Beyond the end of the world (5 of 5)

Busan on the beach, across the bridge,
under the rain and... from the boat!

If our South Korean experiences were mostly rural, and the few cities we stopped by were "small" (in local criteria at least), getting off the train in Busan quite changed the deal: a jungle of concrete, skycrapers, neon signs and busy people. Probably too high, too big, too much for us; but we knew it and expected it. That's why we had decided beforehand to focus on the mountainous rural east side of the country, to skip insanely big Seoul and to spend in the second largest city only the exact amount of time needed to find, book and get on a ferry boat to Japan.

map of South Korea provided by G----e, showing our wanderings and bus-hoppings,
from arrival (Vladivostok, Russia) to departure (Osaka, Japan).

If the How long? was pretty clear from the beginning, our only doubt was the When exactly? As for this, our increasing rain-o-phobia added up to the imminent threat of an incoming typhoon: they made us somehow eager to change our precarious condition of hikers/campers (a travelers's equivalent of the prehistoric hunters/gatherers), only to seek for shelter and comfort at our Japanese friends' (would that make us farmers/breeders? or maybe woofers/helpxers?). As our desperate last-minute CS requests (even though educated, host-tailored and definitely non copy-pasted) failed to receive any compassionate positive answer, we soon started to assume CS was better an option for twenty-something single city-breaker millennials than for long-haul backpacking couples in their late thirties. Or had we missed something? Futuna kept brooding over some nostalgic clichés built on statements like: "Back then in 2006, couchsurfing was different", "Before the big website crash, the community was for real" or "Trust me, it actually worked when I was younger" and other "Now those kids just wanna hang out and party". Forever. But in the end (and to be fair, from the very beginning), it didn't matter a lot since we first set foot in Busan with a solid coin-locker option and the directions to a 3-star jimjilbang*. What else could you ask for? So far, our best answer to the #1 SKC "Where and how to sleep cheap and comfy in South Korea?" is still and without a doubt: forget about the local unicorn of the amazing free-campground by the beach and surrender to the slightly less romantic but way more real option of the jimgilbang and train station coin locker! Nothing can compare to that, not even the kitsch-est and freakiest Love Hotel with Nat King Cole himself smiling at the front desk (sure enough my weirdest fantasy). And, just to make things clear: no! WKW is not Korean and Cantonese cannot be spelled in Hangul!

the next morning, straight out of "bed" after an early spa session: discovering Busan's most iconic beach and skyline with coffee and pastries.

So, just like the dusty old book says: there was a night and there was a morning (that'd be a great opportunity to introduce another non-Korean, HK movie from another great and sadly not-so-famous director, with a beautiful "genesis" opening scene, that is: Time and Tide (2000) by Tsui Hark. Unfortunately, youtube doesn't seem to have that available for now). And it was the second day (in town). We had a breakfast of coffee with milk and local pastries about 100 meters away from the jimjilbang, right on Busan's most famous beach. From there, we explored the city a little bit, making sure not to use anything but a tourist map and our natural sense of orientation... Hum. Wandering around with no particular goal - and with no particular place to go - is often the best way to enjoy a new place, as long as you don't expect to randomly walk through the must-sees, main attractions or local Hard Rock Café - but who does dat?

a typical un-fancy restaurant: right by the suburban train tracks,
with great views to the sewage channel system!

