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Dongmyo Station (동묘앞역) Line 1 – Station #127, Line 6 – Station #636

April 14, 2013

Dongmyo Station takes its name from the nearby shrine, built to honor the Chinese general and deity Guan Yu (162-219). Near-ubiquitous on the other side of the Yellow Sea, shrines like these are rare in Korea where, despite its long history as an on-again off-again vassal state to China, the strong Confucian tradition prevented worship of Guan Yu from ever really taking root. So it was probably rather reluctantly that Dongmyo (동묘) was built, from 1599 to 1601, under the reign of King Seonjo (선조), at the behest of the suzerain Ming Dynasty. A decade or so earlier, Ming forces had helped Joseon soldiers repel Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s invading Japanese during the Imjin War, a success that the Chinese attributed to the guiding influence of Guan Yu’s spirit. Accordingly, acknowledgement was expected.

Several of these Munmyo, as shrines to Guan Yu are known, were built in Seoul, but the one just outside of Exit 3 is the only one remaining and is recognized as Designated Treasure No. 142. Also known as Donggwanwangmyo (동관왕묘), the main shrine is formed by two attached buildings: the front section, or jeonsil (전실), is to be used for sacrificial rites, while the rear section, or bohnsil (본실) houses the statue of Guan Yu and some subordinate generals. Distinct from similar buildings in the capital, Dongmyo’s design and decoration, predictably, incorporate many Chinese characteristics, including the intricate brickwork and its narrower width relative to its depth. Though the main shrine building is closed to visitors, you can peer in through the wooden slats to view the large, gilt, seated statue of Guan Yu, his right hand raised and his beard reaching down to his knees. To his sides are aides and retainers.

On either side of the main shrine is a long wooden building, empty except for a large stone stele. Forming the fourth side of the complex’s inner courtyard is an inner gate, the walls of which bear paintings of musicians and perhaps servants. The paintings are badly faded, and it was only on the third time I walked through the gate that I noticed the faint outlines of human figures on what had at first appeared to be only slightly yellowed wood boards. Looking closely, however, I could make out some of the details: the folds in a pair of pants, horns held up by two men, another with what looked like a pair of small cymbals.

Surrounding Dongmyo is the Hwanghak-dong Flea Market (황학동 벼룩시장), which you’ll practically stumble into the moment you step out of Exit 3. Vendors line the sides of streets between Jongno (종로) and the Cheonggye Stream, particularly Jongno-58-gil (종로58길), where the deep burgundy sides and handsome black tile roofs of the adjacent shrine peek up from behind brick walls.

The median age of both vendors and buyers is somewhere north of 50, and interested parties stroll through the spillover from the larger area of flea market near Sindang Station: cleaning supplies, power cords, remote controls, artwork, comic books, portable cassette players, bass guitars, and just about whatever else you could throw on a pile, which, in some cases, is exactly how things are organized. Not everything here is junk – a few antique shops can be found in the back alleys nearer the stream, and even some decent vintage pickups are available; the shop just outside of Exit 3 sold L.L. Bean flannels, which I haven’t seen anywhere else in the city. And even if you aren’t looking to buy anything, simply wandering through and taking a close look at what’s there is sport enough. My favorite spotting was a sheet of stamps from Sierra Leone featuring the Disney characters, including one that pictured the head mouse himself operating a backhoe underneath the tag, ‘Mickey mining bauxite.’

So close to Dongdaemun, you know that the flea market isn’t the end of the idiosyncratic shopping opportunities available here. Dongmyo also provides quick access to a pair of specialty shopping areas we already visited via Dongdaemun Station.

Walking west from Dongmyo Station, Dongdaemun’s unmistakable vibe, that cocktail of ceaseless commerce and age, became more and more pronounced, and as I headed toward the old eastern gate from Exit 7 the sidewalk quickly got more and more filled up with street vendors. The streets and alleys south of Jongno between Dongmyo and Dongdaemun Stations are where you’ll find the Stationary and Toy Wholesale Market (문구, 완구 도매시장), Toys ‘R Us’ wild, chaotic cousin, where playthings both authentic and fake fill the area. Pink cellophane and cardboard box towers of Barbie and Barbie knockoffs stood alongside toy guns, English learning games, mountains of stuffed Brownie dogs, and Angry Bird pencil cases saying, ‘That’s the bomb!’ A string of plain white animal masks created a slightly eerie contrast with the otherwise cheery color palette dominated by bright blues, pinks, and yellows, and with the soundtrack of electronic chirps and squeals and recordings of kids singing bouncy, upbeat songs.

South of the toy market, is the Aquarium and Pet Market (애완동물 거리), most easily reached by heading straight from Exit 6. After passing a cell phone shop with a big sign that read ‘no visa ok!’ I reached the Cheonggye, across the street from which is the strip of stores that make up the market. Shimmering goldfish in tanks and the rocks and fake plants used to decorate their abodes were for sale, but so too were more exotic water dwellers like tiny aquatic frogs and water beetles (물방개). Land-based pets ranged from hedgehogs to mice to bunnies who slept huddled up together against the cold. The sound of the market was a nervous prattle raised by all the birds – common pet species like parakeets and cockatiels, but also chickens, roosters, doves, pigeons, and even a brilliant gold, brown, and ochre pheasant the color of autumn.

On the other side of the one-lane road, the Cheonggye Stream (청계천) continued its course toward the Han. A group of rocks created a small cascade, and upstream of this the stream’s surface was frozen. Water pouring out from underneath the firm shell tumbled over the rocks, leaving them wearing a fuzzy crown of ice and the water on the downstream side of the cascade unfrozen.

South of Dongmyo Station may be full of idiosyncratic shopping areas, but to the north it’s largely residential, though it hardly lacks for things of interest; they’re just a bit harder to turn up.

Out of Exit 9, I passed a corner market with fresh produce and big bowls of shiny black mussels set out on the sidewalk and turned left on Jibong-ro-5-gil (지봉로5길). Just a few steps up on the right is Naksan Naengmyeon (낙산냉면). I first discovered this place when we visited Changsin Station, though it’s actually closer to Dongmyo. I said it then and I’ll say it again: best naengmyeon in Seoul. Purists might take issue with it, as the one and only thing they serve here isn’t true mul-naengmyeon (물냉면) nor is it true bibim-naengmyeon (비빔냉면), but something of a mash-up between the two, the only choice being how spicy you want it. Perfectly chewy noodles; copious amounts of garlic, cucumber, and pears…I could go on. Simply put, this place is the business. Come any time even remotely around lunch or dinner and be prepared to wait. Lines often go out the door.

For no reason other than simple curiosity I followed Jibong-ro-5-gil past Naksan Naengmyeon, as it wound through the neighborhood, turning into a street lined with delivery motorcycles and mopeds, many with bars welded on behind the seat to provide a frame for goods loaded on the back. After a couple 90-degree turns I stumbled onto Anyang Hermitage (안양암). It looked small and rather anonymous, but it was there and I was intrigued by the huge rock slope that formed its southwestern boundary, so I decided to pop in for a quick look.

Instead of the usual fierce-looking door guardians, the pair on Anyang’s gates bore vaguely passive expressions. They held their hands folded in front of them and rode fantastical animals, the one on the left astride a six-tusked elephant, the one on the right atop a blue lion. The lack of aggression on their countenances seemed to validate the expectation that there really wouldn’t be anything special inside to protect, that this was the kind of temple neither human nor demon would bother with. Once I stepped through the gate, however, I discovered that Anyang did indeed hold something special, the Rock-carved Seated Guanyin of Anyang Hermitage (안양암 마애관음보살좌상), Seoul Tangible Cultural Property No. 122.

Carved onto that sheer rock face that had attracted me in the first place, the Guanyin is not particularly old, dating only to 1909, but it’s significant in that it was the last rock-carved Buddhist statue from the Joseon period. The plaque inside Anyang explained that the hermitage was slightly older, having been established by Monk Yi Seongwol (이성월 스님) in 1889. Among the structures there was the wood and brick Gwaneumjeon Hall (관음전), which had been built directly onto the rock slope to protect and enclose the Guanyin sculpture. Its doors were closed and I couldn’t see the sculpture itself, but visible outside the hall was an inscription that had also been carved into the rock: over 100 Chinese characters explaining the statue’s carving by a skilled mason.

I wasn’t sure if the Guanyin sculpture was off limits to the public, but no one was around and so I decided to give a tug on Gwaneumjeon’s doors. They stuck a bit but opened, revealing a figure seated in the lotus position within a shallow recess in the rock, a small altar and some unlit candles in front of him. Unlike many Buddhist statues, this Guanyin looked distinctly Korean, with narrow eyes, rounded cheeks, and a wide nose, underneath which was a thin moustache and goatee. On his lips there seemed to be a faintly pink hue, as if a small flicker of life existed within the carving.

