Irene Butler - Part 2

South Korea’s Demilitarized Zone (DMZ)

by Irene Butler

South Korean soldiers

Day Trips from Seoul to the Demilitarized Zone or DMZ attract visitors from around the globe – over three million a year, according to our tour guide Lee.

Rick and I, along with another half-dozen tourists exit South Korea’s high tech, yet traditional capital city.

Our driver, Mrs. Wong handles our tour van like a jet-plane, while Lee imparts facts, “North and South Korea are divided at the 38th parallel, the original boundary decided by the USA and Russia at the end of WWII. During the Cold War this border was a hotbed of tension. The Korean War began in 1950 when the North invaded the South. In 1953, with international intervention, both sides pulled their troops back and borders were set with a 4km buffer zone in between – the DMZ”.

Shuttled from our van to a bus authorized to enter the DMZ area, we are taken to Dora Observatory. No photos are allowed from the viewing platform, but for 500 Korean Won (50 cents CND) crowds line up for a peek through a telescopic lens for any movement on the North Korean side. Instead we walk up the hill alongside the observatory where not-far-off barbed wire defines the South border and the no-man’s-land beyond.

Dorasan Station is next, a 40-million-dollar structure built in 2002 for inter-travel and freight between the countries in conjunction with the development of Kaesong Industrial Complex (10k inside the North) wherein South Korean owners utilize the North’s cheaper labour in the manufacture of items such as shoes and clothing. “For whatever reason,” says Lee, “in 2008 the North Korean government chose another route for this collaborative economic venture – leaving this station a useless shell.” Well, except for us tourists vying for photos with soldiers who although appearing much younger, must be at least 18 to comply with 21 months of military service by South Korea between ages 18 to 35. Women’s duty is optional. In North Korea 10 years of military service is mandatory for men, 7 for women.

It is onward to the 3rd Infiltration Tunnel – out of the 4 (that have been discovered so far) dug by the North to invade the South. The 3rd Tunnel was found in 1978 based on tips from a North Korean defector. Its location is a mere 52km from Seoul. It runs through bedrock below ground at a depth of 73m, its length is 1.6km, and is 2m wide and 2m in height – capable of moving thousands of weapon toting soldiers through per hour.

Chilled by more than cold damp air, I forge deeper and deeper into the tunnel with wet rubber mats underfoot and dripping rock walls; the hardhat I am wearing often clunks on an irregular piece of jagged ceiling rock. Before reaching the border there is a barricade of stone with a small opening from which to see that the tunnel indeed goes on into North Korea. “The North claim the South dug the tunnel,” says Lee, “but proof it was the other way around is the orientation of the blast lines and downward slope towards the North, so digging debris could be removed as the tunnel progressed.” This slope is readily apparent by the way I propel down with ease and labour to get back to the entrance.

Although our tour only passes by the village of Panmunjom located inside the DMZ, it should not go without mention. Known as the JSA (Joint Security Area), buildings lie on both sides of the Military Demarcation line (DML) separating North and South Korea. Some situated right on top of the dividing line is where the 1953 negotiations were held, and all meetings between the countries since.

The feeling of being at the DMZ is sobering and most unusual – what you don’t see has more prominence than what you do see – it is the lurking unpredictability of ongoing tensions between the Democratic South and the Communist North. This remains one of the most heavily guarded zones on the planet with a long list of sporadic hostile outbreaks with casualties in the hundreds between 1953 to present day. The tour is a mix of history, today’s reality, and hope for peace between nations.

More Info:
Many Tour Companies offer tours into the DMZ area and JSA. Lists of recommended tour companies can be obtained from hotels in South Korea.

About the author:
Irene Butler is an award winning travel writer and author of “Trekking the Globe with Mostly Gentle Footsteps” now on Kindle. Her articles have appeared in national and international publications. She and her photographer husband Rick explore the world for six months of every year. www.globaltrekkers.ca

Photo Credit: Rick Butler

The Birth of St. Petersburg Russia

by Irene Butler

Day Trips from St. Petersburg to Peter and Paul Fortress are a pleasant one-hour-str0ll from the city’s famous landmark, Palace Square. We make our way down charming streets and cross a bridge to the renowned fortress on Zayachy (Hare) Island in the Neva River.

This first walled settlement was the beginning of St. Petersburg, founded by Peter the Great in 1703 at the height of the Great Northern War to protect Russia against the Swedish Empire. A complex of museums is now housed in the old structures depicting centuries of historical significance.

