There're surprisingly a lot of pictures for what I thought was an ordinary, uneventful Busan day.
That doesn't mean that we didn't do anything.
On the contrary, we did.
Morning was occupied with tasks but before that, there was breakfast, which we took at the dining lounge up on what I think is the 22nd or 23rd floor of the property.
This place here has to be one of the nicest spots in the hotel.
Not only do you get a most gorgeous view of sandy Songdo Beach and the sea, the lounge is bright, cheerful, beautifully sunlit, and spacious.
It's not a space where you have to cramp up with your fellow diners.
Neither is it a space that's so wide that you don't feel welcome.
Homeliness is the best way to describe the lounge.
Homeliness is also the best way to describe the breakfast buffet, and the food.
I can't remember for sure what it was at the counter, but there was, if I'm not wrong, a section for the American, a section for the Continental, an egg station, and a section for the East Asian.
It's been a few months now so I'm not sure just what exactly it was I helped myself to, but I think I took some hash browns, a piece of toast (maybe) and- as the picture shows- scrambled eggs, some brownish thing, and a bowl of porridge.
After this plate there was a cup of strawberry yogurt, and possibly a few packets of seaweed (that I pilfered from the counter) but I think it was the porridge that really spoke to me.
It might have been nothing more than a little bowl but it was this that reminded me I was in a Fairfield by Marriott in Busan, and not anywhere else.
Near to lunch time we headed out to this place near Jung-ga called Geoin Tongdak that specialized in Korean Fried Chicken.
From the outside it looked like a common, non-descript place, like any other diner in any South Korean neighborhood, but the reviews said this place was good, that it served up one of the best fried chicken anywhere here in the city, and everyone should go try.
The reviews weren't kidding.
We might have chosen a regular plate of boneless chicken, original (because I had come in today determined not to have my chicken in yangnyum or any other flavors), but the taste of the skin was perfect, the chicken meat deceptively savory, tender and the crunch so satisfying good.
Our meal came with a little dish of pickled radish, and I found it incredibly refreshing to alternate a piece of the chicken with a cube of radish.
We didn't even need a drink.
Then again it's urban culture of the South Koreans to have fried chicken with soft drinks or beer, so for the full experience, best to have either one.
Speaking of fried chicken, I've always wondered what it is that makes the Korean style different from the other styles. For a long time I wasn't able to figure out, but I think it might have something to do with the size of the chicken, the way it's being fried, or the way it's being marinated even.
Apparently using younger chickens really plays a part in making the meat tender.
So does marinating it with spices, sugar and salt, plus coating it with sauce after it's fried.
I loved the skin of this fried chicken, I tell you.
The crisp was so different from what I'd had before, and the crunch was completely unique from any other style that I'd had before.
Lunch over, we went to a market called Bupyeong Kkangtong Market for a quick walk. I don't know much about this market, but it seemed to be one of those markets that locals frequent, with lots of different stalls, lots of different shops, and a host of things ranging from foodstuffs to kitchen equipment to clothes to yard stuff to bags and shoes.
Most of the things here seemed to cater for one's functional day to day life.
This was the place if you needed to get a set of bowls or cutlery or basins for food preparation.
This was the place to get rubber slippers for the bathroom or a dishcloth for the kitchen. This was also the place if you needed a new vest or a shirt or a cheery floral blouse or even one of checks and flannel-style. There were stalls selling hair accessories. There were stalls selling caps and sun-prevention shades.
I might be wrong, and I might be biased, but for a while I had the funny feeling that this market catered to the senior citizens and the hardworking agricultural community.
But there were food stalls too.
I saw several offering deep fried foods, and then there were stalls offering fruit and dried goods and packets of instant coffee and hot beverages and boxes of biscuits, sweets, cookies, snacks and tea.
We entered a small supermarket called Sales Mart, and for fun's sake, got a small packet of honey butter almonds.
After wandering about the streets a while we took a Uber to Geumgang Park at Geumjeongsan Mountain.
I'm not familiar with this mountain (I'm hardly familiar with the mountains of South Korea, to be honest), but the highest point of this mountain stands at 801.5m, it's a popular spot for hiking, and it's got a village, a temple and a fortress on it.