The hermitage had a slightly mystical feel to it, created by its unexpected Guanyin image, its unusual rock formation, and its obscure location where I reckoned very few other foreigners had ever been. The surrounding neighborhood too was vaguely mysterious in the way that very old Seoul neighborhoods sometimes are, full of tiny little alleyways that were often nothing more than poured concrete slopes and staircases running through the narrow spaces between homes. Its agedness gave things a somewhat glum feel, which someone else had noticed and tried to ameliorate, as the area was spotted with bright, cartoon-y murals painted on the walls: a man blowing snot out of his nose, two girls flying atop a honeybee, another girl and her polar bear friend holding umbrellas.

One other mural, dotted with hearts, simply read ‘꿈 꾸는 학교길’ (Dreaming School Street), but directly behind it was a derelict home that looked like a haunted house straight out of central casting. A Western-style house, it had long been abandoned, and its façade was covered in dead ivy that also climbed up a crooked chimney. Windows were missing glass, and beneath the ivy, the house’s plaster was peeling off everywhere, so badly that in some spots it had disappeared completely, revealing sections of rotting wood.

Anyang Hermitage isn’t the area’s only Buddhist spot of note. Northeast of the station is Myogak Temple (묘각사), part of Korea’s Templestay program. The temple isn’t far from the station, and it’s well signposted so isn’t too hard to find. From Exit 2 turn left onto Jongno, then left again onto Jongno-63-gil (종로63길) and take the first right onto Jongno-63-ga-gil (종로63가길). Follow this as it curves uphill until you come around a bend and spot the colorful temple façade.

According to the Korea Tourism Organization, Myogaksa was established by Monk Taeheo Hongseon in 1930 in a spot where it was said the building of a temple would bring peace to Seoul’s citizens. That’s a pretty tall order for any one temple, but it does its best to offer it for at least a day or two with its one day or overnight Templestays, part of the popular Korea-wide program. For details on program specifics see the link above.

The temple is separated from the road and the world outside by a sturdy stone wall, but just through its doors a set of stairs to the left lead up to the temple’s courtyard. The courtyard is backed by a cliff where a stone Buddha is carved (much more typical looking than Anyang’s Guanyin figure), flanked by hundreds of tiny Buddha figurines lined up inside glass cases, each containing a tiny electric light that was lit up. In the rock wall above was a tiny gold-painted niche where a small Buddha, maybe 20 centimeters tall, sat, and further up and to the left another gold Buddha, this one standing on a rooftop, looked out over the neighborhood to the south.

On the courtyard’s left-hand side was a handsome building of wood and cream and clay-colored plaster, and on the right was a brilliantly painted hall, its main door covered in blue, red, white, and orange lotus carvings. I climbed the stairs to the hall’s second floor and peeked in an open door where an enormous drum occupied one corner of the room and hanging lotus lanterns covered the ceiling from wall to wall.

If instead of turning right onto Jongno-63-ga-gil you continue straight on Jongno-63-gil after leaving Jongno you can reach Sung-in Neighborhood Park (숭인근린공원). At the end of Jongno-63-gil, on your right will be Mirin Temple (밀인사) with its unusual façade and large white ball on the roof. Turn left onto Jongno-63-ma-gil (종로63마길). After a couple dozen meters you’ll go up a small flight of concrete steps, after which you should immediately turn right onto a tiny brick alley (not the second right up more steps). At the end of the alley will be a black metal fence with a small gate to the left – the entrance to the park.

Once inside, walking to the right took me right up behind the Buddha that stands on Myogaksa’s rooftop and then to a rough stone staircase running up alongside an empty stone water channel and into the main area of the park, a long plateau running along the top of the ridge the park sits on.

Like any other park in Seoul, Sung-in has plenty of exercise equipment, mostly of the lightweight variety aimed at senior citizens who just need to get a little movement in, but in the northernmost section of the park (also accessible from Changsin Station) there was some more serious equipment, an outdoor weight room essentially, and four ajeosshis were taking advantage of it, getting in a workout in the brisk cold. Sung-in is quite large, with quite a few badminton and basketball courts, a watercourse, and lots of trees. It also has a very charming touch that I hadn’t ever seen in a Seoul park: a little shelter with a small bookshelf labeled Dongmang Peak Open Book Café (동망봉 열린 북 카페) where visitors – primarily kids, from the look of what was on offer – could borrow something to read while hanging out in the park.

At the park’s southern end, near where the stone steps had dropped me off, was a lookout platform, and the views from the spot were long and clear. Just below me was Myogaksa. And there was Dongmyo. A bit to the right was Dongdaemun Fashion Town. And I was pretty sure that I could even pick out the bald rock face abutting Anyang Hermitage. The city continued well away to the west, but to my left, to the east, it ended, and beyond was a ring of mountains, some of them still capped in a crown of snow.

Dongmyo (동묘)

Exit 3

U-turn, Right on Jongno-58-gil (종로58길), Left on Nangye-ro-27-gil (난계로27길)

Hwanghak-dong Flea Market (황학동 벼룩시장)

Exit 3

Stationary and Toy Wholesale Market (문구, 완구 도매시장)

Exit 7

Left on Jongno-54-gil (종로54길)

Aquarium and Pet Market (애완동물 거리)

Exit 6

Straight on Dasan-ro (다산로), Right on Cheonggyecheon-ro (청계천로)

Cheonggye Stream (청계천)

Exit 5 or 6

Straight on Dasan-ro (다산로)

Naksan Naengmyeon (낙산냉면)

Exit 9

Left on Jibong-ro-5-gil (지봉로5길)

Anyang Hermitage (안양암)

Exit 9

Left on Jibong-ro-5-gil (지봉로5길)

Myogak Temple (묘각사)

Exit 2

Left onto Jongno (종로), Left on Jongno-63-gil (종로63길), Right on Jongno-63-ga-gil (종로63가길)

www.myogaksa.net

Phone: 02) 763-3345, 763-3109

E-mail: yeodiamond@naver.com

Sung-in Neighborhood Park (숭인근린공원)

Exit 2

Left onto Jongno (종로), Left on Jongno-63-gil (종로63길), Left onto Jongno-63-ma-gil (종로63마길), Right after first set of stairs

Tags:abandoned buildings, history, Jongno-gu, Line 1, Line 6, market, monument, park, restaurant, shopping, temple
Posted in Jongno-gu, Line 1, Line 6 | 3 Comments »

Jongno-3-ga Station (종로3가역) Line 1 – Station #130, Line 3 – Station #329, Line 5 – Station #534

January 1, 2012

If there’s one station that can be said to be the center of Seoul’s subway system, the nexus from which everything expands and to which it returns, it’s Jongno-3-ga. One of the system’s oldest stations, it’s also one of the few that connect more than two lines, and it sits right in the heart of the city, steps from tourist attractions, historical sites, and a smuggler’s den assortment of markets and specialty shopping areas. There’s an immense amount of things to see and do here, so without further ado…

Let’s start at Exit 1, where you can join the tourists streaming down Jongno (종로) on their way to Insadong. You’ll first pass by Tapgol Park (탑골공원), Seoul’s very first modern public park, opened in 1920 and built around Wongaksa Pagoda, a 10-story stone pagoda that’s listed as National Treasure No. 2.

Tapgol Park also played an important role in the history of Korea’s independence struggle, as it was here that Korea’s Declaration of Independence was publicly read for the first time, by a college student named Chung Jae-yong on March 1, 1919. A number of monuments within the park commemorate this heritage.

On the sidewalk outside the park’s western wall a dozen or so fortune tellers line up one after the other, offering saju or tarot card readings for 3,000 won, as well as face and palm readings. The fortune tellers each sit in a small tent. As the sun goes down and dusk arrives, bare fluorescent bulbs light the shacks from within, the glow spilling onto the darkened sidewalk as from lanterns, but the drawn plastic curtains maintain a veil of secrecy about the fates being divulged on their other sides.

Cross the intersection to the sidewalk opposite the fortune tellers and turn right to head up Insadong-gil (인사동길). Almost immediately there will be an alley on your left below a sign reading 피맛골 주점촌 (Pimatgol Pub Town). This is, or, rather, what’s left of Pimatgol (피맛골). Most people know the story behind the creation of Pimatgol, but it bears a brief repeating since it’s one of the most enduring, and winning, stories in Korean popular history.

As it is now, during the Joseon Dynasty Jongno was Seoul’s main street and was where the nobility and government officials would pass, requiring any commoners on the street to prostrate themselves when they did. To avoid this inconvenience citizens would use Pimatgol (‘avoiding horses alley’) to move back and forth unharassed.

Alas, like so many other places, the alley fell victim to urban development, beginning in the 1980s. Further west it’s essentially been eviscerated, replaced with high rise towers, but even here, although it’s still a narrow alley and there are a number of small restaurants and drinking establishments, as the sign notes, much of the character is gone.

