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And when I first heard mention that we might be getting one, I tried my best not to start planning, so as to avoid the inevitable letdown that would come when the idea fell apart. Well, shut my mouth… the school came through. We found a substitute, and I was given the first shift, the first week off. Well, 4 weekdays and a weekend. My first thought: get out of the city. Head for the beach. Easy enough, as Korea is a very small peninsula. So, northeast it is. There is but one city northeast of Seoul on the coast: Sokcho pronounced Soakchoh. And it happens to be lovely. It gets you anywhere you want to go, out of the city and back, with the force, efficiency, and reliability required of the most important muscle. This was to be a weekend of beaches, coffee, seafood, and reading, and I knew I was going to finish my other book, Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer, pretty quickly. I also got some Kimbap for the ride, and then I was off. Getting out of Seoul is a chore, but once we did, I was reminded of how beautiful the Korean countryside can be. This is a small country. The longest bus ride you can take is about 5 hours. This ride was two and a half hours, in comfortable chairs, and we still got a break. About halfway through, we pulled off the highway and into a rest stop for bathrooms, food, and leg-stretching. A swing break for the not-army guys and gals. We arrived in Sokcho an hour later, and I did the only thing anyone can do when they arrive in a city on the beach after living exclusively beneath steel and concrete for almost 6 months: head to the beach immediately. I met a fellow American traveler in the bus station, and we made for the beach together. We were immediately chatted up by a group of Korean high school boys; her because she was young, pretty, and foreign, and me because I was standing next to her. They knew the difference between beautiful and handsome, an odd rarity here. One of the boys was from Moran of Moran Shijjang and was surprised and impressed to find that I lived near there and frequented the market. He said I was handsome. After a quick feet-in-the-water, the American and I went our separate ways: me to a crab restaurant because I was starving and love crab, and her to not a crab restaurant because she was vegan. Never get restaurant recommendations from the tourist information booth a place I only went because she needed help finding her hostel. I ended up getting crab tang which is crab legs in a hot, spicy soup. If I wanted to taste spice and not crab, I would have stayed in Seoul. I left, full, with a renewed determination to find fresh, unaltered, seafood. Mistake 1 was followed immediately by mistake 2: a 30 minute bus ride to a smaller, less trafficked beach outside the city. I thought I might want to stay at one of the pensions there as to be completely removed from the city. I saw about four people on the beach, 20 ugly pensions lining a very small strip of sand, and like two restaurants. A ten minute walk and I was back on the bus to where I first arrived. That beach would do just fine, and there would be no more mistakes. Always look for the catch. Believe it or not there are places in the world where people grow up trusting each other. I brushed past them all walking to and from the beach, looking for places to stay. So I asked how much. Not a bad rate, as it turns out. But I had to see the room first. My ajjuma took me past the empty reception desk, up to the 8th floor, and showed me the room. Two nights, please. She told me to pay her. We went down to the desk. Still no one there. So I paid her, she put the money in her pocket, and she gave me the key. End of transaction. Not even close. I felt like an asshole, especially after watching other Korean tourists have no qualms with the operation. Anyway, asshole-ery aside, I made for the beach again. Yep, this is vacation. So, I spent a good while walking around, looking at signs and pictures, trying to figure out what to call cooked fish and which restaurants made it. With the help of google, the Korean keyboard on my phone, and many, many signs, I found it: Saengseongui sang-son-goo-ey. And with the help of being at the beach, I found a restaurant. Five minutes later I was literally staring down two cooked fish well, one anyway , candied shrimp, delicious Kimchi figuratively — Kimchi has no eyes , and other banchan also no eyes. This was moist, flavorful without seasoning, falling off the bone, fish. Back to the beach after all, it was too late for coffee. More sitting, less thinking, more picture taking. Check out my photoblog for the rest there are even better ones there. The most important part of a restful vacation, the actual sleep, I decided to forego in the hopes of catching the sunrise. The clouds had other plans for me. The good news is that I got to watch some army guys patrolling the beach at am. I think