Peter and Paul Cathedral’s prominence is overpowering; its bell tower rises to 122.5metres, a gilded angel tops the cupola. My husband Rick and I swing open heavy wooden doors to a resplendence of marble and gold. Rows of sarcophagi surround the edges of the gleaming marble floor – with the exception of two, all of Russia’s Emperors and Empresses are buried here. It was a heady feeling to gaze upon the final resting place of “The Greats – Peter, Alexander and Catherine.”

I move to the canopied section at the back of the church where on July 17, 1998 the remains of Tsar Nicholas II, the last Romanov Emperor, his wife Tsarina Alexandra Fyodorovna, and daughters Olga, Tatiana and Anastasia are laid to rest, along with the servants who were murdered with them. This macabre execution by the Bolsheviks took place in the city of Yekaterinburg in July 1918, to ensure ties would be broken to those citizens who after the Revolution might remain loyal to the Romanov Dynasty. The remains of the other two Romanov children, Maria and son Alexei were discovered in 2000, approximately 70metres from where the other members were found in a mass grave 16 years earlier. Authenticity has now been proven by DNA tests. Burial is awaiting approval by the Russian Orthodox Church.

Checking out the selection of other Fortress Museums, we decide on the Commandant’s House to glean the city’s history prior to 1917. The rooms are filled with old office-type furniture that the top-dogs who once ran the place may have used.

Our last museum choice is the Prison of the Trubetskoy Bastion. Built in 1720 and rebuilt in the 1870s it was the holding facility for a long line of political prisoners and dissidents. Prison cells with one small high window contain a small table and a metal cot, some with bare springs, others with thin mattress or rough grey wool blanket. Outside each cell are write-ups with photos of some of the prominent figures once imprisoned here – two names are immediately familiar – Revolutionary Leon Trotsky and Novelist Fyodor Dostoevsky.

We hurriedly approach Naryshkin Bastion and climb the tower platform for a good view of the cannon firing at noon. I no sooner get settled along the rail with about 200 other spectators than church bell chimes. I expect a loud boom – but not the unraveling ear-shattering blast! I yelp and jump a foot almost losing my video camera over the railing – my resulting footage is only the deafening explosion and trickle of aftermath smoke.

After visits to a functioning Mint and The City History Museum within the fortress grounds, it’s time to spread out our picnic fare on the lawn that runs along the river outside the walls. We sit among like-minded locals soaking up the late afternoon sun and leave the island with an enlightened perspective of the historical roots of St. Petersburg.

About the author
Irene Butler is an award winning travel writer and author of “Trekking the Globe with Mostly Gentle Footsteps” now on Kindle. Her articles have appeared in national and international publications. She and her photographer husband Rick explore the world for six months of every year. www.globaltrekkers.ca

Photo Credit: Rick Butler

Stepping Out Onto The Mongolian Steppes

by Irene Butler

The range of day trips from Ulaanbaatar onto the Mongolian Steppes swirl in our minds. Our dilemma of fitting in all we want to see is perfectly resolved by combining our day of sightseeing with an overnight stay in a nomad ger (yurt).

Sanjay our skilled driver wends his way over the dusty pot-holed road. The hectic capital of Ulaanbaatar seems a world away as the steppes (grasslands) unfold around us. My breath catches as we approach the Chinggis Khaan Statue (known as Genghis Khan to us westerners) – this 13th century Golden Horde leader clutching a golden whip sits astride his powerful steed. “This statue fashioned from 250 tons of stainless steel rises 40 metres from on top of the 10 metre visitor’s centre,” says our guide Umbra as we stand mesmerized before this behemoth.

Next is Terelj National Park where the undulating steppes morph into granite cliffs. We wander in bright sunshine among giant boulders – one stack resembles a dinosaur-sized tortoise, dubbed Turtle Rock. Further along is the Ariyabal Meditation Temple. “Yikes, this will test our stamina,” I say as we begin our hike up the snaking path with 150 Buddhist proverbs posted on signs along the way. At the top our prayers are unleashed into the ether with the spinning of prayer wheels that surround the temple – mine includes gratitude for surviving the climb. The inside of dynamic colour holds an aura of tranquility with worshippers focused on a gold Buddha at the far end.

