Korea DAY 9: (Pt. 1) Ichon Market

​The second-last full day in Korea was expected to be the busiest of them all.

Quality of sleep had undoubtedly seen progressive improvement over the course of the trip. While the first two accommodations were respectively found to be cramped and stuffy, the latter two were spacious, well-ventilated, and featured a variety of on-site or nearby amenities.

Particularly worthy of note was The Link's plush duvet, comfortable bed, wide internal pathways, and high-functioning A/C + portable air purifier.

​Breakfast involved Cold Brew from 곁에 Coffee and a Chocolate Canele from An'z Bakery inside the Gimpo Airport Lotte Mall.  In stark contrast to their alluring pour-over, 곁에's canned Cold Brew was found bland and, frankly, rather disappointing. Instant KANU sticks remained superior for the day's first dose of java.

​Meanwhile, the chocolate canelé was fudgy only at core and otherwise dismal. It is uncertain whether my review was impacted by the delay in consumption. Regardless, I wasn't fond of the exterior being liberally coated in granulated sugar, while the interior was rigid and devoid of depth.

​After lounging about in the comfort of the duvet for a while, I eventually led the way outside. We would take the subway from Guro, the station closest to us, and transfer at Yongsan for the National Museum of Korea.

Navigating between the subway lines revealed the different station layouts and neighbourhood characteristics. Line 1, operated by KORAIL, featured tracks at grade and dimmer passenger cars that were arguably less appealing than those witnessed near Seoul Station.

​The corresponding station buildings could also be interpreted as being older with fewer technological improvements (fewer LED screens and fewer advertisements).

​This was, perhaps, one of the reasons for squat toilets in the subway station. I panicked initially, thinking that all the stalls would reveal the same fixture, but found relief at laying eyes on a modern "Western" toilet. A young woman entered into the bathroom after me and underwent the same movement pattern. Suffice to say, the newer generation is not familiar - nor comfortable - with using a squat toilet.

​I had proposed a quick detour before heading to the National Museum, one of my browsing partner's POIs. Exiting at Ichon station, we would head south towards a quaint mixed-use area housing the Ichon General Market.

​The neighbourhood was similar to Guro in that it housed a multitude of industrial/commercial alleyways, often with specialty establishments bearing refined exteriors weaved in between.

Of note were a bingsoo shop with a mascot reminiscent of Mr. Buttons and a pilates studio with an unexpected second floor location.

​The atmosphere was a bit grungy, relatively empty at the early hour, and brimming with character.

​In our navigation quest, we discovered Olive Young in a seemingly peculiar placement, then the entrance to the Ichon General Market immediately adjacent.

​The market was bright, colourful, and sheltered from the elements.

​I found the layout to be rather straightforward, but appreciated the presence of a retailer map nevertheless. Nearby was the convenient addition of indoor plumbing facilities. Although the stalls weren't particularly pristine and the taps exuded ice cold water for handwashing, the availability of on-site washrooms was appreciated either way. Back home, I'd be thankful to even see a port-a-potty.

​Retailers spanned fruit and produce stalls, seafood vendors, and small shops offering traditional Korean stews and homestyle cooking. Most, if not all, signage was in Korean, as one would anticipate.

The rear entrance of the market connected to another strip of shops. Piquing my interest was a baby pink storefront bearing the name "오늘도, 네일". Besides the underlying reference to the legendary JJP release of Tomorrow, Today, the shop boasted an amusing play on words for a nail salon, for the phase could be read as "Today and tomorrow" or "Today as well, nails".

The primary objective of our visit was none other than the Shine Muscat grape variety. It was important to distinguish standard green grapes from the domestic specialty, for their prices were starkly different.