On one side street, opposite the large 인사동코리아 gift shop and just a stone’s toss north of Pimatgol, is an easy to miss brown sign that points the way to Seungdong Church (승동교회), one of Korea’s earliest Presbyterian churches. Significant for its role in Christianity’s development in the country, this red brick Romanesque church is even more notable for the role it played in the development of the country’s independence. The night before the March 1^st reading in Tapgol Park, it was here, in the basement meeting hall, that student leaders met to discuss the next day’s actions.

The sidewalks at the lower end of Insadong (인사동) are crowded with carts selling everything from yeot to incense to clothes, from beondaeggi to jade jewelry to handmade journals. You’ll even find one stall where you can buy North Korean won as a souvenir.

Insadong-gil (인사동길) and the neighborhood surrounding it is filled with galleries, cafes, tea shops, and places for tourists to buy souvenirs, which run the gamut from schlocky t-shirts and trinkets to fine pieces of pottery and lacquerware. Despite Insadong being tourist central, it’s one of few such places where I don’t find the mass of visitors bothersome and the neighborhood best avoided. I actually like going there, and from conversations I’ve had with locals their general feeling is similar. Why is this so? Some of it stems, I believe, from the fact that Seoul just isn’t a tourist town the way other capital cities are, and so the tourists it does get are fewer in number and generally not of the rush-around-with-a-camera-and-act-obnoxious variety. Another key factor is that Insadong’s current character isn’t much of a departure from how it was in the past, with its long history as a center of the antique trade and its postwar status as the focal point of Korea’s artistic and café culture.

But the main reason I think that Insadong has weathered its emergence as a tourist district remarkably well is that it doesn’t cater to tourists at the exclusion of locals. Despite some pretty pathetic stabs at tradition, like hangeulized Starbucks and Olive Young signs, and the commercialization of tradition (Show me a culture that doesn’t do that, though, or a part of Seoul that isn’t commercialized.) it doesn’t feel like authenticity has been sacrificed too much in the process (though the thought occurs to me that it may feel this way because traditional Seoul has been so thoroughly sacrificed nearly everywhere else). The alleys just off Insadong-gil are filled with tea shops and restaurants that recall an earlier Korea in their wood-beamed architecture, devotion to traditional food and drink, and ambience that recalls a time before the country’s economic and tech boom. And unlike in so many tourist districts the food and drink here are actually quite good, which is why you’ll often find them crowded with locals while the tourist surge carries on just a few feet away. It’s also in some ways still just a local neighborhood, the kind of place where the convenience stores advertise cigarettes and trash bags on their signs, and workers sort through cardboard in a huge recycling yard.

The other major attraction near Jongno-3-ga is Jongmyo (종묘), a short walk from Exit 11. Constructed in 1395 under the direction of King Taejo, founder of the Joseon Dynasty, Jongmyo was built to house the memorial tablets of the dynasty’s deceased kings and queens. (The original structure, though not the memorial tablets, was destroyed by Japanese invaders in 1592. The current structure dates from 1608.) In 1995, its 600^th anniversary, it was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Six years later this honor was augmented by the listing of the Jongmyo Jerye (종묘제례), a rite for honoring the spirits of the deceased royalty, and the Jongmyo Jeryeak (종묘제례악), the accompanying court music, as Masterpieces of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO. The Jongmyo Jerye is performed annually on the first Sunday in May and is open to the public.

The shrine and surrounding grounds are remarkably peaceful compared to their contemporary surroundings. Dirt paths wind between patches of trees and small ponds, and you can hear birds chirping in the treetops. The atmosphere is matched by the lovely but austere buildings, which have none of the colorful and intricate ornamentation found on other royal structures. Buildings here are simple in structure and hew to a consistent burgundy and mint color scheme, a nod to the solemnity of their purpose. On Jongmyo’s main paths runs a raised, three-part stone walkway, the outer lanes reserved for the king and crown prince, the central one for the spirits.

Tablets of kings at Jongmyo (only two kings’ tablets are not enshrined here), are grouped together with their wife (or wives). An auxiliary hall called Yeongnyeongjeon (영녕전) (Hall of Eternal Comfort) holds the memorial tablets of Taejo’s ancestors and some lesser Joseon kings and queens, but the majority reside in Jeongjeon (정전), the main hall, a long one-story wooden building with a sloped black tile roof as tall as the story below it. Jeongjeon is divided into 19 rooms, one for each king enshrined there. Memorial tablets of 30 Joseon queens can also be found in Jeongjeon, together with the king they were married to. When a king or queen died the mourning period would continue for three years. The exterior of each room is absolutely identical – a door of vertical wooden slats punctuated by circular iron bolts – with the single exception of the central door, which bears a heavy metal lock on its frame. King Sejong’s room is the third from the left.

A wide stone plaza extends in front of Jeongjeon, surrounded by trees. Standing in it the only things you are able to see are the top of N Seoul Tower and the upper reaches of the Boryeong Tower in Jongno-5-ga. These, of course, were not around when the shrine was actively being used and the visual quarantine was meant to prevent worldly matters from intruding on the king’s thoughts as he performed ancestral rites and to preserve the tranquility of the memorial.

To visit Jongmyo you must join a one-hour guided tour – in Korean, English, Chinese, or Japanese – except on Saturdays, when the shrine is open to explore at your leisure.

The park areas on either side of the entrance to Jongmyo are serious oldboy hangouts where dozens of ajeosshis gather to kill time and do ajeosshi things together. West of the entrance hosts a huge congregation of games of, mostly, Go (baduk (바둑) in Korean) but also jangi (장기), Korean chess. It’s a bit like New York’s Washington Square Park’s chess corner on steroids – the day I visited there must have been close to 100 games going on, providing a background clicking as stones are set down so constantly it practically becomes some sort of mantra. As many men as there are playing (and it is exclusively men), there are an equal number watching, some of the more intense games pulling in crowds of ten or twenty.

Other ajeosshis were napping, chatting, or just sitting around. One group had drawn a small target on the pavement in chalk and was taking turns tossing coins at the bull’s-eye like school kids. Still others were practicing calligraphy or speechifying to crowds of fellow oldboys at loudspeakers that had been set up on either side of the park.

Also in the park, near the Jongmyo ticket booth is a statue of 이상재, a religious leader and independence fighter born in 1850.

Walking to Jongmyo from the subway station, your eye will likely be caught by the gleam emitted from the string of jewelry shops that cluster along Jongno, part of the Jongno Jewelry District, which, according to the Korea Tourism Organization encompasses over 1,000 stores in the area. The stores here are popular with locals and tourists alike, and generally offer prices below what you’ll find in other parts of town.

The district also extends into the backstreets, most easily accessible from Exit 8, where there are more jewelers, particularly wholesalers, and a number of gem cutters. All kinds of different stones sit in little trays in the windows, and in their unset state the colorful tabs look like small pieces of rock candy that have been polished to brilliance. Also in the area are a number of shops selling gift boxes, should you be looking for a special package to hold what used to be your paycheck.

One of the most noticeable aspects of the Jongno-3-ga area is that it has approximately the same median age as the shuffleboard courts in Boca Raton. Walking around you’ll frequently hear decades-old songs coming from shops and carts selling CDs and cassettes. That’s a whole lot of antiquatedness, but given the populace it seems oddly right. Just about everyone walking around seems to be over 50, and the vast majority of these are men. What does this mean? Well, it means that Jongno is the best place in Seoul for going tragic outfit-spotting. If Jongno had a coat of arms it would be plaids over stripes and studded with rhinestones. The single worst (or best, depending on your point of view) offender that I spotted was wearing a metallic silver shirt that had a red checked collar with blue and pink teddy bears on it.

This particular party animal, and others of his ilk, was out enjoying himself in the area around Exits 1, 2, and 2-1, which is full of old dudes getting their kicks at the local restaurants, bars, noraebangs, and, yes, love motels. On the left a short walk from Exit 2-1 a number of food stalls are set up in a small plaza that serves more or less as the center of the action. One side of the plaza is bordered by Tapgol Park’s eastern wall, and along this wall dozens of guys eat and drink, often heavily, at the plastic tables and stools that have been set up. Walking around, something about the scene felt a bit off to me, and it wasn’t until I’d been there a while that I realized I’d had similar sensations before, in Cairo and Tangiers. There were virtually no women around; the only ones I could see being those working in the restaurants serving up food and drinks.

Which brings me to my next point. I hereby petition to have Jongno-2-ga (종로2가) officially renamed the Barney Gumbel District, as the rates of alcoholism in this area must be some of the highest in the country. Retired and with nothing better to do, a lot of old men seem to simply spend their time here getting drunk. Several were slumped over those plastic tables or up against the park’s brick wall, empty makkeolli and soju bottles around them. There isn’t the menace in the air that can hang over a large collection of drunk young men, but there is a tinge of aggression; I witnessed one loud argument that nearly devolved into a fistfight. More than anything, I felt the neighborhood gave off a sour, abject air, a picture of how not to grow old.

