Beppu, Japan

Here are some photos of the "mini-break" we took to Beppu while my mother was visiting. Beppu is an Onsen town only 1 hour and 10 minutes flight from Incheon. Built over hot springs, the town steams and spurts around you as you tour the bath houses while stopping periodically to soak your feet or steam some eggs. We stayed at a nice Minshuku (first photo) where they fed us ample breakfasts and dinners and let us wander around in nemaki and bathe in their large "family baths." Mostly the thing is to do in Beppu is bathe. The children love Japanese-style baths - wandering around naked and plunging into giant warm pools equipped with jets or waterfalls or scenic views is certainly their idea of a good time. I can only bathe twice a day at most, however, so we had to find some other activities. We went on the "Hell tour:" 8 jigoku, or themed hot springs (for viewing rather then bathing). We observed milky steam lakes, red mud baths, boiling pits of grey clay, geysers and assorted animals kept captive in these Hells to amuse the visitors (8 photos below - one for each Hell). We also visited "monkey mountain" where free-range monkeys swarmed an old mountain temple. The children walked among the animals, while dutiful monkey-attendants followed behind with brooms and dustpans to keep the mountain waste-free (second-last photo). Other than that, we strolled, observed steam, watched cats, ate noodles, soaked feet, and tried to spot bath-tourists walking the streets in robes and clutching soap and towels.

Things NOT to do with kids

No, nothing salacious, it's just that there are many things on the tourist trail here in Seoul that simply do not work when encumbered by the under fives. Sometimes you would never expect it. Above, in the "Story of King Sejong Exhibition Hall," after you have written your name in Hangeul, been told the movie is only for those over 8, and admired the turtle boat, you come across a "naval weapon firing experience" where you may choose your weapon and blow the Japanese to smithereens. These weapon-firing experiences are very popular here. The high-tech one at the war memorial museum was particularly troubling (as was the giant tank that fired smoke, light and sound at you if you inserted coins - the boy-child was terrified). There are actual firing ranges here in Seoul, but they have not yet tempted me, even on nanny-days.

What do tempt me are the markets, and they are so child-unfriendly. Crowded and narrow full of giant carts and speeding delivery motorbikes, there is no room for strollers and no space at child-eye level. On nanny-day, however, I can explore. Above, Mom and I found the food alley of Gwangjang market. Sensational no?

Buddhists, while not child unfriendly, do tend to organize events that are not exactly child-focused. Templestays I have always rejected on this basis, but for some reason when invited to a "family dinner" at Bongeunsa, and having confirmed that children were indeed allowed, I relented. Baru Gongyang: traditional temple dining to be done in quiet contemplation (no sound of conversation, dishes, and eating to disturb community harmony) is not, I repeat NOT for children They can not sit cross-legged before their own table of strange food and follow the precise method of pouring, serving, eating, and cleaning up that the spirit of Baru Gongyang requires. For those of you without accompanying minors, however, please chant and reflect and experience, and find calm peace and tranquility. My virtues are so little (literally - they are both under 5) that I am hardly worthy to receive it. At least, as Augustine spake before me, not yet.

This is Dragon Hill Spa, my first jimjilbang (Korean bathhouse/sauna) experience. There were baths (many types, many temperatures), a strange older woman in black underwear who scrubbed me (for a fee) with a very rough cloth very thoroughly, and (unisex) saunas and ondol-heated sleeping rooms of a wide array of styles: the salt room, the snow room, the jade temple room, the ochre pyramid room, the woodland breezes room, the charcol burning witch-oven room, the inside of a giant pine in the midst of a raging forest-fire room, the I accidentally stepped into a pottery kiln that is being fired room, the there has just been a nuclear disaster and I am hoping this burlap sack will protect me from the radioactive fallout room etc. Apparently intense levels of heat are comforting to some. In the tree-during-forest-fire room, there was even a gentleman exercising while we all burned. I enjoyed, particularly, salt, snow, breezes, and cool jade - but it was all good. I was sorely tempted by the many warm scented sleeping rooms, since neither of my young do any sleeping in the rooms I currently possess, so I will go back, one nanny-day and nap. Koreans suggest that jimjilbangs are good family spots, but since mine are too young for the PC Bangs, Sports halls, cinemas and firing ranges on site, I think I will keep these warm relaxing spaces to myself for a little longer.

