A big reason why we’re staying in Mungyeong is due to its proximity to Andong, the capital of the North Gyeongsang Province. Andong is known as a centre of culture and folk traditions, particularly the Hahoe Folk Village.
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It was only 4 PM when we arrived in Mungyeong, and we felt like we were on top of the world. It had been a ride of contrasts, from the tough grind up the hill in the morning, to the neverending descent in the afternoon. Finishing our day a couple of hours earlier than normal made us feel invincible. Spirits were high as we sailed into town.
Today was the day. The dreaded climb up the mountain. The biggest climb we’d encounter between Seoul and Busan.
Obviously, Jess had hyped this up in her head to be as tall as Mount Everest, so she was nervous and shaky as we ate the free breakfast of toast and cereal that the Suanbo Saipan Hot Springs Hotel offered. Neil, annoyingly unflappable as ever, just shrugged and shuffled off to pinch another loaf. Perhaps he had just seen the clock on the wall that gave relevant advice for the day ahead.
We slept in until a luxurious 10:30 AM because we knew today would be a short ride. Jess set the alarm for 8 AM mostly out of habit, but we kept snoozing it, and the light was streaming through the curtains by the time we finally roused ourselves. It was a rare treat.
Our day on the bike was over, but our evening off the bike was just beginning.
It was 6 PM and the town was lit up like a disco roller derby at Christmas. Everywhere we looked, buildings were screaming their wares and offerings with flashing neon signs and bright lights, and our first impressions of Chungju were that of a Las Vegas strip with its fair share of travelling businessmen. Seedy but (mostly) harmless.
The sun was dangerously low when we rolled into Yeoju.
Adding 20 additional kilometres to our ride (in tandem terms, about 1.5-2 more hours) really didn’t help to keep our spirits high, and by the time we reached civilisation, we were so annoyed and tired that we did the bare minimum to find accommodation. That meant stopping in front of the closest motel that looked open, which in this town at this time, meant that there wasn’t many.
What a long day.
We set off from Seoul bright and early at 9 AM today, after enjoying a breakfast of toast, fried egg, and tea by Mr. Kim at the Haemil Guesthouse. The kitchen is small but cosy and functional, and we shared it with a few other people who looked completely bewildered at the sight of two loonies in lycra.
Seoul is the capital city of South Korea, and the 4th largest metropolitan economy in the world. Larger than London and Paris, the wider Seoul area houses roughly half of the country’s population. Like the country as a whole, it has developed into an economic powerhouse at breakneck speed in the time since the Korean War.
What’s the last thing you want to do the day before embarking on a 14 hour long-distance flight?
Spend 5 hours deconstructing everything on your balcony and roof terrace for the builders who will be renovating them during your vacation.
Today was our last day.
By the time the sun came down, we would have done a loop of the whole country and ended up back where we started in Belfast. As is usually the case, we were too busy thinking about what still lay ahead to reminisce. No time for nostalgia just yet.
Today's short ride and fair weather got us to Portaferry with enough time left in the day to visit the Exploris Aquarium. Whilst that might sound like some sort of 80s disco rave with cheesy pop and bad cocaine, it's actually home to almost 75% of all marine species found in Northern Ireland, living in careful facsimiles of their natural habitat.
Continuing our trend of easy last rides, today was no exception. We woke up to a calm sea and the sun shining its rays into our window. The storm had finally passed and it looked like today's journey would be smooth sailing. Or so we hoped.
They say that it never rains, but it pours. In Northern Ireland, this isn't quite true: it always rains. In Newcastle, however, it pours.
Another easy day awaited us when we woke up in the morning. It was 40-odd kilometres again from here until Newcastle, so we got up a bit later, ate a bit later, and set off a bit later than usual. These final stages are more laid back, so we've settled into a relaxed rhythm which allows us to languish longer over our bacon and beans, reading the morning papers aloud to each other like a pair of wrinklies.
Warrenpoint is a small seaside town located at the very tip of Carlingford Lough. It is separated from the Republic of Ireland by a narrow strait, and is charmingly picturesque with its promenade and waterfront hotels. It was in one such bed and breakfast that we would stay for the night, and as we cycled to The Lough and Quay (a fantastic pun if you pronounce it correctly, which obviously Jess the American did not), we felt like we were somewhere in the French riviera, minus the warmth.
Today was our last inland ride, as we were finally headed back to the coast where the Irish Sea awaited us. We timed our departure from Armagh for just after lunchtime, so as to avoid the worst of this small but busy city's traffic. It didn't really work out that way.
The first thing we thought when we rode into Armagh was, "Oh no. Not again."
This was the longest stretch in the saddle so far and one we originally anticipated as being the worst. Not because it went on all day, but because it was through a good chunk of the country. With bugger all between here and Armagh to break up the journey, that, along with the inevitable accursed drumlins, meant it looked like another chore of a ride, with nothing much to look at besides the usual fields of cows.