An introduction to the trip
Even though South Korea is definitely in fashion, it wasn't necessarily at the top of our wish list. The K-wave hadn't really reached us, although we hugely admire the little peninsula's cinema. It was rather a desire that grew gradually, from a fairly simple observation at first. We had our eye on Japan, but the plane tickets were prohibitive. So we had the idea of looking at Korea. In doing so, and looking at OpenCycleMap, beautiful red lines seemed to cross the whole country.
For the uninitiated, red lines on OpenCycleMap (or OpenStreetMap in cycling mode) mean national routes. And so simple red lines turn into lines of desire. What? A completely protected cycle route runs from Seoul to Busan along the rivers? Hey, another one runs up the east coast along the Sea of Japan? Day by day, the desire grows and then takes shape.
South Korea, like Japan and East Asian countries generally, is a nation where cycling is widespread. It's hard to picture from the West, as we rarely see professional cyclists from this part of the world. Personal blogs and specialist websites also reassure us that such a trip is feasible with a three-year-old girl.
After the technical research comes finding plane tickets. When you don't live in Paris but elsewhere in France, it's often a headache. After looking at every option from Avignon, even Barcelona or Geneva, the simplest is still to fly from Marseille. We could have taken the train to Roissy, but the difficulty of putting bikes on French high-speed trains instantly rules that out.
The logistics of flying
Once the tickets are found, we still need to find boxes for the bikes. We spent hours looking for information on what we could and couldn't do. Once everything is ready at Cassandre's parents', we still wonder whether all will go well at Marseille airport. Is the buggy-trailer supposed to go free? Yes, it goes through. Do the bike boxes count as checked luggage with Korean Air? Ouch, there's a snag. The ground agent isn't aware, but we show him screenshots; he calls someone to check, hangs up and tells us "you're right", which reassures us.
All our luggage goes through the oversized baggage desk; we wrap it, off it goes on the belt, and suddenly we have almost nothing left to carry. One bike pannier with spare clothes, a backpack to carry Clémence and that's about it. We say an emotional goodbye to Cassandre's parents, thanking them for their help, then go through boarding. Everything goes smoothly; Clémence enjoys watching the planes take off and land, then we board ours, heading for Amsterdam.
A two-hour stopover there, then we board a bigger plane to Seoul. It's already 9 pm, and we hope our little one will fall asleep quickly, as the seven-hour time difference is likely to be hard to manage. Unfortunately the meals are slow to come, the lights are still on and the cabin is in full swing. Around midnight the lights finally dim, but Clémence struggles to fall asleep, and so do we. She finally drops off during the night, but it's a restless sleep, as the space isn't ideal. Still, she stays in Morpheus's arms almost until landing. It's 9:30 am in France, 4:30 pm here, and we're in South Korea!
First steps in the Land of the Morning Calm
We were far more daring before becoming parents. Here, the prospect of an odyssey on public transport with two 25-kilo bike boxes, a trailer, bags and a tired three-year-old strangely cooled our enthusiasm. For comfort we booked a van, and for the first time in our lives, someone is waiting for us at arrivals holding a sign with our name. With all the luggage in the vehicle, we can relax a little: everything went well. Our hotel is at the top of a very steep hill and plunges us straight into the atmosphere. Mapo isn't very touristy and is a bit out of the way, but we needed a room big enough for the three of us and our three pieces of luggage. So the Han River Guesthouse will do for a week.
Once the bags are put away and we've washed, we go straight out to wander around the neighbourhood. We also secretly hope the outing will tire Clémence enough for her to sleep through the night. It's 7:30 pm, so 12:30 pm for our bodies. We look for a restaurant, and after several failed attempts we go into a tiny eatery. The menu is of course in Korean and an app's translation doesn't help much, so we order two dishes at random, not forgetting to say we don't eat spicy food, as Koreans spice almost everything by default. While eating, a doubt creeps in, and after a bit more research it turns out we're enjoying (because it's very good) pork tripe. We have a good laugh, as we'd never have chosen it had we known, but the experience of the tiny restaurant is worth it. We then head back to the guesthouse, as Clémence is tired and falls asleep very quickly — by then it's 11 pm.