Dalmaji Hill

Friday, 9:20 a.m. The Korea Train eXpress (KTX) bound for Busan pulled out of the Seoul Railway Station. Being a traveler by trade, I’d been on all kinds of high speed trains, including the TGV, the ICE, and the Shinkansen; “300 km/h” was nothing to raise my eyebrows at. So why did I insist on riding the KTX when I had no real reason for going to Busan? It was curiosity: I wanted to experience the chasm that divided my childhood days, tinted with the memories of my first train ride, from the current age of the high-speed train.

There were many things that enchanted me about trains as a young child: the subtlety of their smooth, almost furtive start; the delicious illusion that made it seem as if the train I was on was moving, when it was in fact the one on the adjacent track that moved; the endearing sound of the rails and wheels, drumming my ears in a steady, musical rhythm; the rare and special treat of being able to eat hard-boiled eggs, coke, and kimbap (Korean version of Nori Maki) to my heart’s content…

And now I’ve experienced two train rides on opposite ends of 30 years of history. How was it this time around? Well… I may be overly biased. Still, one thing remained the same and it helped me soothe some of my futile nostalgia and my deep longing: the smooth, gliding start, as if the train were running on ice cream instead of steel. The old optical illusion induced by the adjoining train’s movement, the rhythmical chugging, the “gourmet” delights—these are relics that have disappeared beyond the far side of the high-speed experience.

○ 2 Hrs 50 Mins from Seoul to Busan on the KTX

Just 2 hours and 50 minutes after leaving Seoul, the KTX train arrived at Busan Railway Station. Used to the 4 hours and 50 minutes it took the Sae Maul Train to cover that distance, I couldn’t quite believe that I was actually there. There was a sense of incompleteness, even. Naturally, boredom was out of the question on such a swift journey. And to think the trip may become even shorter when a high-speed track is laid down between East Daegu and Busan…!

I proceeded to the subway stop in front of the station square. I touched my wallet, containing my credit card, to the exit. The door remained shut. I hadn’t realized that credit cards were not accepted on the subway here. That brought it home to me: I was indeed in Busan. Arriving at Hae Woon Dae after 45 minutes, I looked for the wide blue sea that I’d seen on TV. It was hidden behind a busy street filled with high rises. An urban seashore.

The blue water, the beige sand, and the green Dong Baek Island. I wouldn’t have sought out this sea if it hadn’t been for the high-speed train. Seen with my own eyes, it wasn’t the uninviting, irritating tourist trap teeming with midsummer crowds that I’d encountered on the news.

The beach was neat and clean, the atmosphere quiet and still. People casually strolled the shores, some walking arm in arm or accompanied by a dog. Even the high-rise buildings and apartment complexes lining the beach were devoid of any unsightly disorderliness. The pathway connecting the mainland with Dong Baek Island was barred from traffic, and had become a charming esplanade.

The Westin Chosun Beach Hotel stood on the Hae Woon Dae sands, near the entrance to the island. When I opened the curtains of my room, my view was instantly filled with the sky and the sea, and the curves of Dalmaji Hill (“Dalmaji” means “to greet the moon”). The scene seemed oddly familiar… Of course! It resembled Monte Carlo, where I had stopped on the way to Cannes, France during a train ride from Italy’s Genova past Sen Remo, skirting the Mediterranean shore. The Hae Woon Dae beach vied with Nice and Cannes in picturesqueness. In fact, it even surpassed them in some ways.

○ The Quiet and Solitude of the Dong Baek Island Trail

Leaving for Songjeong Beach in a rental car, I passed through Dalmaji Hill. At the end of a winding uphill road of no less than 15 turns, I mounted a pavilion dubbed “Hae Weol” (or “Sea and Moon”). From its vantage point, one could take in not only Hae Woon Dae, Dong Baek Island, and the Kwang An Bridge beyond, but also the sunrise and sunset as well. With the evening hues coloring the skies over Kwang An Bridge at my back, I descended toward Songjeong.

Dae Byeon Port by night. This place is famed for its anchovies and hairtails. Anchovy fishing had already begun in late March, and now the port area was bustling even during the late-night hours. Along the quay, fishermen stood in a row before their night-light-illumined boats, working hard at disentangling the anchovies from the nets. The active, rowdy scene on the brightly-lit piers charmed and delighted the visitor.

5:30 a.m. the next day, the crimson sun soared over Dalmaji Hill. I find myself amazed at the luxury of enjoying a Hae Woon Dae sunrise on my hotel bed. The joy of this rare and unexpected gift rises to the level of inspiration. The beach at the crack of dawn is ideal for walking. The exhilarating sea wind and the winsome sound of the waves bring a smile to my lips. Breathing in the clean, fresh air down to the depths of my lungs, I feel as if all the dirt and grime of the city were being cleansed in one sweep. I hope that I might enjoy such a refreshing weekend just once in every year to come…

Seung-Ha Cho summer@donga.com