Yongpyong buying blow

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Yongpyong buying blow

After five days skiing in South Korea - the first five days skiing in my life - my brother and I attempted a 5. Not only was it 5. We had already survived being potentially nuked a few days earlier, and here we were, atop a snowy precipice, facing death once more. So how did we get to this potentially disastrous crossroad in our lives? What had placed us in a position to rashly take such a chance? A couple of months ago, I would never have envisaged myself visiting South Korea, let alone skiing it. In fact, I could easily have gone my whole life without ever having skied and I wouldn't have noticed. As anyone living in Perth knows, snow skiing is not an option. Nothing much in the way of mountains, and no snow in any case. We don't even know real cold. We like to think we do, complaining about those horrible, shivery, one degree winter mornings we put up with for about six days a year. When I talk about Perth's winter extreme, my Canadian girlfriend laughs at me. Apparently, minus 40C is much colder. I can't even imagine. I mention my girlfriend because she is the reason I ended up going to South Korea. Court is her name, and she still lives in Canada. I live in Australia. It's the equivalent of the longest distance relationship that has ever been. I'm fighting the good fight, trying to convince her to come out to Australia to live with me. She's on the fence with this decision, with as many good reasons to stay in Canada as to come here. So I decided to try and tip the scales a bit and win some overseas holidays as an extra factor in the 'plus' column for moving here. All in the name of winning the girl. Apologies to all the avid skiers out there who entered the same South Korea competition dreaming of the ultimate test of skiing skill. It was won by a lovesick novice. Furthermore, it didn't even work. The trip had to be taken so soon after I won it that Court felt she couldn't seriously consider it. We needed to fly out within about six weeks, and even though I highlighted the whole 'it's meant to be' angle, she didn't blindly take the plunge. My next option was to take my older brother, Graeme, with me instead. He's always up for an adventure, and was ecstatic to be going. In the weeks leading up to the trip, another potential spanner fell into the works when Kim Jong Il inconveniently died, throwing the whole region into turmoil. Was Yongpyong All Seasons Resort within shelling range of the border? Probably within a day's reach of the world's largest active military as well, if it chose to advance. And since all I knew about North Korea was that they are the evil twin of our buddies in the south, that their military are so dedicated that they extend onto their tippy toes when they march, and that they are emotionally unstable enough to cry for their dead leader in a fashion that looked like their entire families had just been crushed under a falling building, I had cause to wonder a little as to whether we should be taking this trip after all. But in a few days the media calmed down, the North Koreans got over it, the new guy in charge's expression remained stable, and the competition people said, 'No, you can't do it next year instead. Arriving at the airport and taking the subway into town you notice two things instantly. I guess I expected to see more western faces than I did - not sure why. Perth is a very multicultural city. Everywhere you look there is a different looking face, a different culture, a different story. I guess multiculturalism is not the norm, and my brother and I were quite a novelty on the train in Seoul. Little kids would try out the single word of English they knew, and giggle when we responded. In a sea of shiny black hair, we were something to look at. We enjoyed the humble stardom though - it wasn't intimidating at all. The Koreans were polite and respectful. Although, there was one middle-aged gentleman on the train who lifted his right buttock off the bench and let out a long, perfectly audible gaseous release, which forced me to wonder whether this was socially acceptable in Korea. Has it made the leap from fine-in-front-of-the-fellas to fine-under-all-circumstances? A part of me may always wonder The second thing you notice instantly is that there is no obesity. Everyone there is in the healthy weight range. Seoul is a huge city, Yongpyong is a popular resort, and in the week I was in Korea I saw three people who were marginally overweight. Three only. Take a look around you wherever you are in Australia, and you'll see three in a minute. If you're walking in an Australian capital city, you'll see three if your eyes open for half a second. In Korea, you remember seeing them because they are so out of the ordinary. We can learn from the Koreans here. It's portion size, mainly. They don't keep stuffing it down. And they don't have a certain popular multi-national fast-food chain on every corner. That, plus their chips and cakes aren't as yummy as ours. That's a matter of taste, I know, but I'm sure if there were a way to test it empirically, I'd be proven right. Whatever the reason, if you're struggling with weight and don't know what to do about it, treat yourself to a couple weeks of observation in South Korea and learn a thing or two. Graeme and I had opted to stay the first night in Seoul, and after checking in at our hotel, we headed off to find ourselves a nice beer and some dinner. This led me to discover the only thing that really irked me about South