Journey to the Center of the Earth

My feet no longer hurt from pounding against the brick walkways. Drenching my clothes in sweat after walking a mere block wasn't an issue anymore. Nor was sweating all over the bag I usually had slung over my shoulder. For all of this I had to be grateful to my new bike.

The first day in Chungju was enough to walking for my taste. Two days into my stay here I found my way to a bike shop, gave the man $50 and rode away with my beautiful Lespo Typhoon. 'Blow away the fear' she proclaims loudly on her black frame while her tires advertise 'absolute power'. Should I have an ego trip? Or maybe just commit senseless acts of violence against things that go bump in the night. Her dark whispers are a constant siren's call.

The comrade also got a new ride, one with a luxuriously plump seat and a cool mint green paint job, and we decided to give our delightful new toys a whirl. From the bright, cartoonish town map we had picked up at Lotte Mart I chose a destination that intrigued me. Ancient tombs were to be found in the hills west of town. It seemed fascinating- and more importantly close. The weather was still desperately hot and I had no idea how far I could go in the heat. The tombs appeared to be just a stone's throw away, perhaps the distance of a few city blocks past Lotte Mart.

At the time, I hadn't read the tiny print on the map indicating that it was not just not to scale but, in fact, wildly disproportionate. However, sitting at a table several hours later with a drunk Korean woman who was desperately interested in speaking with comrade and I, I didn't regret it one bit. It took that slightly misguided trek to finally feel as though we were experiencing something different.

The path that brought us here led past many a new sight. The robo-flagger was one of the less significant, but it was still very entertaining. I didn't understand until after we had passed it that it wasn't a real human waving his orange stick up and down in such a mechanical, weary fashion. The Koreans used robots to warn people of impending danger on the highway. Trusty, reliable robots- I think CalTrans could learn a bit from these guys.

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A pity the robo-flagger couldn't give me directions, we might have actually found the tombs. However, it is nearly impossible to navigate to a destination when all the signs to lead you there are in a foreign language that is written in a foreign alphabet. Still, comrade and I happened upon something extraordinary- Jungangtap.

Physically, the pagoda is only moderately impressive. The modern art sculptures in the nearby park and the beautiful vistas of Tangeum-ho lake create a pleasant atmosphere only slightly marred by the passing of a family riding a giant banana. The real majesty of Jungangtap, however, is that it was built in the 8^th century to mark the center of the kingdom during the Silla dynasty.

I didn't appreciate that fact at the time, but my comrade and I both knew we had stumbled across something amazing. Meanwhile, we sipped on a drink that I at first thought was called 'broccoli'. Our drunk Korean acquaintance quickly educated about the proper pronunciation. Apparently the Korean 'm' sounds very similar to a 'b'. Many letters in Korean do- in fact, 'p' and 'b' in Korean are essentially the same sound.  The drink is actually called 'makali'.