Gyeongbokgung Palace and Insa-Dong

The palace is one of the most visited and photographed sites in Korea, and it seemed like a good idea to put it at the top of my list, if only to scout out some food and biking locations, as well as getting used to the subway. And, of course, there's that whole "culture" thing.

Admission is 3,500 won (about $3), and I tagged along for a free English tour. From Vienna to Versailles, every big foreign metropolitan area I've ever been to has one of these pleasure palaces, where tourists flock to see where a king slept or took a dump. Don't understand the attraction, but I always play along! Gyeongbokgung Palace is a collection of buildings in the center of Seoul where the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1897) got off to its start. The duration, timeline and setup remind me a lot of Topkapi Palace in Istanbul. And like Topkapi, you must enter through a forbidding gate. This is the Heungnyemun Gate, one of four.

A detail of the gate.

Koreans are as friendly and helpful as any people I've ever encountered, so I feel bad for saying this, but I couldn't understand a goddamn thing our English-speaking guide said, aside from the word "king."

I think this is Changgyeonggung Palace, but it might be the Hall for State Affairs. I am a little embarrassed to say all these buildings look the same to me. You can't go inside any of them, and they're basically empty, having been cleaned out of their treasures and furnishings during the Japanese occupation of 1910-1945.

So while the peninsula has been continuously inhabited since before biblical times, the Republic of Korea is only 64 years old. No country on Earth has had such a meteoric rise in such a short time. It is a historical anomaly, never to be repeated. When my father was in college, this was a peasant society. It now is the 15th-largest economy in the world, and fourth-biggest in Asia, trailing only China, Japan and India. A bit of the ceiling:

So, yeah, this dopey guy. He's a Korean-style gargoyle, or haetae, designed to ward off misfortune. They're not scary, like the screamy European gargoyles, so I figure Koreans at the time had a better sense of humor.

Me in front of the Hyangwonjeong (or possibly Gyeonghoeru) Pavilion, basically the king's backyard. Must've been nice! Steps from where I stand, Empress Myeonseong was assassinated in 1895. No, I don't know why. Chalk it up to "palace intrigue."

Exiting this compound to the northwest, I encounter the Blue House, where the wildly unpopular President Lee Myung-Bak does his statecraft. Maybe you can make out the roof outline. Sorry about that, but you can't get anywhere near the Blue House without a tour reservation made days in advance. I got in trouble for attaching my Gorillapod to the railing to get a steady shot.

Plainclothes security guys are everywhere. One was dressed like a bum, but one of those sly earpieces was a giveaway. In 1968, a team of North Korean commandos filtered through the hills behind the Blue House in an attempt to kill President Park Chung-Hee. They got within 800 yards of the building before being killed and captured. So, no, this ain't beanbag.

Nearby is a museum of sorts called the Cheongwadae Sarangchae. A rough translation could be "salon" or "meeting place," but I could be wrong. It celebrates Korean culture, and to an unnerving extent, the presidency. Seoulites are most proud of hosting three things: the 1998 Summer Olympics, the 2002 FIFA World Cup and the 2010 meeting of the G-20, and here's where the magic for the latter happened.

Finally, I'm the Big Dog on the block.

Which earned me a ticket to an audience with the first couple.

And, eventually, to the presidency itself. (Real desk, real chair, real me.)

So why, one might ask, would a country that has racked up all these global successes unintentionally demean itself with the following catchphrase?

Didn't catch the defensiveness? Here's another reminder! It's like the winner of the Masters going around saying, "Ain't my swing pretty?" Nation-states are weird.

Seriously, I hope when Lee gets drummed out of office this December, he doesn't kill himself like his predecessor. In America, former presidents christen libraries and give $100,000 speeches. In Korea, they jump off mountain cliffs. This country has the highest suicide rate in the developed world, so something strange is going on. Folks are under a lot of societal pressure, for sure.

Nearby I wander into the "traditional" neighborhood of Insa-Dong, which features a lot of tourist schlock alongside what appear to be legit shops selling expensive Korean art.

I enter the cheapest hole in the wall I can find, kick off my shoes, sit on the floor and order a spicy tofu-and-seafood stew. (Stew is pronounced like "jee-gay.") Side dishes are no additional cost -- in this case they brought me the ubiquitous fermented cabbage kimchi, anchovies, fried crab and some kind of vegetable. Only 5,500 won (five bucks). Go on, you've got 5 seconds to dig in!

 

bubbling.stew from Sluggh McGee on Vimeo.