Korea. They are still allowed to smoke inside, and you'd better believe they do. Sure, it probably would have been paradise for a smoker, no longer being told what they can and can't do by the 'nanny state' that forces them grumbling out the door in Australia. But for a non-smoker like me, used to both the moral high-ground and clean breathing in pubs, it sucked to be part of the demographic not truly catered for. You just had to breathe it in, or eat outside. At minus 5C. So we breathed it in, and all the way back to the hotel afterwards I was expelling smoke from my lungs like moist breath on a cold night. The following day, Graeme and I caught the bus to Yongpyong Resort. The drive was about two and a half hours long, so we got a good look at the scenery as the city slowly diminished and the hills started to roll, one into the next. Seoul is a huge city. I don't know the stats, but I'm sure it would easily dwarf any Australian capital in both size and population. There are so many high-rise apartment buildings that they each have a great big identifying number on the side. They were pumped out in cookie-cutter style during construction and all look identical in their individual precincts. Eventually, after all of the buildings had vanished and solid snow replaced visible ground, we arrived at the mountain that will host the downhill events of the Winter Olympics, full of uncertainty, excitement, and wondering about the viability of Yongpyong as a military target. Our hotel room was of ample size and had a window through which we could see half the ski-fields, but the best part of the room was the fancy electronic toilet. The seat had some kind of shock-absorption system which cushioned you on the down-sit, and the seat itself was automatically warmed. There was a button for a surprisingly accurate water-squirt, a button for a blow-dry, and buttons to control the temperature of each. There were directional buttons to control precisely where the water squirted, but I found it to be already set to bullseye. There was even a button which vacuumed the air out of the bowl in order to prevent any fragrance from lingering in the room. There was also toilet paper there, which I opted to make use of prior to testing the waterworks. A sharp spray of water can certainly push small particles around, but who can guarantee they'll go where the toilet intends them to? I'm sure there must have been people in the past who trusted that spray, only to regret it later in the day. It was mid-afternoon, and since our ski-passes didn't kick in until the following day, we got dressed up all nice and warm and went for our first crunch around in the snow. I picked up a Spiderman ski hat for my six-year-old son, and wisely wore it in most of my photos. It's not mine, so I'm not immature. I was filling it full of experiences so it would be more valuable for my boy, a notion that makes me particularly mature indeed. So, feeling warm and mature, I set off with my brother up the mountain in the gondola - an enclosed ski-lift. We thought it was going to be a fairly brief trip to the top of the only peak we could see, but this turned out to be far from the case. As we passed over this peak, it became apparent that there was a further peak beyond, but one which we were unable to see because it ascended into the clouds. After 20 or so minutes, we stepped off atop Dragon Peak - a name that will become very familar to the world's top skiers in , as that is where the Olympic downhill runs will start. There was also a bit of a nature trail to follow, so Graeme and I wandered off into the unknown. The trees all looked dead - frozen in their tracks and stripped of foliage. Ice covered some entirely. Others had no ice on the windward side and an inch of ice on the leeward side of every twig. With snow everywhere else, it all looked spectacular. After walking for a few hundred metres, we stopped to listen. It was easy to understand the phrase 'the silence is deafening' at that moment. When the crunching of snow underfoot had stopped, we couldn't hear a single thing. The quiet filled our ears. True silence is golden, and we had it for a few precious moments before the interjecting sounds of some enthusiastic Korean adventurers corrupted the peaceful mist. We pushed on, and though we never quite managed to recreate that moment again, we felt very lucky to have had it at all. I'm sure the gentleman on the train would have made great use of the opportunity that the perfect quiet presented. We retraced our footsteps and boarded the gondola for our return trip, watching experienced skiers descend via the long, winding 5. At this point we didn't consider that we'd ever attempt it, as we'd never even pulled on skis and had no reason to think we'd ever leave the relative safety of the beginners' slope. But horizons do broaden, my friends. For better or for worse, peoples' definitions of 'possible' morph and change like a snowy winter landscape. Needless to say, we took up drinking in our room. But while we were in the bar, it became apparent that beer snacks, in this case provided free with the beer, are sweet in Korea, not savoury. We got a little bowl of crunchy green things that looked like string beans. A bowl of sultanas as well. Also sweet. We noticed that buying chips was no guarantee of a salt fix either. I bought a pack that claimed to be 'hot', but it should have read, 'sweet, and kidding about the hot'. I wondered out loud how the added sugar in the snacks could allow the nation to remain relatively thin as they were. Graeme thought