One of the great joys of South Korea is how intensely seasonal it is: summers sweating in the humidity, and winters shivering and pulling you blankets close in the traditional bed-free hotels, where you sleep amongst layers of duvets on a glorious heated floor. When they say cold, though, they mean positively arctic: capital Seoul becomes a frozen wonderland lit with delicate Christmas lights, the city's squares turned into purpose built--and unplanned--ice skating rinks.
Out in the countryside temperatures can plummet to a frostbite-inducing minus 25 degrees C. Public transport becomes difficult, but low level ski resorts and charming local festivals crop up all over the country. |
In Seoul, the rejuvenated Cheongdaemum Stream becomes the heart of the city, with delicate lights hovering over (and under) the icy waters of the man-made stream and its chunky waterfalls. It's a serious strain to hover outside for too long, but most can manage long enough to play the oversized floor keyboard tucked in a side street, or drift round the palaces in the frost to take some striking photographs.
Just down the road in Hongdae, a famous 'dog café' defies Korean stereotypes, with a menu that features items not made from dog, but produced for them. "Coffee for me, and a strawberry milkshake for the mutt, please." |
At some stage you’re going to want to escape the frosty streets for longer, and there is no better way to do it than by visiting a JimJilBang, the local version of a spa or in some cases simply a sauna and bath. Unlike most parts of the world, visiting a Korean sauna is far from expensive (without treatments, full use of the facilities might clock in at about US$12), though you will have to get used to a certain amount of public nudity, and can spend a large amount of your time trying to work out the difference between bathing in a platinum mineral bath and a gold mineral bath.
There are plenty of incredible experiences to be had, too, though, such as BuHwang (the process of having cups attached to your back by vacuum in order to get the blood flowing), gravel saunas (where you bury yourself and sweat amongst tiny, heated pieces of black gravel) and even beauty treatments like haircuts and skin scrubs; the perfect antidote to the vicious cold outside |
| There are many of parts of Korea, though, where the very heart of winter is seen as the perfect time for a celebration. In Taebaek, for example, the locals hold an ice festival at the base of the iconic mountain, which you can climb in snowshoes if youa re the particularly sporty type. Back at the base, children skid around lakes on tiny sleds, pushing themselves with sharp sticks, while the tiny town ships in international ice sculptors to build huge statues of the traditional (bears, igloos, fairytale castles) and the far less traditional (characters from the latest movies, slides winding around icy replicas of the latest technology). In amongst it all visitors make traditional bread by smashing dough with a huge hammer, and locals tie good-luck messages to the strings of a central post. There's always hot chocolate in a café made entirely of ice to keep the blood flowing, too. |
Not to be outdone, the tiny community of Hwacheon has an even more bizarre and enjoyable winter festival, centered on the local river salmon. The entire event is held on the wide bend of the town's river, with attendees wandering across the ice and ignoring the summertime footbridge (technologically affluent Korea, in the unlikely event that the river's not being cold enough, the organizers have even found a way to freeze it).
With hotels overloaded, visitors find themselves crashing on the floors of local grannies at the cost of a few dollars a night. During the day, there's the chance to splash around in a icy pool trying to catch salmon by hand, drive around on the ice in quad bikes, fish through tiny holes and drift through the surreal world of a mammoth icy building, complete with statues and chandelier lighting. To finish the night off with a bang, the festival market will grill your catch, or splash together a soup of live minnows to be dipped in a thick, spicy sauce and eaten whole. |
| It wouldn't be a Korean winter without a ski trip. The locals are still getting to grips with the sport, so there aren't many flying past at light speed like you might find in more established Western resorts, but Korean resorts do come with their own quirks. Karaoke (or Noraebang, as it' s known locally) is an essential part of the ski trip experience, as it Maekaeli (a hard to drink rice wine that costs a dollar a bottle, and is more than a touch hair raising), more of those spas and plenty of piping hot (and often impressively cheap) local food. |
| You could be forgiven for taking one look at the climate charts for South Korea in winter and dismissing the idea of a visit as ludicrous. The reality is very different, though, with the technology loving locals having found plenty of ways to keep themselves--and visitors--busy, with ample oddities and affordable relaxation. The sweatbox clubs are all the more alluring at this time of year, as is the spicy local cuisine and the Ondol floor heating, which is far better in practice than it sounds in theory (the author's favorite way of overcoming the freezing temperatures was to hug the floor on arriving home). It's bitingly cold, true, but Korea in winter is also a magical experience. |
|
PHOTO CREDITS: James Hendicott
|
|
