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Hangangjin Station (한강진역) Line 6 – Station #631

March 10, 2013

Practically every neighborhood in Seoul undergoes changes on a weekly basis, some quickly, some slowly. Hangangjin is one of the quick ones, and is steadily turning itself into one of the trendiest, most culturally fresh areas of the city.

If any one thing can be said to have kickstarted this transformation, it’s likely the arrival of the Leeum Samsung Museum of Art (삼성미술관 Leeum) in 2004, which, among other things, shows that once in a while Samsung does something more than just make money.

Located just a short walk down Itaewon-ro-55-gil (이태원로55길) near Exit 1, the first thing visitors encounter is the outdoor sculpture garden, which, at the time of my visit featured a trio of pieces by the renowned London-based Indian artist Anish Kapoor, co-designer of the ArcelorMittal Orbit tower that twists above London’s Olympic Village and who was the subject of Leeum’s current Special Exhibition. The first piece I came to was titled ‘Vertigo’ (‘현기증’), a pair of curved stainless steel rectangles. Like your breakfast spoon, their concave side inverted and flipped everything they reflected, messing with the viewer’s perspective and causing a mildly unstable feeling. The structures’ convex sides sat about two meters apart and reflected each other, creating a Russian nesting doll of the same image, each progressively smaller than the last. In addition to ‘Vertigo,’ the garden also held ‘Tall Tree and the Eye’ (‘큰 나무와 눈’), stacked stainless steel orbs like air bubbles rising from the deep, and ‘Sky Mirror’ (‘하늘 거울’), which did exactly as its name implied.

The museum itself is trisected, three different permanent collections in three different structures by three different internationally acclaimed architects. Museum 1, designed by Mario Botta, houses the Leeum’s collection of traditional Korean art, which contains some three-dozen designated national treasures. Visitors begin their tour on the fourth floor, where the celadon (청자) collection is housed before proceeding back down to the lobby, through the collections of Buncheong ware and porcelain (분청사기 / 백자), paintings and calligraphy (고서화), and Buddhist art and metal works (불교미술 / 금속공예) on subsequent floors. Exhibition spaces are nearly completely dark, the only light coming from subtle spot lights that illuminate individual vases and scrolls, giving the galleries a solemn, almost religious feel.

Museum 2, its building the product of Jean Nouvel, holds the modern art collection. The second floor houses Korean modern art (한국 근현대미술) – quite likely a great unknown to anyone who isn’t Korean, the first floor international modern art, and the basement contemporary art. It’s an impressive collection, as a quick listing of names will attest: Koons, de Kooning, Rothko, kimsooja, Twombly, Giacometti, Bacon, Gilbert & George, Nam June Paik, Basquiat, Warhol, Cindy Sherman, Zeng Fanzhi, Damien Hurst. My personal favorite in the collection – not the best or most groundbreaking, but the one that spoke most closely to my interests and that I stared at the longest – was a work by the Korean artist 박이소 (Bahc Yiso) called ‘드넓은 세상’ (‘Wide World Wide’). On an enormous light blue canvas, above a map formed by their names written out in Hangeul in a barely visible sky blue script were pinned hundreds of small white papers, each bearing the name of a place that managed to at once capture both the exoticism of the world’s geography and the fecundity of its languages: Araraquara, Erhchiang, Nagykanizsa, Bobo Dioulasso, Oshkosh.

The third section of the museum, the Samsung Child Education and Culture Center (삼성아동교육문화센터), was designed by Rem Koolhaas.

The second institution serving as a major cultural anchor for the neighborhood is Blue Square (블루스퀘어) performing arts complex. Accessible directly from the station, it is Korea’s largest performing arts hall, with space both for musicals and concerts as well as cafes, a florist, a candy shop, restaurants, and souvenir shops. ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ was in the middle of a run during my visit, and the main lobby had displays of costumes, a Phantom photo booth, and fake roses curling around the bases of the stairs’ handrails.

Coincidence or no, Samsung has their enormous hands heavily involved in Blue Square as well, with the two main theaters poetically being called the Samsung Electronics Hall (삼성전자홀) and the Samsung Card Hall (삼성카드홀). All the romance that went into naming those also went into the building itself, which, in stark contrast to the Leeum, is incredibly bland architecturally, its mirrored blue glass façade making it look more like the resident of a suburban office park than a theater. Offering a little bit of contrast is the structure behind the main building called NEMO, which, aping Platoon Kunsthalle, is made of orange and yellow shipping containers and was hosting a children’s performance called ‘Hello! Madagascar.’

The Leeum and Blue Square are indicative of the greater Itaewon area’s tendency over the last few years to get less and less scruffy, a tendency that’s well apparent in the Hangangjin neighborhood, particularly as you get closer to Itaewon. If five years ago you had told me that Comme de Garçons would open their Seoul flagship store here and not in Apgujeong, I never would have believed you. But there it is, selling its 400,000 won-plus hoodies just a few steps past the turnoff for the Leeum. And just a bit further down Itaewon-ro (이태원로) is Beaker, which pairs a Williamsburg aesthetic with Cheongdam prices: Band of Outsider flannels, bike accessories, 33,000 won soda can-sized bottles of artisanal shampoo.

