Korea DAY 2: (Pt. 2) Seoul Station, Gyeongbokgung Palace + National Folk Museum of Korea

Read Part 1 HERE !

​Despite the path from the hotel to N Seoul Tower being relatively straightforward on foot, all buses routed towards Seoul Station involved a detour before the entrance of Gyeongbokgung Palace, as only the arterials roads were wide enough to be traversed.

​Moreover, the short-lived commute involved one transfer. While I could have undertaken the remaining twenty minutes on foot instead of waiting seven minutes for the next bus, the mid-morning hours had become far warmer than anticipated. In the presence of concrete interlock walkways and sheer absence of tree cover, I opted to take cover under ledge of the nearest bus shelter. It was, in this moment, that I noted not a single member of society donned sunglasses in the face of eyeball-scorching UV rays.

​I met up with my browsing partner within my ETA period. Before departing, a stopover was made at CU. I made it a point to obtain the Korea Tour Card to enable discounts on admission and other related attractions, not knowing that the 4,000 KRW card would be phased out at the end of the month.

Quick lunch options at CU were dismissed on the bases of blandness; though, I must admit to giddiness at seeing the same packaged chicken breast that Mark had showcased in his latest Korea VLOG.

We then slowly made our way to Seoul Station, with me identifying items of interest along the way. While we could have descended directly into the station via the nearest subway entrance, my browsing partner expressed curiosity towards the pedestrian overpass.
"We have to head over there (across the street) anyway - might as well see the view from up there." was the justification. Little did I know that these gentle nudges would continue to postpone meal times and delay desired activities for the rest of the trip.

And so, braving the blazing sun, we climbed up to the first pedestrian overpass and crossed over the complex intersection of Hangang-daero/Sejong-daero, Tongil-ro, and Toegye-ro.

Glass panels had been erected along the edges of the exposed walkway for the obvious reason of safety, save a bump-out observation deck with a singular opening for unobscured photo capture. I detested the pathway's proximity to the cloudless sky, again expressing distaste for the lack of streetscaping. The observation of a café with an elevated seating area - Yes, you read that right: even higher than the overpass - was bewildering to me.

Scalp burning immensely, I urged my browsing partner to make haste. Obtaining a hat for the remainder of the day's outdoor activities appeared non-negotiable at this point.

Descending a winding staircase led us back to the station where confusion and fatigue had plagued us the night before. Homeless sightings hadn't diminished in the slightest. Rather, the ruckus was louder and area busier.

Striding past a defunct railway terminal, homeless elderly men yelling indistinguishable phrases, and substantial smoking area, we made our way into the teensiest Daiso I had ever seen. Cramped corridors and failure to find hats prompted our near-immediate exit. We'd head two levels up towards Lotte Mart to continue our search.

​In the bustling supermarket, I'd find a plethora of snacks but not a single hat of interest. The grocery section of the Mart was positively flourishing, which raised an eyebrow given that it was still a weekday afternoon.

I resisted the purchase of skincare items and weighty munchables, for we'd soon be subject to luggage overage charges imposed by Jeju-bound air carriers. A pack of Kanu instant coffee was procured, then we ventured to the connecting floors of Lotte Mall.

Utterly unplanned was the browsing of said retail floors. Alas, one distraction led to another, causing time to pass quicker than we realized.

One level above Lotte Mart was a haven for enthusiasts of games and animated characters: There were dedicated sections for Pokémon, Pixar, Nintendo, LEGO, and more!

Naturally, I was also unable to resist the conveniently positioned photobooth. The Korean Life4Cuts accepted payment by card and cash and charged a mere 5,000 KRW for two copies. Furthermore, there were no surcharges for specialty/exclusive frame options. The widespread availability of photobooths was a pleasant observation, but the accessible prices even more.

The unexpected yet convenient location of Muji incited a visit. There, I found products that would otherwise be pricier and not yet in stock back home. Given the allure of Instant Tax Refund, I committed to purchasing two sunhats for the upcoming itinerary. One adopted a dusty pink hue with a wide brim and waterproof coating, while the other a lightweight black with breathable top.

​Washrooms were located on the same level as the parking lot. In contrast to the aura presented by the department store, the stalls weren't particularly clean, nor was the absence of soap and water regarded favourably.

By the time Lotte Mall had been traversed in most of its entirety, the clock read 2 PM. Sustenance was needed.

