Elements: Jiufen, Taiwan

Jiufen is an old mining town in Taiwan and is famous for a traditional old retail street.  The street is a market that winds down narrow alleys, giving it a souq-like atmosphere.

On the weekends, the amount of people visiting gives it a feel like you’re in Downtown Disney – packed full of people walking in either direction, not exactly leisurely.

But it’s famous for a reason.  The elevation and its placement on the hillside also gives you charming, wonderful vistas like this one.

round-trip-jiufen-shuttle-bus-from-taipei-in-taipei-393436.jpg

So much so, that it was reportedly an inspiration for Miyazaki’s Spirited Away.  You might see the resemblance.

What is the essential element of this place that gives it magic?

1.  The stairways and elevation changes give it a lot of charm.  You don’t know what’s around the corner, and you have a lot of views that are uncommon.

IMG_0930

2.  Red lanterns: lighting is huge, and by stringing these everywhere, basically it gives the night market a special glow.  Warm, inviting, a little magical.  Lighting can be a huge signature, and you can really see the difference here when you compare the market during the day versus the evening.  So simple.

img_0997.jpg

3.  Vibrant tenant mix.  I’ve consulted on a lot of projects where clients try to artificially create this kind of retail entertainment.  There’s nothing wrong with that, but usually where projects like this fail, is that everyone spends time on creating an incredibly fantastic, magical environment and less time on the actual substance of the place – it’s great to have spectacular surroundings, but what will people actually end up doing?

Shopping, eating, being entertained – and that is delivered by the individual tenants themselves.  Ensuring a vibrant, authentic, sometimes irreverent tenant mix is the absolute key.

If you really think about it, and decompose Jiufen into its elements, that last one is really the secret to its success.  There’s nothing so crazy about stringing up red lanterns, or narrow alleys.  But the reason it’s like Disneyland on a summer weekend, with a crush of people walking in either direction, is because of the combination of all three of those elements.

The other place I’ve seen this is in Hongyadong, in Chongqing, which is arguably more fantastic and magical looking than Jiufen.  You can take the whole sight of Hongyadong in, at a glance, but you can’t put the architecture or structures of it into any category.  You can’t even tell where it starts or stops, or what anything even is.  It’s hands down the craziest piece of real estate I’ve ever seen.  Below:

Capture.PNG

Do yourself a favor and Google ‘hongyadong’.  It’s really one of the most insane structures I’ve ever seen.

And inside, it’s much of the same.  Chongqing is a hilly city, and you need to climb narrow winding stairs to get anywhere.  Once inside, you’re greeted by a crush of people, restaurants, shops, like you’ve arrived at a magical floating island.

Back to Jiufen.  Teahouses are one of the essential places to visit in Jiufen.  And there’s a lot to be said about Chinese teahouses.

This is the one we visited in Jiufen.

IMG_0926

img_0995.jpg

IMG_0992

IMG_0971

IMG_0991

The apothecary-like counter and cabinets holding a variety of teas, accessories, paraphernalia imbues the place with a special, bespoke touch.  You get the feeling they’re sifting through all these pots and bottles for the tea that you and you alone ordered, mixing it in the exact proportions right for you.  They possess an arcane knowledge of teas, the depths of which are mysterious and a world to be explored.

The teapots on the counter look industrious.  You get the feeling that something is always brewing 🙂

IMG_0968

img_0979.jpg

IMG_0989

The individual seat compartments are divided by dark woods and stone, and spaced at perfect intervals.  Solid, subdued materials surround you and invite quiet contemplation.

One day I’d like to develop such a place, but it’ll be one dedicated to chocolate.

What I’ve Seen in China

Spending time in China is enough to convince you that you know nothing about it.