Not every new wine bar, restaurant, and boutique here is wallet emptying, thankfully. Shops like Millimeter Milligram, not far from Exit 3, add to the offbeat, artistic atmosphere with quirky stationary, bags, and art supplies, and plenty of cafes provide a place to pause between shops or exhibitions. One café that particularly stands out is Take Out Drawing (with another location in Noksapyeong), which, in addition to using organic and fair-trade products, also offers two-month artist residences, the second half of which include exhibitions of the residents’ work. The café’s ‘newspaper’ has, alongside the menu, small profiles of current artists in residence in both Korean and English.

When it comes to eating in Hangangjin, Brazilian churrascarias, Japanese izakayas, and Spanish tapas joints, among others, contribute to an internationalized dining scene. Hangangjin’s cosmopolitanism is just as evident if you turn off Itaewon-ro onto Daesagwan-ro (대사관로), or Embassy Street. Running southeast from Itaewon-ro, it’s, naturally, dotted with embassies – Thailand, Kenya, Côte d’Ivoire – as well as the Lao ambassador’s residence, more international restaurants, and cafes and boutiques catering to the locals.

Daesagwan-ro connects to Hannam-dae-ro (한남대로), and walking along the latter between the station and the river gives you a chance to play a bit of embassy spotting. (If you cross Hannam-ro via the pedestrian bridge near the Daesagwan intersection you’ll also get clear views of N Seoul Tower, the minarets and onion dome of the Itaewon mosque, and the Seoul Finance Tower in Gangnam.) Among others I was able to pick out the flags of Vietnam, Spain, Burma, Bulgaria, and Italy, which, almost too neatly, had an olive Vespa parked out front. In addition to the embassies, Hannam-dae-ro (or, rather, down long driveways leading off of it) is also where you’ll find the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court’s Residence, the Speaker of the National Assembly’s Official Residence, and the official residence of the Minister of Foreign Affairs and Trade, the last of these gated and watched over by a soldier with an extremely large gun.

If instead of turning right down Hannam-dae-ro after leaving Exit 2 you cross the pedestrian bridge that runs over it, to your left you’ll see a Harley-Davidson store that stands in front of a small residential neighborhood. Turning down the small side street there, Hannam-dae-ro-40-gil (한남대로40길), took me past a small collection of stone statues – horses, pagodas, a reclining Buddha – and soon led to an entrance to Eungbong Neighborhood Park (응봉근린공원), a large wooded hill cut through with walking paths. There were also some tennis courts, badminton courts, playgrounds, and a square, but most of the park was left to the trees.

Of course, for an even bigger park, there’s always nearby Namsan Park (남산공원), which is easy to get to from Hangangjin. Just go out Exit 1, U-turn, and follow the sidewalk until it ends. There go up the steps to the left, cross the street, and you’re just outside the park. At that point there was a sign pointing to a mineral spring (남산약수터), only 200 meters away. I followed the sign up the driveway of an adjacent wedding hall, and by the time I made it past the parking lot things had already gotten remarkably calm and quiet, the traffic on Hannam-dae-ro just a faint murmur. The path to the spring then took me past a small artificial stream, its water frozen where the course led over a small drop.

The first time I arrived at the spring I walked right past it, not realizing what it was. My image of the spring was that it would be something bubbling up from the ground, but the Namsan spring instead poured out of two narrow metal pipes that jutted out of a stone wall on a wooden platform. (Unfortunately, the spring water here is not fit for drinking.) As an elderly hiker pulled a radio playing old pop music out of his bag and carried it with him to the adjacent exercise equipment, water poured out of the pipes in a steady stream, falling into stone basins underneath. One of the basins was crusted up with ice around its edges; the other was not, as the water flowing out of that pipe had better aim, and poured neatly into the drain.

Leeum Samsung Museum of Art (삼성미술관 Leeum)

Exit 1

Right on Itaewon-ro-55-gil (이태원로55길)

leeum.samsungfoundation.org

Phone: 02) 2014-6901

Hours | 10:30 – 18:00, Closed Mondays, New Year’s Day, Seollal, and Chuseok

Admission | Adults – Permanent Exhibition 10,000, Special Exhibition 8,000, Daypass 14,000; Kids, Seniors, Handicapped – Permanent Exhibition 6,000, Special Exhibition 5,000, Daypass 8,000 (9,000 for kids)

Blue Square (블루스퀘어)

Exit 2 or accessible directly from the station

www.bluesquare.kr

Take Out Drawing (Hannam Branch)

Exit 3

Straight on Itaewon-ro (이태원로)

http://www.takeoutdrawing.com

Phone: 02) 797-3139

Hours | 11:00 – 00:00

Eungbong Neighborhood Park (응봉근린공원)

Exit 2

Right on Hannam-dae-ro (한남대로), cross pedestrian bridge to the left, right on Hannam-dae-ro-40-gil (한남대로40길)

Namsan Park (남산공원)

Exit 1

U-turn, Straight on Itaewon-ro (이태원로), Up stairs and cross Soweol-ro (소월로) to park

Tags:art, Line 6, museum, park, restaurant, shopping, Yongsan-gu
Posted in Line 6, Yongsan-gu | 2 Comments »

Yongsan Station (용산역) Line 1 – Station #135, Jungang Line – Station #K110

May 20, 2012

It may serve as Seoul’s secondary train depot, but say the words ‘Yongsan Station’ and the first thing anyone thinks of is the sprawling electronics and technology market occupying the neighborhood to the west, an agglomeration of shops and buildings so large, so jumbled, and so exhaustive in its offerings that anyone who is not either a rabid technophile or a veteran explorer of the market may, by the end of a visit, find themselves entertaining fantasies of trashing their toaster and moving to a cabin in Idaho. Tech-heads, on the other hand, may feel they’ve died and gone to heaven.