The road becomes mere tire-tracks as we enter the nomad community. Thirty percent of Mongolia’s 2.75 million citizens are nomadic or semi-nomadic, raising sheep, cattle and goats. We note how modernity has melded with tradition in the satellite dishes sprouting around the gers like metal flowers. Entering the main ger of our host family, a flat screen TV is on, and Okto the lady of the house finishes a cell-phone chat and welcomes us with open arms. Within minutes Okto is filling our bowls with a hearty mutton noodle soup from a wok that fits over the small woodstove/heater. Water must be hauled from a well a kilometre away.

We are ecstatic when Undra gleans a special event is going on down the road – a mini Nadaam! The next best thing to being at the National Nadaam Festival held in July each year that draws skilled participants from all over Mongolia to compete in horse racing games, archery and wrestling.

The crowd is cheering the horse race winners as we approach the field. We settle among the spectators on the grass as the wrestling begins. A dozen men compete in pairs, the winners pitted against winners, until only two remain – a wiry muscular opponent against another dressed in traditional wrestling garb of blue speedo-type bottoms and red top covering his arms and back. The latter wins and with arms stretched he soars like an eagle around the national flag to celebrate his victory.

Okto’s husband Dasha arrives home in the early evening. Like Okto he speaks no English, but thru Undra he relays how as a Shaman his body is the vehicle through which to tap into the wisdom and healing powers from within his source of seventy-seven spirits.

Our guest ger is prepared with a fire in the stove and plenty of wool blankets. Readying for breakfast the chill morning air has us moving faster than a hawk swooping down on its prey. After our fill of sweet tea and biscuits the table is cleared for Shagai, played with dried sheep bones – a game that has been around since Chinggis. All too soon it is time to bid farewell to our gracious hosts and to once more cross the vast steppes that portray a sense of infinity.

About the Author:
Irene Butler is an award winning travel writer and author of “Trekking the Globe with Mostly Gentle Footsteps” now on Kindle. Her articles have appeared in national and international publications. She and her photographer husband Rick explore the world for six months of every year. www.globaltrekkers.ca

Photo by Rick Butler

Fun and Firewalkers Fiji Style

by Irene Butler

Fiji firewalkers

Day trips from Denarau Island to Fiji’s largest island of Viti Levu are just a causeway away! Our Sofitel Resort & Spa on Denarau is a perfect launch from which to seek out the cultural, historical and untamed tropical beauty of Viti Levu.

The country’s capital of Suva sweeps us back to the time of British rule with its colonial buildings and small churches from the early 1900’s. The Fiji Museum captivates us with a chronology of Fiji’s past with displays of traditional double-hulled canoes, and chief’s whale bone necklaces. From tribal feuding times is a daunting array of war clubs and utensils used in cannibalism practices, as well as the sole from the shoe of missionary Reverend Thomas Baker who in 1867 was eaten for insulting a village chief. Another area reveals the terms of British indenturing of Indian workers for the sugar cane plantations between 1879 and 1916. The descendents of these workers, known as Indo-Fijians, and the indigenous Fijians are the country’s major cultures.

A day trip milling around the laid-back town of Nadi is a fine way to rub-shoulders with locals. Neat coffee shops line the streets serving our new delight – cassava cake. The sizable open-air Municipal Market overflows with vendors sitting on mats displaying taro, pineapple, mango, and strange-looking kava (yaqona) in all its forms; tangled stems, roots, and pre-packaged kava powder. The “grog” made from this plant, belonging to the pepper family, is consumed at ceremonies and social occasions.

Not to be missed is a Sigatoka River Safari. We skim up river in a jet boat to the remote village of Koronisagana where our curiosity about kava grog is to be satisfied in a traditional ceremony. The chief and village dignitaries make up a fresh batch of the mildly sedative, tongue mumbling brew that we down from a halved coconut shells. Our appetites spike for the “lovo” (earth oven) feast the village ladies prepared – tender chicken and fish in a mix of tangy spices, thick slices of baked taro and banana-like plantain. It was good to shake down our overindulgence in traditional “meke” dancing with the villagers.

I couldn’t imagine leaving without yet another day trip to Pacific Harbour Bay, where legendary firewalkers of the Sawau Tribe from the nearby island of Beqa walk over scorching rocks – as did their forefathers for hundreds of years. With ritualistic chanting the chief and several other male tribe members not only tread upon, but stand with arms outstretched on the smoldering rocks with no discomfort showing on their faces. A later close inspection of one young firewalker’s feet reveals no ill effect – their feat (pardon the pun) boggles the minds of scientists.