Young Seoul

"Strange and huge form of an alien" though I am, my "curiosity and challenging spirit" still motivates me to make the occasional "verbal intervention." So today I would like to talk to you, briefly, about some Kid-Friendly activities here in Seoul. Above and below, we have Chonggyecheon Stream; 6 km of restored waterway running through downtown. Though difficult to stroller and often more crowded than the streets above, it is (when the sun beats less strongly), a welcome retreat from traffic and shopfronts. In addition, it often showcases cultural events. Above: an October Art display, and below: a November lantern display. (Some of the lanterns shown below are actually from a simultaneous lantern display at Bongeunsa temple) The children like the stream, they can play in the water in the warmer months, and collect weeds and autumnal grasses in the Fall. They did not, however, particularly like the lantern festival as it was very crowded and took place past their bedtime. Still, despite costing $280 million USD and providing zero environmental gains, I'm all for the stream. Where else could I see a hanji-paper crucified Christ lighting up the night sky beside guardian deities like Dongjin Bosal and the Statue of Liberty.

Generally the children do not enjoy the requisite tourist visit to Bukchon Hanok Village. Climbing narrow uphill winding streets clogged with tourists who photograph and fondle them in order to see restored traditional architecture is not, I expect, high on the list of any of the under 5 set. We did, however, on this last excursion, happen across this museum of Asia. In addition to spectacular views of the tiled-roofed village from the terrace, it also had many nice walls and statues (including lion fountains that would bite the hand of any liar silly enough to test the superstition), a restored schoolroom, a hands-on cultural experience room equipped with enough drums, fans, shoes and pestles to delight any small person, and a cheerful English guide who didn't hush you while you looked at Buddhist statuary.

Children, we have decided, must spend lots of time outdoors experiencing seasonal change through family hikes. So we take them to parks and mountains and palace grounds and show them trees and grass and photograph them against wholesome backdrops. Generally they enjoy it. For Canadian kids, however, they are getting a little short-changed in the nature department. But we do what we can here in this city of over 10 million souls. Autumn was lovely, with mild temperatures and vibrant Japanese maples. Too brief to document fully; but here are a few photos.

Dongdaemun is NOT a place to bring children. I love it, as I have said before, for its tangled mess of unexpected alleys, old markets, and the fact that you never find the same place twice. Look below - it's strange animal alley ("exotic pet store row"). Here are pets for those for whom dogs and cats just don't cut it. How about a hedgehog, or a beaver, a groundhog or some exotic poultry to keep you company? There are reptiles and amphibians galore, and small rodents to sustain them. Or small reptiles to sustain large rodents, if that's your preference. This, I think, is a Dongdaemun site that children would love - as long as they are unconcerned about population sizes vs. habitat or any other humane care issues.

Children's Seoul always must include Gyeongbak Palace, home to the children's museum, folk museum, palace museum, and the big palace itself with its pleasure grounds. Here the children can cavort with their favorite zodiac animals, admire Hanbok-clad wedding-photo couples, wear their favorite straw shoes, ring street-car bells, and evade roaming photographers who occasionally pick them up to place their faces in cardboard cut-outs of traditional Koreans. Sometimes they can fall out of trees. Childhood is a magical time.

I know that Children's Grand Park has been featured before, but look - have I ever shown you all the school groups in their matching outfits? I bet you have never before seen the likes of the "Crapas Bear Winter Kids." Ah Crapas Bear - why have you not caught on in the West? Also there is a aviary where you can feed tiny birds. If bird is one of your favorite things to point out to your Mommy - what better place is there? Sadly (or happily for the birds I guess) the aviary is closed for the winter. But still there are rides. I have found that the endless piling up of 100 and 500 won pieces can best be alleviated by feeding them into coin-rides at Children's Grand Park. The children seem to agree.

