Room With No View

On my last evening in Korea, I had returned to Seoul, from where I would head back to the Incheon International Airport and eventually, home. I had done all I wanted to do in Chŏnju, had all the information that I wanted to gather, and was ready to say goodbye to the country that had been my home from 1997 to 1999.

Actually, that's not quite true: I didn't do everything that I wanted to do in Chŏnju. I didn't climb Namgosan, the hill on the south end of the city, just a short hike from the neighbourhood in which I was staying. On that hill there were the remains of a fortress wall, a temple—Namgosansa—and a commanding view of Chŏnju.

The view in 1997.

In my first year, on summer afternoons when I had several hours to kill between classes, I would climb this hill and walk past the temple, along some of the remaining stones from the wall, find a cluster of trees that would offer shade from the burning sun, and relax as I watched the city move below me. I sometimes even brought some food and a bottle of soju or beer, and have a picnic.

I didn't climb Namgosan. I had injured my foot, seen it swell to a ginormous size, and didn't want to walk any further than about 10 or 15 minutes at a time. It's a shame, really: I have a photo that I shot in 1997 and would have loved to capture an image to see how the cityscape had changed over the past two decades.

No matter: I had the view I shot from Jeonju University and a night view of the Hanok Village from Omokdae Park, which shows the sprawl in the near distance, looking northwest, past city hall and toward the downtown core.

I didn't go to Tokchin Park, near Chŏnbuk National University, but I had been there before and recent photos on Google Maps showed that it hadn't changed much, except for the plaza where intercity buses made short stops. But I could see part of the plaza, from a bus stop, and I can always visit it on Google's street view.

I didn't visit the neighbourhood where I lived when I worked at the hagwon (private institute) in 1997, but again, I can see just as much from Google street view. The same with the apartment that I lived in in 1998, when I worked at Jeonju U. I caught a quick glimpse of it from a city bus, as I headed to the university, and I thought that was enough. I didn't need to get up close.

So, I left Chŏnju, not with all my boxes checked but feeling satisfied that I had accomplished my mission.

When I returned to Seoul, I wanted to be a tourist, wanted to visit sites that I had planned to visit when I lived in South Korea but never had the chance. And while I have never been a shopper, I wanted to go through some of the shopping districts and poke around.

Two nights before I returned to Seoul, I had no booked accommodation. A friend of mine had told me about love hotels, which can be rented for a night or for a few hours, depending on your motives. If your motive was sleep, it was an inexpensive, clean room. If you were looking for hanky panky, away from prying eyes, it was an inexpensive, clean room.

Before going to Korea, I checked one out on YouTube.

While I trust my friend's judgement on travel, I opted to not follow this recommendation because I didn't want to worry about searching for the right hotel at the right price, in the right neighbourhood. I wanted to be in a neighbourhood that I knew well, that had easy access to transportation to the airport. And so, I searched online and found a room for only $89CAD just a short walk from the hotel I stayed in, a few days prior, when I first arrived in Korea.

For that little amount, there was a catch: the room had no windows.

New Kukje Hotel.

I didn't really care because I was only staying for one night and I was only going to use the room for sleep. And, most importantly, the hotel had plenty of positive reviews, mostly about the cleanliness of the rooms and the friendliness of the staff.

The room was, indeed, clean and the staff were very helpful—and they were fluent in English (even the elevator spoke exclusively in English, as it announced floors).

As soon as I settled into my room, it was time to head out and play tourist. There was a temple that I had wanted to visit so long ago but never found the time, and so I headed out to Bongeunsa. This temple, dating back to 794, is located on the south shore of the Han River, and just east of the neighbourhood where the Express Bus Terminal is located. (The bus terminal is the only reason I had previously ever found myself on that side of the Han.)

The temple was devastated by a fire in 1939 and was all but completely destroyed during the Korean War, but the rebuilt structures and giant standing Buddha of today are no less impressive.

Bongeunsa is located in the heart of the Gangnam district which was made famous by the 2012 hit by Korean artist, Psy. A statue in his honor is located a block away from the temple.

After I visited the temple, I returned to my hotel neighbourhood, near city hall, where I ate dinner, picked up some grapefruit-flavoured soju, some potato chips, and unwinded to a Korean version of a reality talent show.

 
I discovered, though, that even though my room had no view, the hotel had a rooftop restaurant with a terrace that had a spectacular view. So my hotel was well worth the visit.

My trip to South Korea was short but well worth the jet lag and injured ankle. As I return to more work on my novel, Gyeosunim, I have lots of renewed memories as well as fresh ones.

Who knows? Maybe I'll return in another 20 years?