that maybe less salt in the diet had something to do with it. My theory that they were just not as yummy as Australian chips was born. There was quite a good one we found though - a variation of nacho flavoured corn chips, which had a pretty good cartoon version of my girlfriend on the pack this could have made me biased though. The skiing began the following day. Or night, I should say. The slopes were all floodlit at nightfall and stayed in operation until about 1am. We figured there were fewer people to potentially crash into after dark. We collected some boots, poles and skis, applied them to our bodies as instructed and wobbled off in the direction of a flat section of snow. After one or two minor mishaps, some advice from some English-speakers and some mild success in balanced forward motion, we headed toward the ski-lift up the hill which had the smallest gradient - the beginners' slope. We knew from TV that we had two main options for the configuration of our skis in order to control speed - 'pizza' and 'fries'. Pizza, or pointing your skis inward at the front in a wedge shape, supposedly makes you go slower. Fries, or keeping your skis parallel, makes you fall over. I mean, go faster. Briefly go faster, before you fall over. We discovered these were all true principles to a point, and we got better at them as the evening progressed. What strikes you instantly - before the ground does, that is - is that skiing doesn't wait until you're ready. When you're a beginner on a slope wearing skis, skiing just happens. But, after a few out-of-control, just-gotta-hold-it-together, scary moments, we started to get the hang of it a bit. The more times we went down the slope, the better at balancing we got. After day one we had ticked balance off our 'must learn' list. Only steering and stopping remained. By the end of day two we had balance and steering, with some pretty good slowing down. Only emergency stopping remained a hurdle, but importantly, our confidence had taken off. Graeme said that he thought we should attempt the long Dragon Peak run, which we came to call 'K1' after some other really big, dangerous mountain somewhere, before we concluded our holiday. I agreed. It was day two and we were really enjoying it, with three more full days of skiing to come. We entered training mode, focused on preparing for what we knew would be a tough test. Day three saw another step in our evolution. We could stop with greater reliability, and we started doing that shooshing from side to side motion that one associates with competent skiers. We proved that incompetent skiers can do it as well. On day four we moved on to one of the intermediate slopes. This one was much faster, and suddenly we were falling over again. It wasn't what we wanted one day out from our big challenge, but knowing that our brains and bodies had adjusted so well in the previous days, we just stuck to it. After a dozen or so runs, we had become confident in our ability to retain relative control on an intermediate slope. Hoping that this would be as tough as it would get on the intermediate-advanced graded K1 run, we retired for the night. The big day had arrived and out we went again. The plan was to firstly gain confidence on the beginner slope, move to an intermediate slope, gain confidence, then hit the gondola to Dragon Peak. We started well, as by this time the beginners' slope held no demons for us and we found it great fun. We chose a different intermediate slope after that, which turned out to be an unfortunate mistake - one that ripped our confidence away. In short, it was too steep for us. We fell a lot, we simply couldn't stop, we felt fear, and we questioned the wisdom in tackling K1 later that day. But we decided to do it again, with the only goal to be controlling our speed. We went back to the top and pizzaed like we'd never pizzaed before. We pizzaed feverishly, going down simply as slowly as we could and trying to maintain our balance until the slope levelled out. Our pizzaing muscles burned, but we did it without falling, and that was enough for us. On to Dragon Peak. On to K1. Going up in the gondola was an extreme test on our resolve. Knowing that we were about to do this run made us look more critically at the winding slopes we were about to ski, which was essentially just a mountain road covered in two feet of compacted snow. It was steeper in many places than we had experienced before, and it was clear that we were well out of our depth. For a minute I seriously questioned whether I should have skis under my feet anywhere near that mountain. It was one of life's true crossroads. I had said to myself a few minutes before that there was nothing that was going to stop me from doing this. Decision made. But as we got up to the steepest part of the ascent, I started to seriously wonder whether that decision was made with all the facts, and whether it was still in my interests to follow it through. Would I do it and succeed? Would I do it and fly home minus the use of my limbs? Would I pull out and forever regret missing the chance to prove a little something to myself? I looked over at my brother. We had both been training for this moment for the last three days. His opinion mattered. He said, 'There's no shame in pulling out here - none at all. You don't have to do it, bro. Nobody need ever know you even considered it, and nobody expects it. Some of those slopes look pretty impossible, but I reckon if a man doesn't push beyond the limits of what he knows he can do, he'll never know what is possible. I'm skiing