After a little while following the coastline, trying to find a straight way to the ferry peer, we eventually passed by untraveled districts and neighbourhoods, got lost in narrow back alleys and un-touristy markets. We even (!!!) ate delicious stuff at some un-lonelyplaneted food shops: grilled, stir-fried or boiled, but always with kimchi on top. By the way, if there's one thing about South Korea we didn't emphasize enough in these columns, it's the food. We mentioned the (breakfast) time of our lives at Gyeongju's central market, we evoked our luxury and intimate Love Hotel dinner, and we sure failed to mention the lunchbox packed with gorgeous homemade food** forgotten next to us on a bench at some bus station somewhere. It gave us about the exact same amount of both pleasure and guilt, even several days after we finally decided to take it with us and eat it all, assuming its owner was already far away and was very unlikely to be a Park Chan Wook-style psychopath dropping poisoned gifts around (bim! another highly recommendable Asian movie, genuinely South Korean this time - Old Boy (2003) - even though a US version was released exactly ten years after, blame it on Spike Lee)… Where was I? Oh, yes: South Korean food! They have local gyoza, local udon and ramen, local sushi and sashimi, local pork curry, local dumplings and springrolls, local yakimeshi, local miso soup and (local) so on... In a word: local you-name-it-they-have-it. And they have it yummier than than you ever could imagine! Take the offer of local miso, for instance: it was disturbingly diverse and got us dazed and confused (no, this one is too easy, go look for it yourselves!) in the middle of a supermarket, wondering which ones we should try first, second and next. We also discovered some local nori seaweeds: same same but... different from the Japanese ones: crispier, saltier, sometimes even smoked, they are eaten as snacks or broken into crumbs and used as furikake on top of food.

miso paste meets the American way of life: one for each day of the… year?

We packed a couple of family-size pouches trusting they'd make it back home. But they hardly made it passed the ferry to Japan and the last ones ended at our first Japanese guest in Tokyo, who not only knew them already, but also already knew where to buy them in his neighbourhood. Anyway, Tokyo is another story and it'll be for later! Alright. After this little food interlude, let's get back to our un-visit of Busan: big blocks, dirty channels, slow buses, high bridges, rusty train tracks and neon-lit churches. Many many many churches. Churches everywhere. Did we mention already that, when asked about their religious beliefs in a national, public survey from 2012, about 30% of South Koreans declared being buddhists, another 30% declared being atheists and the last 30% confessed a christian confession? Mental-link this with the consequent amount of pilgrims from South Korea we met (and sometimes saved***) on the Camino de Santiago while working in French basque country in winter time... Amazing, isn't it? Well, we sure saw more crosses, churches, buddhist temples and stupas around than atheist temples. But because you can't see them doesn't mean they don't exist. Or maybe it does, actually? God only knows… Ha ha. Enough fun facts and food for today, too much fun can be hazardous. Let's get back to the point.

random street findings: the original red hot chili peppers ; fresh aloe vera for lunch ; roasty-tasty un-vegan food ; crossing a very picturesque bridge!

We went to the central train station and from there to the ferry terminal so as to check our options: we could easily get to Fukuoka in about 4-5 hours, several times daily, either on speed boats or regular ferries. Unfortunately, our local contact in Fukuoka wouldn't answer our desperate calls and emails, and no CSer seemed to be willing to meet and host us, not even for a night. The weather forecast was also as bad there as it was here, so we were moderately motivated by the camping option. The other one was to get on a slow boat to Osaka: it was an overnight, every-other-day journey on an older ship and it was called by the company itself a "ferry/cruise". The / is important! Slightly more expensive than the Busan-to-Fukuoka speed boat, the experience of a "ferry/cruise" on a rusty old boat packed with retired Koreans made us dream and shiver! After looking at each other for about a second, we took a decision: we'd pay for the 3rd class cabin (on the lowest deck and without a window), we'd live life to the fullest, we'd ride the love boat reloaded, we'd never be the same again, etc. And so we did...

introducing Busan's greatest ecolo-scam: the sensorless green-scalators!

With our heads full of expectations, dreams and hopes, and with almost 24 extra hours to spend in Busan, we went back to the train station for a postcard marathon: find some postcards! now find some stamps! now find a letterbox! We engaged in the noble task of saving the world - walking some green steps over and over again. It was strange, though, to witness the escalators had no sensor and worked full-time, regardless of whether there actually were people on them or not. So, we thought: if we DON'T use them, they not only use energy and have a specific carbon footprint, but WE also DO breathe more and sweat more, consequently producing more carbon dioxide than if we were just standing still on the escalators that would be working anyway. A paradoxical way to make a (green) point, right? We then found a doppelganger of Maggie Cheung, WKW's muse, lost on another green-scalator. We mentally replayed an alternate take of the noodle soup scene: in the mood for ramen? Yes, please! Of course! Gimme all your ramen! (nothing against Led Zep' nor ZZ Top, indeed. But you'll have to look for this tune on your own too: by now Yumeji's theme is far from being over and it'd be a crime to switch it for a trio of bearded Texan freaks. Seriously? ZZ Top? You must be kidding…). Right opposite the central station was a big market, the "typical" street with high glass ceilings to give shelter to a crowd of busy customers. Very common in Japan and apparently very common here too. Don't tell anyone, but the similarities between the two neighbours, even though they live back to back, keep striking and fascinating us!