Perhaps coincidentally, or perhaps not, the homeless are much more visible in the Jongno-3-ga area, and it’s not uncommon to see them sleeping on benches or pieces of cardboard, or shuffling down the sidewalk begging or pushing shopping carts. Seoul’s homelessness problem is insignificant compared to what American or British cities are used to, but that dearth makes their increased presence here, in the heart of the city, all the more jarring.

Just north of the Barney Gumbel District and Tapgol Park is the Nakwon Arcade (낙원상가), a large gray building on columns like stilts so that the traffic on Samil-daero (삼일대로) can pass where its ground floor would otherwise be. You can reach it via Exit 1 by turning right after Tapgol Park and walking past the fortune tellers or more simply by using Exit 5 and taking an immediate right.

Walking in the nearest door, the wail of a soprano drifted down the stairwell from somewhere up above. Covering two floors, the majority of Nakwon is devoted to the Instrument Arcade (낙원악기상가). If you can play it, you can almost certainly find it here, everything from electric guitars to trombones to harps. Some of the shops in the building are jumbled fish-and-finds; others are well-organized with instruments lined up in orderly rows, their wood and brass immaculately polished.

As I wandered through the arcade I caught snippets of people testing out violins, guitars, flutes, and drums. The effect was a bit like walking through a radio dial set to ‘scan.’ Moving through the streets of Seoul isn’t all that different, and as I passed from someone drawing a bow across the strings of a cello to someone else peeling off some riffs on an electric guitar I realized just how rare it is that one isn’t exposed to ambient music in this city, whether it’s music pumping out of a noraebang or cell phone shop or muffled beats seeping out of a subway rider’s headphones.

Besides instruments, there are of course also cases, amplifiers, mic stands, and any other accessory you might need at Nakwon. Rather oddly, however, the one thing it looks like you can’t find here are traditional Korean instruments – no gayageum, no janggu, no piri. It’s certainly possible that I simply missed the stores selling them, but I spent a good while in the arcade and didn’t see a single non-Western instrument. The surrounding streets, however, are home to a number of stores selling these things.

Make your way up to the fourth floor of the arcade and you’ll find Seoul Art Cinema (서울아트시네마). Decorated with lots of old movie posters, the cinema was quite quiet when I happened by, the guy working the snack bar eating dinner and watching TV.

While not as buzzing as your nearest CGV multiplex, Seoul Art Cinema screens movies you won’t be able to see anywhere else, ranging from global cinema to Korean indie flicks to periodic director retrospectives. There’s little English information at the website, but most films are screened with English subtitles. Look for the little circled ‘e’ next to film titles in the ‘Programs’ section.

Finally, in the basement of the Nakwon Arcade, below the Samil-daero traffic, is the Nakwon Market (낙원시장). Everything you’d expect to find in a market is here, but being underground the market experience comes in a more highly concentrated form. Stuffy, dimly lit, and slightly claustrophobic, stalls and merchandise are jammed even closer together, with stacks and stacks of cardboard boxes containing bulk produce sitting behind the stuff for sale, and the minimal ventilation rendered the usual market smells especially pungent.

North of Jongno is where all of the Jongno-3-ga neighborhood’s most well-known sights are, but the south side also offers plenty of interest, and that’s where we’ll be heading next, moving west to east.

Via Exit 15, the intersection around Insadong and and Tapgol Park is full of international chain stores, and yet more line Samil-daero as you follow it south. You’ll also come across the Cine Core building, in front of which are the bronzed handprints of several celebrities set in the sidewalk at the Star’s Handprint Plaza (스타의 광장 핸드프린팅). I didn’t recognize any of the names, but my celebrity IQ is pretty low, so if anyone is familiar with any of them please feel free to leave a note in the comments.

Just a few steps further and you arrive at the Cheonggye Stream (청계천). Not too far from its heavily engineered headwaters near City Hall, its banks are remarkably lush at this point, and willow trees droop over the water. There are of course walking paths on either side, as well as benches and stepping stones that cross the olive-hued water.

Across Cheonggyecheon-ro (청계천로), the street running along the stream’s north side, is a string of small shops, and all around men wearing construction helmets and driving mopeds buzz past, picking up or dropping off merchandise. Typical of the area’s tendency to clump similar businesses together in one area, many of the stores here occupy the same niche – you might call it Disaster Management Street – selling traffic cones, fire extinguishers, alarm bells, emergency exit signs, and flashing red lights.

Strolling up Donhwamun-ro (돈화문로), just before I reached Exit 14 I passed the Seoul Theater (서울극장), one of the oldest movie theaters in town, around since 1964.

When I reached Jongno again I turned east and noticed a pair of science supply shops flanking a small alley between Exits 12 and 13. Their windows were full of beakers, droppers, dials, scales, mortars, pestles, microscopes, and corkscrew tubes. Heading into the alley revealed nearly a dozen more similar stores, on this alley and one running parallel to Jongno – a high school chemistry teacher’s dream. Among the science supply shops were also a number of simple restaurants, which the sign above the ally, reading 종로 먹거리 골목 (Jongno Food Alley), tips you off to. Unsurprisingly, all of the clientele looked to be over 50.

After wandering about in the back alleys and recalling my high school days under the chemistry tutelage of Ms. Swiecki (just about the last time I was any good at anything science-related), I emerged back on Jongno. There, across from Jongmyo was a small plaza called Seun Greenway Park (세운초록띠공원). Not so far from Exit 12, this curious little spot looked like a patch of Jeolla-do farmland had been scooped up and airlifted to downtown Seoul. Along the sidewalk was a swath of gold-green dry rice (벼), the stalks’ heavy tops all bowed over like question marks, and when a breeze blew it would shake them and produce a barely perceptible rattle. Other crops – including broomcorn (기장), millet (조), and sorghum (수수) – were planted in adjacent sections, and between them were a couple scarecrows and an earthen sculpture of two peasants and their ox.

I strolled down the walkway between the crops, brushing my hand against their dried leaves as dozens of dragonflies flitted above, and tried to make up my mind about what I thought of this quixotic little place, tucked between the city’s main avenue and the huge and rather rundown Seun Arcade (세운상가) behind it. What was it doing here and what was the point?

A few signboards at the edge of the park answered those questions. From 2008 to 2009 a few dilapidated old buildings that had previously stood there had been torn down and the park put in their place, with the aim that it would be the first part of a greenbelt that would connect Namsan to Jongmyo. Who was behind this plan? Why, hara-kiri mayor Oh Se-hoon, which means that the greenbelt thing probably ain’t happening, at least not anytime soon.

From the park I continued east to the corner of Changgyeonggun-ro (창경군로) where I swung a right into the watch and clock market that takes shape in the alleys near where Changgyeonggun-ro and the Cheonggye Stream meet. I went past a few small, greasy booths where men doing repairs poked at the innards of watches with tiny little tools, small selections of new watches for sale laid out before them just in case the patient died on the operating table.

Shop walls in the alleys were practically wallpapered with clocks – analog clocks of every shape and design, digital clocks with glowing red numbers (always red), intricately carved cuckoo clocks – like some sort of German rail conductor’s fever dream. I pitied the man who worked here who was ever late for dinner with his wife.

The area between the watch and clock market, the stream, Jongno, and the station is jammed chock-full of electronic shops and walking through it feels as if you’ve been shrunk down and are walking through the innards of some giant machine.

There are of course things identifiable to the lay person – TVs, CD players, microphones, walkie-talkies – but there was also a huge amount of things that I had no clue what they were. All of these oddly shaped pieces with wires and dials…like little plastic and metal magic charms. They had to do amazing and sophisticated things, the sort of things that if I stopped writing to pause and consider how a small bit of pressure from my finger translates into a digital symbol on a glowing screen I would marvel at. Or maybe they just helped make my toast. It was like seeing a thousand puzzle pieces but having no clue what the puzzle looks like or even if they all belonged to the same puzzle or to entirely different ones.

After several minutes of this confusion, I stepped out of the electronic wilderness and back out onto Jongno. Jongmyo’s leafy enclave continued to hold the spirits of Korea’s past in repose, customers walked out of the jewelry stores with shiny new purchases in pretty velvet boxes, and across the street I could see a homeless man napping on a bench. I was left with only one question for myself: Was this city one puzzle, or a thousand?

