Day 20, Leg 19

One 30K day down. Two more to go. Tomorrow is actually 32K, so once again, I plan to leave my pension at 4-something a.m. to give myself a head start on the day. That worked out very well today. My stats:

Distance: 30K

Time: 469 minutes (about 3.8 kph)

Steps: 45,146

Calories Burned: 5,627

Calories Consumed: 3,885 (deficit = 1,742)

Not an ideal day, but not too bad, either. There were a couple briefly challenging hills, but nothing exhausting. The worst part of the day may well have been the heat. I understand that it's been cold up in Seoul; I envy my Seoulite brethren. I'm down around the Daegu region; Daegu famously sits in a bowl that just collects heat and won't let it go. With one qualification: I guess the city also likes to share that heat with its neighbors because I'm now almost in Gyeongju, and the day was pretty hot. Thanks, Daegu.

Had to dodge traffic a couple times, but I suppose things could have been worse. Much of today's path was right along the coast, so I've got lots of pics of the ocean. Sunrise was again a disappointment; the constant cloud cover in the morning ruins any chance of seeing the sun pop over the horizon. Instead, I have to wait for a "false sunrise," in which the risen sun climbs above the dense cloud layer to have, like a loaf of bread, a second rise, this one visible to observers.

Before I undertook this walk, part of my study involved reading the blog of an Aussie chick who biked this route. She described it as windy, and while there's been some wind, I can't say that the walk has been windy as a whole. I've also found myself thinking about some of the clichés one associates with the beach, like "salty sea air." Frankly, I smell almost nothing, even when I'm right next to the ocean. The worst odors come from drying sea life: squid, seaweed, mystery fish, etc. The ocean at its stinkiest. (Frankly, I'm surprised the local seagulls don't constantly attack the hanging squid.)

Today's route was a mash-up of the original route to Angel Pension (now only 12 km because I'd walked all that extra distance two days ago) and 18 km more to where I am now, Yangpo Lighthouse Pension in extreme-southern Pohang. I'm glad I didn't stop at Angel Pension for the day; when I got there, the place looked empty. At Yangpo, the owner met me, and we negotiated directly. Voilà—I have a room (at W80,000 for the night). I've noticed that I have much better luck getting a room at a pension when I arrive in person and meet the proprietor. Whenever I call or leave a text message, I'm almost always told that no room is available. In person, though, almost no one rejects me. Go figure. Maybe I'm just more charming in person than over the phone. On the phone or via text, I identify myself as a foreigner walking across the country (횡단 도보 여행하는 외국사람), and I suspect the word "foreigner" is triggering for a lot of Koreans who don't know how to handle foreigners and don't want to deal with the stress.

Early today, as I was trying to sit and quietly eat breakfast, I got accosted by an older gentleman who spoke absolutely terrible English. On the one hand, the man's story was rather touching: his daughter lives in the States, and he's been trying to learn English so he can join her there. On the other hand, the guy simply would... not... shut... up. He realized his English was bad, so he switched to Korean and kept rattling on. I understood that he was an older man who simply wanted to talk with someone about his aspirations, but he lacked what Koreans call nunchi, a sort of perceptiveness when it comes to reading people's moods and attitudes. People who go on and on without realizing that their interlocutor stopped listening a few minutes ago generally lack nunchi. Grunts, monosyllabic answers, and lack of eye contact are all clues that the listener is no longer truly listening, but if you don't have nunchi, and if you're in love with the sound of yourself lecturing or playing the oh-so-witty raconteur, then you really need to learn how to read people better. My mother used to say that to my dad: "Stop going on and on." Alas, some people just don't fucking shut up. As for the old man, I ended our mostly one-sided conversation by saying my phone had charged sufficiently, so it was time for me to go, then I packed up and left with a polite goodbye.

But that was the only halfway meaningful human encounter of the day, and in truth, it wasn't as horrible as I made it sound. I do hope the guy eventually makes it to America. He's in his sixties, so he's got time. He just really, really needs to work on his English.

Naver saved me from getting turned around a few times today; unlike the Four Rivers path, which is fairly well marked, the east-coast route could do with some better signage. I see places all the time where signs would do a world of good, preventing people from wasting time backtracking.

Two things in great abundance today: barking dogs and cast-off gloves. While this trail has generally had way fewer abandoned gloves than I've seen along the Four Rivers trail, today made up for all that, as you'll see in my photo essay. And the dogs! Lots of barkers today, but also a few cool customers who merely looked at me without barking.

