A Sunday hike

Koreans are crazy about hiking. It seemed like half of Seoul's population of over 10 million decided to hit the trail on Sunday, when Allison and I showed up at Bukhansan National Park. Never have I been on a more crowded hike, and with such a well-prepared bunch! Allison and I were very much out of place in our sneakers, jeans and cotton t-shirts. Everyone else looked like they were about to climb Everest with their windbreakers, anti-sweat tops and bottoms, hiking staffs, top-of-the-line hiking boots and backpacks, and visors, of course. Lots and lots of visors everywhere, on the heads of every Ajumma and Ajoshi (male equivalent of the Ajumma, though less inclined to shove and bully).


The Ajumma Visor


Speaking of Ajummas, I discovered another species: the Hiking Ajumma. Hiking Ajummas sport the same perm and visor as the regular Ajumma, only members of this species are slightly more formidable as they are fully decked out in hiking gear, which means they have another weapon on their hands: hiking poles. Hiking Ajummas also navigate the trails no differently than they do the subway: should it be too crowded, the Hiking Ajumma will casually shove you out of her way with her hiking poles. Trust me on this one - I was bowled over by a Hiking Ajumma yesterday. I didn't expect the mountain paths to be so similar to the subway!

Anyway, perhaps the crowds were a good thing, because we really had no idea which of the trails to take. We only had one plan in mind, and that was to follow the swarms of hikers. This was a fine idea, until we slowly climbed higher and higher up the mountain, where the swarms dwindled, and there were not too many hikers around. Nevertheless, we continued to follow and follow, until several rogue hikers led us off the trails, and we found ourselves climbing around like mountain goats in something that only vaguely resembled a "path." It wasn't until we found ourselves on the other side of an area that was fenced off that we realised that we had been in unmarked territory.

We were surprised by the number of hikers who waved at us and said hello in either Korean or English. In the heart of Seoul, the only notice we get as foreigners is an unchecked stare or a casual Ajumma shove on the subway. No hellos or good days, unless a particularly brave kid decides he wants to test out his English by screaming "HELLO!" at the top of his voice. Here on the mountain, nearly everyone was pleasantly shocked at finding two Caucasian kids wandering around like fools, so we heard a lot of "good jobs" and "Have a nice hike!" in either English or Korean. I was surprised, too, at how the trail was dominated by Koreans - we ran into a few non-Koreans later on, including a quartet of friendly Americans who have been teaching here since the mid-90's. They helped us figure out where we were, and told us that after hitting one of the peaks, there was a short, 45-minute path that would lead us down to the exit of the park. Well, they were either horribly wrong, or we failed to follow their directions, as it took us two doggone hours to get out of the mountains. The uphill trek was surprisingly not painful at all - it was the sharp rock-infested downhill trails that destroyed my knees, calves and toes. My feet are still tingling in pain.


Mini waterfall near the exit

By the time we got to the bottom, we were famished beyond belief. Serves us right for not packing enough food, I guess. But six hours of hiking and only one red bean bun each meant that Allison and Nadeen were ready to devour anything on the path. Luckily, there were quite a few restaurants at the park's exit, so we dashed into one of them and ate two enormous bowls of bibimpap. Might I say that the two women who ran the restaurant were seriously two of the kindest souls we had encountered. They brought our food over and insisted they mix up our bibimpaps for us, and came by every once in a while to check up on us and to cut a rogue piece of too-large kimchi in half. At the end of the meal they offered free cups of sweet, sweet coffee, and explained how to get back to where we needed to go since we'd descended on the opposite side of the park. While the ladies were doting on us, a young Korean girl from a nearby table came up to us and said "Hello" in English, followed by "Are you Korean!?" in Korean. As little sense as that made, she was as endearing and as sweet as the kind restaurateurs.


Where we ate - if I remembered the name of this place I would recommend it to anyone who goes hiking at Bukhansan.


My host mother said that people who love the mountains are people with good hearts. After a day wandering up and down the mountains with some of the friendliest Koreans I've met so far, I will heartily agree with that statement.