I'm at the Bliss Hotel (also known as Hotel Bliss because Korean hotel owners apparently don't care about word order), where you too can sleep two nights for the low, low price of W120,000. That's W50,000 for Thursday night (today) and W70,000 for Friday night (tomorrow). An average of W60,000 a night isn't bad for a place of this quality: modern facilities, nice WiFi, and lots of space. The Bliss has been my next-to-last stop on the Four Rivers trail since 2017.
I got here fairly early, leaving the Nakdong-jang Yeogwan at 5:35 a.m. and arriving in Yangsan City at 12:45 p.m. If we subtract the time I spent resting, my rate of travel was around 3.34 kph. When I started off, my feet were already aching despite the ibuprofen, so I'll definitely benefit from that final extra day of rest at the end of this long journey across South Korea. Then again, over the course of today's walk, I never found myself in excruciating, debilitating pain.
Now that I'm done with challenging hills, today's walk was a relatively flat, southeastward-tending route, with only a few minor rises. The path stayed ruthlessly close to the river. In fact, with the river to my right and either train tracks or roadway to my left, there was really nowhere to stray, and no way to get lost (getting lost when following rivers takes an uncommon amount of stupidity; I've gotten turned around on farm roads after making a navigational mistake, I admit, but I've never been lost, per se).
The walk also featured wide-open river-valley spaces, some of which have been developed into beautiful parks, and others of which have been turned into courses for that ever-growing cancer, park golf. (I hear George Carlin in my head ranting about how golf takes up entirely too much room in this country.) But the day was too bright and beautiful for me to remain bitter about park golf; I was once again in a pretty good mood for the entire walk, and arriving in Yangsan was the icing on the cake: Yangsan makes me almost as happy as Namji. I associate Yangsan with recovery and with the gathering-up of energy for that final push to the end.
This morning started off clear and cool but not cold, so I didn't bother with gloves or my ski mask. Saturday morning is forecast to be around 5°C (41°F). That's about the temperature of a refrigerator's interior, so I might have to begin the final leg with gloves. Once the sun is out, though, things will warm up rapidly.
When I got into town today, I decided to eat Amurrican since I haven't done that in a while. Right close to my motel, there's a Burger King. It's got those now-ubiquitous self-order "kiosks" to further minimize interpersonal interactions. As with ATMs, I've forced myself to learn how to operate these devices in Korean. I mentally contrast this with my buddy Tom, who's lived in Korea for thirty-ish years but still hits the "English" button every time he's at an ATM or one of these kiosks. It's never good to be a linguistic cripple; I'm a big advocate for independent functioning. Hitting "English" is a practical solution if your level of competence is low, but in the end, it doesn't help you improve your Korean.
Among the "passing sights" I saw (to borrow a term from Buddhism) were some freaky-looking flowers and a bridge under construction. The flowers were of a species I'd never seen before; they looked almost plastic, but when I ran my trekking pole through a bunch of them, they moved organically. The bridge I passed, meanwhile, was one I'd seen under construction three years ago, and I was surprised to see how little progress there'd been over the intervening years. I would've thought the bridge would be done by now, but at this rate, it won't be completed until after I'm 60. Yeesh.
There was one smaller park with a single working food truck located about 5 km from my destination. I sauntered up to the truck and ordered something I never order: one of those fucked-up Korean "toast" sandwiches—the kind filled with egg, ham, shredded cabbage, and ketchup. Maybe I'm pregnant or something, but I was in the mood for a strange snack, and when I ate the thing, it wasn't half bad. While I was downing my sparse meal, a foreign couple pulled up to the same park. The guy walked up to the truck and awkwardly ordered some food in perfect... English. No attempt at Korean at all. Of course, he and his lady friend were riding bikes loaded down with big, heavy saddle bags, per the stereotype. I hope they enjoy their ride across Korea, missing 90% of the experience because they're Korean-illiterate. I finished my sandwich and drinks and headed out to walk the final 5K.
The forecast for tomorrow still calls for rain until about noon, a prediction that has remained remarkably stable over the past 24 hours. I'll be resting tomorrow, maybe going out for lunch (there's a Vietnamese place around the corner) and buying some snacks to tide me over for when I walk the final 30K on Saturday.
My left big toe remains torn up and stinky at the end of each day, but it's not leaking blood anymore, so it's just exclusively ooze now. I clean the toe several times with alcohol when I'm settled into a motel, with one final cleaning in the morning before each big walk. Once I'm back in Seoul, I'll be soaking the feet in Epsom salt for sure. So far, no sepsis. Believe me, if there were an infection, we'd all know.
Info and images:
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| Follow the river. |
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| another low-cal-burn day |
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| moon and Venus |
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| dawn straightaway (and again, no fog!) |
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| young women rejoice |
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| a boardwalk-y portion of the path |
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| one of several "swimming dragon" sculptures at a park |
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| my weird sandwich |
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| the still-incomplete bridge |
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| vaguely inappropriate |
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| one of several such fingers greeting me upon my arrival in Yangsan |
Just one more walking day to go. Hard to believe I've now got another walk in the books. This remains one of the most meaningful and fulfilling activities I engage in, and I encourage others to create and realize their own walk project, however long or short. Just be sure to condition your feet. They'll suffer anyway, but they'll suffer less if conditioned.