While not quite a Luddite, I definitely fall into the former category, and after a few tepid visits to the market in the past I was hoping that this visit, with more time and less purpose, would finally be the one to, if not quite give me a sense of comfort with the place, at least ease my sense of panic when I go there. But first, I had to get out of the station, which offers its fair share of reasons not to.

If you take the subway to Yongsan, you’ll exit through the station’s central hall, a bright, cavernous space crisscrossed by singles and small groups on their way to or from a train. Beneath the molecule and UFO-like sculptures hanging from the ceiling, other passengers sit around snacking on ice cream, watching one of the station’s TVs, or merely staring into space waiting for their boarding time as the echoing announcements of a delayed train bounce off the walls.

After exiting through the central doors, a wide corridor separates the station from the I’Park Mall. Before going inside, though, I walked up the steps just outside the exit doors to what’s called the Event Park, an open plaza that, for the moment at least, held a small ice rink. It was slowly melting in the early March sunshine, but about eight or nine determined girls continued to cut their way through the slush.

Walking back down, I entered the first floor of the I’Park Mall, which is actually the third floor as ground level is a couple stories down. Immediately I was greeted with solicitations of ‘Hello, camera. Digital camera. Mp3,’ from the eager salesmen whose booths line the fluorescent-lit aisles. For many people the I’Park Mall is the first (and sometimes only) encounter they have with Yongsan’s electronic commerce, and although it’s more convenient and certainly nicer than the market proper, prices here tend to be higher as well, and the salespeople can be a bit on the pushy side. The 3^rd floor holds mostly cameras and mp3 players, the 4^th floor more of the same, along with home appliances like TVs and vacuums, and the 6^th and 7^th floors laptops (including a small area labeled ‘Laptops for Foreigners’). If you turn back towards the station you’ll escape the gadget glut for a bit and end up in regular old mallsville: clothes, housewares, food courts, etc.

Keep taking the escalators up, though, and on the top floor you’ll come to the rather unassuming looking E-sports Stadium (전자경기장), where the battles in Korean computer gaming’s top league, the SK Planet Starcraft Pro League, take place and are filmed for broadcast on the TV channel dedicated to the video game. I’d been wanting for quite some time to watch some professional gaming live, not out of any particular interest in Starcraft (of which I have none), but because when one is in a foreign land it’s both edifying and entertaining to observe the natives as they pursue their traditional sport. I’ve been to a bullfight in Seville, an intra-city soccer derby in Rome, a muay thai bout in Chiang Mai, and a shopping mall in Singapore. Starcraft in Seoul was naturally next on the list.

Luckily enough, I happened to stumble upon a competition taking place. The arena(?) is about the size of a large café, and was packed – standing room only. The crowd, which was 90% male, either sat in the rows of gray plastic chairs at the front or merely stood around, shoulder to shoulder, in the open space at the back. On either side of the room, in front of banners bearing the names and logos of the League teams (Samsung KHAN Pro Game Team, Air Force ACE, CJ ENTUS), teammates of the present competitor sat in more plastic chairs, watching the action and awaiting their turn.

Their gaze was directed at an enormous video screen at the front of the room that broadcast the action (if that’s the right word), occasionally cutting away for brief shots of the competitors’ faces, which remained perfectly inscrutable throughout the match. The competitors, dressed in tracksuits bearing the logos of various sponsors, like a NASCAR driver’s jumpsuit, sat in large angular glass boxes at either end of an elevated stage. Between them a trio of announcers kept up a rapid-fire running commentary, and although the players wore headsets I wondered if the play-by-play still seeped in, which would provide the strange sensation of hearing your decisions analyzed and critiqued as they were being made.

Before even the gameplay, the first thing I noticed when I walked in (Which you can just do, by the way. Admission is free.) was how incredibly quiet the crowd was. For anyone who’s been to a baseball or soccer game here, or even just watched on TV, you know how loud and enthusiastic Korean sports fans can be. The audience here, though, conducted themselves exactly the way one does when one watches TV or sits in a PC bang: largely silently, minimal blinking. In the ten minutes it took for the two competitors to build up their armies from the time I entered, the crowd, so much a part of the live sports experience, did almost nothing. It wasn’t until the first attack that a very mild Ooooh rose up from some of them and one guy off to my left, looking for some sort of outlet for his excitement, hopped up and down in place a bit.

And yet, as I watched and as things vaguely started to make more sense, I began to get the appeal of the game, not just as a game but as a spectator sport. Its draw lies in the excitement of watching a war where something is at stake, but nothing matters. There’s no carnage and no consequences, but there are all of the things that make battle entertaining: strategy, conflict, the victor, the vanquished. I love those TV shows that chart out and reenact the strategies, the mistakes, the gambits, and the sheer dumb luck that led to historical military conflicts turning out the way they did. Watching how an army of Zergs overruns an army of Terrans in real time isn’t all that different from watching how the English fleet did the same to the Spanish Armada or how the French outlasted the Germans at Verdun.