  • There is no architecture quite like the public architecture of the Communist Party.  Roads and sidewalks are massive, supposedly wide enough to drive tanks through.  The railroad stations are simply just the largest buildings I’ve ever seen or been in, looking like you could fly an A380 through them.  Government buildings are fronted by sidewalks that are like stadiums.  It communicates authority.  The scale is hard to comprehend if you’ve never been there.
  • The power of the state, in terms of it being manifested, is intermittent but ubiquitous.  After 950 AQI readings (~20 is healthy) on the air quality scale in Beijing, you can count on the next day being completely crystal blue.  How does this happen, is there a natural way?  It’s as if the air itself was reprimanded by the inner sanctum of the CCCP and told about the errors of its ways.
  • Blue skies are not taken for granted.  I once had a taxi driver take me from the airport in Chongqing to my hotel, and for the entire thirty minutes he was exclaiming loudly about how clear and blue the skies were, sticking his head out of the window, looking up, and yes – all while driving.  The air is indeed noxious, and during days when the readings are, say, above 300, visibility on the streets are as if you’re driving through fog.  Above 500, heavy fog.  Above 700, like you’re in a cloud.  The romantic side of me, on these days, can’t help but imagine myself back in London during the Industrial Revolution, or Chicago during the age of the railroads.  It must be what those cities were like: swarming seas of people, raucous roads, barely contained chaos, buildings rising impossibly fast, out of nowhere.
  • Is there another economy that has so many feverish booms and busts, in so compressed a timeframe?  Bubbles roil through the property market, then stock market, then private wealth products market, not necessarily in that order, but predictably every few years.  Technology companies are the same.  Two years ago, I started noticing a lot of green, orange, and yellow bikes on the road, with bike-sharing becoming huge there, way before it did anywhere else in the world.  A few months later, I saw entire sidewalks become parking lots for these bikes.  They were everywhere, the streets were filled with them.  A few months later still, I saw empty lots full of these bikes, rusting and old, unattended.  A few months later, I came back and saw nearly all of the bikes gone, and read that a lot of the companies had gone bankrupt.
  • Parts of the large cities – Shanghai, Shenzhen, Beijing – are more expensive, posh, and futuristic than equivalent places in London, Hong Kong, or New York.  And I will assume that they will only get even more so.
  • The line cutting is maddening and annoying.
  • But I can emphathize with some of it, as it is less a personal act of discourtesy, and more a symptom of an everyone-for-themselves, distrust of rules and the state that leads people to have this interesting mentality that there are rules and laws, there are taboos, and there are absolutely forbidden things that you must never do, and the intersection of those three things are like a Venn diagram – they are not one and the same.  I.e., everyone seems to use a VPN to access all the ‘forbidden’ websites, even at work, no one actually uses the metal detector machines in the subways, queues are optional, and most confoundingly to foreigners – contracts really don’t mean anything.
  • People are honest and straightforward.  They will tell you to your face that you look tired or if you’re fat, or if you need to eat.  In restaurants, you can regularly ask for things not on the menu.  You can ask and talk about anything, and people will tell you, as long as you avoid the subjects of Tibet and Taiwan.  Sometimes when we do market research, we literally go to our competitors and ask their frontline staff about stuff.  For a North/East Asian country, refreshingly informal and with a language devoid of hierarchy and formality.
  • When I first went to China, back in the winter of 2010, there was barely even a smartphone market.  I remember buying a used Nokia with a monochrome screen and using that.  Now just 7 years later, almost the entire population is on WeChat, which is a portal for everything from taxis, medical services, banking, and other payments.  Merchants in the middle of rural villages in China will prefer taking your cash over your credit card, but WeChat payments trump all.  In 2010, I remember my classmates telling me there was a huge difference between kids born in the late 80s and kids born in the 90s.  It was a seven-year difference we were talking about.  Now, you could probably feasibly move those endpoints to the 90s and aughts, and there would be even more of a generation gap still – think about it, two degrees of a generation gap in 20 years.
  • The resultant optimism, though, is refreshing.  This is a country that hasn’t had a major recession in twenty years – economic growth has always rounded to 10%.  Can you imagine that?  It means that everyone is down to try new things.  They’re figuring it out.  There’s no established tradition that needs to be followed, but nor are there established best practices.  In my field, it means that clients sometimes ask for – and expect – insane things that have never worked in the history of the world.  I’ve driven through 2nd and 3rd tier cities to the edge of the city, through rural villages, and then come face to face with resorts on the scale of Dubai.  I’ve driven deep into the mountains and seen waterslides and retail malls that wouldn’t be out of place in Orlando.  I’ve spelunked through entire cities where they built something, and no one showed up – yet.  To be clear, many of these insane projects and endeavors are destined for the dust-bin of history, but the risk-taking and dice-rolling is something to marvel at.
  • There seems to be no established dress code at most of the offices I visit.  Women wear skirts that are shorter than sexy nurse Halloween costumes, and tops that look like bright foliage.  Men wear business casual, loosely interpreted, like rocker boots and hawaiian shirts and whatever it is, it’s untucked.  Everyone is on their own phone during meetings.  Sometimes people answer their own phone during meetings and whisper into it without any repercussions from others.  Business cards were a thing for a few years, but it’s gone straight to WeChat.  Government officials will add you as contacts on WeChat and then send you funny memes.
  • It’s changing rapidly.  And on this note, a lot of the criticisms leveled against Chinese tourists abroad – rude, dismissive of lines, loud and obnoxious, pushy – I recall as things I thought about Koreans about 20 years ago.  Koreans of a certain age, say 50s, will fit this stereotype.  Social norms change and I can see them changing in China too.  Younger people have been abroad, studied abroad, and bring mores and expectations back home.