down this hill. It was all I needed to hear. We disembarked at the top and donned our skis. As we pushed toward the top of the slope I prayed under my breath to everyone who would listen. And then we were off, going the full pizza, trying for nothing more than to control speed. I crashed three times in the first 50m, losing a ski at one point and slightly straining one of my pizza muscles on my right outer thigh. Still with over five and a half kilometres to go, and still within a steep trudge of the gondola, I could have given it away right there. But on went the ski, and on went my brother and I. The bends had some fairly level areas, so we were able to slow down and assess the best plan of attack for each of the early steep slopes. We decided to accept that there would be plenty of falls but that as long as we controlled them we could manage this thing. We had effectively already experienced the worst it had to offer. We'll get snowy and we'll get sore, but we'll get through. Just be careful and we'll be fine, we thought. I had some success after one fall, skiing on both feet and my bum at the same time for the rest of that particular slope - not that I had much choice in the matter, mind you. Then all of a sudden we found ourselves having a great time! The tricky stuff was behind us, and what we were then cruising on were slopes that meandered gracefully down the mountain, gently bending, and we even found ourselves adopting the fries stance on occasion, revelling in the speed. The rest of the run was exhilarating. There were more steep slopes, but nothing we couldn't control ourselves down. And it was all over so quickly! The last slope was a long straight, possibly a kilometre in length, and had a nice gradient - probably at the top end of what we could reasonably hope to maintain control on. This flattened out a little more towards the end, allowing me to relax enough to stand tall and raise my fists in triumph. It was an ecstatic moment. I had officially pushed my limits, tested my courage, and I was intact. Sweet intactness, how I had taken thee for granted! Graeme had made it through the last straight too, and after a quick brotherly hug of triumph, we set off for lunch and to discuss how cool we were. Since it was our last day skiing, we returned to the beginners' slope where we could really have some fun, while minimising our chances of a final-day accident. It was snowing quite heavily though, and the snow gets into the eyes with incredible consistency. Graeme's knee was sore and so was my thigh. We had already achieved what we had decided was our ultimate challenge. The time had arrived to cash in our chips while we were well and truly ahead. So, relatively uninjured, after a few farewell runs down the hill, we returned the skis and retired to our room for the drinking of some beer and the execution of a sharp and accurate high five in celebration of a holiday well spent and well survived. Now it's back to trying to convince Court to come to Australia. So it's more competitions for me, until such time as someone, somewhere, gives me a job writing on the internet, so I can work from anywhere in the world. If you can swing this, friendly reader, please email me! The power of true love compels you. Close navigation menu Subscribe Log In. Subscriber Exclusive. Today's Paper. West Rewards. Vanishing Cousins. Up Late. The West Live. Court in the Act. World News News Travel Oceania. Thu, 16 February PM.

Swansong at Yongpyong

Yongpyong buying blow

Apr Yongpyong is located in Pyeongchang, Gangwon-do, a rural county that encompasses part of the Taebaek Mountains a ridge that runs that entire length of the Korean peninsula. Yongpyong is one of several ski resorts in the region, and one of four resorts that were selected to host the alpine events at the PyeongChang Winter Olympics. Yongpyong is one of several ski resorts in Pyeongchang, and one of four resorts that were selected to host the alpine events at the Winter Olympics. Image: Tan Cheng Joo. Yongpyong is serviced by 15 cable lifts totalling Rainbow Gondola is open to tourists all-year-round, and provides an excellent platform from which to soak up the views of Balwangsan and surrounding mountains. Beginners are well catered for, with an abundance of green and blue-level runs to check off. Here, those in want of the Olympic experience can retrace the slalom and giant slalom courses used at the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics. The park offers a variety of kickers, boxes and rails. As a winter destination, Yongpyong benefits from both its northerly latitude and high elevation. Importantly, these temperatures allow for a longer ski season than anywhere else in the country. The season generally kicks off in mid-November and runs through till early April. Yongpyong sits at a base elevation of m and climbs to a respectable m m of vertical. It towers over its neighbouring resorts, Alpensia m , Phoenix Park m and Jeongseon m. As a result, Yongpyong benefits from greater natural conditions than perhaps any other resort in South Korea, receiving an average of cm of snowfall per year. All South Korean resorts, Yongpyong included, are reliant on artificial snow-making systems that provide a consistent base throughout the ski season. Conditions at Yongpyong will especially suit beginners and intermediates who enjoy the consistency of a pisted slope. Note: Advanced skiers and powder hounds may need to look further east to the ski resorts of Japan, where the onslaught of winter can bring up to 20 m of fresh powder per