Seoul Food

To add to the drama, she gesticulated wildly. None the wiser, I tested my luck and asked an astonishingly pretty girl whether she could help me out. She gave me a knee-weakening smile and nodded.

‘‘It’s silk,’’ she said. Comprehe-nsion flooded over me—that was boiled silkworm. Now, I’m fairly adventurous when it comes to food—I’ve had crocodile steaks and eggs and barbequed field rats—but I draw a firm line at the insect world.

Leaving a disappointed silkworm seller behind, I went off to explore the rest of the market, which was much like Mumbai’s Crawford Market, with piles of colourful shoes, clothes, toys and all sorts of knick-knacks being hawked by vociferous Koreans. I felt very much at home, to tell you the truth.

But what was I doing wandering around markets and coming close to ingesting silkworms? Well, the real Seoul (if you’ll pardon the bad pun) is to be found precisely in places like Namdaemun market. Modern Seoul, that of the towering skyscrapers, depressingly similar housing blocks and 12-lane freeways, isn’t much to write home about. Shut your eyes and you could be in any city in the world. But I can’t fault it for being a bit been-there-done-that.

The Seoul you see today is young compared to the great cities of the world. It was almost totally destroyed by the tragic Korean War, and when you’re rebuilding a city virtually from scratch, I suppose the topmost priorities aren’t quaintness and charm.

Nevertheless, Seoul in spring isn’t the worst place in the world to be. The weather is great, the people are friendly and willing (if not always able) to help you out and the Korean girls—ah, those Korean girls.

To see more of the old Seoul, I took the excellent subway and got off at Gyeongbokgung (go on, I dare you to say that straight off the bat), where one of the city’s old palaces is located. As palaces go, it was a surprisingly simple structure, and the fact that it’s repainted every few months made it seem not-so-old, but there was still a quiet dignity about it.

I had a look at the adjacent museum and tied my tongue into knots at the interactive ‘Learn Korean’ machine, much to the amusement of all present. I then wandered out into the nearby residential areas, taking in the traditional tiled-roof homes, some of them with wonderful wooden doors and huge brass knockers.

The whole area was once the exclusive preserve of the nobility, and you can still find an air of grace and sophistication here. I wrapped up my whistle-stop tour of old Seoul with a visit to the fantastic Biwon, an 80-acre royal garden on the grounds of the Changdeokgung palace complex.

In order to get a feel of the events that tore this beautiful country apart, I dialled in a trip to the War Memorial Museum, which traces the history of the many wars that have been fought in Korea by various forces, beginning with the Three Kingdom period (around 300 AD) and ending with the Korean War (1950-53).

For an avid military buff like me, the place was like walking through a 3D Jane’s issue. A huge assortment of military machinery was on display on the sprawling grounds—a massive B52 bomber, a P51 Mustang, several MiGs, Russian and American tanks, Scud missiles, a submarine, Sikorsky helicopters, gunboats, anti-aircraft guns and many more. I had never seen any of these machines in the flesh before, so naturally I lingered over each exhibit greedily, leaving only when the museum closed for the day.

There’s a good deal to be learnt about a city from its nightlife, so after a shower and shave, I headed for Itaewon—supposedly Seoul’s hottest nightspot. It was certainly colourful and that’s putting it mildly. The pubs and clubs were just as raucous or just as icy cool as anywhere else in the world, and if you were looking for a bit of nudge-nudge, wink-wink action, this was undoubtedly the place to head to.

Heady as it all was, I wasn’t quite in the mood to do any nudging or winking, so I decided to try my luck at the first jazz bar I saw. It was a dark, smoky place, like all good jazz bars, and an incredibly smooth Korean band was putting on a gig fit for the Montreaux Jazz Festival.

I ordered a pint of Guinness, found a corner and immersed myself in the music. If this was any indication of what Seoul was capable of dishing out, the city had just found a new fan.