And finally, Here is Seoul Forest. Here you will find bridges, deer, play structures, pathways, computer screens that do things when you push buttons, and nice ladies who hand you maps. It is dreadful to drive to and if you arrive after noon you will wait up to an hour for a parking place, but then you can pick up sticks, float leaves in puddles, and play with your friends to your heart's content. So my strange and small aliens are still having fun in this heaving metropolis, and their curious and challenging spirits can find stimulation (and some islands of harmonious nature) amid the skyscrapers.

Family Festivities

I think this is my excuse blog entry. It has been almost two months since my last confession. October is, you see, a very busy time. Between Brian's late September birthday, and Jamie's in early November, we also have the fun of Thanksgiving, my birthday, and Halloween. In addition my mom was here for about a month, Jamie had a week off school, and we did some travelling. There was lots of single parenting since Brian was busy with the G20 and North Korea leaving no remaining time for recording and reflection. So, for want of any humorous anecdotes - here are some photos of the festivities:

Thanksgiving came in a box this year from Dragon Hill Lodge on the American base. I highly recommend it. The turkey was tasty, and although stuffing and side dishes are better made at home, the box made it possible to have a short-notice get together, and simply enjoy company.

Here am I with my two birthday parties. Champagne and cupcakes with friends of all ages, and the flaming inferno that was my family "house on fire" cake. Since the last 4 years (or 5 if you count the pregnancy) have been entirely focused on raising the young, my birthdays always come as a surprise to me. Apparently the small people are not the only ones who are growing older. This is worrying, not in the least because I'm not sure that my accomplishments are keeping pace with theirs. There will be time to reflect on this disparity, however, once I emerge alive on the other side.
Jamie turned 4. Here is his small family birthday. His large "Halloween birthday," referenced by the spider cake at the right of this photo, is actually what occupied my entire month of October. With 50 people ranging in age from 1-63, it was quite the affair. Here are Jamie and Iris trying on their various costume possibilities:
And here are some photos of the party itself. There were decorations, games, costumes, trick-or-treating, flowers, balloons, loot bags, presents, food and cake. I may have over estimated the party-game-potential of 4-year-olds, but much fun and frivolity ensued. It was, however, an incredible amount of work, and may well have over-taxed my already over-festived resources. But now there is nothing else to celebrate until - oh, are those sleigh bells I hear?

Unicorns and Rainbows

I heard that there was a new bakery at the 63 building (Eric Kayser), so off we went this rainy Sunday. The aquarium was its usual chaotic self with giant crabs, Unicorn tangs, otter tubes, underwater syncho and finger-nibbling Dr. Fish. We had planned a full day of 63 building fun, but IMAX seemed too scary, weather too rainy for scenic vista, and wax museum - well, we will save that for more desperate times.
Instead, we visited Seonyudo (Seonyu Island, in the middle of the Han River). This island is one of the centerpieces of a "New Seoul" millennium campaign that focuses on making Seoul more livable for its 10 million inhabitants. A former water filtration plant, it is now a "post-modern space" filled with water-themed gardens, walking paths, and some cultural and performance venues. It does not appear in much of the English tourist literature, so until a chance blog encounter a while back, we didn't know it existed. Brian found it by driving along Hangang Park and looking for an accessible island.

The vehicle-restricted island is reachable by a foot bridge (Rainbow Bridge, "mujigae-dari," designed by a French architect and a gift from France), which is supposed to offer stunning views of Seoul. Seoul wasn't really designed to appear stunning from the river I suppose, or designed at all for that matter. We enjoyed the greenhouse and sunken gardens, listened to some live jazz, saw some wildlife (middle left: Korean bunny, and decorated dog - they love the ear-dye here), remarked on the many photo-shoots and hair colours (blue and pink wigged footballers, and orange-hued musicians top-centre), and felt proud for having found a green space so close to home and so easily accessible. Rain resumed on the walk back (see recreation-seekers cowering under rainbow bridge bottom-right), but we did get a chance to witness two new team activities: top-right, soccer-volleyball, and below that a sort of Korean pinata. Large lantern-like balls were held on poles above people who hurled bean bags at them until they split open and out furled a scroll and some paper-wrapped treats. A bit mysterious, but we will seek further knowledge. Or we won't. Perhaps we will heed the advice below, and simply "Toss Education."