Tapgol Park (탑골공원)

Exit 1

Straight on Jongno (종로)

Fortune Tellers

Turn right immediately after park

Insadong-gil (인사동길)

Exit 1

Straight on Jongno (종로), cross Samil-daero (삼일대로), right on Insadong-gil (인사동길)

Pimatgol (피맛골)

Exit 1

First alley on left after turning right on Insadong-gil (인사동길)

Seungdong Church (승동교회)

Exit 1

Left at sign on Insadong-gil (인사동길)

Jongmyo (종묘)

Exit 11

Straight on Jongno (종로)

02) 765-0195

Entrance

Age 7 – 18: 500 won, 19 and up: 1,000 won

Hours

Mar – Sep: 9 – 18:00 (last entry 17:00), Oct – Feb: 9 – 17:30 (last entry 16:30); closed Tuesdays

For tour times see website

Jongno Jewelry District

Exit 11 and 12

Nakwon Instrument Arcade (낙원악기상가) and Nakwon Market (낙원시장)

Exit 5

Take an immediate right

www.enakwon.co.kr

Seoul Art Cinema (서울아트시네마)

Exit 5

4^th floor of Nakwon Arcade

www.cinematheque.seoul.kr

Nakwon Market (낙원시장)

Exit 5

Basement of Nakwon Arcade

Cheonggye Stream (청계천)

Exit 13 and 14

South on Donhwamun-ro (동화문로)

Seoul Theater (서울극장)

Exit 14

Turn right out of exit

Science supply shops and Jongno Food Alley (종로 먹거리 골목)

Exit 12 and 13

Turn down the small alley between the exits

Seun Greenway Park (세운초록띠공원)

Exit 12

Straight on Jongno (종로)

Watch and Clock Market

Exit 12

Straight on Jongno (종로), right on Changgyeonggun-ro (창경군로), right into alleys

Electronic Shops

Exit 12

Straight on Jongno (종로), right after Seun Greenway Park

Tags:annual events, art, history, Jongno-gu, Line 1, Line 3, Line 5, market, monument, nightlife, park, restaurant, shopping, temple
Posted in Jongno-gu, Line 1, Line 3, Line 5 | 3 Comments »

Jongno-5-ga Station (종로5가역) Line 1 – Station #129 (And Korea Tourism Organization Goodstay Explorers Program Review of Hotel Lees (리스호텔))

August 14, 2011

While walking around Jongno-5-ga a friend remarked on how different Line 1 is from other lines linked to theSeoulmetro system – its rails and stations are noticeably older and more worn than its higher numbered lines’ counterparts. But, as he pointed out, it’s not just inside the stations that you see this. If someone were to blindfold you and drop you at random somewhere in the city, you could probably tell whether or not you were close to a Line 1 station. Since it was the first to be built, Line 1 naturally cut through the parts ofSeoulthat were the city’s focal points at the time, the early 1970s. Trace the first section that was opened, in 1974, and it leads from Seoul Station, down Jongno, through Dongdaemun, until terminating at Cheongnyangni. Despite how muchSeoulhas modernized in the 40 years since, these are still decidedly old-school parts of town – buildings are older, the major traditional markets fall along this line, and there’s a mustiness that clings to the neighborhoods along the line like moss. All of which, really, is fine by us.

What brought us to Jongno-5-ga was a request by the good folks at the Korea Tourism Organization to participate as Goodstay Explorers in their new Goodstay program. The KTO is putting its stamp of approval on motels around the country that meet a number of requirements, which I can sum up thusly: budget motels (under 100,000 won per night) that you’d feel comfortable taking your parents to. As Explorers our task was simple: pick one of the motels, stay there, and write about and shoot the motel and all the stuff we get up to during our stay. So in keeping with the spirit of the blog we decided to stay in Seoul and try out Hotel Lees (리스호텔) in Jongno-5-ga.

Hotel Lees is just a five-minute walk from Exit 1, a few steps west down Jongno (종로) to Jongno-31-gil (종로31길), followed by a right turn and another 200 meters. I called a couple days in advance to test out if they’d have someone able to take a reservation in English, which, unfortunately was not the case. A Chinese who was apparently only some type of part-time worker and couldn’t speak English or take reservations told my (Korean-speaking backup) friend to call back the next morning. When I arrived Saturday afternoon at about 4:30 to check in the receptionist working didn’t speak English either, though, being Japanese her 일본어 was obviously flawless and her Korean sounded pretty great to me. So while the lack of English-speaking staff was a bit disappointing, I didn’t find it unreasonable given the type of hotel Lee’s is and the type of visitors they generally cater to. And the Chinese and Japanese-speaking staff is a big plus for visitors from those countries.

Despite the lack of English, the receptionist was super friendly, helpful, and even complimented me on my Korean. (A total lie! But one that’s nice regardless.) My room wasn’t ready yet, still in the process of being cleaned, and I was asked to come back in an hour. That might sound quite late to someone used to morning or early afternoon check-in times in, say, American hotels, but given my experience with Korean motels that seemed to be pretty normal. So with an hour to kill I checked my bag and set off to start exploring. On the way out I noticed that the hotel had placed a bin of umbrellas near the entrance, free for guests to use. Very nice touch.

The backstreets north of the station exhibit that common Line 1 grittiness. On a quiet weekend day most of the businesses that were open were simple restaurants, most of those with ajummas sitting around idly waiting for customers. There were also some industrial businesses dotted about – metal shops and a warehouse where many coils of ribbed black plastic tubing were stacked up – and a couple hanok tucked in amidst it all. In an empty lot several construction workers were gathered around a table eating and pouring makkeolli. I also passed the Military Evangelical Association of Korea, which sounds absolutely terrifying.

Despite the predominating throwbackSeoulatmosphere, the area is showing signs of gentrifying, the prime signifier being the business that has gone from novelty to ubiquity in about five years: the café. Several small independent coffee shops – in noticeably nicer condition than the businesses around them – dotted the area, including House Coffee, just across the street from Lee’s, where you can grab an iced latte and sit on their small patio listening to John Legend. You could also step inside like I did, where I spotted a small card with a poem on it. This poem touched and moved me, and, if you’ll permit, I’d like to share it with you. Ahem…

C was once a little cake,

Caky,

Baky

Maky

Caky,

Taky Caky,

Little Cake!

So true. So true.

Northeast of the subway station, via Exits 3 or 4, the area is also fairly throwback, but the east side of Daehak-ro (대학로) is more about recreation than commerce. The area has quite a few bars and restaurants, most serving up solidly working-class fare: 메기탕 (catfish soup), 홍어 (skate), 감자탕 (potato and pork bone stew), and especially 곱창 (offal).

Of course, old-school grit brings with it its share of less savory aspects, and if you hang an immediate right down the alley Daehak-ro-2-gil (대학로2길) coming out of Exit 3, you’ll come across something that’s strange and very much off the radar of foreigners. In addition to several inns (여관) and noraebangs, the strip is something of a small red light district, with a number of hostess bars and places where near- or half-naked women stand around in glass windows. But what makes the scene more bizarre is that the businesses here cater specifically to older Korean men. The women are in their forties, signs advertise widows (과부), and several of the establishments are places where a girl will entertain you by playing the janggu drum (장구) or the gayageum (가야금).

Back on the main drag, this stretch of Jongno, especially west from Exit 1 but also east from Exit 4, is lined with pharmacies. Many of the businesses on Drugstore Street have been there for decades, the oldest being Boryeong Drugs, which opened in 1957, according to the JoongAng Daily. The places here are quite a bit bigger than your average neighborhood pharmacy, so if you’re after something that’s hard to find or simply want to cross-check prices conveniently it’s a good place to go.

Before going back to the motel I walked east from Exit 4 towards Dongdaemun, alongside a guy selling three different varieties of dried shrimp from a large wheeled cart and past an old man squatting on the sidewalk, letting the long ash from his cigarette fall onto the bag of bananas situated between his feet.

Shortly before arriving at Dongdaemun I turned left onto Jongno-4-gil (종로4길), where you’ll find the Jongno Flower Market (종로 꽃시장). The market is rather modest, just small stalls lined up back to back on a sidewalk, stretching for two blocks, but there’s a fair bit of variety – flowers, bonsai trees, seeds, pots, cacti, and even shrubs and saplings at the north end. Potted house plants are the most widely available offering here.

Just past the flower market is the rather moribund Chungsin Market (충신시장). Just a block long, the market seemed to consist mostly of restaurants, though some home goods and machine shops were also spotted. At 5:30 on a Saturday almost everything was closed.

Heading back to Hotel Lees I detoured down Jongno-33-gil (종로33길), the first right out of Exit 1. A few paces down is the Doosan Art Center which houses both a gallery and theater space and was where I met up with Liz and her boyfriend Andrew. The ground floor gallery had an exhibition by several different artists that combined painting and photography and hovered somewhere between the playful and the sinister. On the way downstairs you’re greeted by the matching red bronze sculptures ‘Big Boy’ and ‘Little Pig’ by the Chinese artist Chen Wenling. The basement level hosts theaters where until September 4 you can catch Spring Awakening, which won the 2007 Tony for Best Musical. The center also has one of those fun piano floors you can play on.

Back at the motel, room cleaned and ready, the three of us headed upstairs to check it out. It wasn’t big, but it was in good condition and provided all the basics that you’d expect. The big flatscreen TV was a nice extra, but would have been nicer if the remote control for it worked. Basic toiletries were supplied, the bed was really comfortable, and I was quite pleased with how clean the bathroom was (hair dryer didn’t work, though). Best of all, the air conditioning poured out a steady blast of cool air. Like I said, the room was clean, as were the sheets, the floors, and everything except the walls, which had several dead mosquitoes on them that had been swatted and just left there. Now, if I had to pick something in a hotel to be less than perfectly clean I’d go with the walls since, well, you just don’t touch walls very much, but, you know, that should be taken care of. And given the high state of cleanliness everywhere else it was strange that it wasn’t.

