Roaming Among Relics in Mt. Namsan

The plan was to spend the day hiking in Mt. Namsan, a virtual open-air museum of ancient relics strewn through the mountains bordering Gyeongju to the south. I'm a lover of nature and while not necessarily big on walking through carefully-displayed artifacts behind heavily protected museum walls, I was fascinated with the idea of combining a day of hiking with the discovery of some Silla period pieces of history.

As I rounded the stairwell towards the front door, Mr. Kwon caught me. "Where you going today?" he said, in his cheerful, heavy Korean accent. I shared with him my plan.
"You walk, don't take bus," he told me, more of a direct order than a helpful suggestion. "Walking, not far. I walk Namsan all the time. You take bus, two hour, maybe three hour," his hands making a snaking motion to hit the point home. He gave me some basic directions -- walk to the main traffic circle, take a right, walk straight for quite a ways. I figured that was enough to get me started. I wasn't in any hurry, I had carved out the entire day for exploring Namsan. So I set off on foot.

Half an hour later, already drenched with sweat from the burning sun, a sprightly older man, heading my direction on his bicycle, stopped to surmise where I could possibly be walking all by myself. "Namsan," I told him, which brought an immediate look of concern. He pointed at his bicycle, as if to say I was going to need one if I was planning to get myself all the way to Namsan, and then continued in a stream of Korean chatter. I hadn't realized how intent he was on helping me out until a few minutes later when, armed with a very ambiguous mental map of where it was I'd find the next bus, he walked me across the street and waved me on in a different direction.

I'd like to credit my keen sense of direction for finding the bus stop, but I think it had something more to do with good fortune that I managed to maneuver myself through a hodgepodge of mud-baked walls and a century-old Korean neighborhood before finally turning down the street that led to a bus stop. But either way, I soon found myself en route to Samneung, entrance point to Namsan's hiking trails.

As luck would have it, within an hour of setting off on the trail, I had managed to connect with Noemi, the Belgian actress I had met at the Hanjin roof party. And a short time later, the two of us crossed paths with Kevin and Katie, who had decided to spend their last day in Gyeongju hiking as well. Being that Namsan was no small walk in the park, I found it incredible that all of us would happen to meet on the trails. Is there such a thing as coincidence?

We climbed up to Sangseonam, a Buddhist hermitage, and cooled ourselves with refreshing swallows of fresh mountain water from an adjacent spigot. Colorful paper lanterns swayed ever so slightly in the subtle breeze, and the peaceful stillness of the place gave each of us a temporary respite from our hiking rigors.

At Sangseonam, Noemi and I parted ways with Kevin and Katie, who had to head back to the bus station for their onward connections. But it turned out to be the best of all possible scenarios that Noemi and I had met, as I doubt seriously that I would have managed to make the journey up and over the ridge of Namsan mountain, and down again to Yongjang village, on the other side of the mountain... at least, in one piece.

Together, we hoisted ourselves up gigantic rocks, and lowered ourselves down steep inclines with the use of thick ropes. We cut through a thick, dark bamboo forest and rested our feet in the cool water of a gurgling stream. Here and there, we came upon ancient figures carved in the rock face of the mountain, a crumbling pagoda standing erect against a backdrop of mountains, a beheaded statue commanding a reverent pause.

The entire adventure lasted about six hours before we descended into Yongjang village. From there, we managed to find a bus that brought us back to Gyeongju proper. Our bodies were tired, leg muscles exhausted, stomachs gurgling from emptiness, but the journey had been a memorable one. And having someone to share the experience with made it even more of a pleasure.

Back at the hostel, Noemi prepared for her departure to Busan, and I headed off to the showers. Before long, I had fallen asleep under the open pages of my guidebook. And aside from a middle-of-the-night awakening when Mr. Kwon opened my door to check that I was in (he locks up the hostel each night), I slept right through until the following morning, oblivious to the continuation of the backpacker party on the roof just a flight of stairs above me. Sometimes a girl just needs her rest.