else. Painted carved dragon heads loomed down from the eves with their snaking trunks hung down from the rafters. A small ornate beautifully carved terrace stood out over a narrow canal. The complex wooden gables were awash in twenty different colours, and murals of Buddhist symbols/people. Four gigantic Deva Guardians peered down at me from the entrance gate with a sneer that seemed to say "Don't even think about climbing here".

Photo of Songwangsa Temple From The Air
Photo of Songwangsa Temple Drum Pavilion
Photo of Songwangsa Temple Canal Terrace

The temple is home to a community of monks who have devoted their lives to the study and preservation of the teachings of Buddha. Well it certainly wasn't hair dressing and designer brand names. Just after I arrived, about 50 of them, shaven headed, and dressed in plain grey tunics, wandered up in groups, left their fur lined slippers outside the Main Buddha Temple front terrace and started a ceremony inside. Lots of kneeling down on flat cushions, bowing with head to the floorboards and standing up (repeat for half an hour), accompanied by the hypnotic rhythm of couch shell banging, bell tingling and endless melodic chanting. They stood before 3 large golden Buddhas with 4 golden Bodhisattvas in between. I had never seen a proper Korean Buddhist ceremony and stood outside the open doors, delighted to have the opportunity to observe. I was the only person around and it seemed strange to have a full head of hair and shorts on. The ambience was finally ruined by a small group of Korean women tourists (they all seem to wear those large peaked yellow golf caps without the cap part, if you know what I mean) who bustled up to the outside terrace and yapped all the way through the rest of the ceremony.

Photo of Songgwangsa Monks
Series of Photos of Songgwangsa Monks

Poking around the various buildings, and trying not to use up all my photos on the fabulous paint work, I came across a little treasure, It was only a small chapel, maybe 10m long by 7m deep, but 1000 small golden Buddha statues, about 0.5m tall had been packed in rows up to the ceiling at the back on various levels. A large golden Buddha sat at the front in the centre. One of the smallest yet stunning sights I'd seen in Korea and no mention in the guidebook.

Personally, I found the Lonely Planet Guidebook to Korea to be pretty lousy, but it is the only one available. Useful for the maps and a bit of background. Hopeless on the sights themselves and especially the language section. For example, the word "Where?" would be useful for starters. There, I've said my piece. I picked up my backpack from the bus stop shop. Another great thing about Korea, is that you are able to leave your pack at shops, tourist offices or within the temples themselves and no one freaks out about a security risk or deserted luggage; just the smell of my dirty clothes.

I caught a bus to Gwangju, the fifth largest city in South Korea (1.4m pop) and scene of the infamous Gwangju Massacre in May 1980. On May 18th, there was an explosion of civilian dissatisfaction with the military junta which had seized government control in a coup d'etat and circumvented the 'democratic process'. Essentially, the students started the protests and the military moved in and started kicking them around. The soldiers had no bullets but used bayonets and killed a few. Outraged residents hit the streets, broke into armouries and police stations and drove the military out for nine days. On May 27th, the military returned with loaded M16 rifles and retook the city. 200 people were killed during the disturbances. It remains a grim reminder of what it took to become a democratic country later that decade. Every year, the city re-enacts the May 18th riots just for the hell of it. But the Koreans never seem to lack an excuse for a fight amongst themselves.

I would have like to have visited the May 18th Cemetery with the May 18th Memorial Tower; this is 40m tall and shaped like a pair of folded hands holding an egg between them "combining to symbolise the resurrection of life and the reflection of the sunlight from the white tower represents the seed of hope" (tourist blurb), but my connecting bus was leaving the largest bus terminal in the country in minutes. It was a massive, monolithic spotlessly clean concrete terminal. You could have played soccer in the waiting rooms. A nice girl from the Information Office led me to the walls of ticket vending machines (all in Korean) and stuck me on the bus at platform 39.

