This photo is a pretty good snapshot of my experience here so far: even right downtown in the middle of the city, there are these beautiful old villages just built into the hillside.
Monday, July 4, 2011
A Village in a City
This photo is a pretty good snapshot of my experience here so far: even right downtown in the middle of the city, there are these beautiful old villages just built into the hillside.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Typos
I just wanted to apologize if there are any glaring typos in my posts. When I post via my phone it's hard to read my post before I publish it and I'm not too skilled at typing on those tiny touchscreen keyboards yet. Forgive me if you see a lot of "thd"s instead of "the"s and other sad mistakes!
An Evening Ride Beyond the Rice Paddies
Tonight after work I went for a bike ride that ended up being an about-two-and-a-half-hour trip. First I started down a concrete path that is often my starting point for after-work adventures.
What look like lush fields flooding all the way up to the mountains are actually rice paddies, but you can't see until you're closer to the water that they're springing from.
Eventually the path becomes a rough dirt road, and I'd forgotten to take this and the heavy rains we've had from monsoon season into account. The dirt had melted into mud, and it was the kind that grabbed my bike's wheels and kept causing me to skid or get sucked in. Seeing as much of the path is hedged on either side by steep drops or wet rice paddies, I resolved to come back by a different way, because I knew by then it would be dark.
I was glad to reach the old train tracks that signaled a paved road and decided to head off in the direction I'd gone last time. That way leads out to an interesting village and several old roads that slip beneath the highway bridge. It's fascinating to look at the abandoned train cars, disintegrating like big metal bones in grassy graves, but I was also thinking it might rain, and the overpass could be my shelter. (I should mention here that I'm relieved it didn't storm while I was out; riding around on a metal bike when I'm the tallest thing around would have been a little bit too hair-raising, I think.)
But in the end I went another way, a way I'd never been before. I drove past some old houses and a traditional restaurant, and finally found a road. I crossed it to return to civilization and found myself in a part of the city where I'd never been before.
After wandering around a bit I encountered a fascinating restaurant. I couldn't help but gape in awe at just the building (see below), so I hope I can return to eat inside someday.
At some point after this I began the long trek home. When I reached the highway I rode along the handy bike path and enjoyed some awesome scenic views:
At some point, though, I began to see signs only for other cities and not mine. Somehow I'd lost sight of all the buildings that stand starkly on one edge of my rice paddy rides. All I could see were fields, mountains, and the purple clouds growing deeper, darker.
I'd been going the wrong way, riding deep into the country, and it was getting dark.
I turned around and gained some speed, but soon I was getting nosefuls of bugs as I zoomed along the road. This had spoiled my nice evening ride before, so the other day I acquired a bandana for shielding all my airholes. I retrieved it and employed it and it worked even better than I had expected.
Soon I was zipping along, the cool night wind rushing through my hair, the bugs all strained out by my mask...and then there was a hill. A giant hill.
By the time I reached the top, I was panting and heaving, feeling tired, hungry, and dehydrated...but look!
The city was no longer lost! It was exactly where I'd left it, awaiting my return.
I sailed down the hill and home, sweet home, again.
What look like lush fields flooding all the way up to the mountains are actually rice paddies, but you can't see until you're closer to the water that they're springing from.
Eventually the path becomes a rough dirt road, and I'd forgotten to take this and the heavy rains we've had from monsoon season into account. The dirt had melted into mud, and it was the kind that grabbed my bike's wheels and kept causing me to skid or get sucked in. Seeing as much of the path is hedged on either side by steep drops or wet rice paddies, I resolved to come back by a different way, because I knew by then it would be dark.
I was glad to reach the old train tracks that signaled a paved road and decided to head off in the direction I'd gone last time. That way leads out to an interesting village and several old roads that slip beneath the highway bridge. It's fascinating to look at the abandoned train cars, disintegrating like big metal bones in grassy graves, but I was also thinking it might rain, and the overpass could be my shelter. (I should mention here that I'm relieved it didn't storm while I was out; riding around on a metal bike when I'm the tallest thing around would have been a little bit too hair-raising, I think.)
But in the end I went another way, a way I'd never been before. I drove past some old houses and a traditional restaurant, and finally found a road. I crossed it to return to civilization and found myself in a part of the city where I'd never been before.