September swings the ups and downs

After a summer that seemed to last forever, the days grow short when you reach September - by which I mean to say that this month ended in an eye's blink. I am sad to report that during the month of September I lost my recently purchased new camera, so I'm back to the old one whose batteries die after three photos and whose flash ne fonctionne pas. Also, since I only have 45 minutes to complete this post before I must wake up Iris and take her to nanny so I can take Jamie to swimming lessons, this will be quick and ugly.
This is the Samsung Children's Museum. It was, as is usual here in Seoul, very tricky to get to, especially when travelling with four children. Although the displays were entirely in Korean, thus making it difficult to figure out how our kids were supposed to interact with the exhibits, there were many activities for them: a giant house that you could enhance with roof tiles, extra bricks and new rafters, complete with building cranes to help you get your gear to the top floor; a room where, it seemed, you could administer several intelligence tests to your young to find out which of the 8 types of IQ they had, enabling prediction of their future profession (allowing you to put them in their proper hagwans now); a room of machines that shot foam balls through a variety of tubes; a room full of water tables; a mock kitchen where you were encouraged to drum on the pots and pans and garbage cans etc.; a room in which you could video your kids playing musical instruments and performing well known songs (expertly, if you were Korean); a room of the future where you could wear metal hats that claimed to be able to read your brain waves (see Jamie, top-centre); a room that taught you the science of life and had a model of a pregnant woman you could ultrasound and puzzles of key life passages including the peeing boy bottom right (potty-training?). There was also a baby-play-room full of toy cars, and sadly, that's where all four children preferred to hang out.

Look, I made kim-bap. It only costs 3$ for 2 rolls and is available in every second shop here in Seoul, but I thought I would spend an afternoon learning to do it myself.

Yesterday I went as the parent helper on Jamie's school trip. We took about 40 kids 5 and under on a 2 hour and 45 minute bus ride (the driver got lost) to a kid's farm outside of Seoul. They made ice-cream, milked a cow (well, they lined up to individually squeeze the teat of a 8-month pregnant cow, who may have wanted to spend her last trimester otherwise), fed some calves, took a tractor ride and had a picnic. They admired the tank-loads of armed soldiers who clearly thought a children's activity farm was the best place to practice maneuvers. They glanced nervously at the videographer who, despite the teacher telling him not to film our children, followed them around filming them. They were loaded on a giant swing, and told it was for "photo only," and would break if they tried to swing on it. They were invited to feed the animals from the pile of hay and grasses provided for that purpose, but were told that the animals would likely bite - especially the ostrich who was notorious for biting children. They listened to long Korean explanations for things that by the time they were translated into English, and then French, were no longer remotely interesting to them. They were shepherded back and forth to various washrooms to wash various parts of them by their helpful parent volunteer, and then they got to get on the bus for the 2 hour ride home. I guess they had fun.

For Chuseok week, I went with the children (and some friends) to Busan for the week. There I lost my camera. Otherwise you could see photos of the darling children playing on the beautiful sandy beach, the seaside temple with the stunning views, the aquarium with its school of sharks swimming along with their tiny babies riding under their fins, and the giant house that was built for an APEC conference. Sadly, you can not. September is apparently the only time that it is possible to travel to Busan beaches while the sea is still swimmable to be able to glimpse the ocean through the crowds. The sun was (mostly) shining the water was (nearly) warm, the children were grubby (read happy). I was given chocolates, songpyeon (Chuseok rice cakes), glittery nail-polish and lip-gloss (?) and free tickets to Spa-topia in Asia's largest shopping mall (not for those under 12). I ate the chocolates. The hotel lacked beach facilities (eg. an outside shower to remove sand before traipsing it through the posh lobby - apparently mine were the only kids who required such amenities). The holiday-makers swarmed my children, making it hard for them to relax on the beach. My friend's kids spent the final two days vomiting. Everything was closed for two days because of the holiday, which corresponded to the only days too rainy to play outside. When I taxied my kids to the seaside Temple (Haedong Yonggungsa) it turned out to be far away from everything else. Unable to call for a new taxi, I had to make the taxi driver wait and thus had only a very quick visit. I promised Jamie a boat ride, but boat tours were apparently not running and operators kept telling me the weather (hot and sunny) was not suitable. Instead we spent an afternoon sitting on a rock and watching the boat tours (that we, for some reason, were not on) speed past the shore. But Jamie enjoyed the train ride, he got to visit many new kid's cafes, jump on hotel beds, and spend time with his friend. I got away from Seoul, which I had quite throughly explored over the summer, and finally saw those beaches that everyone is on about. Iris got to sleep with Mommy for 4 nights, and "run around, run around, run around." Brian got to work long days in Seoul and have a lie-in on his day off. So, apart from the tragic camera loss, we are glad we went on holiday.