WKW style: the stairs, the heels, the dress, and the soup can.

For our last night in town and in the country, we treated ourselves with an almost-all-you-can-eat barbecue restaurant. We ordered some meat but couldn't find any side dish. It took us a while to understand that, to make it short, once you had paid for the meat, everything else was free on a buffet basis: soup, veggies, salad, sauces and... kimchi! After seeing people at the tables around refilling plates and plates and plates forever with green stuff to put on their own little barbecue, we finally dared to do the same and had a great dinner! Nomehoudai forever!

Since this story wouldn't be an actual un(t)raveling story without a little bit of rain, we got soaked - at last! - by the long-announced typhoon while walking back, late at night, to the jimjilbang. It was not a big deal that time, since we only carried our clothes and a tiny daypack with us. And since the place we were headed to was little more than a giant bathroom… Oh! The magnificent art of bathing! After a warm and quiet night, we woke up early to get some more sauna and hot baths, then started the final marathon: to the train station for our "main" backpacks and to the ferry terminal for our "ferry/cruise" - all this, needless to say, under an end-of-the-world chilly and pouring rain! We got back to the ferry terminal wet and early. We tried to get some stuff dry (let's say dryer), looked for some wi-fi, ate some nori snacks and even found the time to argue a little bit about irrelevant things (it may happen when you're soaking wet, tired, hungry or all at once). And suddenly, it was time to spend our very last wons on the port tax, to show our tickets, to get a fancy stamp on our passports and to get onboard the very much expected "ferry/cruise". Our time frame: an overnight ride ; our weather conditions: a typhoon approaching ; our destination: Osaka, Japan! This should be our next adventure (if the ferry takes us safely to the other side - and we know it will, since this post was written in and sent back from about a week in the future!) but we wanted to make sure we'd leave you with just a little appetizer of the most incredibly kitsch, rock'n'roll and stormy croisière (s'amuse) ever!

typhoon approaching with our rusty old ferry boat (the one on the left) ; indeed: a giant balloon palm tree and a welcome piano recital, unbelievable!

Et voilà! We can't wait to share this next adventure and many others, so stay tuned and see you all soon! Now sing with us: Looooove, exciting and new... Come aboard, we're expecting youuuu! Allez, à bientôt...

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* About the 3* jimjilbang: although taking pictures inside the premises is absolutely prohibited, we discovered afterwards that some anonymous fingers randomly and inadvertedly clicked on the tactile screen of our smartphone, thus shooting a couple of times inside the main sleeping area. Fortunately, though, nobody can be identified but a sleeping Futuna...

** As for the abandoned lunchbox: we spent over an hour sitting right next to it, wondering wether to take it or not. Nobody came for it, we didn't know when it was forgotten and by who. Then just before getting on our bus: we imagined a mother had cooked it and packed it with great care and love ; we reckoned nobody would ever pick it up amidst the busy bus terminal ; we assumed it would be thrown away by the cleaning squad sooner or later ; we decided the best thing was to take it and eat it, just to honour the person who prepared it... And that's exactly what we did. Nevertheless, several days after the tupperwares were empty and licked clean, we still felt bad and guilty!

*** We need to check whether the story of the South Korean pilgrims lost in the snow and saved (technically: hitch-hiked to Pamplona) by Futuna has been told already in some of the Basque country tales and stories, or if we should put it on the to-tell list.

**** Was there actually a fourth footnote? Well, probably not...

exclusive Wallisleaks: night time after the last hot bath ; dawn time before the first hot bath ; the lunchbox that caused all the trouble.