After wandering around a bit I encountered a fascinating restaurant. I couldn't help but gape in awe at just the building (see below), so I hope I can return to eat inside someday.
At some point after this I began the long trek home. When I reached the highway I rode along the handy bike path and enjoyed some awesome scenic views:
At some point, though, I began to see signs only for other cities and not mine. Somehow I'd lost sight of all the buildings that stand starkly on one edge of my rice paddy rides. All I could see were fields, mountains, and the purple clouds growing deeper, darker.
I'd been going the wrong way, riding deep into the country, and it was getting dark.
I turned around and gained some speed, but soon I was getting nosefuls of bugs as I zoomed along the road. This had spoiled my nice evening ride before, so the other day I acquired a bandana for shielding all my airholes. I retrieved it and employed it and it worked even better than I had expected.
Soon I was zipping along, the cool night wind rushing through my hair, the bugs all strained out by my mask...and then there was a hill. A giant hill.
By the time I reached the top, I was panting and heaving, feeling tired, hungry, and dehydrated...but look!
The city was no longer lost! It was exactly where I'd left it, awaiting my return.
I sailed down the hill and home, sweet home, again.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Swashbuckling with Umbrellas
More swashbuckling occurred tonight. My coworker is awesome. He deserves mad props for putting up with me all day and then sparring with me in a public street using short umbrella swords. Why isn't everyone this cool? ;)
P.S.
Would a more fitting title for this post be Return of Swashbuckling with Umbrellas? Or maybe Son of...
Yeah, that's it.
P.S.
Would a more fitting title for this post be Return of Swashbuckling with Umbrellas? Or maybe Son of...
Yeah, that's it.
Exploits of a Decliningly Picky Eater
Today I had shrimp soup with tofu in it, and I was astounded at how delicious the shrimp was. I think seafood is way better than I give it credit for.
I've also eaten squid tentacles, which are surprisingly bland, not to mention tough and chewy, and not nearly as disgusting as I'd previously thought.
I also got to partake of a fascinating array of fresh leaves the other night. Some seemed like lettuce, others more like mint, sesame, etc. - but some of them smelled like the grass in my back yard in the States and some reminded me of dandelion leaves. Here you eat a lot of things wrapped in other things (rice in seaweed, for example, which is also quite tastier than I'd envisioned), so eating meat wrapped in who-knows-what-kinds-of-leaves is both natural and delicious. Salads aren't too big here (with the exception of long-haired cole slaw under Thousand Island sauce) so it's one of the best ways to get fresh vegetables, I think.
Anyway, I'm sure I'll further the adventures of my palate and have a sequel entry soon.
I've also eaten squid tentacles, which are surprisingly bland, not to mention tough and chewy, and not nearly as disgusting as I'd previously thought.
I also got to partake of a fascinating array of fresh leaves the other night. Some seemed like lettuce, others more like mint, sesame, etc. - but some of them smelled like the grass in my back yard in the States and some reminded me of dandelion leaves. Here you eat a lot of things wrapped in other things (rice in seaweed, for example, which is also quite tastier than I'd envisioned), so eating meat wrapped in who-knows-what-kinds-of-leaves is both natural and delicious. Salads aren't too big here (with the exception of long-haired cole slaw under Thousand Island sauce) so it's one of the best ways to get fresh vegetables, I think.
Anyway, I'm sure I'll further the adventures of my palate and have a sequel entry soon.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Trying a New App
I'm trying out Bloggeroid, hoping it will have less glitches than the “official” Blogger app.
I hear you can include pictures within your posts so I'm gonna post a few and see how they turn out. Thanks for bearing with me!
A Watch Out for Lethal Giant Fish sign at the aquarium in Seoul.
Watermelon served on a frying pan, eaten at floor level, during a muggy monsoon season night in June.
Alright, let's see how this posts!
I hear you can include pictures within your posts so I'm gonna post a few and see how they turn out. Thanks for bearing with me!
A Watch Out for Lethal Giant Fish sign at the aquarium in Seoul.
Watermelon served on a frying pan, eaten at floor level, during a muggy monsoon season night in June.
Alright, let's see how this posts!
콘푸레이크 (Kone Pulaykeu)
Say the title of this post really quickly a few times and you might be able to discern the Konglish. Sorry that I still can't get my Blogger app to turn the picture the right way. But check out Corn Flakes in Korean:
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