PHOTO ESSAY
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| Goodbye, Nakdong-jang yeogwan/motel. |
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| probably offices, not residences, beneath the bridge |
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| ad for window blinds (beul-la-in-deu, yellow font, a 1-syllable word stretched out to 4 syllables) |
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| moon and Venus, 5:42 a.m. |
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| Keep in mind that the phone camera takes in more light than my eyes do. In real life, this scene was dark. |
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| I guess we're going right. Again. |
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| quiet, tranquil... introvert heaven |
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| The moon and Venus seem inseparable for now. |
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| 46 km to final goal, 339 km back to Andong Dam |
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| the thing across the river |
I'm trying to remember why I even bothered to take the above pic. It's hard to see thanks to the combination of bright lights and digital zoom, but I think the "thing" in question is some sort of stone memorial of some kind.
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| morning train (Morning, Train!) |
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| I think this was the excavation site for a very old bridge. |
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| unfortunate English name |
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| another train |
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| As you see, there's some mist on the river. |
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Was that building repainted? I'll have to check earlier walk blogs.
(I checked. In 2020, the building looked the same.) |
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This is saying that, today, there's a bangsaeng event happening. If this is in the Buddhist context, this ritual involves the symbolic release (or rerelease) of living creatures (usually fish, etc.) back into the wild. If you read Korean, you can read more about the ritual here (or right-click on the page and hit "translate to English"). The article stresses the many dangers that come with releasing captive animals into the wild. |
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| steep road up—not relevant to my path |
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| Sanguinaria canadensis, the double bloodroot |
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| They really do look plasticky. Weird. |
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| tucked-away shwimteo |
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| I'm really not sure here, but this may be about an old cliffside road. The map shows it following the river. |
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| biking map |
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| bamboo dominates |
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| See what I mean about not being able to get lost? |
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| the part that always reminds me of Ireland even though I've never been there |
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| At a guess, the Ireland-looking stone structure is part of the aforementioned cliff road. |
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| Miryang City behind, Yangsan City ahead. |
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| Now entering Yangsan. |
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| We've had Joro spiders pretty much the whole way down. |
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| digitally zoomed helo |
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| 41 km to final goal |
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| cute little pine grove |
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| I'm stopping here for a bit. This is a traditional resting spot for me. |
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| Nakdong River End-to-end Bike Path, Yangsan City Section with info on surroundings |
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| the one annoyingly perky tree, like that overly cheerful and energetic camp counselor |
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| The sinister park-golf cabal gathers. |
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| park with swimming dragons |
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| Loch Ness, eat your heart out |
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| more dragons |
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| The bottom signs are the "double" signs we've come to expect: Four Rivers + Nakdong. |
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| 39 km to final goal, which means less than 10K to today's destination. |
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| I always get the impression that these mantises have almost reached their goal. |
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| Weolli/Wonri Village to the left; Nakdong River trail straight ahead. |
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| I expect to see a gnome. Or Gollum. |
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| Yangsan/Mulgeum, 8.7 km |
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| map of Weolli/Wonri Village |
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| What's up with that outcropping? |
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| modern shwimteo |
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| Again, there are so many wildflowers that look like this. |
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| out-of-focus spider, barely visible |
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| huge, sleeping dog (head to the left, haunches to the right) |
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| fascinating texture |
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| Four Rivers + Nakdong |
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| 34 km to final goal |
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| I'm approaching a picnic area at about the 5K-to-go mark. |
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| my strange meal: toast sandwich, Coke, and lemonade |
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| a closeup of the horror |
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| Gayajin Temple (or shrine), 6.4K; Yangsan/Mulgeum, 4K |
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I finally feel I can trust this distance on the marker. With about 4K to go, that means it's about a 29K walk to my final goal, the Nakdong River Estuary Barrage. And that's about right: tomorrow's walk is just short of 30K. |
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| Off we go. |
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| Roller blader. Does that activity promote premature stooped-over posture? |
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| Sura-do... I'd need to really sit down and decipher this text to know what it's about. |
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| another explanation here |
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| The warning strongly says to slow down. |
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| more bamboo leaping out at you |
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| Ah! The bridge. Not nearly as complete as I'd thought it should be after three years. |
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| butthole |
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| BUTTHOLE! |
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| When will they put the road onto the bridge? |
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| no 2-wheel or 4-wheel(?) motorbikes |
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| back on the boardwalk |
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| "Sharp curve—slow" |
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| "Water is life" |
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| a sign for 용화사/Yong Hwa Sa, i.e., Dragon Flower Temple |
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| Dragon Flower Temple, use the stairs |
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| last cert center before Busan |
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| prison compound with happy (but fading) mural (just kidding about the "prison" part) |
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| weed whackers, whacking off |
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| among the last cabbages you'll see on this trip |
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| We're basically at the edge of town. Here's a public restroom. |
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| 들말/deul-mal means "wild horse," but what is 정/jeong in this context? |
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| The path into town isn't obvious. At first, it involves some stairs, twists, and turns. |
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| down and right |
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| under and across a street, then up |
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| ...and we're officially in town. Welcome to Yangsan, final stop before Busan. |
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| obviously a biker's town |
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| the special salute |
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| several such salutes |
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| and a Churchill |
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| last cabbages for the day... for real, this time |
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| not quite Covfefe |
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| Misodam Restaurant: mulhoe (sashimi dish), soba noods, sundubu (tofu), tartare bibimbap, etc. |
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| quirky carvings |
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| eatin' Amurrican |
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| other hotels in the area: Time and Idea |
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| Here's a different kind of glove |
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| the Bliss Hotel (motel, really), a.k.a. the Hotel Bliss |
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| main entrance |
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| small door leads to check-in desk |
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| That's Obong-san (Obong Mountain) out the window. The word obong sounds like "Five Peaks" to me. |
Don't be too harsh on the non-Korean speaking cyclists. There are a lot of cycling tourists who come to Korea specifically to do this ride...