Look - it was Brian's birthday. He ate steak and salmon, cake and ice-cream, played with his kids and built some Lego. I'm sure he has never been happier.

Here is the boy in a bubble. Properly, I guess this should be paired with photos of our children surrounded by Koreans remarking on their features, praising their antics, and trying to film them thus providing a montage that underlines the whole hamster-in-a-cage phenomenon that is their lives, but instead it is just Jamie enjoying rolling around on the surface of water in a giant ball. Also metaphorical I think.

Sorak National Park

Mid-August we went on our first Korean mini-break and drove to Sorak National Park in Gangwan Province (Heavenly Blessed Land: Gangwan-do). The drive was quite lovely with mountain views and glimpses of the East Sea (Koreans don't say the Sea of Japan). Upon arrival, we took the Sorak Cable Car up Kwangomsan (a high, and very windy mountain), and admired the vista. There was a very small temple (Allak Temple) harboring a very wide monk with very bad cell-phone reception. I may have preferred chanting to shouting - but you have to stay connected I suppose.

Day two we trekked the easy Piryang Waterfall Trail, to admire the 13 waterfalls along the path and marvel at the trail's namesake that is said to look like a great flying dragon wending its way down the rocks. Climb was a bit rocky and unstable at times, but Jamie is a trooper and Iris enjoyed the ride. It was amazingly refreshing to be away from Seoul, and the mountains were indeed lovely.

The area is also a big beach destination. The East Sea beaches are lined with tenement no-frills pensions, tourist draws (horsewagons, family bikes, an Edison phonograph museum, and a man-made lake to stroll about), and boast sandy beaches equipped with requisite inner-tube rentals and beach umbrellas. Once again the beach day we chose was a rainy and windy one - but we played a bit for form's sake.
At the entrance to the National Park is Shinhungsa Temple which boasted a very large Buddha, vibrant guardian statues, and dragons adorning the stairwells. Jamie and Iris really like running about in sandy temple grounds, and mountain temples are extremely picturesque.
We stayed in the Kensington Stars Hotel, a British Theme Hotel complete with double-decker buses (this one unfortunately advertising something slightly rude), royal nick-knacks and peeling Victorian-inspired wall-paper. There were oh-so-British family Norebangs in the basement, but we did not indulge. The hotel had a great location, but not much else in its favour.
A few asides. Bottom right are the anti-tank defenses that line the roads. When blown up, they litter the highway with heavy concrete blocks preventing enemy passage. Top right are pictures of the Tyrolean-hatted bear and his small cub who offer advise throughout the National Park. The mountains are known for Sanchae or mountain vegetables, renowned in Temple food. The easier trails come to groups of colourful kiosks where women sit sorting and washing these chewy and slightly furry delicacies (centre bottom). Sanchae bibimbap (mid-left) is a regional dish that we ate at practically every meal while away. My jaw muscles were very strong by the end of the trip. Soraksan was well worth the visit, and would be stunning (though crowded) in the Autumn. The beaches probably merit another look next summer. Jamie thought it was all too far away and there wasn't enough for kids to play - but that was only because he wasn't allowed to stop at the giant Santa's Bouncy Castle at Sokcho beach. Next time we will take Brian to the Edison museum and let Jamie take a wagon ride. I will be happy to merely gaze at misty mountains and chew furry roots.