Basically, it’s growing at an exponential pace and everything you know about it now, will be wrong tomorrow.

If you are interested in the evolution of cultures, the study of cities, if you’re interested in seeing an economy and society change, if you’re interested in history or curious about what the future might look like, visit China.  Don’t miss it.

Elements: Hakone, Japan

Before Hakone, we were in Ginza.  Ginza is the quietest retail high street you’ll ever encounter in the world.  This is the 5th Ave/Rodeo Drive of Tokyo but you can carry on conversations at a whisper.  And the lights, all muted.  True class.

IMG_1233.jpg

A centuries-old ryokan.  It practically looks like the building has grown out of the same soil as the trees around it, the way it’s blended in so well.

IMG_1102

The ryokan where we stayed.  Simple wood, polished by decades (centuries?) of guests walking over it.  The wood creaked and bent – almost bounced – under your step.  I’d never had that feeling of walking on wood before, with so much give.

IMG_5938

The warm lighting in the hallway across this garden really makes this scene.  This was in the dead of winter, and it looks like the building promises warm hearths and fresh, hot tea for a traveler that’s come a long way.

IMG_5940

It’s hard to describe why the below scene affected me so much.  To the right of here is a shrine, and that red torii gate is the threshold to the sacred space.

As you stand here, the sun bursts through the crack in the trees in just the right way to light the moss verdantly.  The wind rustles the leaves gently and they sound like palms rubbing together, some sort of reverential gesture.  You have the sense that this space, which if you were in a hurry and passed by it looks completely ordinary – what with the street signs and electric wires – was hallowed.

And why was it hallowed?  Because of the torii gate?  The way the sun hit the trees?

Or maybe because the combination of all these things made you just stop.  Stop, and recognize the sacred or hallowed in the ordinary, which is the whole point of shinto and a core part of the Japanese aesthetic.

IMG_6026

There were very few things in the courtyard/garden of this temple.  But for some reason they looked artfully arranged.  I don’t know why the whole scene was so beautiful.  It just is.  The fact that the grounds were completely silent helped.

IMG_5965

IMG_5957

But maybe the point of the space, with very few things in it, is precisely that there is space.

The space brings into greater relief the objects that are in the courtyard, like the bell and the beautiful trees.

Also, the space seems meaningful.  The space allows for things to grow, like the moss.  It provides space for the steps to the shrine.  It provides space for you to move through it.  The space is deliberately there, without space things cannot grow or develop or move.

IMG_5970

Elsewhere in Hakone, this was a restaurant.  And after eating there, you pass through this portal on your way out to the real world again.  The way this dark entryway framed the winter scene outside was astounding.  It wouldn’t have worked, I think, if the distance of this passage were any longer or shorter.

IMG_5911

I just love how these trees are gnarled with character.  Although the branches ended up growing in one general direction, they twisted and took corkscrew paths to get there.  It’s about the journey.

