24 years on, it's still about the wall

For tourists like me, Berlin has to be still largely about the Berlin Wall, so powerful was it as a symbol of the Cold War that dominated so much of my formative years.

For 30 years the city was divided in a cruel and artificial way, much as today are the two Koreas which I'd caught a glimpse of a few weeks earlier. So much human suffering, and so much tension and potential for disaster with worldwide ramifications.

Berlin has been very much rebuilt and refashioned since the 1990 German reunification, but it's been sensible enough to leave lots of little reminders, like the garishly painted wall sections scattered around the place, to remind themselves, and to satisfy the curious tourists. There are also a few sections left standing much as they were, looking astonishingly thin and flimsy, presumably having relied mainly on all the rusty reinforcing to hold it all upright as long as it did.

My hotel was on Zimmerstrasse, just around the corner from Checkpoint Charlie, and clustered around there were a number of very interesting attractions. There was the 'Cold War Black Box' museum, illustrating milestones in Cold War history. There was the

'Berlin Wall Panorama', in a large steel rotunda, where you take in the rather realistic view as it would have been 30 years ago at that spot. There's another museum, which is apparently good on the subject of escape attempts (submarines, hot-air balloons, tunnels), and of course there's Checkpoint Charlie.

The original Checkpoint Charlie has been recreated, complete with warning signs, sandbags, and actors dressed as American military police. You can pose with them and get your passport stamped for a few euros. Lonely Planet says it would be nothing but a tacky tourist trap but for the Checkpoint Gallery nearby. I found it quite moving nonetheless, though I didn't part with my euros.

Berlin by train

Many years ago I set off from my then English home, on a summer hitch-hiking holiday, across northern Europe, but with the loose destination of Berlin. Good rides were coming thick and fast, and when I got an offer of a nice long ride with an American adventurer in a VW beetle, I stuck with him. He was bound for Copenhagen though, rather than Berlin, and turned left at Hamburg. So I changed my plans, and had an interesting exploration of southern Scandinavia instead.

I've often thought about completing that trip one day, actually making it to the fabled city this time, and last month I had my chance. I headed off from my recent winter English exile, and did a little north European exploration again, this time by fast trains.

It was Eurostar from London St Pancras to Brussels Midi/Zuid, then German ICE (Inter Continental Express) trains on to Berlin. It's a little over two hours to Brussels, even with a couple of stops along the way. Then from Brussels to Cologne in another two hours, then change trains and Cologne to Berlin in four and a half. Both the Eurostars and the ICE trains are said to travel at up to 300 km/h. The Cologne - Berlin one had a speed indicator in the cabin, which indicated up to 250 on this particular journey.


Here's a view of a French train and a German train, nose to nose in Brussels Midi station. The French one was about to head back to Paris, while I was about to board the Berlin bound German one going the other way.

The German ICE trains were comfortable and roomy. I found the Eurostar rather cramped though. Very much just another train, though it was fast and it was on time. There was a 20 minute period in a (rather too normal) railway tunnel along the way.

Being connected to England, which is always at war with various parts of the world, the British requirement of special security screening, with consequent extra check-in time, means that you have to add extra time to your journey planning. It strikes me that if they go ahead and build their next high speed train, from London to Birmingham, and save 40 minutes of journey time, they will then throw it all away if they feel the need for extra security and check-in measures on that one too!

Back to Berlin though. What a delight of a city to travel around in! You arrive at the fabulous new Hauptbahnhof, looking like a five-level ultra-modern shopping centre with concourses and train platforms

running through at all the right places - serving underground, on-ground, and elevated lines. You show up at the tourist office there. They sell you a 72 hour ticket for 27 euros, which gives you useful discounts at most of the museums and other attractions you'll be visiting, but also unlimited travel on all trains - U-bahns, S-bahns ('Stadtschnellbahns' - the older, partly elevated rapid city railway) - as well as trams and buses . Just get it stamped when you start your first journey, and then hop on and off as you like, with never another thought of price or payment procedure.

There are quite a few cities that could learn a lot on simplifying their public transport fare structures from Berlin. Sydney for instance, while priding itself on finally introducing its smartcard ticketing system (originally promised for the year 2000 Olympics), is nevertheless sticking to a ludicrously complex pricing system for it.