Finally, after about 20 minutes, a brief round of clapping and a few tentative cheers went up. It was over. The guy with the red things had defeated the guy with the blue things.

Turn left out of the station exit instead of walking directly into the mall, and you’ll arrive at the top of a large flight of steps leading down to Station Plaza, a paved space with some benches and a giant metal ring off to the right. From the top of the steps, a couple stories up, you can see several skyscraping apartment towers in the distance, their newness and shine a match for the structure you’re currently standing in, with its spotless waiting room, E-Mart and CGV Imax. In the near distance, though, just across Hangang-daero-23-gil (한강대로23길) from the plaza, things look quite different. Several shuttered businesses are visible, along with the tops of scaffolding, and, a bit further up the street, empty buildings that have had some of their upper floors half-demolished.

Along with its electronics market, the other feature that the area around Yongsan Station used to be known for was the red light district just across from it. Until relatively recently, the parallel street only one block back from Hangang-daero-23-gil was lined with pink-lit rooms where girls waited for customers behind full-length windows. That’s all gone now, as the city has focused on development and gentrification, but a walk down the backstreet revealed that a handful of those glass rooms are still there, only now there’s tape over cracks in the windows and all that’s inside is broken glass and other detritus. Mostly, things are just gone, torn down. Several lots along the alley are just piles of rubble: chunked concrete and metal behind cloth-covered fences.

It’s not just the red light district that’s seen the end of the line here. Across from the Yongsan E-mart was a collection of well-known gamjatang restaurants, but these too have been gutted, and in the area behind them partially demolished buildings wait for the coup de grâce; for now their upper floors gape half open like a cross-sectioned diagram. Even more than in other parts of the city, the redevelopment of Yongsan has been particularly contentious, with residents having claimed inadequate compensation and intimidation by armed thugs. Fierce opposition by some of the area’s residents to their forced evictions reached a tragic culmination in January 2009 when police raided a building that Molotov cocktail-armed protestors had occupied. At some point in the ensuing battle a fire broke out, and by the time things had ended five protestors and one police officer were dead.

But the struggle over the future of Yongsan is not yet over. The 2009 fire occurred in Yongsan District 4. When I left the station I noticed a long banner that had been strung up directly opposite Station Plaza proclaiming ‘We are not giving this land to thieves.’ It was signed the Union of Yongsan District 3 Residents.

Finally, the moment came for me to venture into the Yongsan Electronics Market (용산전자시장). Taking a deep breath I headed across the long covered walkway that leads from the side of the corridor opposite the steps to Station Plaza, over what’s currently a large empty lot, and into the market’s first building, Yongsan Terminal Mall (용산터미널상가). Similar to the tech part of I’Park Mall but older, Terminal covers several floors of cameras, computers, mp3 players, and accessories. Step out the back door and on the sidewalk next to the parking lot is a collection of guys selling pirated DVDs, everything from the latest Hollywood blockbuster to The African Queen to an Art Garfunkel concert.

Not far away, past a line of snack shacks and DVD hawkers, is Seonin Mall (선인상가), which specializes in computer parts. If you’re a hardcore computer geek, more interested in building your own machine than buying one, this is the place to come. A bit surprisingly, even to myself, it’s the one place in the market that I kind of actually like going to. There’s something fun about looking at all of the spare parts – motherboards, processors, uh…chips, and umm…uh, bytes and stuff? right? – and the salesmen have been friendly and helpful on the pair of occasions when I’ve needed something. This time I had brought along my laptop, which had lost a couple of screws from its underside, and when I asked the guy who had replaced them how much it cost he just waved me off.

Across the parking lot from Terminal is Najin Mall (나진상가), specializing in phones and video games, though it was quite quiet as I walked through, and it looked as if many businesses had moved out. Next to that, just to the west, stood the ET Land Main Building (전자랜드본관) and ET Land New Building (전자랜드신관). I passed a Discman and portable cassette player on my way in, but other than that the merchandise in there was the same as in the Main Building and as in the Terminal Electronics Mall and as in the I’Park Mall, and I started to ponder something I find myself pondering a lot in Seoul, namely, how do all of these businesses that sell basically the same thing in the same area all manage to stay in business? There was a smattering of shoppers in the ET New Building, but they didn’t seem sufficient to support it long-term, to say nothing of necessitating an expansion to a second structure.

The places I’ve mentioned here are only some of the main ones in the market, which, just when you begin to think there can’t be any more to it, reveals yet another building, another agglomeration of electricity-fed gadgetry. Continuing to walk around, there seemed to be no end. On Cheongpa-ro (청파로), a string of lighting shops where there was everything from chandeliers to multicolored signs programmable to flash either ‘삼겹살’ or ‘길비’ along with a cartoon of the livestock of your choice. Next to Seonin Mall, running block after block, the Electronics Flea Market (벼룩시장). Across from that, the old, grungy buildings of Electronics Town (전자타운). Further down the street, the long Wonhyo Electronics Arcade (원효전자상가). My hope that this visit would finally be the one to put me at ease, to at last chase away the tension I immediately feel as soon as I arrive at Yongsan was evaporating. I’d walked around for close to two hours, but still I wanted to throw up my hands. It’s too much. I can’t go on. I see Girls’ Generation’s smiling faces advertising Intel. I’ll go on.

