CAFE BENE – NOON
We open on CHRIS, a waegook in a white t-shirt and jeans, sipping on a black coffee with a copy of “Jitterbug Perfume” open on his lap and an assortment of luggage around his table. A tent, a sleeping bag, two backpacks. He is reading when JENNY enters, wearing jean shorts and a maroon shirt. They hug and gather their things and head out into the city to catch a ride to—
DAEGU BUS STATION – A SHORT WHILE LATER
The couple is boarding a bus headed for Tongyeong. This is their first big adventure together in South Korea, and you can see by the way they fiddle with the seat and air-vent controls that they’re excited. The weather is warm, muggy, but clear of the rainstorm that passed through recently. Right on time, the bus leaves, and out the window—
SOUTH KOREA – MEANWHILE
The city subtracts to thick forests, hillsides and farmlands. Rice and rice and corn and more rice and, in the background, maybe a little village with slanted rooftops or a factory with a smoking chimney. To Chris, this is all new: he notices the little differences (the abundance of agriculture, the intimidating lushness of the wilderness, the Muslim spires of İstanbul replaced with the Christian steeples of missionaries), and he’s especially infatuated with the way the mountains are reflected in the watery rice fields. For a while they take turns napping until—
TONGYEONG – A SHORT WHILE LATER
This coastal city is a known tourist stop and the big Tourist Map posted outside of the bus depot proclaims this with pride. They try to figure out where the ferry terminal is located and find it on the other side of town, too far to walk, and so after buying weekend supplies from the nearby E-Mart, they grab the nearest taxi. The driver is a friendly, inquisitive fellow who asks them about they’re camping trip plans and gives them a brief tour of the bustling area. Looks like a place that prospers off its intake of fish and strategic use of its massive shipping dock. The taxi driver gets them to—
THE FERRY TERMINAL – MINUTES LATER
But it’s too late. They’ve missed the ferry to Bijin Island by a few hours and, after a moment of discussion, decide that any island will do and so it’s Hansan Island instead, the ferry for which leaves in less than twenty minutes. The tickets are bought and they hurry out to—
THE FERRY – CONTINUOUS
Joined by cars on the lower level and a few dozen Koreans on the top level, the couple finds a spot on the bare floor in the corner, relieved to put their bags down for a while. This spacious place has the feel of a yoga studio room and the kids run around playing while the parents lay down to rest. Chris and Jenny take photos of the scattered islands in the peninsula, some half-hidden in the mist, all of them green and thriving and ripe for adventure. The ferry leads to—
HANSAN ISLAND – A FEW MINUTES LATER
The first thing they do is hop on the nearest bus, the driver of which explains that he’ll be able to take them to the beach that Jenny points to on the map. They board and take a seat. The bus fills up and takes off, following the curve of the island along a woodsy, shadowy street, and sometimes they catch glimpses of the sea to the left and its boats and barges and lighthouses. The driver lets them off at the bridge that connects Hansan Island to a smaller landmass where the beach is supposed to be, and when they get off the bus the Koreans giggle at the foreigners and Jenny says that’s normal. They head on across the bridge to—
CHUBONG ISLAND – CONTINUOUS
It’s remarkably peaceful here. Silence that Jenny calls “deep,” compared to the other isolated locales she’s found in South Korea. This is silence that no distant car horn or siren interrupts at regular intervals. You hardly hear a passenger plane passing through the stratosphere, and the jet fighters don’t have a need to come around these parts. The luggage is getting heavy. Our travellers are getting tired. They follow the road aimlessly to the right, hoping for a beach, and they pass a little harbor where old boats sway in the lapping waves, and for whatever reason there’s a boat designed to look like a big dolphin, and the locals give them curious glances as they pass. There are a bunch of pensions that visitors could rent and there’s a restaurant of some kind outside of which rests a happy pup on a leash. The sun is going down but they have at least two hours of sunlight left, and finally, beyond the boats, they come to—
BONGAM BEACH – MOMENTS LATER
A stony crescent of beachfront property rests snugly against the mellow sea, which splashes and drags against the stones to the pulse of the ocean’s heart, and before setting up camp the couple decides to investigate the wooded area nearby. Five seconds after unloading and setting up the tent, the locals come to tell them they can’t camp there, not so much because it’s against the rules but because of bugs, and sure enough Chris finds a big ol’ spider on the side of the tent as he carries it down to the beach. They set up camp on the rocks, knowingly unprepared to sleep on such a surface, but fuck it, they found a beach and it’s getting late, so whatever. The sun sets as they take a walk along the shore and a kindly stranger invites them to his house for beer, but they’re not feeling terribly social, so they decline and gather firewood and puzzle over the roach-like bugs that monitor the coast, then head back to camp to cook hotdogs for dinner. They drink makkoli and snack and stare at the sea and kiss and talk about the big and little things, and sometimes they’re not alone on the beach but most of the time they are. It’s nice. It’s very nice. The islands in the distance that were shrouded in mist now turn dark and you only know they’re there because of the handful of lights that blink along their coastlines as the night falls, and they watch the revolving beam of a lighthouse far, far away. It gets late and they get tired and they zip shut the doors of the tent and get comfortable on the makeshift mat of blankets and clothes they’ve laid out to protect against the stones, and they barely sleep at all but they’re somewhere new and they’re together, so it’s just fine. And in the morning they’re still at—
BONGAM BEACH – MORNING
