I have a lot of memories in Seoul.
When my wife and I were dating long distance, we took turns meeting in Gunsan and Seoul.
We dated for about nine years. Sometimes I wonder if we’ve ever been somewhere, only to find a photo we took there years ago.
After moving out, getting married and settling in Gyeonggi-do, we started spending much less of our free time in Seoul.
I love being at home with just the two of us. I also commute to Seoul during the week, so by the weekend I usually want to stay away from it.
Lately, though, I’ve wanted to revisit the places we used to go and do some of the things we did when we were dating.
We always liked seeing plays in Hyehwa, so we decided to catch a play there and visit Deoksugung afterward.
When we arrived at Hyehwa Station, familiar sights caught my eye: the red brick building whose name I still don’t know, street food stalls and people out on the street promoting plays.
We saw a play called Sanae Yeonae Bogoseo. Before the show, one of the actors who plays several roles picked a few people from the audience and asked why they deserved a gift.
One person said they’d come from Busan, another from Seattle. Someone else said they had a disability and had come to see the play in a wheelchair. Then, suddenly, it was my wife’s turn.
Caught off guard, she blurted out, “We’ve been living together for two years.”
When I asked her later, she said the words had come out before she could think. I hadn’t thought of an answer either. I’d been sitting there thinking, “Please don’t pick me.” I probably wouldn’t have done much better.
She’d never been put on the spot like that at a play before and said she’d panicked and said whatever came to mind. I think I’d do the same if someone suddenly asked me a question.
The actors really gave their voices a workout. We enjoyed the play, then got on a bus toward our next stop, Deoksugung.
Had it been so long since I’d traveled around Jongno on a weekend that I’d forgotten what it was like? The bus barely moved. I wondered what was going on, then realized there was a protest.
Aaaaaargh!!!
We got off the bus and started walking. A large hanok, a traditional Korean house, appeared beside the road. We both like finding things we hadn’t planned for, so we went straight in.
It turned out to be Unhyeongung, where Heungseon Daewongun had lived.
Thinking about it, I studied Korean history in middle school, took the science track in high school and studied engineering at university. I’ve never really studied it properly. So finding Heungseon Daewongun’s house out of nowhere was a surprise.
My wife heard the name Unhyeongung and knew it was his house. I was impressed by that, too.
Whenever I visit a palace or a hanok within the old city walls, I imagine looking out through one of these windows in the Joseon era, before tall buildings were everywhere. That must have had a lovely atmosphere of its own.
Then I remember the bloody parts of Joseon history and think life in a palace probably wasn’t easy either. I don’t know enough about it, so I’ll just enjoy the atmosphere.
There was also a small art exhibition at Unhyeongung. The exhibitors were people with day jobs who had learned minhwa, traditional Korean folk painting.
Learning to paint these themselves takes dedication. Their paintings were impressive, too.
After taking photos and spending some time at Unhyeongung, we started walking toward Deoksugung again.
Maybe ten minutes later, we came to an alley with upscale galleries, traditional craft shops and displays of casual hanbok clothing.
“Is this Insadong?” we wondered as we walked. Sure enough, we came out of the alley onto Insadong’s main street.
The last time we’d been here was for a tea fair. My wife loves tea. This time she was excited to look around the shops, especially at ilwol obongdo paintings of the sun, moon and five peaks, and mother-of-pearl lacquerware.
When I was little, my grandmother’s house had plenty of black wardrobes and boxes decorated with mother-of-pearl. I didn’t think much of them then. These days, I find those decorations beautiful.
We looked around a few shops and visited Ssamzigil again. Some of the lamps there combined hanji paper craft with lighting.
There were floor lamps, wall lamps and table lamps in different sizes. I wanted to bring one home for our bedroom, something with the soft glow I imagine from candlelight in the Joseon era.
I also noticed lots of one-day workshops where you could make something using mother-of-pearl or hanji paper. I’d like to try making my own mother-of-pearl piece sometime.
After some deliberation, my wife bought a mother-of-pearl ring. Funnily enough, they were selling abalone shells next to the rings for 6,000 won each.
We had so many shells left over after eating abalone over the holidays. Should I start selling them as a side job?
After dinner, we headed toward Deoksugung again.
Then Cheonggyecheon appeared. I hadn’t expected to fit that in, too. This day was like an onion: peel back one layer and there’s something else to do.
It had been a while since I’d visited Cheonggyecheon, and now there were comfortable, beanbag-like seats beside the water. I used to spend ages there staring at the stream. A bird, maybe a heron, would turn up and catch fish, and I’d sit and watch. It brought back a lot of memories.
On the way, I had a soft-serve cone from McDonald’s. I hardly ever snack, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had one.
I remembered them costing 500 won. This one was 1,500 won. Of course the price had gone up, but it still surprised me.
My parents used to tell me about jajangmyeon costing 100 won and ramyeon costing 50 won. I couldn’t imagine it.
If I tell my kids one day that a small cup of tteokbokki was 300 won, a bigger one 500 won and a serving in a foam container 1,000 won, they’ll probably have the same reaction.
Will a soft-serve cone really cost 3,000 won by then?
The plan had been to go straight from the play in Hyehwa to Deoksugung. We’d found so much to do along the way that it already felt like a full day.
Just as we were getting close to Deoksugung, we saw lots of beanbags spread across the plaza at Seoul City Hall. Soft music was playing. People were lying down for a nap, reading books or looking at their phones.
I wondered what this was. It turned out to be Seoul’s outdoor library.
We were tired after dinner, and the air was cool. This is one of those short, precious stretches of the year in Korea when just being outside feels good. We settled in and listened to the music. I took a short nap while my wife read.
Sometimes I go to a cafe on the weekend intending to read, but it’s too noisy. The book often comes home with me, and I read it there instead.
Here, the open space, background music and everyday sounds felt just right together. I wanted to come back with a book.
We left ten minutes before the 8 p.m. admission cutoff at Deoksugung, only to find a fairly long line.
We hurried over before it got any longer. Luckily, we made it inside at exactly 7:59 p.m.!
The grounds closed at 9 p.m., so we walked around while we could. Some buildings had the lower sections of their paper-covered window panels raised, which let us see inside.
We took photos and chatted about what we were seeing. Then we came to Seokjojeon, a stone building that looks different from the buildings at the other palaces.
Every time I visit Deoksugung, I think I’ll come back for the tour inside Seokjojeon. I’ve never managed to get a reservation. I want to see what’s in there!
We stayed until 9 p.m., enjoying Deoksugung in the cool autumn air, then headed straight home.
We got on the subway at Seoul Station. Luckily, it wasn’t crowded, so the ride home was comfortable. Even the end of the day worked out perfectly!
We’d only planned two stops: Hyehwa and Deoksugung. So much else turned up along the way. I was annoyed when the protest held up our bus, but without it we might never have visited Unhyeongung or walked through Insadong. Then there was my first McDonald’s cone in ages, the outdoor library…
I really treasure these little gifts life hands us.