I spent an hour looking for local accommodation just outside the park, but it was like a deserted Korean trailer park with houses. Front yards full of debris, wild dogs running around and howling and a drunk man trying to push his bicycle home at 5pm. Sod this. I caught the last bus to Jeongeup, a market town 40 minutes away. There was nothing in my the guidebook except that it had 151,000 pop and "the main reason for coming here is to get to the neighbouring National parks". Well thanks a lot. Great research. Near the bus station, I found a local information office, still open at 6.30pm. The lady didn't speak any English but she pointed to a 'Yeogwan", a cheap Korean hotel, more upmarket from the flop houses. I was more than delighted to be offered my own lovely en suite room with cable TV for £10 a night. Who needs guidebooks anyway? It was the best accommodation I had in Korea and I based myself there for the National parks.

On a drizzly overcast morning, I caught an empty bus to Naejangsan National Park, 30 minutes away. The service area was deserted, as was the small temple except for a cleaning lady. Naejansan means 'Inner Treasure Mountain'. The landscape is formed like an amphitheatre with an old forested river valley, surrounded by the range of low lying Geumseon mountains and peaks. I followed the silent tranquil forest path past purple spring flowers and dancing pairs of jay birds, up through the valley to find that the ascents had been blocked off, due to the "Fire hazard" (as before). But noone was around and I ascended the steep wooden staircase and rugged trail up to Kkachibong Peak at 787m. If anyone wanted to stop me, they'd have to climb up and catch me. It was a good work out for the lungs and nature's equivalent to a 'stairmaster'. In the drizzle, there wasn't much of a view but I could see the other peaks and followed an undulating trail around the rim taking in Yeonjibong (670m), Manghaebong (650m) and Bulchulbong (610m). There were a series of steel staircases to ascend these peaks up bare granite cliff faces. The rain lifted, the views got better and I could see right around the amphitheatre. Then I sneaked back down another valley with noone any the wiser.

Back at Jeongeup, a connecting bus took me back out to Seonunsan Provincial Park. It was still crowded with sightseers. I could see and hear the schoolkids outside the Youth Hostel screaming it down. The Seonunsan Temple (est 577 AD and rebuilt many times) was mediocre against those I had previously seen. The elements had ripped the paint work off but it seemed to fit in with its surroundings. Behind the Main Hall, was a 500 year old Camilla forest of about 3000 bushes. There were numerous early red flowers, but they blossom properly in late April. I followed another lovely 5km trail to the Dosulam Hermitage where a 16m tall image of Buddha had been engraved into the side of a cliff. I had not anticipated the length of the walk, and with 20 mins until the last bus, I was hopelessly stranded. I started jogging down the gravel road, and the second car that passed, stopped, as I held up my thumb. In typical Korean fashion, the man drove while his wife and her friend sat in the back like Queen Mary. Still, I was very grateful and made the bus.

Another early start on to Jeonju and a connecting bus to Daedunsan Provincial Park. Yet another beautiful park, it offered craggy peaks with spectacular views over the surrounding countryside and is one of Korea's most scenic areas. On the way up through the service area of tourist shops, I was met by a little lady, Kim Chonghee, who said she had been in charge of the tourist office for a month and liked to practice her English. Would I mind if she joined me for the climb because she'd never done it yet. No problem, but I tend to walk pretty fast.

It was a steep rugged trail up the granite peaks. She was only wearing women's sensible shoes and though breathing heavily up the endless rock staircases, she kept up with me. It was a beautiful sunny morning and having arrived at 9am, few Koreans had started to climb. At a rest stop, I asked "so how old are you. 36?" "I'm 57" she replied. No shit. I was impressed. She was matching me step for step. The 'piece d' resistance' was a hellishly steep (30' angle) and long cable stairway straight up a sheer granite cliff. 126 steps, it was like climbing up a narrow fireman's ladder, except that the ground far below us was just a blur. Not one for vertigo sufferers. My guide was a little scared but followed me up. We didn't stop for fear of falling over the side.