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20 cents per kilo

Our special section (hashtag 20 francs le kilo) for the accounting fans, the (tight) budget-stressed and those who would feel curious about - or attracted by - a plane-less journey. They'll find here and in this order: the truth, all the truth and nothing but the truth (rounded to the euro and with some minor memory lapses, possibly). But on the whole, this is what it costed us :

 - Our 2 days and 2 nights in Busan: 11 euros access fee for the Jimjilbang ; the noodle soups and tea bags account for a total amount of 12 euros per pax per night. To be fair, we have to add some 8 euros for the coin lockers and around 15 euros in bus and subway tickets. 35 euros

 - BBQ restaurant and breakfasts: 40 euros. Other food: 8 euros. Postcards and stamps: 12 euros.Total: 60 euros.

Overall total in Busan: about 90 euros for the two of us.

y una pa' quitarse la gorra (frigia)!

No es que escalemos tanto como para repetir vías (cuando se nos hace cada más larga la lista de las que-tenemos-pendientes-pero-hace-falta-volver-a-entrenar-un-poco-antes-porque-así-como-así-pues-no...), pero al venir de una buena temporada sin tocar roca, en baja forma y estrenando el exótico formato de la cordada de tres con nuestro querido G. (además de no escalar regularmente, iba a ser su primera vía larga, llevábamos tiempo con esta asignatura pendiente y la idea era darle ganas de repetir, con nosotros, con otr@s y de escalar más a menudo en general)…

Empezando por el final: el segundo rapel de bajada.

…pues eso: vistas las circunstancias y queriendo pasarlo bien, todos, elegimos ir al Gorro frigi de Montserrat y hacer la vía del Carles (155m, V+ y eso que de V+ tiene un tramo de 4-5 metros: es bien vertical con un paso de flanqueo para alcanzar la linea de subida a la reunión pero no faltan presas está protegido generosamente y el resto de la vía es de IV-IV+ en placa tumbada siempre bien tumbada!). Es una vía muy fácil y muy agradable, con mucha presa pero siempre divertida, con buena exposición y muy buena roca, con vistas preciosas al monasterio, al valle del Llobregat y al sector de Sant Benet (luego desde arriba a todo el interior de Montserrat). Con ambiente y "exageradamente" bien equipada (digo en comparación con lo que la cultura local suele predicar), es una vía en la que nada puede salir mal! Menos si te equivocas de pie de vía y buscas el primero barabolt verde a la izquierda de una cruz ausente porque estas al pie, digamos, de la Gorra marinera! Teníamos como excusa en las mochilas un generoso madrugón, un desayuno hipotecado por el abre tardío del café de la plaza del Abad Oliva y muy pocas horas de sueño tanto los unos como el otro, ya que nos encontramos tarde para cenar y dormir cerca del coche. Si hay que madrugar, mejor hacerlo juntos y ahorrarnos 30 minutos de traslado a pata y metro con material, cuerdas y todo… En fin, apagamos luces pasadas las 12 y media, lo que es bastante razonable visto lo visto y sabiendo de que somos capaces cuando nos re-encontramos. Empecemos por allí:

06:30 - Rrrrrrrring. Suena en el despertador una especie de melodía que evoca la canción de un ukelele tocado desde una hamaca tendida entre dos cocoteros en una playa de Hawaï. Es tremendamente cautivador. Espero que el genio que la compusó se haya hecho muy rico. Se lo merece: salir de la cama nunca había sido tan fácil. En nada de tiempo, Wallis, Futuna y G. - lamémosle Willy Fog de aquí en adelante, será más gracioso - están vestidos, casse-croûte empacado y mochilas a las respectivas espaldas, listos para el terrorífico:

introducing: Wallis, Futuna y Willy Fog… natures!

