My Seoul Story A hike to remember

Rebecca Ilham

This is the sixth in a series of contributions about Seoul's charms as seen from foreigners' points of view. ― ED.

By Rebecca Ilham

I had many great moments spending one week in Seoul, but none would top hiking up to N Seoul Tower on Mount Nam.

I initially thought the hike would take me an hour at the most, so since I needed a workout, I thought what could be better than exercising while sightseeing at the same time? With the positive vibes, I set off from Jangchung Park, happily strolling through the little garden in front of Dongguk University before climbing the stairs to the entrance of Namsan Park.

I was buoyed with excitement as I followed the jogging track that encircled the mountain, distracted by various angles of aerial views of Seoul. Everywhere I looked, I was confronted with similar views ― buildings of various heights built closed together, with little space in between. I always wondered how Seoul managed to house its 10 million residents, and now I had the answer.

I carried on forward, my eyes on N Seoul Tower looming ahead of me. Just a little bit more, I told myself confidently as the crisp morning air, while chilly to the bone, refreshed me. I was also motivated by the sights of enthusiastic “ajummas” (married women) and “ajeossi" (married men) in their full workout regalia on their morning routine. I even allowed myself to daydream ― if I were to move and live in Seoul, this track in the park would definitely be my regular running route.

Half an hour later, I was still nowhere near the tower. Since the track went around the mountain, it was now behind me. I started to panic and consulted the map by the side of the track. It turned out that my initial expectation of an easy, short hike was an illusion. The tower was still a few kilometers up and ahead.

By then, I was cold. My skin, used to humidity, started to feel the effect of the chilly wintry breeze. My legs were like lead and I started counting on the time lost ― time that could have been spent elsewhere. My eyes started looking for an exit, immediately finding an opening to the nearest subway station on the right side of the track.

But maybe it was pride, maybe it was stupidity, or both.

I gritted my teeth and looked up, searching for the beacon on the peak of the mountain that was my destination. Around me, more hikers, walkers and runners turned up. Most of them were way older than me but enjoying themselves. I decided to drag my feet and soldier on.

As if like magic, I started to enjoy the hike better. Apart from the view, the peace and quiet was priceless. For a moment, the hustle and bustle of Seoul seemed to be miles away. I made a brief stop at a temple found along the way, and even contemplated a detour to Namsangol Hanok Village. Thus understandably, upon reaching the cable car station, I decided to give it a pass. The tower did seem nearer and reachable by then.

I took a deep breath, turned around and absorbed the view of Seoul from this side of the mountain. I reflected on how far I had come, and how many more steps I had to take. After a few minutes of regrouping myself, I continued plodding up the stairs along the ancient city wall. I allowed myself another daydream ― that if I ever lived in this city, a weekly hike along the wall on Friday night would be my non-negotiable routine.

It was while contemplating those whimsical thoughts that I finally arrived at the base of the tower. It took me a moment to absorb the fact that I had achieved what I set out to do that morning. Then suddenly, I could feel that pain in my feet dissipate, my breathing no longer labored. I walked slowly to the edge of the viewing platform outside the tower. Beneath me, the city of Seoul spread out generously, as if agreeing that this was to be my happiest memory on its soil.

Rebecca Ilham is a writer from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.