We settled on a plump-looking bunch at one of the many fruit stalls. Initially having interpreted each bunch to weigh in at 100 g (aka equivalent weight of the posted 3000 KRW), the staff member clarified that the grapes were sold either:

• Per box at 59,000 KRW
• By weight at 3000 KRW per 100 g

One bag weighed in at 696 g, or 20,880 KRW. The man saw the number and rounded down to the nearest 1000 KRW with a smile. "20,000 KRW is fine" came the prompt response. I nodded in acknowledgement; between my browsing partner and I, we each relinquished 10,000 KRW in cash to settle payment.

​We decided to sample the plump morsels on the spot. They were exceptionally clean and free of grit to start, so we merely wiped their exterior before plopping them in our mouths. Juicy, sweet (yet not excessively so), and crisp, it wasn't difficult to see why Koreans loved the Shine Muscat variety. However delectable though, it sufficed to say that we wouldn't be eager to splurge on $20 grapes on the regular.

We enjoyed a few more from the bunch, ultimately resolving to store the remainder for later consumption.

​A quick glance at my watch informed me that it was nearing noon. "I should eat." I thought, as my browsing partner would not consider sustenance until a reasonable time for eating had passed.

Spotting a mandu spot near the centre corridor of the market, I quickly proposed the idea of steamed mandu and entered into the space.

​The shop consisted of three compartments: a small seating area along the wall, a cashier area capable of fitting no more than one average East Asian, and a kitchen/preparation area. The latter consisted of steamers along the window and shelves of equipment against the wall. Two ladies worked tirelessly in the toasty space, with the one closest to the cashier facilitating orders.

With my browsing partner being utterly ambivalent about food, I took the lead in placing an order for Wang Mandu. My browsing partner waited outside, obviously, as any stranger interactions were automatically to be handled by me.
The middle-aged lady had no issues understanding my broken Korean, thankfully. I was surprised to see the establishment accepted card payment though, as majority of the market appeared to operate exclusively on cash.

​We hovered nearby in wait of our order. Just before departing, my browsing partner proposed obtaining a bag of oranges to munch on over the last few days in the city. While the prompter paced back and forth without any intent to act on the proposal, I eventually grew sick of observing time-wasting hesitation and slid open the door to alert the elderly lady within. The transaction was settled in a matter of minutes. We would probably left the area empty-handed had I not intervened for the sake of my own sanity.

​The box of Wang Mandu was taken to the nearby park for consumption. A few glances had been cast in our direction over the course of unboxing, but I hadn't thought much of it at the time. None of the middle-aged locals who had strode expressed opposition either.
It only occurred to me much, much later that signage had been affixed to the pillars of the rest area. Papago translated the sign to read "No food intake" and "No drinking". Prohibiting drinking in a public space in close proximity to a children's play structure was reasonable, however I couldn't fathom the cause behind nixing food intake. Despite garbage bins being removed from the site, we made sure to leave no trace behind by taking all wrappers and napkins with us. My excess plastic bags definitely came in handy!

​For a country with strict eco-bag policies, I must admit to finding the sheer quantity of plastic packaging contradicting. Both Ichon Market vendors had supplied complimentary plastic bags bearing their shop name. In addition, plastic packaging had been used by the mandu vendor to encase chopsticks and yellow pickled radish.

Excitedly opening the paper container, the lid was lifted to reveal steamed buns as opposed to the circular Wang Mandu I was expecting.
"This wasn't what you wanted right?" My browsing partner spoke up. "I was expecting dumplings, not buns."
And as was I.

Nevertheless, I was eager to sink my teeth into the plush specimens. Brimming with glass noodles, finely ground pork, and chives, each bite was extremely flavourful and gratifying. The accompanying danmuji slices were also far tastier than any variation sampled back home; these were a tad sweeter and devoid of the preservative-laden essence I knew all too well. A packet of soy sauce was also provided for dipping/drizzling onto the "dumplings", offering depth via savoury contrast.

​After depleting the box's contents, we collected all wrappers and napkins on the bench. We then retraced our footsteps back to Ichon station subway entrance and readied ourselves for the next stop.

Read Part 2 HERE !