My Seoul Story Hiking shows Seoul's beautiful contrast

This is the fifth in a series of contributions about Seoul’s charms as seen from foreigners’ points of view. — ED.

By Alexander Sheu

Alexander Sheu

Three years ago, while visiting Seoul as a fresh graduate from medical school, I discovered my love for hiking. Having spent the first 20 years of my life in Midwestern America, surrounded by hundreds of miles of cornfields and grassy plains, Seoul’s undulating, mountainous terrain was a source of inspiration.

A guidebook suggestion barely larger than the size of a postage stamp led me to hike Seoul City Wall. I had no prior interest in hiking and nearly disregarded the recommendation, but had made no other plans for that day. On the morning of the hike, I contemplated sleeping in, reasoning to myself that I was justifiably jetlagged from the 14-hour time difference between Seoul and my home in Chicago. Thankfully, my desire to make the most out of my first trip to Korea nudged me out of bed and I set off on my journey.

As a novice hiker, I was woefully ill-prepared. I hadn’t anticipated the fact that my new sneakers would pinch my toes and that my slim water bottle would keep me hydrated for just a fraction of the climb. But these minor inconveniences faded away in the face of the city’s beautiful contradiction ― that Seoul could simultaneously be so modern, yet so rooted in nature and tradition.

From the vantage point of the city wall, I saw soaring skyscrapers and bustling traffic below while standing on stones that had been erected in the Joseon Kingdom (1392-1910).

I encountered friendly fellow hikers of all ages, some in their 70s and 80s, nearly all clad in colorful, high-tech athletic gear. At a shaded rest stop, I ate my lunch ― a warm, foil-wrapped roll of gimbap ― while chatting with an e-sports enthusiast about gaming culture in Korea. Another hiker extolled the virtues of their modern athletic gear, gesturing to their moisture wicking, cooling yet simultaneously heat-retaining parka and matching pants. My college T-shirt, sweatpants, and sneakers were sadly behind the times.

After I finished eating, I sat beneath the trees, shaded from the hot sun and cooled by a gentle breeze. I enjoyed moments of unadulterated silence that had been difficult to find during the course of my everyday life. These moments were intermingled with the sounds of lively hikers traversing the rocks with graceful ease, with the faintest trace of exertion in their footsteps. Inspired by my fellow hikers, I reflected on the importance of carving time away from the relentless pursuit of my career goals to dedicate toward my wellbeing and self-reflection.

Upon returning to the United States, I’ve kindled my new hobby by hiking Mount Ranier, Yellowstone, Yosemite, and the countless redwood forests of northern California. These experiences recall memories of that first hike, when I was a novice with an inadequate water supply wearing mismatched hiking gear. Though I have been on grand and difficult hikes since that initial experience, I will always remember my first hike, Seoul City Wall, which was my happiest memory in Seoul that has since inspired many happy memories and hikes.

Alexander Sheu is a resident at Stanford University School of Medicine.