I’Park Mall

E-sports Stadium (전자경기장)

Top floor of I’Park Mall

Yongsan Electronics Market (용산전자시장)

Take the elevated walkway from the station

Tags:abandoned buildings, Jungang Line, Line 1, market, shopping, sports, transportation, Yongsan-gu
Posted in Jungang Line, Line 1, Yongsan-gu | 1 Comment »

Noksapyeong Station (녹사평역) Line 6 – Station #629

November 13, 2011

If you’ve ever been to the top of N Seoul Tower after dusk you’ve no doubt noticed a conspicuous swath of the city to the south where the sparkling metropolis has gone almost completely dark. This is, of course, the Yongsan U.S. Army base, and though it’s not marked on most city maps it most certainly is there, sitting right in the middle of the city.

Tucked between Namsan and the Han River, the garrison occupies some prime real estate, some that has been occupied at various times by Chinese, Japanese, and now American armies. According to the most current deal, the U.S. army will relocate their main base to Pyeongtaek in 2017 (though the move’s date has already been pushed back numerous times), at which time the land will return to the citizens of Seoul and the 2.5 square kilometers that make contemporary cartographers so eager to change the subject will return to the mapped world.

Very few expats and even fewer Koreans have had a chance to go on the base, which requires being the guest of a soldier or military staff member. (Provided that you’re not a citizen of one of the countries barred entry. Pakistani? Cuban? Fuhgeddabouddit.) I’ve had the chance only once, when a reservist whom I’d taken Korean classes with invited me for lunch and a tour. Slip through the MP-patrolled rabbit hole and it’s as if you’ve landed in a small Midwestern town, albeit one where almost everyone is wearing the same outfit.

The base itself is surprisingly pretty. There are more trees than you’d see most anywhere else in Seoul, and the buildings are old and graceful. What’s uncanny are the details, and I don’t mean that most faces you see are white or black or Latino. (I mean, you’ve been to Itaewon. Not much new there.) What I’m talking about and what hung me in a goofy limbo for three hours, caught between nostalgia and befuddlement, are things like all base transactions taking place in U.S. dollars, the smell of 100% genuine Texas barbecue drifting through the air, the aging Randall Cunningham poster taped to the wall outside the gym, or the fact that all Koreans working on base speak good English. Probably nothing excited me as much, however, Wisconsin boy that I am, as the case of Leinenkugel’s beer available at one of the base grocery stores, nor did anything break my heart as quickly as when I realized that I didn’t have enough time to buy it and take it home before going to work.

If you don’t have base access, until the scheduled pullout the best you can do is to get off at Noksapyeong Station and take a wander about, which is increasingly worth it as the neighborhood develops and more Koreans discover its charms.

Noksapyeong Station sits smack dab in between the two halves of the garrison, on its eastern edge. Going out Exit 1 or 4 and walking west towards Samgakji Station takes you down Itaewon-ro (이태원로) as it bisects the base into northern and southern halves. The first sign you’ll see suggesting that this neighborhood is a bit more, let’s say, reclusive, than others are the tall brick and concrete walls topped with concertina wire that run along either side of the street. Despite this fact there’s almost no feeling of menace, as the sense of threat is softened by the ivy climbing up and over the walls, half hiding the razor wire, and by the tall leafy trees on either side that canopy the road. There are even some flowers along the sidewalk. Behind the walls you can make out simple roofs that almost look more academic than military, and if the concertina wire were removed you might guess that it was a leafy college campus and not a military outpost that was hidden behind the walls. Pay attention, though, and you’ll notice the single Korean police officers walking by at regular intervals or the ‘GO HOME’ spray-painted on the sidewalk (in a frankly unintimidating sea green), reminding you that the neighbors wear camo, not tweed.

Exit 3 puts you near the intersection at the west end of the Itaewon neighborhood, and if you continue straight, following Noksapyeong-daero (녹사평대로) south will take you past the giant blue glass ark of the Yongsan-gu Office (용산구청), the rather unpromising-looking location of Club Volume, and the Yongsan Baptist Church where you can get your clap on, all on the east side of the street. A couple of unique shopping opportunities present themselves around here as well. The small street running at an angle behind Noksapyeong-daero , Noksapyeong-daero-26-gil (녹사평대로26길) has several small antique shops, and Noksapyeong-daero-32-gil (녹사평대로32길), the alley just after Savile Row Tailor if you’re coming from Itaewon, is lined with a bunch of surprisingly fashionable women’s boutiques. Aside from English-speaking tailors, Itaewon is not particularly known for fashion, but the small shops here were full of interesting, chic pieces for what I’ll call the brunch demographic: women with confidence and cash, a bit too old for shopping in Edae, but only just.

While there might be some increasingly good shopping available, the thing that the Noksapyeong neighborhood is most known for, Seoul’s version of the Forbidden City aside, is the large contingent of foreigners living there. Spending a Saturday in the neighborhood I heard – in addition to Korean and English – French, Arabic, Portuguese, and an African language I was too ignorant to recognize, and there’s much in the area that caters to this population, making things available here that can be tough to find elsewhere: overseas call shops, Filipino grocers, and Western sports bars. A sure sign this part of town is a bit…different: you’ll see people jogging on the street.