The most noteworthy feature of the Jongno-5-ga neighborhood is undoubtedly Gwangjang Market (광장시장), the oldest continually operating market in the country, doing business since 1905. The main entrance is just a few steps from Exit 8 (though Exit 7 will also put you right by one of the side entrances), and when we stepped in we passed a mountain of shoes and a couple stalls selling a potpourri of imported goods – from Planters peanuts to soaps and shampoos.

In addition to its longevity, Gwangjang is most renowned for two things. The first are its textiles, the focus of the bulk of the commerce taking place. You can pick up clothing and fabric here, and check out some of the vintage threads on offer as well. It’s the hanbok, however, that will come to mind when you mention the market to a Seoulite. Many hanbok shops are located within the market’s expanse, and the wedding specialists have dressed countless brides over the years. If you’re interested in having your own custom-made hanbok many tailors in the market will be more than happy to do the job.

You don’t have to be shopping or even come during normal business hours to enjoy Gwangjang Market’s second claim to fame. Gwangjang is home to Seoul’s largest collection of street food stalls: a gochu and oil parade that runs up one aisle and down the next. Lining the center of the main walkways and lit by the hundreds of fluorescent bulbs hanging from the curved metal roof is stall after stall filled with the holy trinity of chewy tteokbokki in spicy red sauce, crisp deep-fried mandu with bubbly golden skins, and long tubes of sundae, twice as thick as what you’ll see elsewhere. A woman at one stall was hand-cutting noodles for honest-to-goodness made from scratch kalguksu, while nearby and old man sharpened knives on a hand-turned sharpener.

The food that the market is most famous for, however, is bindaetteok (빈대떡), a thick pancake made from mung beans, and you’ll see many stalls and restaurants advertising it. The three of us picked one that was crowded with eaters and sat down on one of the wood benches ringing the stall. The cakes get fried up in a thin pool of oil that gives them a crisp golden exterior, while the inside stays softer, the consistency of a boiled potato. While we ate we watched the stall workers scoop mung beans onto a gently-sloped spinning stone wheel in front of us that ground the beans into the smooth pale yellow paste that would then be poured onto the griddle. Served with soy sauce and onion, the bindaetteok was delicious. It’s particularly good in cold weather alongside a bottle of makkeolli.

After our working man’s hors d’oeuvres we set off for our real dinner. Having come across it while exploring Dongdaemun but not having had a chance to give it a try, I wanted to go back to dalk hanmari (닭한마리) alley to taste a dish that I’d never had in three-plus years in Korea and that I almost never saw available anywhere else.

From Exit 6 we took the first left onto Dongho-ro-38-gil (동호로38길). This back street first runs past a bunch of outdoor supply stores carrying all kinds of hiking and camping gear. Several major brands, like Arc’teryx and Nepa, have branches here. The street narrows into a small alleyway and continues past a clutch of gopchang restaurants before you come to the small strip that’s lined with dalk hanmari and bosintang eateries. The three of us got a table at Myeongdong Dalk Hanmari (명동닭한마리) and ordered up.

photo by Andrew Haglin

Dalk hanmari, which just means ‘one whole chicken,’ is the bolder cousin of the more well-known samgyetang (삼계탕). I don’t much care for samgyetang – I find it bland and unappealing – and so was a bit unsure of my impending dalk hanmari experience. After we had ordered, a large metal bowl filled with water, potatoes, rice cake, and onions was set on the burner in the middle of our table. Then the waitress took the whole chicken that was also in the bowl and cut it into chunks while another worker mixed up a sauce consisting of some type of red pepper paste (not gochujang or any of your other usual suspects), garlic, leek, mustard, and soy sauce. After letting the soup boil for a while we dug in. The broth had taken on a pleasantly oily consistency from the chicken fat and on its own was the closest thing to chicken noodle soup I’ve tasted in Korea. But it was that sauce that made the meal. Dipping the boiled chicken and sliced onion in it was a revelation. It was distinctly Korean, yet not quite like anything any of us had ever had before in our combined decade in the country, and it made me wonder why anyone even bothers with samgyetang when there’s dalk hanmari to be had.

After dinner I decided to take a quick wander down to the Cheonggye Stream (청계천), just a block’s walk from Exit 6 or 7. It’s a peaceful scene here, far from its busy head near City Hall and not quite at the bustle of Dongdaemun’s night markets, and the stream flows slow and gentle alongside a wide walking path perfect for an evening’s stroll. I was crossing the street to get to the stream when I saw one of the most uncanny scenes I’ve ever witnessed in the city. Crossing the street in the opposite direction, inch by painstaking inch, was an old woman who must have been at least 80 and no more than four feet tall. Dressed in all white commoner’s hanbok, she carried a simple bag and aided herself with a polished twisted branch that had been fashioned into a walking stick, taller than she was and twisted into a gnarled stub at the top, like a wizard’s staff. The image was absurd, beyond any Orientalist fantasies even the most naïve romanticist would permit themselves, something that a director of propaganda films would dismiss out of hand for being too unbelievable. As she took a full minute to cross a single lane, impervious and indifferent to the traffic she was holding up, her presence felt impossible, as if time had misplaced her. In Jongno, though, there’s seldom a firm divide between the past and the present, and among the high-rises and neon lights, there she was, undoubtedly, until I looked back a minute later and she had disappeared.

Drugstore Street

Exit 1

Jongno Flower Market (종로 꽃시장) and Chungsin Market (충신시장)

Exit 4

East on Jongno (종로), left on Jongno-4-gil (종로4길)

Doosan Art Center

Exit 1

Right on Jongno-33-gil (종로33길)

Gwangjang Market (광장시장)

Exit 7 or 8

Outdoor supply stores, Dalk Hanmari Alley, and Myeongdong Dalk Hanmari (명동닭한마리)

Exit 6

Left on Dongho-ro-38-gil (동호로38길)

Myeongdong Dalk Hanmari Phone: 02) 2266-8249

Cheonggye Stream (청계천)

Exit 6 or 7

Hotel Lees (리스호텔)

Exit 1

Right on Jongno-31-gil (종로31길), continue approximately one and a half blocks

Phone: 02) 762-4343

Rooms: 50,000 won and up; Double room on a weekend is 60,000

Our Very Unscientific Goodstay Hotel Ratings (out of 5)

Friendliness: 5 – The staff was super nice, and not at all pushy about us being late for checkout. The free umbrellas available for guests was a wonderful touch.

Cleanliness: 3 – Common areas were in great condition, and so was the room for the most part. The dried mosquitoes on the wall, however, were not pleasant.

Comfort: 4 – Won’t be confused with a luxury hotel, but for 60,000 won we felt our room was a good deal. The room was big enough, the bed was comfortable, the shower was great, and the air conditioning worked wonderfully on a hot July day.

Location: 4 – Not especially easy to find, but a quick trip to Google Maps takes care of that. Within walking distance of Dongdaemun, Gwangjang Market, and Jongmyo, and a quick subway or bus ride from many ofSeoul’s other main attractions. The immediate neighborhood is quiet and pleasant.

Tourist Assistance: 3 – No English speakers (at least not that we dealt with) is a bit of a problem, but native Chinese and Japanese speakers on staff are a big help for guests from those countries. A number of tourist brochures were also available in the lobby.

Overall: 4 – At 60,000 won for a double we felt we got pretty good quality for our money. There were some small things we’d like to see improved, but the most important aspects were fine and the staff made us feel welcomed and comfortable.

Tags:art, Jongno-gu, Line 1, market, nightlife, park, restaurant, shopping
Posted in Jongno-gu, Line 1 | 9 Comments »

Dongdaemun Station (동대문역) Line 1 – Station #128, Line 4 – Station #421

June 26, 2011

It begins the moment you step off the subway. There, on the platform, a man calls out to passengers, hawking the belts laid out in compartmentalized boxes at his feet. Before you exit the station you’ll pass more people doing the same – with bags, with clothes, with battery-operated toys that flash and clatter – and then you go up the steps and you’re in Dongdaemun, where all this (and seemingly everything else) is happening, all the time.

Acres of wholesale markets pull in old-timers in search of bargains, while the malls that are the wellspring of Korean fashion summon the young and style-conscious. Sleek stores and developments coexist amicably with the gritty shops and restaurants that have occupied the innumerable back alleys for decades. Dongdaemun combines the crusty insouciance of the dockyards with the pulsing strut of the catwalk. Nowhere else in Seoul is quite like it.

The neighborhood is anchored by the eponymous Dongdaemun (동대문) (Great East Gate) (Exit 6) or, more formally, Heunginjimun (흥인지문) (Gate of Rising Benevolence). One of Joseon-era Seoul’s four main gates, it was originally built in 1396, though the current structure dates from an 1869 reconstruction. Besides being a beautiful example of traditional Korean architecture it serves as a useful reference point amid the often hectic surroundings.

