Well Seasoned October - Sugar & Spice

Cruising the curvaceous mountain roads of South Korea's northeast province in Heejin's new VW Golf, sunroof open, Jason Mraz on the stereo, we three friends fled our cities and shed our stresses, and wound our way through the cayenne pepper reds, gingery oranges, and saffron yellows of Hongcheon county. With less than 48 hours to swallow up the smorgasbord of colors that the Korean fall season offers, a "girlfriends' get-away" to Gangwando province was the perfect autumn indulgence.

The spicy stained landscape gave way to our first delicious destination -- a gorgeous Gingko forest. This spectacular sight was conceived and cultivated 25 years ago when a man whose wife had become ill and bed-ridden planted 2500 Gingko trees on his property so she could watch his love for her grow into their golden years. The story goes that over the years, both the man's wife and the trees grew stronger and thus, this familial forest became a symbol of an everlasting, natural love. A heartwarming story surrounded in seasonal splendor, it gave a whole new meaning to "fall in love". It turns out that we weren't the only sentimental spectators here. Because the Gingko forest was opened to the public for the first time ever this year, we shared only a short stroll amidst the over-crowded ochre aura before sampling some other more singular sensations of the season.


Looking to spend the rest of our girlfriends' get-away as "ladies of leisure", we headed further into the hills to claim our spot at a place called Pekoe. Knowing my passion for tea, Jo had arranged not only for afternoon tea here, but also for some recreation, repasts and a room for the night. Getting right to it, Heejin and I engaged in a friendly game of badmitton; a game extremely popular with Koreans and one that I have not played since I was twelve. You might assume that she beat the birdie out of me, but you would be wrong! On a net-less court of gravel the shuttlecock shot back and forth while Jo recorded the pictures and points that proved my triumph. This cross-cultural competition of flicks, drives, kills, lobs and drops left us all parched and ready for a communal pot of tea.


Stepping inside the tea room was like turning back time and taking flight to a country cottage somewhere in Cotswolds. At the door, a fat cat perched on a velvet ottoman purred peacefully while sounds of Chopin sashayed around the skirted and lace-topped tables in the tiny room. A pristine wooden hutch filled with Wedgwood china, cobalt blue dessert cups and dotted with decorative pillar candles stood shyly against the only wall without windows. Opposite was a robust roll top desk that made the perfect self-serv coffee station, and stored stacks of board games in its cabinet below. The only way in which I was made aware that I had not actually traveled outside of this era or area was by scanning the shelves lined with paperbacks and magazines to browse and borrow and not finding one English title in the lot. Luckily, I had brought along one of my own.

After taking tea, we took to our room for a respite before dinner. Once again, the detailed decor gave me a sense of time-travel. Only this virtual venture was to a small chalet in Victorian France. Enveloped in this amethyst attic, we whiled away the l'heure bleue (twilight) talking, reading, and posing on the chaise longue as "ladies of leisure" are want to do. Only after proper preening did we emerge from our purple palace and proceed to the patio dining area for our evening meal.
I was told that we would be having a Korean bar-be-que dinner, which is a typical, if not a traditional style of dining here. However, this fall feast was an excellent example of the owners' efforts to 'fuse' a more perfect union of customs and cultures in Korea. While we sipped on an Italian red, our feet freely dangling from our chairs, a trio of common meats (pork, chicken and sausage) and their surprising sidekicks of chestnuts and flour tortillas sizzled atop a Webber grill. An individual place setting accompanied by Japanese wood chopsticks was precisely arranged in front of each of us as we silently watched the tableside preparation of our main course. When our Korean host/cook/server was satisfied the food was ready for presentation, he sank the teeth of his tongs into a plump piece of pork and holding it between the blades of his scissors, he began to shear slices of it onto each of our plates. He then explained in Korean and demonstrated in universal body language the Korean way of consuming this kind of cuisine. After covering the Webber, topping off our wine glasses and bowing away from our table, he bid us a "Bon Apetite" and disappeared into the darkness, never to be seen again (that night).

As we drove back through the kaleidescope that is the Korean autumn, we realized that while we originally set out to just get a taste of the season, we actually managed to marinade ourselves in sugar and spice and everything nice -- that's what this little girlfriends' get-away was made of.