On the first leg of my flight to Australia, I walked through Seoul’s airport, practically alone. The marble floors of an airport constructed for the Olympics appeared surgically clean and echoed my footsteps.
My first stop was Seoul Tower situated on Namsan Mountain. At nearly 240 metres, the highest point in Seoul, the huge city lay sprawled under a cloud of smog. The capital oozed traffic sounds that didn’t cease, but I stood encased in glass within this monumental landmark.
I left the tower and hiked through Namsam Garden that surrounded the tower and escaped the drone of cars. The city’s fortress wall beckoned and stretched ahead along a trail. This ancient wall had once been constructed from a variety of materials, but the stretched I walked was only stone.