If you’re jonesing for a good read and don’t want to trek to Kyobo or wait for Amazon to deliver, you might want to head to the Foreign Book Store (외국 Book), a used book shop that’s been buying, selling, and exchanging since 1973. The small place is filled to bursting (though, rather heroically, is reasonably well organized) with books lining floor to ceiling shelves and tucked in the recesses below steps. Unfocusing your eyes the brightly colored spines resemble rectangular pixels, like a game of Breakout on, like, level 2 billion. In the grid you’ll find everything from back issues of National Geographic to books in Russian, from the ‘Complete Slow Cooker Cookbook’ to the collected Shakespeare to ‘For Young Women Only: What You Need to Know About How Guys Think.’ You’ll also find a reasonable collection of Korean learning books. To get there, go out Exit 2, walk to the pedestrian underpass, cross, exit out the right side, and walk straight approximately one block. The bookstore is just before the Lexus dealership.

The area around Noksapyeong is often, pejoratively, referred to as a foreigner ghetto. If there’s any truth to this – and after spending the better part of two days hanging about the area I find there’s very little – it’s due simply to the fact that lots of expats have chosen to live near lots of other expats, as expats of every nationality tend to do all over the world, not because Koreans have chosen to pull out. In fact, large expat presence aside, the area ticks almost all the boxes for what you’d want for an ‘authentic Korean neighborhood.’ Despite the large foreigner presence, almost all of the convenience stores are small mom-and-pop shops, not chains, and the community is filled with simple restaurants, dry cleaners, and clothing repair shops. The landmark most frequently used when giving directions is the famed kimchi pots that line the wall at the entrance to Haebangchon. You think Canadians or Nigerians are buying those?

Noksapyeong’s Korean demographic mostly divides along two lines. One is the older working class people who’ve lived and worked here since long before foreigners started making the area their home in large numbers. The other is the young, cosmopolitan generation that’s grown up internationalized and appreciates both the opportunity that Noksapyeong offers to escape the often rigid social structures of Korean society and the chance to hit up its globalized food and drink scene.

This ranges from pan-Asian noodles at Bao to fish and chips at Sydney Seafood to Philly cheesesteaks at, uh, Phillies. Your best bet is simply to walk around and find something that strikes your fancy. If you need a pick-me-up to fuel the search, grab a cup of java to go at Standing Coffee, just outside the pedestrian underpass en route to Foreign Book Store. The name is close to literal, as it’s just an oversized stall where baristas dish up takeaway coffee. In warm weather the place bends the rules a bit, placing five small tables on the sidewalk out front. The place has been busy every single time I’ve passed, a fact that might be attributable to its exceptional people-watching opportunities, to its Coffee Prince-esque strategy of hiring only handsome guys in tight white shirts, or simply to its excellent coffee. As a matter of sociological observation, a casual accounting recorded an approximately ten to one ratio of Korean to expat customers, measured over the course of a tall iced Americano.

Because of the expat presence, Noksapyeong has long been a popular spot for nightlife, though much more restrained than its next door neighbor, Itaewon. And thanks to two relatively new places catering to the more sophisticated drinker it’s now a better spot than ever to spend a weekend night.

I will be the first to admit that, growing up in Wisconsin, I was spoiled when it came to beer. It’s not even the most miniscule stretch to claim, however, that the expat chorus will back me up when I say that Korean beer is, to put it generously, pitiable. I’m not sure if you can apply the adjective ‘scared’ to beer, but that’s exactly what Hite, Cass, and the rest is: afraid to actually be real beer with anything resembling hops or flavor and to trust its drinkers to learn what’s good. (And they would. You’ve seen how the country has made the transition from instant coffee to real espresso.) Korean beer is, simply, the worst I’ve ever had in my travels to more than 30 countries. Actually, sorry, that’s a bit unfair; I should clarify: South Korean beer is the worst I’ve ever had. I’ve had Taedong beer from the North and it’s better, and not just by a little bit.

There is hope, though, and I’m actually optimistic. A number of fine microbreweries have opened in Korea in the last several years, brewing their own beer, and it’s only a matter of time (and perhaps some liberalized trade legislation) until brewing catches on among Koreans the way coffee roasting and the barista profession has. And when that happens, goodnight nurse. Koreans’ single-minded perfectionism , which has resulted in some coffee as good as I’ve had anywhere, is going to produce some very fine brewskies.

Until then, there is Craftworks Taphouse & Bistro. Arguably the best beer in Korea is here, again, under the pedestrian underpass from Exit 2, and just a few steps from the left-hand exit. Craftworks brews six different types of beers – IPAs, pilsners, Hefeweizens – at their brewery in Gapyeong. Each beer is named after a different mountain on the Korean peninsula and each is excellent. If you can’t decide, and it’s hard, the pub offers a sampler paddle with a shot glass of each for 9,000 won. Sadly, it did not come on an actual paddle. Running behind and along one side of the pub is an outdoor patio with some small trees, perfect for warm weather drinking, and the music selection is almost as good as the beer: the Black Keys, Bon Iver, Arcade Fire, TV on the Radio.

Running the risk of being too much of a good thing, Noksapyeong is home to not only what’s possibly the best place for beer in town, but also what’s arguably one of the best for makkeolli. Go out Exit 2, walking towards the glowing arrow of N Seoul Tower on Namsan directly ahead of you. This time, however, continue past the pedestrian underpass a few meters to the aforementioned kimchi jars and follow them to the left. This is Sinheung-ro (신흥로), the street leading into the Haebangchon neighborhood. After a few minutes you’ll come to a small makkeolli bar on your left, just a couple doors before Phillies.

