Apart from a dramatic bout of the flu life has taken a much needed turn for the better. I seem to have tapped back into an energy and enthusiasm I've sorely missed in the past few months and am much more content and grounded for it. Nature and I have been working hard at patching up our flailing relationship and are communicating much better. In fact quite loudly. My calves are still aching from Saturday. I accidentally climbed a really big mountain looking to see what a signpost (that I couldn't understand)pointed to! Monika and I went on a mission to discover Namhansanseung Fortress. On the edge of Seoul Namhansanseung Park forms part of one of the many mountain ranges that ring the city.
We got off the bus and followed the pilgrim of middle aged hikers in their high tech outdoor gear and gaudy polyester hiking socks that look like $2 golf socks in lurid greens and pinks and purples! Walking up small alleyways selling everything you might never need for a casual afternoon walk we stared up at the park in awe and I jumped up and down in excitement.
Passing by a small temple in the foothills we wandered in to peruse and pay our respects. Outside a tree is ladened with beautiful handmade paper lanterns; inside a thousand buddhas sit contemplating, i counted them! A back entrance leads onto market gardens, farmers tenderly lean over their crops and the hum of bees from nearby hives intermingles with the haunting strains of Korean traditional music. I sit under an accommodating tree and think that this is a place I could spend a lot of time.
We spend the day finding excellent rocks and trees to sit on and in, watch ants scurrying and try to identify the blossom that permeates everything. A stream cools our feet and provides icy drinking water. We baptise each other in it and rejoice in the spirit of the mountains.
I am tempted by a sign and walk off up the windy path. Monika elects not to come; "call me if its interesting". Up and up I go and then I spot the rope tied between the trees so you can literally climb the mountain. This must be a really good lookout I think to myself. I've been walking for a while and think I must be nearly there, wondering if I should go back for Monika. Higher and higher. I'm out of breath and my lungs hurt like they haven't in a long time. Cheery
faced hikers pass me coming down and I wish I knew how far. The path must go to the top. Too late to go back now, I can see the tops of the tree tops and I have no idea how long I have been struggling but its been a long time. As I reach the top, the path bends and goes up dramatically in another direction and the top is still another 50 metres up. Tease of a mountain. I'm almost there and it pulls the same trick on me again. and again. and again!
HOW MUCH FURTHER my thighs and calves scream in agony.
My lungs are incapable of any sound except wheezing.
10 steps up. 10 deep breaths. repeat.
The top is amazing. I can see half way across Seoul.
It would be further if it were a clear day. The mountain has conquered me and won't let go. After I have rested and the waterfalls from my pores slow to a steady trickle I think about going back but am entranced!
And the best thing is on the way home I discover a bus that goes right past my school and takes less than half an hour to get there.
Yesterday morning I went bushwalking up the hill across the canal that has been enticing me for weeks. Sometimes it looks really close and other times it could be halfway across Seoul. I went on my first mission bike ride last week to check it out. I rode around the base for an hour, looking how to get past the fenced off market gardens up the mountain whilst marvelling at the real houses with real gardens surrounded by real nature. On the way home i spotted an enticing path chasing the tree tops. Wandering up I'm seduced by the rosy peach light filtering through the clouds turning the forest into faeryland. Dappled pink on red soil and a rainbow of green. I feel like a goldfish caught in the headlights of a myriad of colours. Tripping out, only able to take in 8 seconds at a time before it all gets too much and my brain overloads in ecstacy. Crossing a ridge the traffic sensations from below fade out to be replaced by the soothing scent of rich humus and pine needles.
I spot what I think is a red squirrel. Tiny. It pauses and sizes me up, tufty ears wanting to belong to a scottish terrier, twitching nervously. A toilet brush joins the base of its spine, madly following, as the critter runs up trunks and makes death defying leaps across the canyons of sweet forest air onto a supple twig. Birds I have only seen in Korea tap into the bark of trees. A cross between a kookaburra and a kingfisher is a bad description but the best way i can describe the patches of pink and blue and brown on a largish body with a fat head and a short strong beak. On the way back down, hoping for a shower before school, more rodents. I don't know. Spunky little dudes with many stripes running down the length of their body. What does a chipmunk look like?
Parks with patches of grass have grown into mountains. A bike path runs down the canal towards the Han River which splits Seoul in two. An invitation yet to be explored. Summer is knocking at the door, I've broken out of my urban nightmare and life is good.