​Tokkijung Project was selected based on proximity.

The interior housed a greater number of patrons than perceived from the outside. Luggage was held near the reception desk as to prevent obstructions in the main corridors of access. Meanwhile, servers flitted between different sections of the restaurant, transporting giant glasses of carbonated mixed drinks and shareable platters to parties of two, three, and four.

​A double-sided, laminated menu with English, Chinese, and Japanese translations was presented to us. Based on this provision, I had assumed all front line staff to have decent linguistic capabilities, for Seoul Station appeared to cater towards East Asian tourists speaking the aforementioned languages. The waitress who neared our table appeared surprised at the need for English communications. Sluggish and confusing was the exchange before I resorted to using my broken Korean. I succeeded in inquiring about spice levels, though the girl was alarmed at the mention of a peanut allergy, instead requesting assistance of a manager authority to confirm the presence cross-contamination.
Amidst this interaction, I realized a void in my vocabulary: Despite knowing that 딴콩 was peanut and 호두 was walnut, I was unaware of the overarching term of 견과류 as nut products. Nevertheless, I managed to utter: "딴콩만!" meaning "only peanuts".

​Tokkijung operated impossibly slow. When tables that had been seated after us received their order, I became visibly irked and pressed the service button to inquire. A different member of staff approached our table with a blank expression. When I, to the best of my Korean-speaking abilities, expressed that "Our food hasn't come out.", she replied very matter-of-factly, "We do it in sequential order." before walking away. This response would be unacceptable in North America, where the normal course of action involves checking with the kitchen, even if simply as a courtesy. Needless to say, my already stretched patience grew even thinner. It was now nearing 2:30 PM.

Within minutes of this unimpressive interaction, a sizable wooden tray arrived, but with a gaping well at its centre. The short-haired waitress apologized for the wait, then noted hurriedly that the main dish was "forthcoming". The Jung Set (정 밥상) was supposed to include several side dishes with choices of one pasta dish and one curry. Our picks included the Hamburger Steak Miso Cream Udon and Fruit Curry.

​Unable to resist hunger any longer, I eagerly spooned the Fruit Curry over a spoonful of furikake-topped, short grain rice. Much the my dismay, the supposed sweet Fruit Curry was spicy. The "curry impact" had not been lessened with the incorporation of small pieces of fruit, but simply sweetened with its spice level maintained - despicable. Sides comprised of picked veggies, cabbage slaw, and a wad of cream cheese with several crackers shoved into the mound haphazardly. We had been advised that dressing would be omitted from the slaw due to peanut-containing components, but witnessed a drizzle of watery mayo-like condiment on the surface regardless. Thankfully, the kitchen team did appear to omit the nut portion of the dressing.

Tonkatsu slices were munched upon while in wait of the Miso Cream Udon. These pieces boasted a splendid flesh-to-breading ratio with a substantial mouthfeel. Without a tangy tonkatsu sauce to pair though, they were somewhat dry to taste.

​The Miso Hamburger Steak Miso Cream Udon finally arrived another fifteen minutes later, embracing visuals that made my stomach sink. Sprinkled liberally over the surface was shichimi. In addition, bits of red pepper peaked from underneath the orange-tinged cream sauce. The menu had not bore any indication of the dish being spicy. Yet it was, extremely so.

​Even the smallest spoonful set my lips ablaze. To make matters worse, there wasn't an inch of the Hamburg Steak that had not been permeated with the sauce or togarashi seasoning. Unlike the round, white udon noodles I had anticipated, the dish consisted of a flat, slippery variety that neither allowed for clinging of sauce nor ease of consumption. The heavily skewed description of the entree hadn't irritated my browsing partner nearly as much. On the other hand, I was appalled by the spicy cream sauce I desperately tried to avoid in place of miso and the absence of proper udon noodles.

​Further worsening the experience were the filthy, sauce-stained chairs in which we had been seated, loathsome customer service, and unclean, outdated bathrooms. Tokkijung Project appeared to be a popular spot for couples and those bypassing Seoul Station in military uniforms, yet the overall experience couldn't have been worse for yours truly. In spite of my ravenous appetite, barely a few bites could be ingested due to the unadvertised spice level.

​At the late hour of 3 PM, we finally boarded the bus towards Gyeongbokgung Palace.

