Folk village

Korea is a country defined not only by its rapid pace, work-hard lifestyle and bustling streets, but by its rich and well-recorded history.
It is a sad fact when I first planned on travelling to Korea I explained to a friend I liked history and “old things” to which he replied it was hard to find here because so much was destroyed in the war in the early 1950s.
One way the people have shown themselves not only recovered but prospered during the last six decades is a way of honouring the past through folk villages, where their past is recreated in a touristy, but humble and classy way.

One of the most famous of these is the aptly-named Korean Folk Village in the Seoul satellite city of Yongin.
Built in the early 1970s, and based on the Chosun Dynasty which ran the place for 500 years until 1897, as a way of tourist promotion and history keeping the village has recreations of everything from traditional pottery kilns, houses, musical instruments and temples.

I visited in winter and the snow on the eves and trees surrounding the area made it look fantastic, even though the weather did cut out some performances and activities.

Korean architecture is given added beauty in the snow.

While it is a created atmosphere, the approach to history recreation is quite proud and charming and the staff manning the houses show real enthusiasm for keeping the old ways alive.

The old ways represented as best they can.

Work still to be done in the hanbok - Korean traditional dress

I would recommend leaving plenty of time as the site of 260 traditional houses is absolutely huge and growing, the museum on site is enough to keep you occupied for a while.

Spoiler points for the jarring children’s theme park which seems to pop up out of nowhere when strolling across one of the many bridges criss-crossing the passing stream and a few tacky souvenir stands.
This is a good first stop for those wanting to escape the city and find out a little bit about the country’s history.

Jindo Parting of the Seas Festival

What do tigers, the parting of the sea and giant orange gum boots have in common; the Jindo Miracle Sea Road Festival, of course.
The festival over the weekend of April 25 to 28 on Jindo Island is celebrated every year when the sea parts to allow thousands to walk across the ocean, if it sounds unique you’re absolutely right.

Thousands walk across this narrow stretch of mudflat, reliving a tale from deep in Korea's past.

I had not heard much about the festival but received an urgent message from a friend on the Friday to get to Gwangju as the sea was going to part and it was not to be missed.
About four trains later I was in Gwangju and keen to learn more so it was off to Kino Bar, a trendy little spot which has just about any song you could want to request in almost any format.
Over a few beers friends told me the sea forms a walk-able path between the villages of Hoedongri and Modori on different islands, just long enough to allow people to cross a natural 40 metre-wide bridge.
I knew I had made the right choice in coming and this was clearly not to be missed.
After a trip through the popular dance club Bubble and a few hours sleep we were on the first bus to Jindo Island, which is very accessible by bridge and public transport, then a local bus to the village of Modo which in all took about three hours - phew.

Long bus rides with my buddy Adam have become frequent but fun occasions.

The first trip back to the sea after a couple of months was welcome relief.

On first entering the festival, which was actually huge, we purchased giant, thigh-high orange plastic boots which everyone seemed to be wearing and a cup of fried chicken on top of a soda.

Orange thigh-highs be sex-ay

The place was huge and teeming with people and every where you looked seemed to have some kind of performance or attraction, great fun but it appears it pays to check out Korean festivals thoroughly beforehand to see the best sites.

Flavour and fun are trademarks of any good Korean festival.

Come late afternoon people began to drift down to the water and we followed suit as thousands upon thousands stretched out across the 2.8 kilometres between the villages.
The event is significant as it involves a folk story of a lady named Grandma Mulberry who braved tigers to live on the island by herself while others escaped and one night prayed to end her loneliness.
Lo and behold the next day the sea parted and the village came back to visit her, then she died. That’s the story, but it now brings a pilgrimage of crowds every year to celebrate the phenomenon.
I have to say the parting of the sea was interesting but the people really made the day.

Watching young couples collecting seaweed and grandparents teaching the kiddies to dig for clams and the perpetual smiles on the faces of those enjoying a drink or eat in one of the hundreds of stands really made the day.

When we donned our bright boots the locals were forthcoming in approaching and giving their approval and a few laughs which was great too.
The festival side of things was not too different from other events in Korea but seeing the mass stretched out across the sea in some sort of aquatic pilgrimage was really incredible.

Where have you been?

Nearly five months of living in Korea have given me a wealth of stories, of which I have posted none! Well done.

Flying the flag on a ferry ride out to Docho-do on Korea's South-West coast.

But I have found a bit of time so I will be throwing a few things up in time to come, they will be a bit out of order and a bit hurried but it's good to get this thing going again.

Cheers,

Andy

Cheerio New Zealand

On Saturday morning I'm off to South Korea for about six months and there is a lot I'll miss about New Zealand, but this photo about sums it up.
Taken in Opotiki in the Eastern Bay of Plenty this is one of my favourites I've taken during my time working for newspapers and unfortunately it never made it to print anywhere.

