Where it's raining cats and dogs

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Friday 16 May

We open our eyes at 10:30, surprised to wake up so late. We'd expected to need an alarm, but we thought it would be for Clémence. Asleep at 10 pm, she sank into a deep sleep, which we envied, until 4 am. Looking on the bright side, that's an hour gained on the day before! We struggle to get her out of bed and get moving quickly, as the weather isn't great. We put on our rain jackets, borrow an umbrella and brave the elements. For now it's only drizzling, and Clémence is proud to walk around with her little umbrella. In fact, we notice that every Seoulite has one too and that they don't wear rain gear — not a waterproof jacket in sight.

We take the metro and stop at a trendy café for the hot chocolate that has recently replaced Clémence's bottle. With our coffees downed too, we go into the nearby War Memorial. It's rather unusual because, unlike typical museums, it deals with a war that's still ongoing. We pass soldiers in uniform and an exhibition of military hardware. The museum itself doesn't grip us, but the place is gigantic and lively, and Clémence has great fun.

But not as much as in the War Memorial Children's Museum right next to the "adult" one. In Seoul, some museums have real spaces for little ones, and this is one. It explains the war at a child's level, with games everywhere and an arts and crafts room. It sometimes feels like propaganda, but it's great fun. We don't notice the time passing and our visiting hour is already up. Except that as we leave, we see a deluge under way, curtains of rain falling on the city. We ask permission to stay longer, which throws the receptionists. There's nobody else there apart from another couple with a child. The three of them confer and finally give us permission.

Later we seize a relative lull to run to the metro and head to another children's museum, this one attached to the National Museum of Korea. We arrive in torrential rain, running through streams of water. Although it's free, you have to go online to get a QR code to get through the gates. There are three receptionists, but they can only show us how to scan our code. After five minutes digging through the right website, we finally enter a huge play area. The link with history is vague, but how beautiful it is! The space is huge, airy, colourful, clean and full of fun activities of all kinds. We spend an hour trying out all sorts of games.

Unsurprisingly, Koreans use a lot of screens in this space, which sometimes puzzles Clémence, who hardly ever sees any. She blends in with the local little ones and doesn't seem fazed by the fact that they speak a different language. Unfortunately the place closes at 6 pm, and upbeat music invites us to leave, though we only realise it when we notice we're the only ones left. Still in pouring rain, we run back to the metro to go to Itaewon, the city's hipster and most multicultural neighbourhood.

You can tell from the slightly more colourful, relaxed clothes than elsewhere, because it has to be said that Koreans don't stand out for eccentric dress: almost all of them wear white, black or grey (the same goes for their cars). Cassandre stands out and even draws looks with her fluorescent yellow rain jacket and orange shoes. Clearly you're not supposed to stray too far from the norm. Clémence falls asleep in the backpack, sheltered by the umbrella, as we walk around the neighbourhood in a fine rain. We sit down in a restaurant, Eid Halal Korean Food, put her down next to us and take the opportunity to eat local dishes: bibimbap and bulgogi. The smell must whet Clem's appetite, as she wakes up and devours an adult portion. We can take the metro back and head calmly to the hotel to end a busy day.

Saturday 17 May

Despite the tempting photos and good reviews on booking sites, our accommodation isn't ideal. We're already suffering from jet lag, and on top of that there's constant noise from midnight, just when Clémence crashes. We get to sleep late in the night, and it's the alarm that opens our eyes. Once again we have to struggle to wake the little one and get out quickly for breakfast in our neighbourhood.

A little bakery sits on a street corner; we sit down and order, but we've forgotten one detail: Koreans drink their coffee cold, drowned in ice. We did say we wanted it hot, but it can't have been clear enough. The waitress apologises profusely and comes back with two big steaming americanos. All three of us feast on pains au chocolat and croissants.

Clémence has already learned to say thank you in Korean, which surprises and amuses people a lot. She also now knows we're staying in Mapo and proudly tells us as we go down the metro steps: "Daddy, Mummy, this is Mapo station." To get around we use the Korean app Naver, the equivalent of Google Maps. The American company isn't allowed to fully map the streets, which makes it less practical. In the metro, Naver tells us which carriage to stand in to optimise connections and which exit to take at our destination depending on where we want to go.

It's by following its instructions and coming out of the metro at Gwanghwamun that we stumble on a taekwondo competition. Not fights but artistic performances scored by a jury. The children's technique is impressive: they fly through the air breaking little stone tiles while following choreographed routines. It captivates us and Clémence, but we need to move on to Gyeongbokgung, a 14th-century royal palace. We're surprised by the price: under €2 per adult. Generally in Seoul, activities are cheap and many cultural spaces are free. The palace and its gardens are huge, the equivalent of a small Versailles. Clémence couldn't care less and prefers making little hills with sand wherever she finds some.

To counter her boredom, we head for the children's museum (yet again), next to the Folk Museum. We try to book online and see it's full, but we figure it costs nothing to ask. Lucky us: the lady lets us in, and we discover a small, very well-designed space with lots of choice. As in the previous museums, staff are constantly on hand to tidy things up and correct any inappropriate little behaviour.

We eat traditional dishes at the foot of the old village of Bukchon. It's made up of hanok, traditional Korean houses that have survived the passage of time. As expected, the place is overrun with tourists dressed in hanbok, the traditional Korean clothing you can rent by the hour or day. Wearing it gets you free entry to several famous sites. It feels a bit like strolling through Disneyland, and we even have to weave between everyone taking photos. We try to get away from the crowds, but it's hard, so we'd rather leave, unconvinced that it's a must-see.

Now it's time for an activity for Clémence: a big outdoor playground. She has great fun and we really appreciate these moments, because we can feel she's happy. She plays on her own or comes to get us, grabbing our hand: "Come with me, Mummy!" Unfortunately the clouds look threatening, and we need to find nappies anyway. Strangely, they're quite hard to find in Seoul, and we end up in a huge 12-storey shopping centre, wandering around for twenty minutes before finally finding what we need to change our child. You can tell the birth rate is in the doldrums in this country.

After stopping at the hotel to shower and change, we head back to Itaewon, which we really liked yesterday despite the rain. The neighbourhood is buzzing, especially in the evening and at night, full of alleys on a hill with winding staircases snaking in every direction. Clémence loves the flashy lights and wanders along with her little umbrella, charming everyone we pass. We sit down in a tiny Korean-Vietnamese restaurant with only three tables. We eat pho and excellent braised pork ribs before going for a walk to soak up a bit more of the area. We come across a very lively street, clearly the equivalent of Bourbon Street in New Orleans or Paris's rue de la Soif. There are bars, nightclubs, music everywhere and people slowly getting tipsy. This is where people go out in Seoul, but that life is behind us. Clémence climbs back into the backpack, we take the metro home and she collapses into bed after another day in which she amazed us.