August 22 until August 25 2008

Two living estafet-batons

'Karen!!!!!!'
'Wooki!!!!!'
'Peter!!!!!!'
'Wooki!!!!!'
'Welcome to my country! Welcome to Korea! This is my friend Byoung-Rok Lee. So why did it take you two years? Korea isn't that far from Tibet!'
'Yeah, well, we are so terribly slow Wooki, and we had one puncture last year, so it took a little longer.'

We're at the arrivals hall of the international ferry from Tanggu in China to Incheon in Korea.
After a three-week stay with Arie and Patricia de Bruijn in Beijing we cycled in three boring days to Tanggu harbour.
The estimated 25 hours boat ride is extended by five hours, because of a hard storm and a gale force wind of eight ahead. At our arrival in Korea it's still raining and the temperature has dropped considerably.
But the cold is forgotten as soon as we are picked up at the boat terminal by Wooki and his friend.

We met Wooki two years ago during our exhausting journey through Tibet, where we lived for weeks above an altitude of 4000 metres and endured circumstances that were sometimes extremely hard. One afternoon we ended a long cycling day, over bad rock paths, in an empty shepherd hut, when we saw another cyclist approaching in the distance. It turned out to be the South-Korean Wooki, who was in mental and administrative problems. His visa had almost expired, he was nearly out of food and completely exhausted. We shared our food and hut and promised to stay in touch.

It is two years later now, and all promises have been kept.
Our bicycles and panniers all fit in Byoung-Rok's large MPV and we are heading for his home in Incheon. It's just like being in the Netherlands: standing bumper to bumper in the rain. We look outside whilst talking and see enormous towering apartment buildings fight for a place in the skyline. So this is Korea, a modern and prosperous country, where everybody clearly respects the traffic rules.
We don't know a lot about Korea, except for some cyclist's stories. They write about a well-organised, clean country that's quite expensive. Byoung-Rok, who has participated at dozens of marathons, ultra-marathons, triathlons and Iron Mans, lives in one of the hundreds of towering apartment flats scattered all over Incheon and Seoul. His wife and daughter have prepared a fantastic traditional Korean meal, consisting of soup, a number of main and several side dishes. Of course the national dish 'kimchi' is present as well. Kimchi is Korea's most served side dish, usually consisting of preserved cabbage, radish and several kinds of root, fermented with garlic, red chili peppers and ginger. There are many more varieties, almost always very spicy. Peter tries a little bit and loves it. But he can't have any more, otherwise he'll spend the major part of tomorrow on the toilet. I don't touch any of the spicy dishes, my stomach already gets upset by merely looking at them.

The following morning we're transported to another sportive family, the Jeoung Ohk family in Seoul. Ohk also loves marathons, triathlons and Iron Mans; he even participated in the Moroccan Sahara marathon.
Wooki takes us to Seoul's centre. First we look for an ATM with a "Global Access" sticker to draw some money. Wooki thinks we can also get money at the large Shinian bank, but the machine acts really strange and in the end swallows our bankcard. This is the first time during our travels this happens and hopefully the last. A number of telephone calls and fifteen minutes later the notified security guard returns the precious jewel to us. Pfff...
The Namdaemun Market in the centre of Seoul is bustling. Striking are the many stalls selling the pricy ginseng root.
Hansu, Wooki's girlfriend, joins us after which the four of us visit a traditional Korean village and Seoul's Wall.

The Jeoung family serves us another traditional Korean dish at night, called "sam": you place a sesame leaf on top of a leaf of lettuce, add some grilled pork or fish, fresh garlic and sauce to taste, neatly fold the present and put the whole thing in your mouth. Delicious!
We sleep in one of the rooms of the day-care-centre run by Kim Hyun Jin, Ohk's wife, another first during our trip.

Sunday August 24 we enjoy our first bicycle ride in Korea. Over specially built bicycle roads alongside the Hangang River, filled with hundreds of joggers and mountainbikers, Ohk leads us right through Seoul until we are handed over to a suddenly appearing Wooki. For the first time in our lives we know how it feels to be an estafet-baton: helpless and curiously waiting.
Wooki directs us to Hansu's home, where she lives with her parents and paternal grandmother. The extensive Korean breakfast we enjoyed this morning is followed by an even larger Korean lunch. Koreans love to eat and are fabulous cooks.

In the afternoon we finally do nothing for a change. At night a big surprise awaits us in the shape of a Korean club of world-cyclists, of which Wooki is a member. We meet eight members in a dilapidated but very popular fish restaurant in the centre of town. The slightly sour tasting macoli (rice wine), served in large bowls from a big pan, accompanies the deliciously fried fish and everybody tells about his or her cycling adventures somewhere in the world. The Netherlands proudly owns the "Society The Worldcyclist". Other than that this is the first time we hear of the existence of such a club.
The evening ends in a bar, where large pitchers of beer are ordered, together with many snacks: in Korea drinks are always accompanied by food.

Finally there's the first real cycling day, during which we ride from Seoul to Gapyoung. We are accompanied by Wooki. Having left the busy city full of traffic lights behind, we follow small and quiet roads as much as possible. Wooki cycles ahead of us, stops to take pictures and is off again. It's warm, and we encounter our first ascents.

Over 70% of Korea's surface is covered in mountains, almost all of them clad in forests in all shades of green. Range upon range of hills come into sight. The valleys contain cultivated farmlands. Korea is one of the world's most densely populated countries and the people utilise every inch of land to grow food. Even the road shoulders are full of sesame plants and pumpkins.
The slopes get longer and steeper; huge and colourful butterflies flutter around us and the sun is doing a good job. The Korean roads are all paved with tar or concrete, unpaved roads are scarce.

After ninety kilometres and some nice detours we arrive in Gapyoung, where Kim Nam-Young, a fanatic cycling enthousiast who works as a policeman, awaits us at the municipal office with vitamin and aloe drinks.
The estafet relay continues.
Together with colleague Sim Jae Chan, a fanatic tri-athlete, he has arranged for a “minbak”, a big room with Korean mattresses on the floor, where we are welcome to stay for two nights. The minbak is situated at a river in a nature park six kilometres out of Gapyoung. Before we cycle there, Sim hands us a present: a beautifully wrapped box containing three containers of pine nuts. The giving never ends…
In the park Nam-Young's older brother and a number of his friends await our arrival. After we've taken a cold shower the party warmly welcomes us with a freshly prepared traditional meal and delicious raspberry and rice wines. By now we start feeling awkward, receiving all these generous presents from people we don't even know.

Being estafet-batons in Korea is like the St. Nicolas festival in the Netherlands: a huge surprise party, during which you don't know what you will get and from whom.
And in the end, you're always pleasantly surprised.