Dog time in Brown’s Bay

Everyone owns a dog in Brown’s Bay. Freaking every one. A pop down to the beach before 10.30am or a walk around any neighbourhood in the Auckland North Shore suburb and they are there.

Being walked, being swam (with owners), being watered and fed (every café has a water bowl and I once saw one being fed steak chunks prepared by the chef at one of the restaurants) and as the topic of discussion.

You see, when you have a dog you are not just adopting (purchasing) a companion but a club, the dog walker club – and the shore is full of members.

I would know, I recently spent an extended weekend as part of the chosen few who call this affluent, international and my God, pretty area home.

I between views of the Hauraki Gulf, it’s big island and the chalky cliffs it is sandwiched in between, all a short passage from the city, especially in the boats every also seems to own there, it’s quite stunning.

But that’s obvious, wealthy people live in pretty places and they walk their dogs at any given time, regardless of what their errands are in the areas small but convenient shopping area, the dog comes too.

My trusty companion during my dog-sitting weekend was Axle – a huntaway-something-a-rather, which I spouted more times than I can count, because those in the club, want to know what its members are up to.

“What’s his name?” “How old?” “What breed?” “What do you feed him?”

These dog people are a unique breed (heh), because even when you answer them, they feel they need to make up their own as if they did not hear you or answer one which was not asked.

“I think he’s Doberman.” “His colour is a bit rottie” – did you ask the question just to tell me I was wrong?

I had one lady in her 60’s explain that her daughter “about your age” got a huntaway too, because she lived in South Africa and liked the security, and her old dog died before she moved and she missed him.

What is the prescribed response to that? – I came out with “Okay, have a good afternoon.”

There is the eclipsing visage of the cat person being the shut-in who shuns their fellow humans for feline company, but dog people are the opposite – you have to be social.

Even when I’m bowled up by two yapping miniatures not four-inches toe to ear who tangled up Axle’s lead, I have to be a good member, even just a casual one.

You can’t just extract the dog from the post and your legs, and his legs and the bush and move on, you have to have the talk.

“How old?” “What is he?” – then the unrequited reply – “This one’s four, he won’t get any bigger, they rule the roost here” – all from a middle-aged guy who looked like your local mechanic, even as he cooed over his two tiny monsters.

“Oh well, must be moving on,” I say.

Getting home and in the January eat it’s scorching and Axle is panting before he slurps a drink as we walk in the door and he passes out on the carpet.

Not a bad idea and I do the same.

An hour later and we both awake needing to pee so outside we go to do the business.

Yep, dog time in Brown’s Bay has it’s rewards.

There’s a satisfaction in that every moment is an adventure for the dog, so even doing bugger-all means you feel like you achieved something because your buddy has had a good time.

Doing nothing was never so much fun.

Wacky winter weather in Opotiki

It's been cold as a father polar bear's disappointed stare some days around the Eastern Bay, makes me glad I'm near the coast and not down in the valley.

But it's produced some rad sunsets and foggy mornings during the past couple of weeks.











Whale Island features a lot because it's directly in front of where the sun goes to sleep.

I keep telling myself that sunset shots get really boring but can't help myself pulling big red over and taking a snap on the way home.

Waiotahi Beach is always a good spot. Often a few people pull over to enjoy the view.

 And Bryan's Beach is always a favourite.

And it's even been thundering and lightning-ing, haven't worked out how to take a decent picture of that yet , but this one shows how bright it was, just about as light as day.

 

Tauranga Track - pioneering day walk

The Tauranga Bridge Hike

Sometimes its good to get away, even if only for a couple of hours.

Taking the Tauranga Bridge Track about 30 kilometres from Opotiki takes about two hours and offers just enough hiking adventure to make your Sunday feel purposeful.

With a French couch surfer and one flatmate we packed up and headed onto the track which extends through the Waioeka Gorge for about two hours, even at my fatty pace.

The track takes you out into the gorge along the Tauranga River and at times you are able to walk through grasslands giving the feeling of complete isolation even after just a few minutes.

The day we completed the hike was after some severe weather events meaning plenty of water kept the river at its peak and mist on the hills giving an adventurous feel to the day.

The trip starts with a picturesque walk across the old-timey Tauranga Bridge, once the old access for farmers and loggers doing it rough in the valley, which was resurrected in 1995 to accommodate travellers.

This loop trail presented a slight problem from the start when we found the start of the trail submerged in water so a bit of backtracking and we were on our way.

Flatmate who had completed the trail once before was sure there was less water the first time.

On the trail home you need to ford the river which had swelled some and the look of it feeding into the mighty Waioeka, stained brown from torrential rain looked ominous.

But a quick test showed it was not so deep and a pass was quick once boots were removed.

Continuing on back home the swollen river made for stunning back drop even with a shirt soaked with sweat and burning lungs from yours truly, it was still magnificent.

Just about done we had to ford the stream again with the help of a rope, which once again made for wet shorts but was easily passable.

A great trip for all fitness levels but a great feeling of being out in it despite the odd bit of litter on the trail.