In Bruges

Food, glorious food

 
South Korean food is certainly interesting and exciting. Maybe glorious, in its own way. There are traps for the unwary though. Like the very red sauce that comes on lots of the dishes. Very red means very hot. And often the sauce didn't just have a chilli hot taste, it had what to my palate was a a hot industrial effluent taste too. So I went easy on the red bits.

I didn't encounter the raw fish experience, or worse still, the still wriggling live fish experience, that I'd read about. 

Mainly I just got fed nicely with one of the dishes of the day - with rice, noodles, various meat and other concoctions, kimchi of course, and a host of lesser side dishes. Always good value.

Must admit, for breakfasts especially, I chickened out a lot and often went to Subway or McDonalds.

Surreal glimpse of the impossible state

Since returning from Korea I've been reading The Impossible State by Victor Cha, in which he discusses the weirdness of the North Korean state, and the extraordinariness of its continued existence. I didn't visit North Korea proper, but I got my own little glimpse of it, via my 'Impossible Tour', which is how I think of my organised day trip tour to the Demilitarized Zone and the Joint Security Area (Panmunjom). It was the highlight of my Korean visit, and a totally surreal business.

I booked with Panmunjom Travel Centre a few days in advance. They need your booking and passport details at least two days in advance, presumably to check you out. I was picked up from my hotel and put on a big bus with about 40 other intrepid tourists. On this particular day there were two guides for the two main groups: English speaker Gina and a Japanese speaker for the Japanese contingent. Gina told me they often have a Chinese group too, but it's always only English and Japanese, or English and Chinese on the bus together, because if they put Japanese and Chinese together, they fight!

We went first to the Mt Odu Unification Observatory, where we were able to peer across the border into North Korea. We saw a school and a few (perhaps artificially well constructed) villages. Sometimes you get to see workers in the fields, we were told. There was the screening of a very heavy handed propaganda film about the awfulness of North Korea and its ruling dynasty, a mock-up of the high speed train that they hoped would one day run from Seoul via Pyongyang to Paris, and a typical North Korean schoolroom. Sat at our school desks we were introduced to a genuine North Korean defector, who answered our questions about life in the north and how and why she had defected. The final straw, she said, was when the government launched a currency exchange (a 100-fold revaluation) which wiped out everyone's savings. So the ten years she had spent building up her business had been wasted. She also had no means of buying more stock to continue the business. She had decided she had nothing to lose.

On then to a lunch stop, followed by Imjingak Park, to see various sites and memorials about the Korean War. And then it was on to the main course: the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) and the Joint Security Area (JSA).

The DMZ is a 4km wide ribbon along the border. Before driving into it we were transfered onto a military bus at Camp Bonifas, and put under the direction of a UN Military Armistice Commission officer (on this occasion a relaxed and friendly US Army Private with whom Gina enjoyed playful banter about his shopping and cooking habits). 

Gina had made us sign waivers about our 'entrance into a hostile area and the possibility of  injury or death as a result of enemy action'. We had to wear 'appropriate civilian attire so as to maintain the dignity of the United Nations Command'. Gina said that the North Koreans would be filming us, and poorly dressed visitors were sometimes used in propaganda films about how the West cannot afford to clothe its people properly. We were not to 'point, make gestures, or expressions like scoffing, abnormal action which could be used by the North Korean side as propaganda', or which indeed could start a fight and an international crisis.

The JSA is a small block of land, which straddles the precise border in the middle of the DMZ, and to which people from both sides have equal access. There are three UN-blue painted huts, the middle one of which we were led into. There is no communication between North and South, so it's strictly first come, first served, re access in practice. If a group from the North happened to be in there, we weren't going to try to join them, to be on the safe side. On this occasion though, it was the second anniversary of the death of Kim Jong Il, so all the North Koreans would be attending their solemn ceremonies, and there was little chance of meeting them.

In the hut, which has been used at times for discussions between the sides, we were encouraged to move about the room, including the North Korean end (so I've actually been several metres into North Korean territory), and to photograph the stationary wax dummy like elite South Korean soldiers who were there to guard us. They stood in their 'modified taekwondo' poses, ready for any action. We were advised not to touch them or walk behind them, in case we were injured by a reflex martial arts move. Gina had told us that every South Korean mother wants her daughter to marry one of these warriors.

A few metres to the north of these huts was the North Korean building. A sole North Korean soldier was standing to attention, watching us, binoculars at the ready. But close inspection revealed lots of gaps in the curtains, even another set of binoculars trained on us. 