06:55 - Selfie del ascensor. Poco más que añadir, la imagen habla por si sola. "No te preocupes Willy Fog, no tomamos ni el café en casa, salimos así y hacemos café con leche-croissant en el bar de Montserrat, tranquilos". Parking, coche, RAC105, ronda de Dalt, A2, Money for nothing (la versión live aquella que pasan 10 veces cada día), Monistrol y Willy Fog "no será mejor para aquí que hay un bar abierto y desayunamos antes de subir?" Futuna "noooo" Willy Fog "noooo?" Futuna "naaaaaaaa" Willy Fog "but there's a bar right here" Futuna "but there's one right there as well" etc. * Al final, ignorando el pájaro en mano no paramos, atacamos la subida hasta el monasterio y descubrimos la preciosa cara Este toda arropada en su deshabillé de soie matutino (okay, ya basta, enough, perdón, no lo haré más)…

Carretera perdida y deshabillé de soie (re-perdón) ; mar de nubes y contraluz ; cuatro gorros en su entorno natural.

07:45 - El parque temático. Llegamos a la entrada del aparquetemámiento y tras haber recogido un ticket y constatado que la burbuja montserratense no parece tener fondo ni limites, aparcamos bien bien arriba, sorprendidos de la poca gente que encontramos. Sol precioso y mar de nubes desde los miradores, Monasterio tranquilo por no decir desierto y, al fondo de todo, los Gorros bien alineados: la Marinera, las Magdalenas inferior y superior y bien a la derecha del grupo, con su nariz y su cruz cimera (la quinta y última reunión), la Gorra frigia! Momento fotos, luz bonita, partículas de magia aleteando a por doquier, pre-inicio off the record pero no menos real del Camino de Santiago para nuestro valiente Willy Fog y finalmente, llegada a la plaza del Abad Oliva para encontrar el:

le Willy Fog, alineado.

07:55 - Bar cerrado. No pasa nada! Hay aquí la esquina una máquina de café que hace unos cortados y unos capuccinos deshidratados de maravilla… Con eso, dos plátanos y algo de pan y salsichón, estamos listos para arrancar. Dos chicos con mochilas, cuerdas y cascos están esperando a su tercio de naranja mientras empezamos a subir.

08:30 - Paso de los Franceses. Nos pilla la campana de y media en la subida de la canal que va hacia el Pla dels Ocells. Seguimos subiendo hasta pasado el desvío de Sant Benet y a las ruinas bajamos hasta cruzar la canal y subir al camino de Sant Joan a Sant Geroni que pasa abajo de las Gorras y donde está el pie de la mayoría de las vías.

09:05 - Pie de la vía del Carles. Pasando cuerdas y preparándonos al pie (?) de la vía (??) - y eso a pesar de la omnipresente ausencia de la cruz oxidada a unos diez metros del suelo y de un "parabolt verde evidente" a media altura, un poco a la izquierda. Por suerte, la cordada-naranja al completo que habíamos enviado a la izquierda de "nuestra" gorra frigia hacia la magdalena inferior volvió a los pocos minutos para confirmar lo que nos negábamos a reconocer: estábamos a punto de salir por no-se-sabe-qué-vía-fácil de la marinera! Con las ganas de escalar nos saltamos unos cien metros de GR. Y eso que repetíamos vía, después de haber hecho 5 o 6 ya entre la Magdalena superior y la Gorra frigia. Por primera vez, Futuna no se inventó ningún atajo de jabalí gateando entre los arbustos y - por primera vez - nos equivocamos de meta…Grin (como dicen por allí).

09:20 - Pie de la vía del Carles. Esta vez sí, sin duda: una cruz oxidada y una linea de parabolts verdes que parecía la de las migas de pan bimbo de la capelucita durmiente de Copenhagen. Yo me dije chaval, te estás adormeciendo**. Luego todo pasó de repente:

Desde la R1, Wallis y Willy a punto de empezar ; en el segundo largo ; el patio desde la R3 ; Wil' y Wal' en la R4.

09:45 - R1. Largo fácil y agradable, sube recto, 35m. 10:15 - R2. Largo fácil y agradable, sube recto, 35m. 10:55 - R3. Largo corto y agradable, sube recto (menos el paso lateral y corto tramo vertical sobre buenas presas que sale en seguida a la reunión), 20m. 11:30 - R4. Largo fácil y agradable, sube recto, 35m. Y finalmente:

11:55 - En la cima. Atados de la cruz, literalmente, ya que la R5 se hace allí. Largo muy fácil que va siguiendo el lado izquierdo de la nariz, evidente, con un pasito para subirse a la narina y unos metros cada vez más tumbado hasta alcanzar la cruz, sentarse y quitarse los pies de gato con gusto (30 o 35m).

