I have been posting away at my Tumblr photoblog, though.

Anyway, will be posting more consistently here from this day forward.

MAIN POST: Last weekend, I went with a friend of mine on a long awaited trip to Baegyangsa, a Buddhist temple famous throughout Korea for its spectacular autumn foliage. I should rather say I met a friend of mine down there—unfortunately, I missed the early morning bus and had to go separately by KTX.

Hidden in a valley at the foot of Mt. Baegamsan, the temple and its mountain are actually part of Naejangsan National Park. Thanks to its deep crimson foliage, the park is one of the most popular in Korea come autumn. It’s certainly a must see, but be warned, it can also be something of a madhouse—I tried to take a cab from Jangseong Station to the temple, but had to get out several kilometers out and walk since traffic was at an absolute standstill.

This is the shot everyone goes for.

It’d have been nice to have had a bit more sun on the crimson maples to the left, but I’ll take it.

The pavilion, Ssanggyeru, was first erected in the mid-14th century, although what you see now dates from a 1980 reconstruction. It’s been a favorite scenic spot for quite a while—even famed late Goryeo official and scholar Jeong Mong-ju wrote a poem about it. The harmony of mountain, rock, trees, water and architecture make for a truly stunning sight.

For even better versions of this shot, check out my friend Justin’s shot here (taken on same day) and Im Chang-kyung’s photos here.

You take the shot of the pavilion from the stepping stones. Yes, it’s crowded, both with photographers and pedestrians trying to cross in both directions. It’s even more unpleasant that it seems, because there’s a steep drop just behind the stepping stones, which can get quite slippery. Lots of ways to lose thousands of dollars in camera equipment. If you have thousands of dollars in camera equipment, which sadly, not all of us do.

Does make for a pretty picture, though.

And to think we were actually a bit late—the colors were apparently even nicer the week before!

A short (roughly 30 min) but steep hike up the mountain brings you to Yaksaam Hermitage, where there’s an observation deck with good views of the Baegyangsa Valley.

If I had to pick Korea’s defining vista, it’s the wave of ridges. I hear the Blue Ridge Mountains are lovely, but really, pretty much all of Korea looks like that.

Just above the hermitage is a grotto and a very welcome mineral water spring. If you’d like to bag the peak, there are paths that’ll take you there, but put aside five hours for the round trip.

Yaksaam also affords nice views of Baegyangsa Temple itself. Founded in the seventh century, Baegyangsa is one of the most important temples in southwest Korea and one of the country’s leading Seon (“Zen”) centers. Several of its hall are heritage properties; unfortunately, I really didn’t have a chance to look at them as there were events going on at the time.

GETTING THERE

The small town of Jangseong is the gateway to Baegyangsa. Surprising as this may sound, it’s actually a KTX stop, and is the point where the Honam Line splits with one fork going to Mokpo and the other to Gwangju. Trains to Jangseong depart from Seoul’s Yongsan Station, and take about 2 hrs, 30 min. From Jangseong, you’ll need to take a local bus to the temple.

There are also Mugunghwa trains from Yongsan that stop at Baegyangsa Station. It’s a shorter bus ride to the temple, but the train trek itself is nearly four hours.

NOTE: Gwangju is just 1 hr, 30 min away by bus.

FYI

There’s a 3,000 won national park entry fee.

Map

View Baegyangsa Temple in a larger map

Lovely skies over Seoul this evening, and I was fortunate to have my camera with me.

For the full write-up about Gwanghwamun Gate and its many ups and downs, check out my post written after the gate was restored to its original condition in 2010.

Heukseok-dong is an older neiborhood built on a hillside on the south bank of the Hangang River, and if you’ve got time, it’s worth walking about. At the top of the hill is a small park with a wood observation deck providing good views of the Hangang River, Nodeul Island and Yeouido.

The sun sets over Yeouido.

The 63 Building and the Hangang Railway Bridge… or Bridges, to be more precise, as there are actually four of ‘em, the oldest dating from 1900.

Linking the Yongsan neighborhood north of the Hangang River with Dongjak south of the river, the Hangang Bridge has served as Seoul’s gateway for nearly a century.

The Japanese began work on the bridge in 1916, completing construction in October of the following year. It is the oldest pedestrian and automobile bridge over the Hangang River (private cars did not appear in Korea until 1912).

Originally, the bridge consisted of two bridges: a larger span beginning from the south and a shorter span from the north. The two met at a sandbar in the middle of the river, which the Japanese created as an artificial island. Immediately, it became a Seoul landmark and popular tourist destination. In the summer, it was lit up with decorative lights, providing Seoul residents with a grand spot for summer evening walks. More importantly, the opening of traffic over the Hangang River encouraged the urbanization of areas south of the Hangang River, especially the industrial zone of Yeongdeungpo.