IMG_6024.jpg

A Real Estate Career: Lessons Learned (2012-2015)

It’s weird the things that stick with you.  For the next few years, I worked three full-time jobs at a time.  I was in full execution mode as a property tax agent, international theme park consultant, and commercial property agent – and I don’t remember much about the period.

When I look back, I think it’s because I wasn’t growing.

There was little new to the jobs.  I was just executing on processes I had put in place years earlier.  I had become proficient, an ‘expert’.  And so the result was that financially, they were some of my peak earning years, but overall I’m not sure it was that fulfilling.

If you can find jobs where you get paid handsomely for personal growth, now that’s the holy grail.

But there were a few things that stuck with me.

I had a client who was an ex-Drexel Burnham Lambert banker.  He predated Michael Milken give/take by a decade, and had apparently made so much money that there was nothing else to do with it but plow it into real estate.

He worked out of one of his apartment properties in Brentwood, in a ground floor office strewn with papers and newspaper clippings.  He was in his 70s and his main tactic in any negotiation or even discussion was to immediately pretend he was slow.

Whenever you began speaking, he would tilt his head and look at you curiously before responding with a set of ‘is that right’s and ‘you don’t say’s.  He didn’t say much, but you could tell he was processing everything.  With so much office space all around LA, he offered free space to young brokers as a way of being plugged into deal flow.  Essentially, to listen.  He was always listening.  Sometimes his ‘you don’t say’s were sarcastic, as if he couldn’t keep listening to our stupidity anymore, but he was always listening.

We had another client who was a movie mogul.  Over a few decades, he had opened a regional chain of movie theaters and plowed the proceeds into real estate.  And about a mile down from our office, he owned 25 condos in the heart of Redondo Beach.  We brought him multiple offers on the property.  $18 million.  $20.  $22.  But he wouldn’t budge for less than his number, which was a million dollars per unit.

And although we had clients who probably would have bit at $22, he didn’t.  Something about his patience struck me, sitting in his office modeled after a miniature theater, cracking a grin at each new offer we brought him, and sitting back, a picture of consummate contentment, and telling us, if we could please try to get a higher number.

Years later, he was proved right.  Actually, the value of his condos probably exceeded a million dollars a unit.

The thing that both these clients had in common were that both owned and controlled more than $100 million in properties, each, both were well into retirement age, and both arrived at their offices at the crack of dawn.

This is just a sample.  There are people like this all over the country, all over the world.  It was just another lesson about wealth.  In so many ways, wealth is not the goal.

I wanted to be like them.  It would be nice to have the level of wealth they did, but I’m talking about their working for the purpose of their work itself.  And having a purpose that made them work harder than people half their age.

No doubt, it’s what made them great.

Then we had another client.  She had emerged as a buyer for another client’s property in Hermosa.

She made us work.

Among other things we had to do to close the deal, we had to chase down people to get them to sign estoppels.  The existing owner didn’t want to do it, because he preferred to be liked more than he preferred to sell the building.

This meant we had to camp out in front of all 12 units and try to get the tenants to sign a document verifying that they were paying, exactly what the rent rolls said they were paying.

Naturally, a lot of them were suspicious.  Was the new owner going to kick them out?  Was she going to convert the apartment into condos?  They were nervous.

No, no, I answered confidently.  I reassured them there was nothing to worry about, that the new owner had no intention of redeveloping.

But there was something else I had forgotten about.

After dragging the deal across the finish line, I felt a sense of relief as we pulled up to the new owner’s $10 million house in Palos Verdes, with a tennis court in the back.  In the living room, she proudly showed us a rent roll of the $80 million portfolio she managed, from her living room.

And later, she even more triumphantly emailed us to say that she had doubled rents, because the previous owner had been undercharging.

It left me with a bad taste for these kinds of deals and people in general.  All part of the industry, but I couldn’t help but think that while knocking on doors to get those estoppels, I had led some of those people astray.  Some of them, kids younger than I was.

It turned out to be my last deal there.  That, combined with the diminishing fortunes of the property tax appeal business, a countercyclical business if there ever was one, led me to other things.