Dis-frutando en la cima, del aire, del sol, de la vista.

Ya era hora de llegar, porque nuestro Willy Fog preferido - que no llevaba agua a pesar de haber invertido el día anterior en una rutilante (como el caballo del Quijote? Nooo, rutilante como un unicornio!) cantimplora metálica que se dejó en casa - empezaba a sufrir de deshidratación y nuestro litro donde-hay-para-dos-hay-para-tres no nos iba a pesar mucho en los rápeles ni en la bajada… Melocotón y último plátano, solete y brisa fresca, increíble panorama a 360º: desde el Cadí hasta Mallorca! desde las islas Medes hasta el Posets! Mentira podrida, aunque sí, se veían muy bien el Cavall Bernat, el Montgros, los Ecos y Sant Geroni, donde los primeros turistas ya se acercaban al precipicio, visiblemente ignorantes del viejo truco de Bendetti para no sucumbir a la tentación....

Wallis pensando en las mugsaraleñas...

12:30 - Hora de bajar. En dos rápels por la cara sur, pasando por el antiguo camino "equipado" (y ahora des-equipado) de la vía normal. Creo que el verdadero rápel de bajada pasa ahora un poco más a la derecha, más directo y más lógico, sobre todo porque sospecho que con cuerdas de 60, se llega de un tirón. Pero ojo! No lo sé ni lo averigué: por la mandra de ir a verlo y buscar una reunión sin saber donde, prefiero hacer la bajada de la antigua normal… Por las dudas. En fin, llegamos bien en dos tiradas separadas por un tramo de camino empinado pero fácil entre árboles. Desde el cuello, se baja por la canal que separa Gorra frigia y Magdalena superior hasta recuperar el GR y volver hacia Sant Joan. Decidimos bajar dando la vuelta por Sant Miquel y el camping, un poco más largo pero de buen camino (asfaltado y transitado), disfrutando de las vistas y soñando con agua con gas o clara de limón.

13:30 - Elefante, Momia, Puig i Cadafalch y Subirachs. Las vueltas a la realidad y al monasterio se hicieron (se dan?) sin esfuerzo. Fue agradable charlar y mirar las procesiones de cruceristas con flip-flops y riñonera (y de familias con abuelos y perro) que iban subiendo a la peor hora, sin agua ni sombrero hacia un desierto de conglomerado, romero y boj. Pasamos el camping y la estatua de Pau Casals, y cuando sonaban las...

14:00 - Estábamos de vuelta. Ordenamos el material y doblamos bien las cuerdas en al sombra delante de la estación del Cremallera, mientras Willy Fog entraba a saludar a la Moreneta, a que le regalará su protección en el Camino. El warming-up fue light y enjoyable, la experiencia parecía concluyente y el futuro lleno de promesas ; el resto de la aventura, os lo contará él!

Elefante y Momia: el duo dinámico de Sant Benet ; la llegada al templo: sus gentes y sus mercantes.

15:00 - En una famosa terraza de Monistrol. Una ronda y unas anchoas del Cantábrico más tarde. Están las baterías cargadas para volver a casa y empezar el fin de semana. Mientras escribimos estas líneas desde nuestra querida madriguera ariégeoise (donde nos esperaban tomates, remolachas, col lombarda y ¿como no? unos cuantos calabacines gigantes), Willy Fog está en algún lugar entre Castilla-y-León y Galicia, con su mochila, su concha y - esperemos que sí esta vez - con su rutilante (como el caballo del Quijote? Nooo, rutilante como un unicornio!) cantimplora metálica… ¡Que lo disfrutes mucho, caminante, que como bien dicen: el camino se hace...!

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* una postal exclusiva Un(t)raveling en su sobre exclusivo Un(t)raveling a quién reconozca y le de el homenaje al dueño del original de está conversación.. entre dos tucanes!

** quién reconozca esta canción no recibirá nada, sino el placer de buscársela en youtube para re-escucharla. Las postales exclusivas Un(t)raveling, hay que ganárselas!