Even during the bus ride to the town, the view of the beaches began to change. High fences began to appear where the sand ended, topped with curling twines of barbed wire--the first visible signs of barriers to keep possible North Korean interlopers out. A feeling of desolation settled over me as we arrived in town in the mid-afternoon. The gray sky above probably added to some of that, but there was no doubt that Geojin was a town with a bitter past and a bleak present. It's streets could hardly be said to buzz with life and a particular quiet seemed permanently clamped down over the whole area. Rusted barbed wire fencing covered the sides of random buildings, some of them next to the sidewalk of the main street, and a few featured new barbs that had been twisted on recently enough to still maintain their silver gray color. We wandered down this main street from where the bus had dropped us and done a u-turn at its final stop and soon veered off towards the water. A military ship sat at port in the chilly breeze and as I drew my camera to take a picture some young soldiers appeared off to our side behind chain link fencing. "This is Korean Navy ship," one said in English. "No pictures."
Showing posts with label unification. Show all posts
Showing posts with label unification. Show all posts
Monday, February 27, 2012
Gangwon-do: Geojin (거진)
Heading north up the east coast from Sokcho, our next stop was the small town of Geojin. This was the furthest the the bus would take us, as Geojin is also the last town before civilization begins to quickly peter out on the final stretch to the DMZ, called hyujeonseon (휴전선). Beyond Geojin lies several museums (Hwajinpo Marine Museum, Hwajinpo History and Security Museum and a DMZ museum) as well as a Unification Observatory and Unification Security Park. In the end we would never make it to any of these, and while I don't know how grand any of those places were, I have to judge based on Geojin itself that they wouldn't be too large in scale.
Even during the bus ride to the town, the view of the beaches began to change. High fences began to appear where the sand ended, topped with curling twines of barbed wire--the first visible signs of barriers to keep possible North Korean interlopers out. A feeling of desolation settled over me as we arrived in town in the mid-afternoon. The gray sky above probably added to some of that, but there was no doubt that Geojin was a town with a bitter past and a bleak present. It's streets could hardly be said to buzz with life and a particular quiet seemed permanently clamped down over the whole area. Rusted barbed wire fencing covered the sides of random buildings, some of them next to the sidewalk of the main street, and a few featured new barbs that had been twisted on recently enough to still maintain their silver gray color. We wandered down this main street from where the bus had dropped us and done a u-turn at its final stop and soon veered off towards the water. A military ship sat at port in the chilly breeze and as I drew my camera to take a picture some young soldiers appeared off to our side behind chain link fencing. "This is Korean Navy ship," one said in English. "No pictures."
Even during the bus ride to the town, the view of the beaches began to change. High fences began to appear where the sand ended, topped with curling twines of barbed wire--the first visible signs of barriers to keep possible North Korean interlopers out. A feeling of desolation settled over me as we arrived in town in the mid-afternoon. The gray sky above probably added to some of that, but there was no doubt that Geojin was a town with a bitter past and a bleak present. It's streets could hardly be said to buzz with life and a particular quiet seemed permanently clamped down over the whole area. Rusted barbed wire fencing covered the sides of random buildings, some of them next to the sidewalk of the main street, and a few featured new barbs that had been twisted on recently enough to still maintain their silver gray color. We wandered down this main street from where the bus had dropped us and done a u-turn at its final stop and soon veered off towards the water. A military ship sat at port in the chilly breeze and as I drew my camera to take a picture some young soldiers appeared off to our side behind chain link fencing. "This is Korean Navy ship," one said in English. "No pictures."
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