One last reflection about wealth.  I spent half this time period in Hong Kong.

And in Hong Kong, a summer rite is the boat trip.  On the weekends the waters around Hong Kong and its myriad islands teem with junks and yachts that anchor off a secluded beach, then descend into drunken orgy-level partying.

One of our friends was dating a guy who was as close as you could get to Hong Kong royalty.  He was the scion of a billionaire tycoon, which made him one himself, but you wouldn’t know it to meet him.  Well-educated, low-key, soft-spoken, there is no way you could pick him out in a lineup, as is often the case with billionaires.

Anyway, this weekend we had use of his dad’s yacht.  For seven of us, a uniformed staff perhaps double that number helped us board, navigated, helpfully pointed out the amenities, cooked us a hot lunch, and generally gave us the kind of five-star service you would expect from what was basically a floating villa, way larger than my childhood homes, combined.

After anchoring, there are only a few things you can do.  We rode jet-skis.  We bounced off of inflatables.  Some of us read a book on the upper deck.  Some of us just floated in the water.

Which is what I did.  Bobbing, I could see all the other boats around us.  Some of them were like us.

Splendid, sleek yachts.  Barely any people on them, though.  There were kids on some of the nicer yachts, towards the front, and they looked bored out of their minds.

And, the people on the nice yachts were all looking in the same direction I was, which was towards the bacchanal boats, the ones thumping music that could be heard hundreds of feet away, with the people backflipping off the upper rails, doing keg stands, sliding headfirst and belly up down makeshift slides into the water, floating around the boat suspiciously in pairs.

Of course sometimes it’s nice to be alone.  But also sometimes I think that with great wealth comes great isolation.

I noticed this during my brokerage days in LA.  Sometimes it seemed like our richest clients called…just to talk.  Or when we went out in Hollywood – there is type of person, usually male, who buys drinks for everyone, is exceedingly generous, talks a lot, is best friends with everyone at the bar, is also exceedingly rich, and then at some point during the night…leaves alone in a nice car.

In the summers in LA, you can ride a bike from Venice Beach down to Redondo.  Over the course of 15 miles, the crowd changes.  Rowdy and larger up around Venice and El Segundo, Playa del Rey, huge barbeques with organized beach football games.  Then you reach the $10 million houses (at least) in the South Bay, along the Strand.  Nice organized picnics going on, some beach volleyball games, more individual, more rich, smaller.  Sometimes just a guy on the upper balcony of his home sipping coffee and looking out over the ocean.  Of course in some of the houses in between were always some frat antics going on, but still.  Richer, more individual.  In many ways, more alone, although there’s nothing wrong with alone.

But, now why is that?

Elements – Bangkok Mall Edition

In my opinion, the best malls in the world are in Dubai, Seoul, and Bangkok.  What do I mean by ‘best’?  Good tenant mixes, amenities, facilities, and above all, retail experiences that don’t feel like typical malls.  They feel like other worlds.

Bangkok’s malls are the best in the world in terms of design.  The city itself is underrated in terms of design.

My favorite space here is the 6th floor of the Central Embassy mall and I’ve pasted in a gratuitous amount of images for it below.  The floor is a food hall/market + bookstore.  It also hosts a kids cafe, “co-thinking” space, and a cinema at one of its far ends.

IMG_0333

IMG_0345

The detail on the ceilings.  The interspersed foliage.  The lighting, especially under the shelves.  The lighting of the wood panels and under the bars.  The color of the wood.

This section where I’m standing in the below picture is the ‘out-of-print’ section and houses antique and rare books.  The fact that they dedicated an entire wall to this…well, thank you.

IMG_0325

The “co-thinking” space.
IMG_0326

IMG_0327IMG_0323

This is what the Central Embassy looks like from the outside.  Outside, the design is just as gratuitous as it is inside.  Not gratuitous in the sense of frivolous or excessive, but gratuitous, as in overdelivering beyond expectations.  If you go there, don’t miss the other food court in the basement, which might also be one of the best food courts in the world.

IMG_4618

Pictures of other mall/retail spaces.  A futuristic, space-age apothecary, just a typical perfume and fragrances counter.