Chris wakes up and Jenny is missing. He’s woken by the heat of the sun and seeks fresh air outside of the muggy tent, and he goes to look for Jenny and admire the dock in the sunlight. They find each other. They eat hotdogs for breakfast, then pack up the tent and get back on the road. This leads them to—
THE BUS STOP – A FEW MINUTES LATER
Back on the main island, they wait for a while at a bus stop near the Health Center, and Jenny goes to a restaurant to use the bathroom and Chris uses the exercise equipment to pass the time. A few busses pass and they don’t seem to be stopping. Jenny decides they should head into the little town and ask the police for help. So they carry their things, thankful that they’ve lightened the load a bit, and approach—
THE POLICE STATION – CONTINUOUS
Thanks to Jenny’s grasp of the Korean language, they’re able to get some information from the friendly (and probably bored) Officer Lee, who leads them outside and shows them where the busses will come, then points to his watch and says, “10 minutes,” and, not long afterward, points to the police station and says, “Copy?” It takes a moment for them to realize that he’s asking them if they want coffee. With nary an agenda to concern themselves with, they take the offer and return to the air-conditioned station, where they all drink a cup of sweet instant-coffee. Officer Lee has to talk with some lady in rapid-fire Korean for a while about a local dispute, so Jenny and Chris wait on the sofa. There’s a TV playing some tearjerker story about a handicapped woman with her seeing-eye dog, and she’s hugging the dog on the beach while some Dido song plays in the background. The woman leaves and Officer Lee and Jenny communicate as well as they can with both of them utilizing translators, and Jenny continues her habit of telling strangers that she and Chris are from Canada. He mentions something about a festival taking place today and asks us if we plan to attend. Behind one of the desks, a CCTV monitor shows the ferry terminal. Officer Lee tells them the bus will be back at 11, but he also says something about the patrol car (which had left as soon as Chris and Jenny showed up), and in the miscommunication it wasn’t made clear that Officer Lee had arranged for the patrol car to come pick them up and take them to the ferry. Talk about your small-town hospitality. But wait, it gets better. After hopping into the backseat, the couple is taken not directly to the ferry, but instead to—
THE YEOMGAE MUD FLAT FESTIVAL – A MINUTE LATER
These two other officers, after convincing them to leave our bags in the cruiser, escort them into the Mud Flat Festival, which is basically a bunch of folks coming out to dig up shellfish from the low-tide. They’d seen it from the backseat of the car: hundreds of locals and visitors, out there in the mud where the tide has slid away, digging away with shovels and buckets for juicy shellfish goodness in the muck. A band places live music that echoes across the peninsula, loud and happy and cheerful, and everyone is dirty and smiling. The police escort leads them along a line of vendors selling drinks and food and digging supplies, and the officers know EVERYONE, stopping here and there to shake hands with men in business suits or wearing staff badges. At the end of the tents, the officers bring Chris and Jenny to a table where enthusiastic Koreans feed them soup and seafood appetizers and makkoli and take their pictures and ask them questions and, though the lie might be pushing its luck, they continue to possess fake Canadian citizenship. The food is downright delicious: fresh, plentiful, and free. It feels like they’re being used as publicity points (“Look! Canadians at the Yeomgae Mud Flat Festival!”). About twenty minutes pass before the officers guide them back to the car, stopping here and there to greet a local, and then they take Chris and Jenny to—
THE FERRY TERMINAL – A FEW MINUTES LATER
It’s a short wait in the shade for the ferry, which glides in from the north and spins around to lower the ramp for the passengers and cars. The travellers find a seat on the top level where the wind feels good in the heat of the day and they marvel over the whirl of small-town charm that carried them from tent to ferry. The islands and lighthouses and barges are replaced with coastlines packed with buildings and giant shipping vessels resting like dinosaurs under dormant cranes. Then, they’re at—
TONGYEONG – JUST A SHORT WHILE LATER
Sunday afternoon, they have no need to rush back to Daegu, so on an aimless wander through the town, they grab some coffee ice-cream sticks and explore a fish market where the eels, octopi, and finned creatures are mostly still alive and splashing and fresh. In a bout of good fortune, a bus rumbles down the street they’ve stumbled across and the driver asks if they’re looking for the bus terminal. Why yes, yes they are, and so they hop on board and continue. An old woman helps Jenny make change for a 5000 won, and this, plus the kindliness of the driver, plus the whole experience on Hasan Island, has given Jenny a newfound appreciation for the impromptu hospitality of others. The bus takes them to—
THE BUS TERMINAL – A FEW MINUTES LATER
And they buy tickets for a bus to Daegu, a bus that leaves in less than ten minutes, so they hop on board and go to—
DAEGU – A SHORT WHILE LATER
They freshen up from the camping trip. During the trip downtown, they get adventure points for making quick friends with some other foreigners (from Tennessee) on the subway, who they’ll probably never see again. After this, they meander the youth-driven district of downtown Daegu where they first stop to eat hamburgers and play pool and get a drink at Travelers. Next, it’s a stopover at Buy The Book, a place Jenny’s been wanting to show Chris for some time, and they sell some books for store credit and try not to interrupt the viewing of some loud foreign war movie while they read through pages of other books for sale with lots of explosions and cries of pain blaring in the background. Last but not least, the weekend adventure is made complete by a visit to the coin Norebong, where they sing private karaoke versions of at least two dozen songs before ending the night with Wonderwall, because everyone knows all the words to Wonderwall.
