Chasing the Easter Sun: An Experiment in Public Transportation, Part One

This weekend I experimented with Korea's public transportation system and almost did something that you can't do in the United States without an airplane and something that will most surely earn me the grand prize of dorkiness. I watched the sun set (almost) on the west coast, rise again on the east coast, and set once again (almost) on the west coast.

It all started when I decided that in the absence of a church, I wanted to watch the sun rise on Easter morning. I talked to Joy and Chloe, and they suggested that I go to the East Sea (known in the rest of the world as the Sea of Japan), so on Friday, Joy helped me book train tickets online. The plan was for me to take an overnight train from Seoul on Saturday night, arriving in the east coast town of Jeongdongjin just before sunrise on Easter Sunday morning. Then I would return on the afternoon train, arriving back in Seoul Sunday night. I liked this plan, especially since watching the sun rise over the East Sea is a relatively popular thing to do among Koreans.

Saturday morning I needed to get caught up from my long week at the school, so I slept in, met Joy for an early lunch, and then headed over to the school to finish progress reports. I had made good progress by late afternoon, so I decided to head into Seoul early and take a detour through Yeouido, the island in the Han River that is a media, financial, and governmental district. It's also the home of some of Seoul's most spectacular cherry blossoms. It's peak season now, and the trees made for a wonderful display. It reminded me of living in northern Virginia and made me a little sad for my family and friends who are so very far away. I wasn't alone in my admiration of the flower-adorned trees. The streets and narrow sidewalks were so packed that the best one could do was inch along with the crowd.I was very pleased with myself when I noticed the sun not-quite-setting over the Korean National Assembly building, with some delicate cherry blossoms in the foreground. It took me a couple tries, and I had to come to a dead stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk to get this picture, much to the annoyance of everyone else trying to walk along, but I'm pleased with the result. While taking this shot I realized that I would be seeing the same sun again in about 12 hours on the other side of the country.I still had a few hours before my train to the east coast, so I continued walking along Yeouido for a while. There were several vendors selling snack food, including the Korean favorites, small snail-like things and beondeggi--boiled silk worms. As I've well documented here, I love Korean food, but no matter how open-minded I try to be, I can't quite accept silk worms as food. Not only do they look and taste horrible, but you can smell them from several yards away. To be fair, I have tried them, but it was not an experience that I ever need to repeat. The snails aren't that bad, but since they're almost always sold at the same places as beondeggi, they're on my "no thanks" list by association.When I had had enough of the crowd at Yeouido, I walked across a bridge to the other side of the Han River. I saw these traffic signs as I was walking, and they confirmed for me that I should stick to public transportation and never drive in Korea. Now, I've gained a lot of confidence since flunking my learner's permit test at sixteen, and I'd say I know the rules of the road pretty well, but these signs have me stumped. What are they saying? If you drive into the river, don't play a bugle? Despite the confusing traffic signs, I thought the bridge was pretty cool, and it was a pleasant walk across it in the early evening.
From the other side of the bridge, I took a bus to my favorite jjimjilbang (public bathhouse) since I still had a few hours before I needed to be at the train station. I had an excellent dinner of dolsot albap (fish eggs, rice, and veggies in a hot stone bowl), one of my favorite Korean dishes, along with kimchi, of course. Yum! Then I soaked in the tubs.

I left the jjimjilbang at 9:30 and took the subway to Seoul's Cheongnyangni Station where I caught a 10:40 PM train. By then, it was pitch dark outside, so even though I had a window seat, the only things I could see on the trip east were lights from the towns we passed along the way. After the first hour and a half of the trip, the seat next to me was vacant, so I curled up across the two seats and slept intermittently, waking up briefly to check my watch, press my face against the window, trying in vain to see something, and reposition myself before dozing off again.

To be continued . . .