In between our day trips we relish soaking up the amenities of the Sofitel, with dips in the pool, sunset strolls on the beach, scrumptious suppers in the ocean view restaurant, and more than once finding our way to the resort’s spa for a massage and dip in a private outdoor tub filled with fragrant Frangipani flowers.

In a (coco)nut shell, there is something for everyone in Fiji whether adventurer or beach bum. The population adopts you the minute you arrive and the islands confer a rare tranquility being that the total population numbers less than 900,000. To Tourism Fiji’s catch phrase “fiji me” – I say, “anytime”.

More Info:

Fiji is comprised of 333 islands with 5-star resorts to remote “Robinson-Crusoe-type” escapes. Snorkeling/diving the coral reefs, world-class surfing are draws.

Denarau Island is reclaimed land off the west coast of the Viti Levu. Denarau Marina port is used by catamarans departing to and from the offshore islands.

About the author:
Irene Butler is an award winning travel writer and author of “Trekking the Globe with Mostly Gentle Footsteps”. Her articles have appeared in national and international magazines, newspapers and E-zines. She and her photographer husband Rick explore the world for six months of every year. www.globaltrekkers.ca

Photo Credit: Rick Butler

Bali, a Slice of Paradise

By Irene Butler

With 17,504 islands in the Indonesian archipelago, island hopping is a must. Our choice of day trips from Jakarta, the country’s capital, was to the island of Bali, which can be done in a day, although most travellers dally for at least a few. From traffic-clogged Jakarta situated on Indonesia’s largest island of Java, a short flight brings us to Bali’s tranquil setting of cream-coloured sands, swaying palms and luminescent green terraced rice fields.

Our first sojourn is into the island’s interior jungle to the Four Seasons Sayan Resort & Spa for ultra-pampering, while we seek out the essence of the culture. In the nearby town of Ubud the spirituality of the gentle Balinese people resonates from the public temples and small alters that grace every home. The Balinese practice a form of Hinduism, worshipping many of the same gods as India’s Hindus, but with their own supreme god – Sanghyang Widi. However, animistic beliefs of continuous encounters with spirits take front stage in their daily lives. Benign Balinese gods exist in high places such as the sky and mountains, the evil entities abound in the earth and sea, with humans in the middle realm who must balance these forces with daily offerings of flowers, sweets and rice.

A focal point of Ubud is the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary. Ancient temples dot this sizeable park and Balinese Macaques (a.k.a. long-tailed Macaques) are everywhere – they swing from tree branches, sit with splayed legs while munching chunks of coconut supplied by park attendants, or a banana treat from visitors who purchase a bunch at the entry gate. Beyond the Sanctuary we walk along winding dirt roads that lead to craft villages, each with their own specialty; from batik cloth, wood carving and paintings, to sliver jewellery.

From the dense central jungle we move outward to where the turquoise sea laps the soft sand beach of the Four Seasons Resort and Spa at Jimbaran Bay. The resort’s special evening performance of classical dancers beguiles us with intricate eye and hand movements to the sound of ancient percussion instruments.

Several kilometre from the resort is the rockin’ beach town of Kuta, where we rub elbows with surfer dudes and sun-baked bikini-clad travellers while milling about kitschy shops, and relaxing in funky cafes. We frivolously bide our time until sunset. As old Sol begins its descent, local families spread picnic suppers on blankets, tourists perch on rented lawn chairs and snack/souvenir vendors capitalize on the ever burgeoning crowd. The fiery ball slips behind the horizon leaving spectacular splashes of ruby reds, goldenrod yellows, and autumnal orange across a darkened sky.

Leaving behind the serenity and the natural beauty of the island, we concur – as far as earthly paradises go, Bali has no parallel.

Photo by Rick Butler

Transportation:

Air Asia flies from Jakarta to Bali 7 times daily; flight-time approximately 1 hr 40 min.
Or Jakarta to Bali by train/ferry or bus/ferry – if you have more time.

About the Author:
Irene Butler is an award winning travel writer and author of “Trekking the Globe with Mostly Gentle Footsteps.” Her articles have appeared in national and international magazines, newspapers and E-zines. She and her photographer husband Rick explore the world for six months of every year. www.globaltrekkers.ca