As we drove back to Camp Bonifas we passed the memorial marker where the 1976 axe murder incident took place. Two American soldiers were pruning a tree which had grown up to obscure the view between two UN observation posts. Suddenly a group of their North Korean counterparts attacked them and, using the Americans' own axe, hacked them to death. One of the Americans was Captain Arthur Bonifas.

Over the years there have been lots of scary incidents at the border - fights, scuffles, murders, defections, and arguments. The South Korean soldiers wear dark glasses to minimise the chance of eye contact with their counterparts, and this has reduced the number of incidents. The tension, as they say, is palpable. So why do they risk more such incidents with busloads of, maybe ill-disciplined, tourists, some of them perhaps treating it all as just another entertaining day out? I imagine it's because we, the tourists, are a very important part of the show - the propaganda show that is.

The surreal nature of the whole trip was underlined when, back at Camp Bonifas, we were led into the duty free souvenir shop, where we bought DMZ T-shirts and North Korean brandy!

Kings, emperors, palaces and warriors

Korea's Joseon dynasty lasted from 1392 until 1910, when the Japanese took over for a few decades. They are very proud of their long period of independence, and the Japanese annexation was regarded as a period of national catastrophe.

 

The Joseon emperors (most were kings at the time, but posthumously declared emperors after the Korean Empire was declared in 1897) built fine palaces and presumably lived very fine lifestyles. 

You can walk around several such palaces in Seoul today, meticulously restored and rather beautiful. Every hour or two there will be a 'changing of the guard' re-enactment ceremony. There will often be martial arts displays, lots of pageantry. It's all very colourful.

You're led to believe that these emperor chaps with their magnificent palaces and secret gardens were wise and benevolent, ruling purely in the interests of their subjects, who loved them dearly, even though I imagine these subjects would have lived dirt poor subsistence lives.

Later on in my Korean adventure I visited the Demilitarised Zone between North and South Korea, before which I was shown a rather heavy handed South Korean propaganda film about another Korean dynasty, the Kim dynasty of the current day North. The dastardly leaders ('Great', 'Dear', or 'Supreme') were said to have had hundreds of  luxury cars and other extravagances, while the poor, miserable ordinary folk starved or ate weeds and rats (or something like that). (Might well all be true of course, but the presentation style didn't do the message any favours.) I was struck anyway by the likely similarity between the benevolent dictators of the good old days and the evil ones of the modern age, just over the border. Not quite sure how many South Koreans see it like that.

Seoul - a city with soul (and rather a lot of concrete too)

I spent a few days recently in South Korea, mainly confined to Seoul, and once I'd found my footing in the snow and ice that covered the footpaths, I found that it was indeed a great place to explore.

On the snow and ice thing, I suppose I should have expected it, but as I'd not seen any for the past few years, it somehow came as a shock anyway. When I initially emerged in the city out of the metro tunnel, I thought I was sliding on a layer of sugar that must have come from a sack that had fallen off a truck. Honestly. Only it was everywhere.

One of the things that grab you about the place is the contrast between the old and the new. There are some very imaginative and modern buildings around, and a fabulously efficient clean, modern, convenient public transport system. There are also beautiful and perfectly restored royal palaces and 'hanok' traditional village suburbs (though not many). There's the best educated, most wired up and online population in the world, and there are very traditional Asian style market places.

I attempted to follow Lonely Planet's recommended 'archi-tour' of the Gangnam district. I bagged the GT Tower East and the Tangent building (headquarters of the Himma company), plus several other fine specimens. After photographing the slinky and curvaceous former edifice, a security guard came out and told me: 'No photo'. No reason could be elicited, but I put my camera away and he seemed happy. Fancy being shy about this beautiful creation. I wonder whether they want to stop me copying it somewhere or to stop me flying an aeroplane into it. I should add that by and large, I found Koreans to be incredibly co-operative, helpful, and friendly people.

The concrete doesn't all end up in fine creations like those though. From the top of Seoul's TV tower you can peer out on a vast megalopolis of between 10 and 25 million people (depending how you define the city limits - cities are like this). You become aware that an awful lot of them live in 'suburbs' of dozens, maybe sometimes hundreds, of identical tower blocks. That's a lot of concrete, and maybe not such a soulful lifestyle?