At the top of the ladder, Chonghee said "my legs are shaking" and she decided to wait while I clambered up the final 20 minute ascent to the summit of Daeunsan (878m). From here, I had marvellous views of the steep craggy cliffs all around. On the descent, I re met my guide and we tackled the other main attraction; a 50m long cable bridge stretched between two rock pinnacles with another long drop below. After the stairway, this was a piece of cake. Our two and a half hour round trip to the summit was about an hour faster than normal. The crowds of hikers were coming up as we were going down. Chonghee was pleased to have completed the daredevil climbs but I bet she ached the next day! On a sunny day, this place is unmissable.

Photo of Daedunsan National Park Cable Stairway

Gongju (est 475 AD) was the capital of the Baekje Kingdon (one of the Three Kingdoms, eventually defeated by the Silla kingdom). The only thing that remains are the tombs of the Baekje Kings (and they were currently closed when I went to look) and the fortress. I did a morning excursion up to Cheonan to visit the "Independence Hall of Korea". This is the nation's largest museum and it is set in lovely grounds with endless concrete plazas and monolithic architecture that looks like a set from a science fiction movie, rather than a patriotic museum. At the entrance stood the "Monument to the Nation", a 51m high rise structure with the image of a bird's wings and praying hands "representing an everlasting spirit of the people and a will headed for the independence and self reliance of the people". If you say so. From here you cross the White Lotus Pond (no lotus flowers yet) and approach the massive "Grand Hall of the Nation", the biggest tiled roof building in the Orient. 45m tall it covered the area of a soccer pitch and under the roof it was just a wide open space with a central statue.

Behind it in a semi circle, stood seven huge exhibition halls each cataloguing the course of Korean history at various stages but mainly the 19th and 20th Centuries. There was a strong emphasis on Korea's history of resistance to foreign invaders (i.e. the Japanese). It was well presented, but I got bored with the "independence movement" during the Japanese occupation from 1910 until 1945. In the "Japanese Aggression Hall", however, there was an interesting section on the tortures that the Japanese military put the dissenters through. You peered through slots into cells to a Madame Tussard type mock up with lots of screaming from the speakers going on as the victims were branded with hot irons, stuck in boxes full of nails, buried up to their necks in sand and beheaded, Chinese water torture with hot water etc. The massive complex seemed to swallow the crowds and is the official "f*** you, we're still here" to the Japanese.

I spent the afternoon at the remote temple of Magoksa outside Gongju in the hills. It was very crowded and nothing special. Of more interest, was a forest fire on one of the peaks. Helicopters buzzed around and swooped in and dumped tons of water to contain it. I guess there is a fire risk after all. But it wasn't me! Back in Gongju, the street markets were full of bustling activity amongst the local produce, fish and spices.

The complex, burnt to the ground as ever, by the Japanese in 1592 was reconstructed and the 1624 five storey wooden pagoda, Palsangjeon, was one of the only buildings that survived from the 17th Century. The only wooden pagoda in any Korean temple, it was a shame that it was covered in scaffolding. Inside was a delightful collection of mini plaster buddhas surrounding the central wooden support and the "Big Guy". The Main Hall, Daeungbojeon was also completely covered in a massive green tarpaulin about 10 storeys high. Whatever temple I visited, I was doomed with the reconstruction going on.

Yet none of this really mattered because the complex was dominated by a gigantic 33m high statue of Buddha made from 160 tonnes of brass. Built in 1990, it replaced the original 27m high concrete statue which had started to crack big time in the 1970s. The brass statue had had a makeover in 2001 and was now covered in gold paint and it looked fabulous with the forested hills behind it. $4 US million worth of statue. Nearby, was a 3m tall, seated Buddha hewn out of a huge boulder that had originally fallen down the cliffs. Despite the construction workers, it seemed a fitting end to my first Korean roadtrip.

Photo of Beopjusa Buddha

I caught a direct bus back to Seoul. The three and a half hour journey took five as we arrived in rush hour traffic and the rain poured down. It was the first proper rain I'd seen in Korea since arriving. 50 bus rides later, I'd done as much as possible over the past fortnight and ripped through the Korean sights. Seoul was just a turn around. I'd be heading back south in a couple of days. This time in a car.