Here is the rather awkwardly named 다모토리 ㅎ [:h] (Damotori ㅎ), where you’ll find 25 different kinds of makkeolli that come from every one of Korea’s mainland provinces. The walls of the bar are painted a deep shamrock, offset by the dark wood trim and tables. Shelving displays small ceramic bottles, jars, and cups in earth-toned glazes, and the music is kept low so the focus remains the conversation and the drinks, which are served in heavy ceramic bottles. It’s classy enough to be the kind of place where you could take a date, and casual enough to be the kind of place where you could pass an entire night pouring cup after cup of the rice-based drink and swapping stories with old friends, which much of the clientele – mostly Koreans, along with a few in-the-know expats – seemed intent on doing.

Even better, a night like that is affordable. Prices are between 5 and 7,000 won per bottle, or you could get the sampler of cups of five different makkeollis of your choice for the criminal price of 2,000 won, which means you could sample every single makkeolli on offer for just 10,000 won. An assistant drinker and I got a sampler with one makkeolli from each province before ordering a bottle of 찹쌀 누룽지 (chapssal nurungji) from Gangwon Province, which carried the delicious burnt rice flavor of nurungji, and was completely unlike any makkeolli you’d buy in a Seoul grocery store. One of the biggest pleasures of drinking makkeolli is experiencing the enormously varied flavors the drink has from brand to brand and province to province, which is why Damotori is such a fun place to drink. This being a makkeolli jip, there’s of course jeon (전) on the menu, but I strongly recommend their galbi, served with barbecue sauce.

Lastly, if you don’t mind a bit of a walk, Noksapyeong Station offers access to one of the largest green spaces in Seoul: Namsan Park (남산공원). Again, cross the pedestrian underpass from Exit 2 and exit to the left. Take an immediate right onto Hoenamu-ro (회나무로), more often referred to as Kyeongnidan, along with the neighborhood around it. Hoof it all the way to the top, approximately one kilometer, gazing out over the rooftops spreading across the valley below Namsan, and you’ll arrive at Sowon-gil (소원길) in front of the Hyatt Hotel. Turn left there to find one of the many entrances to the park, this particular one surrounded by large beds of wildflowers in lavender, white, and yellow.

The park covers much of the mountain, and an extensive series of walking paths wind through it, with special attractions scattered throughout. One that’s quite near this entrance is the Lotus Pond (연못), just 150 meters in. This peaceful, reed-filled pond offers a great chance to escape from the city a bit and maybe to relax with a bottle of wine, like a group of expats at a nearby picnic table were doing. Just don’t pet the animals that live in the park, as a rather wishfully thinking sign depicting a person giving a rabbit a pat on the head warns. You’ll pay 100,000 for your Bambi moment, or, to put it in more relevant terms, 50 sampler sets at Damotori ㅎ.

Yongsan U.S. Army Garrison

Exit 1 or 4

Women’s clothing boutiques

Exit 3

Cross Noksapyeong-daero (녹사평대로), east on Noksapyeong-daero-32-gil (녹사평대로32길)

Foreign Book Store (외국 Book)

Exit 2

Straight on Noksapyeong-daero (녹사평대로) to pedestrian underpass, cross and exit to the right, straight approximately one block

02) 793-8249

Standing Coffee

Exit 2

Straight on Noksapyeong-daero (녹사평대로) to pedestrian underpass, cross and exit to the right

Craftworks Taphouse & Bistro

Exit 2

Straight on Noksapyeong-daero (녹사평대로) to pedestrian underpass, cross and exit to the left, straight on Noksapyeong-daero, the bar will be a few steps past Hoenamu-ro (회나무로) on your right.

다모토리 ㅎ [:h]

Exit 2

Straight on Noksapyeong-daero (녹사평대로), left on Sinheung-ro (신흥로) into Haebangchon, straight about 300 meters

070-8950-8362

Namsan Park (남산공원)

Exit 2

Straight on Noksapyeong-daero (녹사평대로) to pedestrian underpass, cross and exit to the left, right on Hoenamu-ro (회나무로), left on Sowon-gil (소원길)

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

Tags:Line 6, market, nightlife, park, restaurant, shopping, Yongsan-gu
Posted in Line 6, Yongsan-gu | 5 Comments »

Ichon Station (이촌역) Line 4 – Station #430, Jungang Line – Station #K111

November 18, 2010

Much like with what passes for Seoul’s Chinatown, you could be forgiven for drifting through the city’s ‘Little Tokyo’ without ever knowing you were there. Tucked between the station and the river, Ichon-dong (이촌동) doesn’t look distinctly different from any other middle-class neighborhood in Seoul, the sole thing giving you a hint of the presence of roughly 2,500 Japanese expats being the only slightly higher percentage of signs in hiragana. Most easily reachable from either Exit 3-1 or 4, the area is quite pleasant – rather quiet and peaceful and featuring thoughtful little touches like signs describing the various sidewalk shrubbery.

