[KOREA ON FOOT]Day 25, Seoul ... finally

Yongjusa temple is located on the outskirts of Suwon. Though razed to the ground during the Qing invasion of 1636, a temple has stood here since the 9th Century. The surrounding urban sprawl, on the other hand, dates back only thirty years. I reached the temple before sunset, having trekked 40 kilometers that day. Having slept in half a dozen temples during my trip I felt reasonably assured I would not be turned away. I ended up with the last remaining guestroom where, I was provided a wooden pillow and a brick of rice-cake.

Having used more yos than beds during my time in Korea, I`d still not entirely gotten used to sleeping on the floor. I woke at seven, feeling in my kneecaps a premonition of old age. After showering, my day began as all the preceding days had begun since leaving Daegu: by reapplying bandaids over my blistered and callused feet. Then, after breakfasting on seaweed soup, tofu, rice and kimchi, I was provided with a broom and joined the monks in sweeping the courtyard. By 8:30, I had made my goodbyes, and was on my way once more.

In spite of the rice-cake weighing down my rucksack, I enjoyed a lightness of spirit, now knowing my walk was nearly at an end. Since leaving Daejeon, the joy of walking had lessened by the day and to ease the long miles, I had fixed in my mind a pint of Guinness in a pub somewhere in downtown Seoul. Knowing Suwon was the final stop before attaining this goal, I spent a good while walking around the 18th Century Hwaseong fortress. King Jeongjo, remembering presumably what had become of Yongjusa, built the wall to protect his father`s tomb, a wall that runs for 6km. I covered half of it before venturing off into the side-streets. With their houses of redbrick and tiled roofs, I was reminded of residential areas I had seen in Seoul years before (in fact, much the same as every large city in South Korea). Little details that one comes to forget - the vinyl-covered benches outside of convenience stores, crisscrossing utility cables - made me never feel too far from Seoul, no matter where in the country I was.

Yet under the May sun, the final approach to Seoul was a lugubrious one. The road beside me was congested and I walked beneath a faceless line of apartment buildings, their sheer number attesting to the rapid expansion of Seoul`s satellite towns. Only the trimmed dwarf pines standing in front of doorways reminded me I was in the Far East.

Throughout my trek I had never really considered where the finish line ought to be. The area around Seoul Racecourse seemed enough like Seoul to me and I hopped on a subway, where I dropped my bag, squeezed onto a seat beside dozing businessmen and office girls chatting on their mobile phones, and cooled the thump in my brow on the metal handrail. Fifteen minutes later I surfaced in Itaewon.

The pint of Guinness didn`t disappoint and I sat at a table in the far corner of the pub (where the smell of my boots could cause the least notice). The chatter from the surrounding tables reeled about me, and though mostly in English, it was as indecipherable as another language, punctuated now and again by a cheer from around a pool table. There were more foreigners in this one room than I had seen throughout my trip: TEFL teachers on their day off and GIs in backwards baseball caps.

The Korean waitress asked if I wanted anything else. Taking stock of my boots and rucksack, she asked if I had been walking.

"I`ve just walked here from Suwon."

"Impossible!" she said. She soon left me to my drink. I looked out over the Itaewon strip, with its stalls of tourist tat, al fresco cafes and junk food outlets. It wasn`t the most authentically Korean end to my trip, but nevertheless, it felt like the end.

By Jonathon Ving



(jonathonving@gmail.com)