This afternoon we weren't here to hike.
We were here, instead, to sit the Geumgang Park Ropeway.
Built in 1966, the cable car travels 1.26km to the top of the ridge. In the wait area, besides the blue hard-cushioned seats and the shiny wood (wood-paneled) walls, there were BW photographs mounted high above showing how the cable car used to be. It was nostalgic thinking just how long this cable car had been here, and how it still looked somewhat the same in colors of red and yellow.
We got onto the cable car, 9000W each person both ways, took our seats, and sat all the way up the mountain.
The view, I tell you, was breathtaking.
It is not every mountain that grants you a lesson of human achievement in harmony with the timeless elements of Earth, Water, Wind, Wood and Nature.
Coming up on the cable car we ere given a glorious birds-eye view of the surrounding hills, of the city below, and the sea stretching far off towards the distant horizon.
If the view going up the mountain made me dream of oceans and seas and lands in the distance, the stroll at the ridge made me mindful of the present, the earth, the trees, the here, the now.
Seeing these pictures now makes me wish we had walked to the Geumjeongsanseong Fortress.
Supposedly the south gate of this Fortress- the largest one in South Korea- wasn't very far away from the station, but I hadn't known about it being there, and had there been signs, somehow I must have missed them.
Such a pity.
I would have loved visiting the place.
Historical places have a sense of timelessness unique to them and them alone, and what more if it be a Historic Site of South Korea that holds deep significance to the people of Busan, and South Korea.
It wouldn't have mattered even if I weren't able to visit the entire Fortress.
I'd have been glad to experience it at all.
Yet, now that I think about it, true that I might not have experienced the place firsthand, but if I may venture a guess, I think I did have a fleeting sense of her energy and atmosphere.
Up here amongst the trees there was a Silence, a Serenity and a Peace that I didn't feel at the foot of the mountain, nor in the cable car.
It was just dominant here.
On the ground.
In the flowers.
In the trees.
Even in the pine cones fallen to the ground.
Perhaps one day I'll be able to make a trip back here to Geumjeongsan Mountain.
Perhaps one day I'll be able to explore the entire Fortress and feel her presence even more.
But today I just kept to a little path around the cable car station, wandered a bit towards the direction of well-known Buddhist temple Beomeosa, and picked up a couple of pine cones to bring back home.
Down back at the foot of the mountain I stopped to admire the hydrangeas growing near the entrance, then the Uber came, and we headed to Jagalchi Market for dinner.
It is a little embarrassing, but up until I'd gone- and digested- the dinner that I'd eaten there, I had no idea how famous this market was.
It's like I had no idea that this was considered the largest fish market in South Korea.
I had no idea that this market traded in all kinds of seafood from all over the world, including shellfish, squid, octopus, and even lobsters brought all the way across the ocean from the other side of the world.
Then again, it should not have been a surprise.
I ought to have known.
Because how many seafood markets are there that have more than three floors, how many seafood markets are there that on the ground floor have at least twenty or so vendors standing next to huge containers containing sea creatures still swimming about?
I was quite intrigued by the shellfish they had.
I was also quite intrigued by the crabs and the fish.
Maybe we ought to have bought the fish fresh from the vendor and request to have it cooked for us, but then we decided to head upstairs to one of the places where we ordered a meal of grilled flatfish, a bowl of abalone porridge, and a plate of sea urchin with seaweed.
What made the meal extra lovely wasn't just the food that we'd ordered, even though, I must admit, I really, really missed the taste of jeonbukchok, and the grilled fish was tender, smoky, yet sweet.
What made this meal so unique (and harmonious) were the banchan that the ajumma brought to our table.
I hadn't thought there would be steamed groundnuts or warm steamed potatoes- we don't usually think of having steamed potatoes with seafood- but there they were, soft and mushy and delicious, and then there was a generous serving of fresh kimchi, a plate of huge beansprouts, a plate of cabbage, pumpkin, and best of all, two huge, juicy prawns that my friend peeled for me.