there is a military base or training grounds somewhere near here. Army pa-stroll along the beach get it? So, instead of the sunrise, I just saw it get lighter. I listened to the waves and watched the fishermen set out for the days catch. And then there was coffee. And oranges. And muffins. And reading. And then it was lunchtime. Time for some real fresh seafood. Down the street from the coffee shop was this place. This small seafood market was right on the harbor. Fresh seafood, just offloaded from the boats, is sold here. Crab was too expensive here, so I settled on prawns. Good decision. My ajjuma wanted to serve them raw, but I have this thing about raw fish in Korea which you may or may not know about. I asked for them cooked and she obliged. Just boiled lightly, simply. Aside from the clouds, it was a pretty nice day out, so I decided to take a walk around the harbor. In Sokcho, the harbor comes inland a good ways. On a map, it looks like a square carved into the coast, with the city surrounding it on three sides. I was staying on the bottom side of the square, and after walking a bit, decided it was too big to walk all the way around on what was supposed to be a relaxing day so I hopped on a bus. On the other side of the harbor, the top of the square, I found what some, including myself, might consider heaven. And this is but one of the five or more crab restaurants, along with many other restaurants specializing in various other seafoods, on this tiny street adjacent to the harbor. At the end of the street were two observatories: one on a rock in the sea, and one up a cliff. I chose the cliff, for the view of course. That would be dinner. First, I went back to the giant crab to see how their prices compared. No thanks. I sat at picnic table table, under the red umbrella, and watched the harbor as I waited. I also watched my ajjuma in the kitchen, which consisted of only a fridge, a burner, and a pressure cooker. This was going to be good. When it was done, she brought out the crab on a tray and proceeded to cut it for me. She cut the claws off first, then the legs, and then she cut the legs in half at the joint. She stuck the smaller, thinner end which has no meat through the thicker half, using it to push the meat out. It was unbelievable, from the first bite to the last. Crab, nothing else. Not my crab, unfortunately. She only did this for me after she saw me taking pictures of the one I devoured. When I do eat crab which is extremely rare… I can count the number of times on one hand I never eat the brains. But I was the only customer, and my ajjuma, who had just cooked and cut the thing for me, was standing over me as I ate, watching me savor every bite. Best crab experience ever. After dinner I went back to the coffee shop from before and finished my book. Not exactly the light, relaxing read I was going for, but it was worthy of a finish. I did, however, have a nice conversation with the owner of the coffee shop, and when I left, he sent me off with a free sandwich. Lovely guy. The beach at night. Couples, friends, and groups head down to the beach after dark to snuggle, laugh, and set off fireworks. In my old age of 25 this is what I have become. This table consists almost entirely of things I used to hate. No, soda. Ok, I like sugar. They have sugar. Now this is me. I drink coffee every day, and I love it. Fruit is what my now health-conscious mind craves. Reading means relaxation, not studying. And I still love muffins. Not a bad way to end a beach vacation. A few hours later I was on the bus, being pumped back to the heart of Seoul, the heart of Korea. My longing to leave, spent, dumped on the shores of Sokcho. Seoul breathes, and I return to catch my share, to be re-filled until I feel the need to leave again. But really, it just feels good to be home. More photos from Sokcho! Woow this inspires me a lot. I wanna visit those places too when i go to korea hopefully this april! Thanks for this by the way! Main menu Skip to content. Home About Me Photography. Seoul Express Bus Terminal. The bus to Sokcho. Korean Countryside. More country. Korean Rest Stop. A smoke break for the army guys. Back on the bus. Sokcho Beach. My Room. My View. The Restaurant. Sokcho Beach, Night. Sokcho Fisherman. Seafood Market. The Take. And Eaten. No explanation necessary. The Harbor. The Other Observatory. Another Fish Market. The Meal. No More Mr. Fireworks on the Beach. My Ideal Morning. Share this: Twitter Facebook. Like Loading Leave a comment Cancel reply. Six Months Down ». Comment Reblog Subscribe Subscribed. Korea: Take Two. Sign me up. Already have a WordPress. Log in now. Loading Comments Email Required Name Required Website. Design a site like this with WordPress.
The shops were a tiny bit dusty, but they also had water, soda, coffee, and snacks to help you on long hikes. You can buy it at the entrance of the park. I am.
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