The bulk of Dongdaemun’s shopping areas are south of the gate, Jong-no (종로), and Wangsang-no (왕산로), but the area north of here (Exits 1, 2, 3)is worth an aimless stroll as well, and keeping your eyes open rewards you with a series of the one-of-a-kind images that this area always provides. Ajummas with kerchiefs tied to their heads sell peeled garlic outside Nike stores. Mobile carts selling tapes and CDs blare old Korean pop music. Porters with merchandise carriers that look like miniature wooden chairs missing front legs strapped to their backs ferry goods back and forth. A man in a suit and tie pedaling a delivery trishaw loaded down with sacks of beans passes by.

This section of the neighborhood is also a decent place to look for dinner, as many restaurants lie off the main street. In the mood for something gritty and greasy and preferably served up by an ajumma with an ill disposition, I hung a right at Changsin-gil (창신길), the first side street you come to after u-turning from Exit 1, and on the first alley running to the left spotted a sign displaying a disembodied hand holding the tail of a deep red, dangling pig. This was Wageul-wageul Jokbal (와글와글 족발), and the sign, location, and simple metal door looked perfect. Inside was a bit of a surprise, however. I expected floors sticky with grease and soju and a clientele whose ages ran mostly north of 60, but it was clean, well-lit, and filled with a mix of twenty-somethings and, it must be said, admittedly rather stylish middle-agers. The niceness of it actually made me question if the jokbal would be any good. A second look around eased my worries as, despite the nicer than expected surroundings, the place clearly held no pretensions, and with tongues lubricated by alcohol and pig fat the clientele provided a boisterous atmosphere befitting the joint’s name, which, roughly, means ‘hullabaloo.’ The pork trotters we were served sealed the deal.

Another good option for eats would be to leave Exit 9, walk west down Jong-no to Jong-no-40-gil (종로40길), turn left there, and then hang a right at the first alley. A cluster of simple restaurants line this little passage, many specializing in grilled fish and dalkhanmari (닭한마리), chicken boiled in a soup. If you’re looking for a locals-only kind of place to fill your stomach, this wouldn’t be a bad place to do so.

And now, on to the shopping.

Head out Exit 7 turn left before Cheonggye Stream (청계천). This will take you past the shoe section of the market where both here and on the street immediately behind you’ll find store after store of sneakers, dress shoes, heels, and more, many of the kicks on display wrapped in protective plastic.

Much more exotic is what you’ll come to if you continue eastward: an area of pet shops specializing in more exotic fauna, particularly aquariums, and a late afternoon stroll through the area will reveal hundreds of goldfish glinting bright saffron in the setting sun while around you the nervous prattle and coo of songbirds fills the air. Besides fish you’ll find kittens, turtles, rabbits, hamsters, hedgehogs, ferrets, iguanas, roosters, chickens, ducks, parakeets, finches, and cockatiels. If you’re not familiar with Korean pet shops, it should be mentioned that the Korean attitude toward animals before they are bought and turned into part of the family is considerably less sentimental than what Westerners may be used to. While none of the animals I saw seemed mistreated in any way, they are kept in enclosures smaller than you might wish.

Turning north here I arrived in a warren of back streets where more aquarium shops were interspersed with barebones restaurants offering back alley foods like boshintang (dog stew) (보신탕) and seolleongtang (ox bone soup) (설렁탕). Further in (or more directly accessible by turning south after leaving Exit 4) the area is home to the stationary and toy market, making this the potentially most treacherous square kilometer in Seoul for parents. On the other hand, if you have a reliable babysitter, it’s the perfect place to outfit your little guy like a Joseon warrior; pick up kid-size backpacks, hiking shoes, and folding chairs for the budding outdoorsman; or to buy all the school supplies a young scholar could ever need.

Of course what Dongdaemun is most famous for is its place at the center of the Korean fashion industry. For decades this has been where Koreans have come to design, create, and wear the latest styles. If you’re handy with a needle, head to Dongdaemun Fashion Town (동대문패션타운), outside Exit 9. Here you can buy everything you need to be the next Andre Kim: lace, ribbon, bolts of fabric, and all kinds of supplies. Alternatively, buy your very own hanbok here. You’ll also find a selection of housewares here, from curtains to dishes to bedspreads.

Prefer letting others do the work for you? Cross Cheonggye Stream from Exit 7 or 8 to where Korea’s fashion center is centered. Along the stream are the many iterations of Pyeonghwa Market (평화시장), and behind these you’ll find a cluster of malls on either side of Heunginmun-ro (흥인문로). These malls, including Doota, Migliore, maxtyle, and Cerestar, offer several floors each of small boutiques with clothing aimed mostly at the young shopper. Although there are some high-end luxury goods to be had, most prices tend to be reasonable. Quality can vary and many boutiques offer the same items, so it pays to shop around. I personally do a good deal of my own shopping at Doota, which garners bonus points for having stuff that’s generally of higher quality as well as for the fact that its boutiques have changing rooms were you can actually try things on, a rarity elsewhere in the neighborhood.

With so many places offering so much it’s useful that many of these malls stay open virtually all night. And indeed, to experience the full force of the scene’s energy, it’s best to visit on a weekend night, when huge crowds, thumping music, and bright lights make the night come alive in ways impressive by even Seoul’s nocturnal standards.

One rather anomalous feature of the area that definitely won’t be open after midnight is the row of used book sellers running along the south side of Cheonggye Stream west of Heunginmun-ro. Although some of these shops are barely bigger than a walk-in closet you can find English material in several of them.

If the Dongdaemun Experience all gets to be just a bit too much, go out Exit 1, u-turn, and walk towards the main intersection. Near the corner is the Dongdaemun Church (동대문교회), and it’s here that the Naksan Trail starts. The path follows either side of the old city wall (reconstructed), beginning from either side of the church, and your walking experience will vary a bit depending on which side you take. In either case, though, the bustle immediately diminishes.

I went up the west side of the wall, where the path starts from an open plaza where the occasional guy wearing a ball cap, jacket, galoshes, and sparkly bra (outside his dress, oddly) may be sitting on a rock reading the paper. The path on this side is a bit rougher than that on the east, which is paved, but provides nothing more challenging than some large steps. The primary benefit to the western path is that it runs even with the wall, whereas the eastern one lies below it, and therefore provides superior views. From here you can look out over Dongdaemun and appreciate its commotion without being subjected to it.

The wall to your right, on the left is a neighborhood of modest old homes lining small alleyways that just beg to be explored, and indeed, a number of walkers and amateur photographers were out doing just that. It took a considerable amount of willpower not to join them and to simply admire the buildings and the laundry hung on clotheslines from the path, and on most occasions I would have dove straight in, but I was starting my Dongdaemun visit here and wanted to make sure I left enough time for the rest of the neighborhood. There’s always next time.

If you go undistracted by the dozens of alleys beckoning to be explored and arrive at the top of the hill, you’ll be treated with broad vistas of the surroundings from the tiered Naksan Park (낙산공원). You’ll also give yourself a chance to explore the alleys that lead west toward Daehangno and north and northeast into the area around Hansung University. The park has the usual paved plazas, athletics facilities, and groves of trees, but it also has a rather unique (if rusted and somewhat dilapidated) feature: in addition to the largely useless exercise machines so common in Korean parks, there’s a trio of actual weight machines for your lat pulldown and leg extension pleasure should you be so inclined.

Having come up the west side of the wall, I descended on the east, where the entire way is lined with a paved walking path. Great if you’re in heels, but it’s about three meters below the path on the west side and the wall cuts off any view in that direction. It does, however, have a feature missing from its more rustic counterpart and that is speakers placed along the path that provide some walking music, ranging from classical to the old ‘Cheers’ theme song, which immediately took me back to childhood evenings with my parents in front of the rabbit-eared TV in our Blaine, Wisconsin home. Heading back into the city, the path deposited me on a small side street running along Dongdaemun Church’s east side.

Dongdaemun, in its size and scope, can no doubt be overwhelming, if not downright intimidating, and any attempts to understand or even see all of it in one trip will only end in frustration. But keep coming back and this endlessly fascinating neighborhood will reveal new secrets over and over again, surprising you every time.

Dongdaemun (동대문)/Heunginjimun (흥인지문)

Exit 6

Wageul-wageul Jokbal (와글와글 족발)

Exit 1

U-turn, take your first right, then your first left

Phone: 02-765-0319

Restaurant Alley

Exit 9

West on Jong-no, left on Jong-no-40-gil (종로40길), right at first alley

Cheonggye Stream (청계천)

Exit 7 or 8

Shoe and Pet Markets

Exit 7

East along Cheonggye Stream

Stationary and Toy Market

Exit 4

Turn right

Dongdaemun Fashion Town (동대문패션타운)

Exit 9

Pyeonghwa Market (평화시장)

Exit 7, 8

Cross Cheonggye Stream

Fashion Malls (Doota, Migliore, maxtyle, Cerestar, etc.)

