Borderlands - into the Korean border DMZ

"You can see how we're surrounded on three points by North Korea," the American Army guide points  out. Our group is standing at a UN outpost on the North/South Korean border deep into the four -fortified, four kilometre line known as the DMZ.
It stands for De-militarized Zone, an area which runs along the 38 degrees North parallel which has separated the two parts of the Korean peninsula since 1953 when a bloody and brutal war for the peninsula ceased major hostilities.

Looking into North Korea with a plaque commemorating UN Forces

Map of DMZ at UN briefing

Myself and two friends joined a USO tour of the area viewing the complicated and intruging facets which make up the border area including once-clandestine tunnels dug by the north, an area which joins the two nations for meetings and observations outposts.
We were able to stand in a "thumb" containing a UN outpost which overlooks forest area, a minefield, North Korean outposts and the famous propaghanda village. So while the border seperates the two countries by some distance there are parts where you can grab a glimpse of one of the world's most isolated and introverted States.
Our tour began with a trip down tunnel 3, one of four made by the North in a suspected attempt to invade and discovered between the 1970s and 1994.

It's a long way under the earth at 80 metres and intriguing to see the walls carved by soldiers through the harsh volcanic rock. We were told about 30,000 troops could make their way through the tunnel in an hour, which I would believe judging by the two single-file lines of fellow tourists ploughing in and out of there. Would not recommend this if you are even the slightest bit claustrophobic as even I had trouble with the number of people and not being able to stand.
The next stop was Dorasan station which until recent political frictions was used every day to carry tourists and workers between the two states. It was quite eery when we were there as the station is abandoned so you are able to walk around and through onto the tracks, but we were surrounded by fog in the morning and the railway seemed to disappear into nowhere.

The eerily empty station

The tracks dissappear into the mist

After lunch we popped up to the tourist observation post which looks out over North Korea and the lush vegetation which has sprung up due to lack of human interference. We were also given a briefing on what we should have been able to see, but the fog kept the view reasonably short. What is hilarious about this area though is that there is a photo line about 10 metres back from the edge where you can't actually see anything so taking the camera here is a bit redundant.

The fog over the introverted North was quite metaphorical

The most exciting and interesting part of the tour though is being taken inside the zone itself where you can actually come face-to-face with the North Korean armed forces. After a briefing by US soldiers we are placed on buses with an Army guide and given strict instructions about where we are going and what can and especially, what can not be photographed.
As the bus heads through we pass minefields, tanks traps, road blocks and a whole number of intimidating sites including areas where fighting and ambushes have taken place in the past, then onto our first stop at the Joint Security Area. The JSA is a special area right in the middle of the border which has a number of huts which allow leaders from both sides of the peninsula to meet and is run by the UN and US forces.

The UN-controlled huts of the JSA

A North Korean guard can be seen standing on duty across the border

Stepping out into the courtyard, North Korean soldiers are clearly visible on guard posts and several South Korean guards are posted for our safety. We are allowed to enter the huts and for a brief couple of minutes step inside the boundary of North Korea.

Stepping into the North for a moment

The border runs down the centre of the table

From there we are taken to the outpost which sees us surrounded by the North and then down to the borderline and the poignant "Bridge of No Return". The bridge was the last point of exchange of North and South Korean prisoners of war after the end of major hostilities in 1953. Prisoners were released and told they could stay on either side or leave - but whatever decision they made could not be reversed. They could not return once the crossing had been made.

Bridge of no return - this was the last place many saw the other side of the border

An outpost on the DMZ surrounded by lush forest land

Following that was the gift shop, museum and then back to Seoul. It is quite a surreal experience stepping into and observing one of the most feared parts of the world but the hope of unification still exists in these areas.

The now non-functioning border gate

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.