ReplyDeleteI guess tourists are fine and don't know any better. My focus is on the foreigners who live here and should know better.
ReplyDeleteI agree with you there. I guess my point is that are a surprising number of tourists who fly in to ICN cycle down to Busan and then take the ferry across to Japan to continue cycling there. Although even tourists would benefit from learning how to say hello and thank you.
DeleteI don't know about that "word order" thing...didn't the Eagles welcome us to the Hotel California?
ReplyDeleteOne more day to go; I hope it's a good one! The time really flew on this hike, or so it seems from a distance.
So, those last two photos--an asshole and an extended middle finger. That's some welcome to Yangsan!
Enjoy your day of rest before the grand finale!
re: word order
ReplyDeleteIn English, we play with word order deliberately to sound more poetic, e.g., "the warriors three." But the Korean situation is one in which nearly every hotel inconsistently renders its own name in two ways as if the different names were interchangeable, thus giving us "Hotel Bliss" and "Bliss Hotel," etc. If the Hotel California said "Hotel California" on the outside, but the towels in your room said "California Hotel," that would be problematic, I think you'd agree. "Hotel" is actually part of the name, which is why word order matters.
re: time flying
At the end, it always feels as if the time flew, and it's easy to forget the huffing and puffing, the aches and pains, the feeling every step, that got you to that point.
I was actually going to post the exact same thing as daeguowl, but I see I have been beaten to the punch. Instead, I will say that those toast sandwiches are a cultural icon, man. Don't knock 'em.
ReplyDeleteGood luck as you limber up your loins for the final thrust.
Yeah, agree with @Charles and @daeguowl. I like to get out of my comfort zone, and sometimes being illiterate in the language is part of that. Traveling only to places where I am fluent in the native language would be limiting. I do see you were referring to expats who have been in country for long periods of time, but the bikers may not have been those type of people. Brian
ReplyDeleteI'm being dogpiled, I see!
ReplyDeleteI get that traveling somewhere where you don't know the language might take you outside of your comfort zone, and I myself have told the story of how exhilarating it was to be in Japan the first time while unable to speak a lick of Japanese. But that was for a short visa run. For me, as a matter of preparation for longer trips, learning at least a bit of the local language of the country I'm visiting is essential. Language means freedom and power, and I won't take back what I said about being a linguistic cripple. Lacking language ability is limiting. To be clear, I'm not suggesting that a person should become fluent in the language of every country he visits—I'm not even fluent in Korean, so I'd be a hypocrite to demand fluency. I am, however, reaffirming that you're depriving yourself of some depth of experience when you're spending time in a country while totally unable to speak the language. My exhilaration in Japan was rooted precisely in how lost I felt, and I think that's fine for a day or two, but if I'm spending weeks in a foreign country, I'm going to bone up on the local tongue.
I agree that it's better to know a little than nothing at all even as a short-term tourist, and obviously long-term residents should learn the language. I was thinking more about making judgments about people based on a single interaction.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was visiting France for a few days as an undergrad, I did a pretty good job of getting by on my less-than-ideal French. I didn't have to resort to English, even if I sounded like a brain-damaged child. That is, until my last day there when an emergency came up and my brain froze. I couldn't think of the words to express myself in French, so I desperately sought help in English. And despite the fact that I had been conducting all my conversations in French up until that point, I was suddenly treated like the ugly American tourist.
I don't know how often I actually live up to this ideal, but I try to keep in mind that the one interaction I have with someone (or simply witness) may not be a good representation of that individual.
Single interactions are how we make and receive first impressions, and I'd be a liar if I tried to claim that I never judge people based on a first impression. That's an impossibly saintly standard. That said, I'm always open to admitting my first impression was wrong—as is often the case—should the people I meet prove to be better specimens than I'd originally thought. The couple I saw yesterday were there and gone, though, so I didn't get the chance to have a second impression. They will forever remain "fucking ignorant tourist assholes" to me.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I know. I do it more often than I'd like, too. But I do try, at least, to keep those judgmental thoughts in check. The number of times that my first impressions have proven wrong keeps me mindful of that. The first time I met you, for example, I thought you were a pretty decent guy. Little did I know the depths of your depravity.
ReplyDelete