On The Road: Falling Palace

Last week, some of Cassandra's friends offered to take us on a trip and although the details of where exactly we would be going were a little fuzzy, it only added to the intrigue and excitement. A two hour car journey climaxed with a long winding climb high into the Korean mountains. The autumnal colours against the bright blue sky were dazzling, so as we rose higher and higher into the hills, passing orchards, traditional homes and constantly improving our view of the stunning panoramic landscape, I had high hopes for this sunday afternoon.

By the time we arrived, I couldn't wait to explore and we began to make our way up a wooded incline, with boulders that surrounded the path. As we continued, we negotiated narrow passages in the rocks leading to a tunnel which had been carved out of one of the boulders before finding ourselves walking through a forest. Eventually we arrived at a doorway which was being manned by a more traditional looking Korean man who instantly looked friendly if a little serious.

Behind him was a wooden door which I presumed we would pass through eventually, although I later learned that we were waiting for people who were already inside the palace to leave first. Once they started to leave, the guard ushered some of the bystanders to hit a drum three times which would allow for us to see what was waiting for us on the other side of this mysterious passageway. Yet again, our passageway was a dark tunnel which cut through another segment of mountain and finally lead us into the light. As my eyes adjusted, I began to take in the sights which above all else, seemed surreal.

We walked further into a circular area that was surrounded by stone walls containing water and eventually began to climb steps leading to a small temple at the top of a hill.

Samseong Palace in Cheonghakdong traditional village

I am constantly fascinated not only by Asian culture but how their culture, philosophy and general mannerisms oppose and differ from everything that we know and do in the western world. As I got to grips with my surroundings and the sheer audacity of the work that is a sign of respect to three spirits the Korean people believe in, I couldn't compare it to anything that I have seen outside of Korea.
We followed the path which bent and weaved itself up around another small hillside before veering off to a small path which led directly to a traditional Korean building.

Inside was another traditional Korean man who stood almost angelic, infront of a doorway, playing the danso (a traditional Korean instrument similar to the flute).