In terms of things I'm going to miss about this trail, I think I've already mentioned sunrises, but I'll also miss the neighborhood artwork, the squid boats on the horizon in the early morning (I assume those folks work through the night), and the path's periodic veering away from the shore—as long as it's along back roads, not highways or freeways. The vast and temperamental ocean also balances out the surfeit of civilization; I appreciate the ocean's primal and ancient nature. There are other things I'll miss, but I can't think of them right now. There's also plenty that I won't miss, but that's material for another post.

Anyway, the route was mostly straightforward—just follow the coastline. There were a few departures, but not many, and now, I'm on the cusp of finally leaving the nightmare that is Pohang. I suppose you'll be wanting some pictures, now, so here they are.

PHOTO ESSAY

early-morning shot of the monument from around where my motel is

the lighthouse near the monument does its thing

shadowy hand

squid boats

onward along the path

no Jesus-fire today: only a café sign

more squid boats

the first barkers of the day

water whooshes out of old pipes

whale mosaic

another barker

a white shwimteo

a boat chugs out to sea

this sign indicates a detour; I had to follow this detour earlier in the morning

animal assholes ruining concrete

lame sunrise

granny and her cart

hill

faux sunrise

very back-roadsy, with very little traffic

meditative

shwimteo come in all shapes and sizes

on the right track

I do love the rice paddies.

sun in earnest

There's no escaping POSCO.

admire the wall

I took video of this little guy crawling around.

a sophisticated octopus

Nine Dragons Chinese food ad

hill

another rise

pension

my first waypoint: Angel Pension (12K mark)

up another hill

Pohang is always 26 km ahead of you.

tech high school

"mini-minbak"

sometime before I took this pic, I encountered the talkative man

battle of the crabs

can't remember which port I'm at

an unfortunate name for a resto
(dongseong can mean "homosexual")

hill

roxx

a truly comfortable shwimteo

makeshift weight bench

down, down the road we go

two arfers, a little too close for comfort

granny

the dog leading granny on

toy, unloved

I found this kind of sad, and I thought back to my own long-abandoned toys.

two loose dogs hunt for scraps

squid up close

broken staircase, rebar exposed

misbehaving dawgz pretending to behave

just tired of life

a place called "Revoir" (see again)

the word for "ice," upside-down

another barker

Kakao characters

people, barely visible

zoom

Café Foretmer (la forêt = forest; la mer = sea)

more hollow concrete that's cracked open

I like the simple logo. ("Boseong Seafood")

This needs some explaining. Near as I can figure, this is a glamping site. Normally, I hate the very concept of glamping (glamor camping, which has nothing to do with real camping), but the scenario seen above looked intriguing enough for me to want to know more. I'm going to look this place up when I'm back in Seoul.

It's not all French.

A swastika usually indicates something Buddhism-related and/or fortune-telling.

one of many gloves seen today

These signs often have tree branches obscuring them, so I took this pic at an oblique angle.

skwarsh

while going up a hill

a different hill

a nice-looking "pool villa" 

enjoying a bit of shade while I rest

another

Dae Hwa Cheon (cheon = stream, but they're calling this a river for some reason)

I was sure this would be the Dae Hwa Gyo, given the name of the stream, but it's the Dae Jin Bridge.

lots of rice paddies to walk past, but the sea isn't far away

actual fermenting gochujang, flies and all

smelled awesome; I wanted to steal some

back to the water's edge

trying to time the shot to catch a splash

not too shabby

glubff

I took a wrong turn and went up this hill.

Had I not taken a wrong turn, I would never have met this octopus.

burning trash—fuckers

lots of weird and unique suburb-style homes

definitely a shwimteo

I've never been this close to these anti-avalanche crosses before.

"Love Story," says the dick-shaped mushroom

those roofs

Shin-chang 1-li

This elaborate structure is just a public toilet.

Practice mask-wearing and social distancing. Protect your beloved family.

not Janus-faced like the other guy

pension

hill

ratty and abandoned

no love for this sad chair

first sight of my destination

have to make a U-turn

Yangpo Port is where I'm at.

My pension is the white building. 

my room's designation: Dol Dom, whatever that means

sculptures in the park across from my pension

always nice to finish on an octopus

ADDENDUM: I almost forgot to upload the crab video! Here it is, for your delectation.

It going to rain on and off tomorrow. Pray for me.