In 1925, a massive flood battered the bridge, causing heavy damage. By this time, it had grown obsolete and too small for the rapidly growing needs of the city. Construction of a new bridge began in 1934 at a cost of 2,518,000 won. The improved tied-arch bridge was completed in October 1937. This is the very bridge you see today. For decades, it was the only road into Seoul from the south.

Soon after the outbreak of the Korean War, the Hangang Bridge was demolished in a panic to stop the North Koreans from crossing the river. The demolition was a human and military disaster—the bridge may have had as many as 4,000 people on it when it was blown, many of whom were civilian refugees. It also led to the disintegration of much of the South Korean army, which was still fighting north of the river with the bulk of the army’s heavy weaponry.

In 1979, work got underway on a twin bridge next to the old one, and the new bridge opened in 1981.

Getting There

The park is not far from either Noryang or Heukseok stations, Line 9.

View Yongbongjeon Park in a larger map

According to the Chosun Ilbo, the heads of major Korean corporations and their relatives have been purchasing Korean traditional homes, or hanok, in the Bukchon neighborhood, driving up real estate prices. One long-time resident told the paper if you don’t have 1 billion won, you can’t buy a home here. As many of the corporate types moving in are buying hanok as second homes, the neighborhood’s atmosphere is changing since a lot of the homes are empty much of the time.

The rise in real estate prices has also driven up rents for local craftsmen who run workshops in the neighborhood.

Note about photo: Taken on my lunch hour Wednesday from the small elevated parking lot atop 31 Gahoe-dong.

In the old days, Mt. Daemosan was called Mt. Halmisan (“Grandmother Mountain”) as it was said to resemble an old grandmother. The name was changed to Daemosan on royal order after the tomb of King Taejong of Goryeo was placed there. There are a number of theories behind the name—one posits that the mountain resembles a sitting Buddhist nun, while another says it looks like a woman’s breasts.

I’m just saying.

Anyway, on very clear day, the peak of Mt. Daemosan—actually, an observation platform just below the peak—offers gorgeous views of southern Seoul and the Hangang River. In summer, though, bring mosquito repellent—the swarms can get pretty thick up here.

Sadly, we’d just missed the sunset, which we were told was quite nice this evening.

At 200mm, you can get some nice shots of Yeouido and the Hangang River, including the big World Cup Fountain near Seongsan Bridge. For those keeping score at home, the fountain shoots water up to 202m high.

When the weather is clear, you can see all the way out to Mt. Namsan (of course) and Bukhansan National Park.

And yes, this would be the Samsung Tower Palace Apartments, which is where Korea’s “1%” live. The tallest of the towers, Tower G, is 74 stories high and designed, naturally enough, by US-based Skidmore, Owings and Merrill. What’s interesting about Tower G—aside from it being the eighth-tallest all-residential building in the world—is that its design apparently served as a model for Dubai’s landmark Burj Khalifa, the world’s largest building. The Burj was also designed by Skidmore, Owings and Merrill and built by Samsung C&T.

More Info

The entrance to the park is a short walk from Exit 4 or 5 of Irwol Station, Line 3

View Daemosan in a larger map

Or perhaps not—they were really easy to miss. It didn’t help that the area just in front of the compound was until very recently a work site.

This compound was the Seokpajeong, the historic villa of Prince Regent Heungseon—better known by his Korean title, the Daewongun—who led Korea through much of the traumatic late 19th century. Famed for its scenic beauty, the villa changed hands many times after the Korean War and until recently was closed to general public.

Last week, however, Seokpajeong—and the hill on which it sits—was finally unveiled as Seoul Museum, the city’s newest art space. And what a space it is. Seriously, make this your reason to visit Buam-dong this weekend—you won’t be disappointed.

Seoul Museum

Seoul Museum is owned by pharmaceutical company CEO and art collector Ahn Byung-gwang.

Ahn purchased the Seokpajeong in 2006. He restored the old villa and build into the hill below it a 500-pyeong exhibit space.

To mark its opening, Seoul Museum is hosting through Nov 21 an exhibit of drawings and paintings by six Korean artists—including Korean favorite Lee Jung-seop—who held an exhibit together at the Renaissance Coffee House (dabang) in Busan in 1952:

The exhibition focuses on six artists including Lee who held an exhibition at a coffee shop in Busan in the cold winter of 1952 ― even as the Korean War was still raging on ― shedding light on their artistic endeavors while battling poverty in the war-ravaged country. The five other artists include Han Mook, Park Ko-suk, Lee Bong-sang and Sohn Eung-seong and Jeong Gyu.