season. Thanks in part to the Olympics, Yongpyong is well set up to handle guests. The hotel is equipped with both sauna and public bath facilities, located on the lobby floor. Yongpyong Resort also operates its own youth hostel , designed to accommodate large groups, families and budget travellers. The hostel offers dormitories and traditional ondol underfloor-heated rooms with shared kitchen and bathroom facilities. These rooms feature wooden floors and traditional Korean-style futon mattresses — often very thin. Blocks of apartment-style condominums are dotted around town, offering a mix of Korean and Western-style lodging. These condos tend to offer a more spacious living area, equipped with kitchen, dining and entertainment facilities. These can be booked out via any number of the major booking websites including booking. Alternatively, skiers may opt to stay in Seoul and commute to the slopes. There are multiple transport links between Seoul and Yongpyong, described below. A variety of shops, restaurants and services are found in Dragon Plaza , a 3-storey complex at the base of the resort. This is where the bulk of skiers go to organise rental, equipment and lockers. One of two ticket offices is found just outside the plaza. Yongpyong sells gift cards which can be used throughout the resort to pay for lift passes, food, rental and even accommodation. Skiers can purchase a gift card from one of two ticket offices or from the front desk of the Dragon Valley Hotel. Both private and group classes are available, with lessons are offered in 2 or 4-hour blocks. The shop is stocked with a variety brands and styles to suit all abilities and tastes. Premium models are available at extra cost. For anyone in search of new gear, several retailers exist within the same building. Options for food are plentiful within resort grounds. Both Dragon Plaza and Tower Plaza house a variety of restaurants, cafes, fast food chains, and coffee shops. The specialty on offer here is marinated beef, cooked at the table, as is customary in Korea. Beer and soju are also available. Other options include bowling and billiards, also found in Tower Plaza on the basement floor. Alternatively, why not just continue skiing? Yongpyong offers evening-night skiing from pm to am. The slopes at this hour are in surprisingly good condition thanks to the groomers that do a quick tidy-up at the close of the afternoon session. Yongpyong is a self-contained resort. All life and activity exists within resort grounds. There are numerous restaurants and cafes in which to grab a decent meal, but the resort lacks the atmosphere of a true ski town. The baths are gender-segregated, requiring guests to bathe without swimwear. Families can reconvene in the mixed-gender ondol rooms. The park is also equipped with golfing facilities and a sauna zone. Beware that not all trains on this line stop at Jinbu. A regular season timetable is not yet available; however, KTX tickets can be purchased up to one month in advance here. From Jinbu Station, skiers will need to take an hour-long shuttle bus to Yongpyong Resort. Buses run six times per day, every other hour from am to pm. Private shuttle buses offer a hassle-free direct transfer from Seoul various locations or Incheon Airport Terminal 1 to Yongpyong Resort. Buses travel via the Yeongdong Expressway, with transit time subject to traffic conditions. From the airport, expect a commute time of approximately 3 hours. These shuttles can be booked via the Tour to Korea website. Ski rental at Yongpyong is excellent value. Half-day discounts, however, are minimal. Gift cards purchased from the resort will enable access to heavy discounts on tickets, rental, gear and even accommodation. Tags Korea Gangwon Comments November 23, Are you able to send me information about getting from the airport to YongPyong ski resort. We are arriving Friday 27 th February at 7am and would like to transfer straight to the resort. Thanking you. We suggest you book transportation through our partners at ExKo Tour. They have a shuttle from Incheon and Gimbo airports to YongPyong — and the departure times look like they would suit you. You will need to book at least three days in advance. You can check their schedule and make the booking here:. I read where you cannot buy a multi day lift pass or hire skis for multi days, is this true. Do these need to be purchased every day. We will be there for five days mid February and did not want to take our skis for such a short time we will take our own boots. It would be time consuming and an inconvenience not to hire for multi days. Hi, is the winter season opening and closing dates for Yongpyong Ski Resort is already available? I m planning for a family ski trip around March but wondering if the ski resort is still operational as I have heard that most ski resorts will end its season operation during early March. Sign me up for the newsletter! Unsubscribe any time. The Latest. Japanese ski resort offers free lift passes to Exclusive: the ambitious plan to develop a ski Flexibility with a side of luxury: is this the Ski Resorts Korea. Share Yongpyong. A complete guide to Korea's biggest, oldest and most popular ski resort. Image: english. YongPyong Official Website. Tags Korea Gangwon. November 23, Reply. December 31, Reply. January 4, Reply. They may be able to help you out. November 5, Reply. January 8, Reply. Where is the direct link I can book my accommodation for this ski resort? Many thanks! Submit a Comment. 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Yongpyong buying blow