Of course the area is home to a number of Japanese restaurants, Sanuki and Dongmun Udong House being a couple of the more well-known, but there are obviously more options than just tempura and sushi. A small and eclectic grouping – ranging from Italian bistro to bento to bosintang – is grouped around a couple small alleys that can be reached by hanging an immediate right after coming out of Exit 3-1 and crossing the first street you come to. Nearby is the Dongbu Ichon Shopping Arcade (동부 이촌종합상가), a small covered alleyway lined with banchan sellers, ddeok shops, and small restaurants. More information on the area can also be found by visiting the Ichon Global Village Center.

The weather was lovely on the day we visited, the leaves just starting to turn, and if it’s the same when you happen to go a visit to the Ichon section of the Hangang Park (한강시민공원 이촌지구) would be in perfect order. In addition to the usual soccer, volleyball, and basketball facilities, this area also offers motor, pedal, and banana boat rental at the Turtle Ship Pier (거북선 나루터) and is the site of one of the docks for Seoul’s water taxi system.

There were plenty of families out at the park, including a few playing baseball together, but oddly each group we saw consisted of just mom and the kids. There wasn’t a dad to be seen. Parental units were out in full force at the banked inline skating rink a bit further east, where Angel Kindergarten’s sports day was being held. We walked in to the sounds of Europe’s ‘The Final Countdown’ blaring over the sound system as little guys lined up to await the start of the inline relay race, which blue team wound up winning by half a stride.

And remember, that’s half a kindergartener stride.

If you’ve been to Ichon Station before, it’s likely that it was to visit the area’s most famous attraction: the enormous, beautiful, and encyclopedic National Museum of Korea (국림중앙박물관), a short walk from Exit 2. The museum is divided into two wings: the main Exhibition Hall to the east and the smaller Special Exhibition Gallery to the west. It’s the largest museum in the country, and houses a huge array of artifacts – approximately 11,000 – ranging from paintings to sculptures to domestic articles covering Korean history from the prehistoric to the present. What’s more, entrance is free.

In addition to the museum proper, the grounds are also home to the Reflecting Pond (거울못) and Cheongjajeong Pavilion (청자정), the White Birch Walk (자작나무길), and the Fringe Flower Walk (이팝나무길), and they also host the occasional festival.

This particular weekend happened to be the 14^th Korean Religious Culture Festival (제 14회 대한민국 종교문화축제). Booths had been set up to provide information on Buddhism, Christianity, Korean Native Religions, and Cheondogyo (천도교). The Christianity booth was by far the most popular (Hey, they were the only one with free t-shirts.); the world’s other three major faiths – Islam, Judaism, and Hinduism – conspicuous by their absence. Tables nearby offered face painting and paper flower making. Gotta placate the kids somehow. Between the museum’s two wings (which, incidentally, frame nearby Namsan and N Seoul Tower quite perfectly) a stage had also been erected where, at the time we were there, singers and musicians performed music associated with traditional Korean spiritual practices.

The museum takes up the western edge of the much larger Yongsan Family Park (용산가족공원), a huge expanse that was converted from land that used to be a golf course for the U.S. 8^th Army. Sections of the park almost seem more like a nature preserve, as walking paths are relatively secluded and closely flanked by reeds, trees, brush, and stone walls. About half of the trees in the park had started to change colors when we visited, and the mottled foliage gave us an idea of both the park’s summer and autumn characteristics, but it would undoubtedly be lovely any time of year. Northerner that I am, I’d personally be keen to visit right after a fresh snowfall.

It may be completely artificial, but one of the park’s most scenic spots is Dragon Falls, where, from across a small pond, you can view a man-made waterfall pouring out of the rock before sliding over some artfully placed stones into the pool below. Plenty of photographers here.

The eastern end of the park consists of some open lawn areas where families, friends, and couples were picnicking, playing sports, and relaxing in the grass and on benches. It also features several large sculptures, including a curled hand made up of roof tiles and a gigantic park bench.

Also out on this day were a number of volunteers led by Mitzi Kaufman putting together a Pink Glove Dance in order to raise money for the Korean Breast Cancer Foundation and Susan G. Komen for the Cure.

Not just pink gloves but also pink shirts, pink pants, pink wigs, and pink shoes abounded, though nothing evoked their dedication to the cause quite like their ability to listen to Jay Sean’s ‘Down’ on repeat for three hours while rehearsing and filming the video. Speaking of which, you can see the finished product here. Additionally, if you’re interested in donating to or simply learning more about the Susan G. Komen organization, we invite you to visit their website.

Little Tokyo

Exit 3-1 and 4

Ichon Global Village Center

Exit 4

Opposite the Hangang Mansion Apartments

Hours: 9-6 M-F

Phone: 02-796-2018

Website: global.seoul.go.kr/ichon/

Hangang Park (한강시민공원 이촌지구)

Exit 4

National Museum of Korea (국림중앙박물관)

Exit 2

Yongsan Family Park (용산가족공원)

Exit 2

Tags:history, Jungang Line, Line 4, museum, park, restaurant, transportation, Yongsan-gu
Posted in Jungang Line, Line 4, Yongsan-gu | 1 Comment »

Seoul Sub→urban

Posts Tagged ‘Yongsan-gu’

Hangangjin Station (한강진역) Line 6 – Station #631

Yongsan Station (용산역) Line 1 – Station #135, Jungang Line – Station #K110

Noksapyeong Station (녹사평역) Line 6 – Station #629

Ichon Station (이촌역) Line 4 – Station #430, Jungang Line – Station #K111

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