Yes, the gallery has a coffee shop where you, too, can photograph your significant other holding admission tickets. You can also enjoy cheese cake served in a gourd… which is an unusual way to serve cheese cake.

Wife and some other dude taking in “The Bull,” Lee Jung-seop’s best known painting. Lee’s life was indicative of the times in which he lived. Born into a wealthy family in what is now North Korea, he studied art in Japan, where his paintings met with critical success. He returned to Korea in 1944 and married a Japanese woman the next year. Then things started to go bad—his first child died, the Korean War erupted, and he spent most of the rest of his life wandering around Busan, Tongyeong and Jeju-do. His wife took his two children to Japan in 1952, and aside from one five-day visit, he never saw them again. He would produce some of his finest work afterwards, but it was personally draining, and he died in 1956 at the age of 40.

It’s still got that new museum smell. The shiny floor makes for some fun photographs, too.

Seokpajeong

Take the elevator to the third floor of the museum, and there’s a door leading to the Seokpajeong.

The Seokpajeong was originally the villa of Kim Heung-geun, a high official who served as Chief State Councillor during the reign of King Cheoljong. Occupying a particularly lovely spot in a scenic valley of Mt. Inwangsan just outside Seoul’s city walls, the villa enjoyed spectacular views of the surrounding mountains and forests. So spectacular they were, in fact, that the villa was considered one of Seoul’s finest, and after Cheoljong’s death, the Daewongun offered to buy it from Kim. When Kim refused to sell, the Daewongun instead asked to borrow it for a day. As it was considered bad form to refuse such a request, Kim lent him the villa for a day. When the Daewongun visited, however, he cleverly brought along his son, the young King Gojong. Father and son spent the night at the villa. As it was considered law that a subject may not live at place where the king has stayed, Kim turned the villa over to the Daewongun.

Or so it is said.

The villa stayed in the Daewongun’s family until the Korean War. After the war, it changed hands a couple of times. At one time, it was even used as an orphanage run by the Columban Fathers, which is bit ironic considering the Daewongun’s role in the history of Korean Catholicism.

The villa is embraced by verdant trees, grand hillsides and white granite cliffs. Along one side is a running brook. If there’s a late summer breeze going, you won’t want to leave. Ever.

As is typical for Korean architecture, the villa conforms to the landscape, making use of the hills, trees and cliffs. I just love the brick arch gate, too—you can find a similar gate at Deoksugung Palace, too. The gate is adorned with flying cranes with the so-called “herb of immortality” in their beaks.

The Chinese characters “Samgyedong” (“Three Brooks Village”) are engraved in a rock just west of the main hall. The original name for the villa, Samgyejeongja (“Three Brooks Pavilion”), was taken from this engraving. Since the pavilion sits on what is essentially a slab of granite, the Daewongun changed its name to Seokpajeong (“Stone Pass Pavilion”). He liked the name so much, in fact, that he subsequently adopted “Seokpa” as his own pen name.

There’s a wonderfully gnarled pine tree just west of the main building. The views of Mt. Bugaksan are inspiring—look closely, and you can see Seoul’s medieval city wall snaking along its ridge line. Not much has changed since the Daewongun’s day.

Over a running brook in a small shaded valley near the main complex is a unique pavilion where the Daewongun would (presumably) come to relax. The exotic gazebo has a wonderful (if admittedly long) name, the Yususeongjunggwanpungnu, which translates as “Pavilion Where You Can Listen to the Running Water While Viewing the Foliage.”

You’ll notice the pavilion is not Korean in style. The intricate latticework, copper plate roof and arched brick foundation are very Chinese, and reflect the tastes of the late 19th century, when Qing Dynasty architecture came into fashion in Korea, where for a time it was regarded as modern. There used to be a Chinese-style brick building here, too, but in the 1950s, it was moved just down the road to Seokparang, a high-end Korean eatery.

Pen artist Kim Yeong-taek drew what the villa must have looked like before the brick pavilion was moved. He drew this pavilion, too.

The last photo is a panorama composed with Hugin.

The essence of Korean landscaping is to utilize the natural landscape with as little human input as possible. And here it is in practice—a running brook and some boulders beneath a tree canopy, with just a pavilion to provide a viewing spot.

The Seokpajeong promises to be even lovelier in autumn, when the trees turn color.

Expect a return visit.

More Info

Hours: 11am to 7pm (5pm for the Seokpajeong)
Admission: 9,000 won
Contact: T. (02) 395-0100, www.seoulmuseum.org
Getting There: Take bus #1020, 1711, 7016, 7018, 7022 or 7212 from Exit 3, Gyeongbokgung Station, Line 3 and get off at Jahamun Tunnel Entrance (자하문터널입구). See here for a map.