​Spotted along the way was a statue of King Sejong (commonly referred to as "Sejong the Great"), the almighty king who had developed the Hangul writing system, adapting it from Chinese Hanja for the masses.

We disembarked a short walk away from the palace entrance, which was overwhelmed with the presence of security. Especially evident were members of security surrounding the US Embassy and related Ministry and government buildings.

Soon, we found ourselves at the infamous T-intersection facing Gwanghwamun Gate.

Vehicular disturbances removed with the help of AI

​Tourists flocked the gate for photos, many of them dressed in hanbok for the comprehensive cultural experience.

View the full album HERE !

Beyond Gwanghwamun Gate was a ticketing booth. While those dressed in traditional Korean attire would receive complimentary admission into the Palace, those in standard clothing were required to purchase admission for 3,000 KRW per person.

Interestingly, individual tickets were not issued. One QR code would suffice for the two of us.

​Not a single cloud in the sky meant our walk would be sunny and torturous. I escaped to shaded sections of the palace wherever possible, prompting the unfitting remark of "lazy" by my browsing partner. Not a single action undertaken had evoked a sense of laziness; the scorching temperatures, seemingly endless stone stairs, and dry, barren grounds simply did not align with my idea of a leisurely cultural stroll.

The path through the palace was not linear. Visitors were required to weave about the countless gates and residences to progress through numbered destinations of the attraction.

​Wandering freely in an ancient palace was an interesting experience, though the only correlation between the modernized site and daily life were my brief instances of watching historic Korean dramas.

Heritage sites in North America are usually preserved in their original state, but Gyeongbokgung Palace had been enhanced with benches for visitors, fitted with grates and pipes to facilitate drainage, and equipped with fire extinguishers and CCTV cameras for public safety and monitoring. Due to these modern improvements, the visit felt somewhat less authentic.

​At the northern end of the palace lay the Hyangwonjeong Pavilion. 

​Again, the site had been upgraded with flood control and dam-like installations. Only a handful of angles could grant visitors an untainted view of the pagoda and mountains in the background.

​Chancing across guided walking tours wasn't uncommon. A nearby Chinese-speaking tour granted great amusement in their donning of white baseball caps and a middle-aged lady's flashy, sequined down jacket. With the respect to the unforgiving sunny conditions, I instantly labelled her as delirious.

The north limit of the Palace allowed for exit into different parts of Bukchon Hanok Village. Exiting northwest would lead one towards more cultural residences, while exiting east granted entry into the National Folk Museum of Korea. Strategically positioned turnstiles indicated one-way entry - essentially a "Choose Your Own Adventure" ending, as my browsing partner had declared.

In bypassing a rest area with plentiful tree cover, I learned of Korea's extensive availability of public washroom facilities (thank goodness!) and preventative measures for tree overgrowth.

Before the entrance of the museum was a ring statues featuring the twelve zodiac animals, each proudly clad in ancient armour.

​The National Folk Museum was truly the highlight of my visit. After at least one hour of unprotected sun exposure, the cool, dark conditions were appreciated tremendously.

​Ideal exploration conditions aside, the free museum was both interesting and informative. It is challenging to spark intrigue with elements of the past in a conventional manner, thus the thoughtful incorporation of 3D components, projector sequences, varying levels of illumination made for extremely innovative, interactive presentations.

​Amongst my favourites were none other than a Just Dance-esque module to learn traditional Korean Folk Dances and incredibly compelling projections to mimic the motions of sea water, changing seasons, and koi fish in a well. Holograms of women dressed in hanbok cast into replicas of residence was another noteworthy aspect of the museum.

​Throughout our entire saunter, I couldn't help but compare the breadth of the exhibit to the extravagantly-priced, mediocre museums back home. Toronto's renditions were decent at best with minimal curating, let alone interactive with the skillful application of modern technology. The GTA would simply never come close to such an experience!

​I also marvelled at the stone and bamboo handwashing station, which was positioned outside the bathrooms for sharing between both genders.

​Although we could have explored further elements in the vicinity, including The Children’s Museum extension and Street of Memories, my body yearned for a place of respite.

​I refuted the journeying tendencies of my browsing partner and pointed in the direction of Bukchon Hanok Village. Wonder Cookies would be our next stop, before venturing up N Seoul Tower come sundown.

Read Part 3 HERE !