The next day we bounced over to the art district. This place is amazing. The streets are filled with hipster cafes and traditional Korean homes, Hanoks, that double as private galleries and stores. You can find any kind of artwork here, from painting to sculpture, traditional to post-modern, graffiti to jewellery, pottery to cappuccino art, there’s literally something new around every corner. We made our way over the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, paid our way in and spent our time viewing and not comprehending the artwork. After what seemed like an eternity of brain farting, think Willy Wonka’s LSD water cave, we needed to chill. Luckily the museum has an awesome free library attached and we sat down and read the things that were in English, which is actually most of it.

The Koreans have the best grasp of English that we’d encountered on the whole trip, some might say better than Australians, actually definitely better than Aussies. You could quite literally ask anyone on the street for directions or aid and they’d answer in perfect English. Friendly faces would talk to you on the train and ask you what your favourite part of Seoul was and suggest other places to see. There was a moment when we were walking home one evening and we found a man collapsed on the road, I went over to help and when he came to and saw my face he said in perfect english, “Thank you very much, I’m okay now, you can leave me alone. How much money do you want?” I replied in the negative and seeing the ambulance screeching up the road we left the scene.

We spent a day exploring one of the palaces, I forget which one, the one with the 700 year old tree that has to be stilted up like an old man with a walking frame. It was a weekday but it was busy, the Koreans love to explore their own city and heritage. They also love to dress up in traditional garb and pretend they’re from the period. We paid a bit extra to enter the forbidden garden and slowly made our way through the complex. Most of the palace has been restored and is fairly new, there’s only one building that has the original turquoise tiles on its roof. Sadly, every other building has burned down over the years.

Tempers rose towards lunch-time, they always do, and we hurried to defuse the situation by getting food. I swear most arguments can be avoided with a good feed, which Seoul is more than happy to provide. So we went to Subway. What a cop out. Richelle cared, but I didn't. We were running short on cash, it was the cheapest vegetarian food we could find. 

We’d heard about a lantern festival taking place in the causeway near our hostel, so that evening we headed down to see what we could see. Little did we know the lanterns were placed 3 km up the other end of the refurbished canal and after half an hour of walking we were worried that we’d frozen our butts off for nothing. Finally, I glimpsed a yellow blob on the horizon and we almost ran as we made it to the first lantern.

It was amazing. There were lanterns for everything, from traditional Chinese characters to the Duracell bunny riding a train, which I assume he was powering? Except it was an old coal train… what are you trying to tell us Duracell? And finally capitulating in a light show and a collection of lanterns advertising the upcoming winter olympics in South Korea. We then lost a good half an hour watching the Caricaturists work their magic, an old couple being the centre of attention.

Knowing we had a huge walk home and now feeling numb we sprinted most of the way, although it didn’t feel anywhere near as long as getting there. It’s funny how the journey back is always quicker, like the unknown creates a sense of a vast void before us, but once known is nothing more than a comparatively small gap. God, we’re weird.

There was another palace on the other side of town that also needed exploring. Richelle and I quickly got separated as I sat and watched a man drawing the scene. I find myself sitting and being captivated more easily these days. In the “real world” things tend to rush you by and appear as a blur, but when you’re travelling you get to take your time and see the things you wouldn’t usually see or look out for. What’s really interesting though, is once you stop to take your time and stare at a piece of space, other people will notice you doing this and join you. The anomaly of you doing nothing is enough to tear them off the speeding travelator.

So, Richelle and I were separated. Accepting my fate I dawdled around the grounds. Finally I logged into one of Seouls thousands of free wifi networks and we were able to find each other at the entrance. Unfortunately, I’d missed out on the changing of the guards. But Richelle got to see it and said it was, “loud”. Afterwards we headed to the National Museum of Korea.

The National Museum of Korea is awesome. Standing three storeys, it is a goliath. From the neolithic to modern day you can see Korea’s entire history. So we did. After three hours of reading and digesting I don’t think I’ve ever felt so mentally drained before. But the exhibits are just so well curated that it’s hard to stop as you dig your brain-teeth into the veritable mind-feast.

Collapsing onto the stairs out the front we planned our next move. Left leg or right leg first? There was a district not to far away called Hongdae, where I’d read about an institution called Book Sae Tong Comics. I couldn’t find it on Google but I found some directions and an address and so we headed in that general direction and there she was. A great underground sanctuary for all comic book nerds. Because everything was in Korean we didn’t spend a heap of time here. So we then made our way up the street to a street market where we bought Megacinos, giant cappuccinos in giant cups. Buzzed off our heads we found the famous street performers. The street literally has act after act lined up next to each other performing magic, singing or hip hop dancing. Crowds pack tightly to see these literal backstreet boys do their thing.

For our final day we’d planned something special. A day hike up the highest peak of Seoul, Bukhansan. Koreans take their hiking seriously, and we were soon privy to their seriousness when we got off the train and saw the giant line of overly-equipped hikers lining up for the bus. This wasn’t going to be a trek for solitude. We arrived at the base and headed up the hill, making our way through the autumnal forest. We’re told this is the best time to do the hike. Hikers push past us as they race to the top, then collapse as the hill soon turns into a mountain which soon turns into something a mountain goat might struggle on.

After an hour of quad burning we made it to the final stretch. A rocky promontory with a giant South Korean flag impaling it’s centre. The last 200 metres were more a climb than a hike as climbers have to use steel cables bolted to the rock face to haul their way to the top. It got pretty pushy up here with climbers jostling to get to the top first and climbers jostling to get down. At points the path was one petite person wide. It was funny how the Koreans suddenly forgot how to speak English when they were trying to push past us.

At last we made it to the peak and waited patiently in line for out turn to take a photo. There were a few rude Koreans that tried to push their way to the top. Koreans are also particularly polite, they’ll never call anyone out for a fault. I however, don’t give two Korean flags about saving face and immediately blocked their way, telling them that they’d have to wait like the rest of us. An old Korean man clapped me on the back and the rest of the patient line-waiters gave me big thumbs up. These people are so nice. Aware of the growing line behind us, we quickly took our photo and moved on.

We gathered with the rest of the sweaty hikers on the side of the rock to enjoy the hazy view. Trying for as long as possible to prolong the inevitable, the dreaded descent. As you might know by now, I don’t like to describe descents. They’re shit and only bring everyone down...

There was something poetic in the symmetry of starting the trip on a mountain and ending it on one and we both held back tears as we made our way back home.

With the trip closing, exhausted and overstimulated, we were both ready to come home. I don't want to be preachy here. I just want to say you can never really experience something online or through pictures or words. You have to go to it, get in its face, smell it, taste it, hear it, touch it, feel it, technologic. I used to think I knew what things were like around the world and all this trip has really shown me is how much I don’t know. I could write another thousand blogs and tell you about every part of my trips in minute detail ad nauseum. But it won’t mean anything to you. It’s my experience and only I can grow from it. The only way for you to truly experience it is to go. After all, you’ll never never know if you never never go.

An obvious special thanks to Richelle for pushing this trip to happen and putting up with me and my many many many deficiencies as a human being. I love you to Nepal and back, monkey.