Exit 7, 8

Cross Cheonggye Stream

Used Book Sellers

Exit 7

Cross Cheonggye Stream, right on Jong-no

Naksan Trail and Park (낙산고원)

Exit 1

U-turn; the trail starts from just before the intersection, either side of Dongdaemun Church

Parts of this post first appeared in the June 2011 issue of SEOUL magazine.

Tags:history, Jongno-gu, Jung-gu, Line 1, Line 4, market, monument, nightlife, park, restaurant, shopping
Posted in Jongno-gu, Jung-gu, Line 1, Line 4, Uncategorized | 8 Comments »

Changsin Station (창신역) Line 6 – Station #637

August 21, 2010

Apologies for the long absence from posts; once again there were a number of things that kept us from getting out on the weekends, but hopefully we’re ready to get back to posting on a regular basis. In other, much better news, we’re happy to say that our good friend Angelique Kuyper will be joining the project to help with photography, and last weekend the two of us went out to Changsin Station, northeast of Dongdaemun on the six line.

The area around the station feels something like a cul-de-sac, as immediately to the station’s north the main road disappears into the Dongmang-bong Tunnel (동망봉터널) and the large hill above it is topped with a half-ring of apartment towers, while to the south Jibong-gil (지봉길) cuts a straight line to Dongmyo-ap Station (동묘앞역), running through the valley created by two massive gray-brown rock formations that stand a couple hundred meters back on either side. The two cliffs are huge, smooth, and almost perfectly vertical, but taper away as you head south, so the effect as you move in that direction is the feeling of leaving a little self-contained neighborhood that slowly lets itself merge into the larger city surrounding it.

Leaving Exit 1 we turned west down one of the first side streets we came across to get a better look at the cliff face, which at this point was only about a block and a half back from the main drag. At the end of the street a tiny alley under a sign for chili peppers, sesame oil, and wholesale delivery led through some closed-up shops and right up to the base of the cliff. Most of the doors in the rather run-down building were closed up, but because it was Sunday we couldn’t tell if that was just for the day or for good. One door was open, however, and inside were long tables, sewing machines, and bolts of fabric, along with a hula hoop hung up on the wall. At the alley’s entrance was a pyramid of about a dozen trash bags, all filled with clothing scraps. We noticed other trash bags filled with the same thing around the neighborhood, so it’s likely that Changsin-dong is home to a number of small shops that supply Dongdaemun’s huge fashion industry.

Back on Jibong-gil we passed an old man on the sidewalk who had a machine that air-puffed rice to make bar snacks attached to the back of a motorcycle. Every so often it would emit a loud bang and scare any nearby dogs whose owners had taken them out for a walk.

The further south we headed, the closer to Dongmyo, the more gentrified the surroundings got and the more the storefronts were occupied by large chains. A giant Lotte apartment complex could be seen up ahead on the corner, but off to the west the same views for much cheaper were enjoyed by the occupants of the old brick homes perched on top of the cliff and those further towards Daehangno, spread along the slopes of Naksan (낙산) like homes in an Italian hill town.

Getting off the main drag we turned west on Jibongno-5-gil (지봉로5길) and passed a naengmyeon restaurant, Naksan Naengmyeon (낙산냉면), that had a line of ten people out the door at 2:30. We of course had to know what the fuss was about, but decided to walk around for a while and hope the line had shortened by the time we came back. An hour later the line was gone but there was only one two-person table available, and just five minutes after we grabbed it the line at the door had reformed. In the approximately 45 minutes we were at the restaurant, there were maybe ten minutes when a table was empty, and this was during the trough of the mid-lunch-dinner lull. It was easy to see why. Naksan Naengmyeon serves one thing: bibim-naengmyeon (비빔냉면), and offers it at four different levels of spiciness, each for 5,000 won, and one extra-large size bowl for 6,500. Angelique got the soonhan naengmyeon (순한냉면), which came without any gochujang, and I got the teuk naengmyeon (특냉면), the extra-large size. Both came with generous amounts of cucumber and pear, just the right amount of garlic, and, in my case, gochujang. Angelique named it the second-best naengmyeon she’d ever had; perhaps a bit less widely-eaten, I called it my favorite.

While waiting for the line to diminish we walked through the tiny (And I do mean tiny. At some points I could practically touch both walls just by sticking out my elbows.) alleyways on either side of Jibong-gil. It was a really lovely neighborhood that was completely untouched by the development that had taken place just a block or so away. The alleys wound around between snug old homes and took us past some lovely old wooden doors and more trash bags filled with clothing scraps. Almost all of the faces we saw on the back streets were old ones, and I wondered if they’d lived in the area most of their lives or if development had priced them out of nearby areas where they used to live.

Just a few steps from Exit 2 on the station’s north side, a long staircase leads up the hill above Dongmang-bong Tunnel to a collection of apartments and a church, and the walk up offers great a great view down Jibong-gil to Dongmyo and beyond.

At the top of the hill we crossed Naksan-gil (낙산길), and directly on the other side of the street was a large area of tiny alleys and old brick houses, almost identical to those we’d walked through a few minutes ago, but with one major difference: every home here was tagged with a sign that it was marked for redevelopment and would be torn down.

It wasn’t clear how long the houses had been necessarily abandoned, but in small ways nature had already begun to reestablish itself, enormous spider webs being the most apparent evidence – one particularly large one near the neighborhood’s entrance held at least 50 of all different sizes.

Knowing that the buildings were going to be torn down and pounded into rubble, many of the ex-residents had chosen to simply leave behind unwanted possessions, and by peeking through cracks and broken windows, or by stepping through the occasional door that had been left open, it was possible to get a glimpse of the lives that used to be lived in the homes. A bookshelf, a bike, a laundry basket, a dish rack, pillows and blankets, boots, a Dora the Explorer videotape.

Walking further into the neighborhood opened up lovely views of Bukhansan (북한산) in the distance to the northwest. It was easy to see why this was valuable real estate, and why these homes were going to be torn down so that a developer could build another expensive apartment complex in their place. Looking west across the valley to the other slope I could see that the entire expanse was filled with more empty structures, each bearing the same sign on their front like a white flag, an entire neighborhood of dead homes.

We had seen no one else and thought that every house was empty, but walking back out to the street we spotted an ajumma coming out of one of the homes. When she walked down its front steps our view of her was blocked by a wall, so it was unclear if she was packing up some final possessions, scavenging for things left behind, or if she was holding out till the bitter end.

When we left the neighborhood behind we followed Naksan-gil as it curved back down toward the station, and it eventually brought us across the Jeongeobwon Site (정업원 터), Seoul Tangible Cultural Property No. 5.

After succeeding his father Munjong (문종), Danjong (단종) became the sixth king of the Joseon dynasty at age 12. He was soon overthrown by his uncle Sejo (세조) and exiled to Yeongwol in Gangwon-do, where four years later Sejo decided, just to be on the safe side, that he should be murdered, and the sixteen-year-old was burned to death in his home. According to the story on the plaque at Joengeobwon, when Danjong was sent into exile this was where his young wife, Queen Jeongsun (1440-1521), lived, looking toward the east and wishing for his well-being and, after he died, where she continued to live in mourning until her death. A couple centuries later King Yeongjo learned that this was where the sad queen had lived and erected Jeongeobwongugi (Stele of Jeongeobwon) here in 1771. A corresponding temple served the yangban class.

Although Queen Jeongsun lived at Jeongeobwon, when she wished to gaze in the direction of Yeongwol and her departed king, she would walk north and climb the nearby peak of Dongmang-bong, the same peak we had just visited, where now a neighborhood sits waiting to disappear.

Naksan Naengmyeon (낙산냉면)

Exit 1

South on Jibong-gil (지봉길), Right on Jibongno-5-gil (지봉로5길) 20 meters

Jeongeobwon Site (정업원 터)

Exit 3

Follow Naksan-gil (낙산길) to the right of Dongmang-bong Tunnel (동망봉터널). Continue as it curves around; Jeongeobwon will eventually appear on the left side of the road.

Photography for this post provided by Angelique Kuyper.

Tags:abandoned buildings, history, Jongno-gu, Line 6, monument, restaurant, temple
Posted in Jongno-gu, Line 6 | 2 Comments »

Seoul Sub→urban

Posts Tagged ‘Jongno-gu’

Dongmyo Station (동묘앞역) Line 1 – Station #127, Line 6 – Station #636

Jongno-3-ga Station (종로3가역) Line 1 – Station #130, Line 3 – Station #329, Line 5 – Station #534

Jongno-5-ga Station (종로5가역) Line 1 – Station #129 (And Korea Tourism Organization Goodstay Explorers Program Review of Hotel Lees (리스호텔))

Dongdaemun Station (동대문역) Line 1 – Station #128, Line 4 – Station #421

Changsin Station (창신역) Line 6 – Station #637

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