In addition to its strategic and feng shui importance, Mt. Inwangsan is considered a sacred peak, particular with shamans. David Mason’s page on the mountain explores the spiritual importance of the mountain better than I ever could.

The peak of Mt. Inwangsan offers some of the finest views of downtown Seoul—the sunrises, sunsets and nighttime views are especially picturesque. A warning, however—since the peak overlooks the presidential palace of Cheong Wa Dae and is home to a good many military installations, expect to get your camera examined if you’re shooting with a tripod, and don’t photograph in the direction of Cheong Wa Dae or anything that looks like a military facility.

Ah, the sun sets over the Hangang River beyond the hills. The peak with the radar installation on the left is Mt. Ansan, the peak of which offers some of the best sunrise shots in Seoul.

Yeouido’s 63 Building probably requires no introduction. What I like about this shot is that it really gives you a sense of the rugged topography on the outskirts of Seoul.

As the sun set and twilight set in, Mother Nature treated us with some lovely blues, reds and purples. It sometimes helps to get above the urban jungle to appreciate just how beautiful the world really is.

Speaking of the urban jungle, this is the view people come here for. As you can see, the weather was considerably clearer than the last time I came here (in the middle of the spring hwangsa season).

And a little bit later in the evening.

If you zoom in, you can even get a shot of Seoul Square, the public art space that covers the old Daewoo Building in front of Seoul Station. I have another shot of this Seoul landmark which I will post later.

MAP

View Mt. Inwangsan in a larger map

Just another lovely summer evening sky, this time over Deoksugung Palace.

Deoksugung is something of an old friend of mine. I just love its many contrasts—old vs. new, Eastern vs. Western, nature vs. manmade. In a way, it’s a microcosm of Seoul itself.

The good weather just keeps on keeping on.

After some rain showers yesterday afternoon, the sky really opened up nicely.

If I’d had more time, I’d have gone up a mountain as I had the previous two evenings (posts coming soon), but by the time I left the office, there wasn’t much sunlight left, so I stopped by Myeong-dong Intersection to snap a shot or two.

Yes, I used a bit of compositing for the traffic trails.

One thing I love about this scene is that it includes a good bit of Seoul’s history, too. As Adeel notes, “One of the most unfortunate things about Seoul is that, for a city that has been a capital for over 600 years and a city for 2,000 years, there is not much visible history.” This is largely true, but at the same time, there’s much more history remaining than you might think. It’s one of the more charming aspects of Seoul, in fact—beneath the glass, steel and concrete, you can often find hidden reminders of the city’s past, especially if you know what you’re looking for.

In this case, you don’t even need to look—on the left is the Shinsegae Department Store (formerly the Seoul branch of the Mitsukoshi Department Store, 1930) and neoclassical SC First Bank (originally the Choson Savings Bank, 1933), and on the right is the old Bank of Korea headquarters, completed in 1912 and designed by Japanese architect Tatsuno Kingo, one of Asia’s first Western-trained architects. There’s quite a bit of history nearby, too, including Seoul’s old Chinatown and, of course, Myeong-dong Cathedral.

I’d love to learn a bit more about the fountain (which was sadly not in operation when I took these shots), but can never find any historical info on the Web.

A lot of photographers take this shot around Christmas, when the department store and fountain are lit up. I did, too, although I like this photo much more.

Architecturally, the Seogang Bridge is one of the lovelier of the Hangang River bridges. It didn’t go up easily, though. Initial construction began in 1980, but work was eventually suspended due to environmental concerns.

The bridge wasn’t completed until 1999.

At one time, they used to light the bridge up, but no longer as the island it passes over is a protected bird sanctuary.

The winding beltways along the concrete embankments of the Hangang River may be environmentally destructive and have probably done more than any other factor to cut the river off from the daily lives of Seoul’s people. But they make for some nice nighttime photographs, especially if you can get a bit higher.

If you’ve got an interest in these sort of things, the bridge is of a type called—erroneously, it would seem—a Nielsen-Lohse bridge in some parts of the world.

Bamseom Island is the low-lying island (two islands, actually) over which the bridge crosses. It’s now an uninhabited, protected sanctuary for migratory birds, but until the 1960s, it was home to a small community of shipbuilders.

In 1968, however, the villagers were evicted and the island was blasted to obtain the rock and soil and soil needed to develop the flood-prone sandbar just across the river, Yeouido.

These photos were shot from a rooftop garden atop an “officetel” not far from Exit 5 of Gwangheungchang Station, Line 6. Anyone can go up there, but you need to pay 30,000 won (50,000 if you’ve got a group of five or more).