Hongdae

“Popularity? It’s glory’s small change.”

– Victor Hugo

We are heading to Hongdae on the bikes. Hongdae is where there are bars and galleries. Where the cool people hang out.

It is a 50 km ride. The longest we have done since we toured Europe.

We sleep in, pack slowly, and are on the road by 10.00 am.

The first half of the ride is stop-start city riding. I find this frustrating at times. Shell loves the pauses at traffic lights. She takes in the sights.

The last half is fast, flat riding on the Han River bike path.

We stop for lunch at a roadside van. Toasted sandwiches and noodles.

The demographic is mixed. Young through old. I think about the West and how it wraps the elderly in cotton wool.

We cross the Mapo bridge only to find the bike elevator is out of service. It is a mighty climb down the stairs with the loaded bikes.

We decide on Bar Da. It is closed.

Shell starts looking for sunglasses, and I try to be patient. I am desperate for some hydration after a long day in the saddle.

On to Wine House. This place does everything well except for drinks. Which is its sole purpose. A poor wine list, not many beers, and not a decent cocktail anywhere. I settled on a house white, something oaked from Chile, and a gin and tonic.

YeonNam 5701 Wine & Jazz does not open until 6.30 pm, so we walk back to the rooftop bar at our place, L7 on Hongdae.

A couple of beers and some nachos, which turns out to be corn chips and dip.

“We are like sculptors, constantly carving out of others the image we long for, need, love or desire, often against reality, against their benefit, and always, in the end, a disappointment, because it does not fit them.”

– Anais Nin

We arrive at YeonNam. Down two flights of stairs into a smoky basement. Crammed in chairs, and the band is doing a sound check.

We order a bottle of Chianti. A complementary hors d’oeuvre of bread, ham, and tomato.

Fried potatoes to start. This turns out to be chips covered in bolognese. Translation issue?

For mains, steak and salmon.

The steak is perfectly cooked and comes with pommes purées. More Beurre than pommes.

The sauce for the salmon is made from mussel stock and is delicious. As are the mushrooms and the asparagus. Sadly, the salmon itself is cooked to a dry leather. Such a shame.

We head home, exhausted from the ride. We are not ride fit.

Bed. What an incredible day.

“Yet I’ve noticed the same thing when your band plays — the most amazing social coherence, as if you all shared the same brain.”
“Sure,” agreed ‘Dope’, “but you can’t call that organization.”
“What do you call it?”
“Jass.”

– Thomas Pynchon