IMG_4693

The men’s-wear section in the same mall.

IMG_4692

The rest of that mall.  Again, gratuitous.  I wish there was a better word than that connoting overdelivery, but that’s what these malls are.  You cannot calculate a direct ROI on spending money on design like this.  But the malls in Bangkok do it anyway, and for that, I feel gratitude.

IMG_4691IMG_4698

Standing on the ground level, I like how you can clearly see all three floors above you have a distinct character and pattern.

IMG_4704

Food courts of the world are in general moving towards the food market/hall concept, which makes it look more authentic – food carts and kiosks arranged over the floor like they arrived there organically.  But probably outside of Bangkok, you cannot get decent, filling meals for less than $3, like you can here.

 

IMG_4713IMG_4708

 

 

 

Things Korea Does Well

Underappreciated things about an already underappreciated country.

  • Korea is a textiles manufacturing powerhouse.  In most places in Asia, markets will sell a lot of cheap clothing.  But here, the off-price stuff sold for $3 or $5 in the subway stations comes from manufacturers who, on the other side, are making stuff for Patagonia, Zara, Nike, etc.  The Dongdaemun night market (wholesale clothing market, open to everyone) is literally the definition of a fast fashion nerve center, stocking retailers around the country every night (literally, retailers from all over Korea come to shop here starting at midnight to stock inventory for the next day), with production runs and test clothing that run in the single digits.  In common terms, this just means – bring an empty suitcase and load up on quality, off-brand, no brand outerwear – and innerwear.  Every subway station usually has a ‘sock store’ selling nothing more than socks for less than a dollar.
  • A lot of underappreciated and unknown ‘health’ food.  Korean traditional cuisine stems from a philosophy that food is medicine and vice versa.  While meat (Korean BBQ, fried chicken) gets all the attention, herbs, vegetables, and roots, usually served pickled, are staples of every meal.  Things like bean sprouts, Korean thistle, burdock, sesame leaves, pepper leaves, thorny ash, mallow, bellflower roots, not to mention mountain herbs for which there is no proper common translation, like Korean pimpinella, ainsliaea, ragwort, bog rhubarb, Korean angelica, sedum, etc. etc.  The list goes on and on; Koreans pickle anything that can be picked.  Not to say that all food in Korea is healthy, that’s far from the case, but a typical traditional meal is fairly well-balanced.  Some sort of fermented stew, served with a variety of pickled vegetables and herbs, carbs in the form of rice or noodles, and meat in the form of fish or pork.
  • An unbelievable cafe culture.  Koreans binge drink coffee the same way they binge drink alcohol, which if you think about it, might be a yin and yang phenomenon, with one not possible without the other.  The multitude of, and staggering variety of cafes and coffeeshops on every corner is mind-blowing.  Cafes and coffeeshops that serve alcohol alongside their coffee, dessert-specialty coffeeshops, coffeeshops that specialize only in giant portions, coffeeshops and cafes of every imaginable theme and configuration possible.  They say to show, not tell, and to do that, I suggest you just Google “Korean cafes” or “coffeeshops” on Google or Youtube.
  • This one is an element of Korea that I don’t think Koreans realize yet.  If Koreans didn’t spend all their time just studying, and their early to mid 20s in an insane cycle of work & drinking all-nighters, there would be more world-class athletes in every field from here.  I was part of two different gyms here, and having trained extensively in both the US and Asia, I will say that the number of physical specimens and giants in Korea is surprisingly high.  But years of study and atrophying behind a desk means that they don’t know it yet.  Also, the terrible diet and drinking doesn’t help.  This might be the only country I’ve trained where guys regularly smoke before and after workouts, and come in smashed from the night before.  And for the latter, I don’t mean young guys in youthful partying mode.  I mean salarymen in their 30s and 40s.
  • Lastly, Korea is a convenient country.  Things are efficient, quick, available.  Convenience, and a culture of service stems from its homogeneous society.  I’ll just point back to an earlier article I wrote about this.

Neighborhood Guide: Jamsil, Seoul

This is where we’ve been living for the last year and a half.  Jamsil is a great neighborhood, semi-suburban and somewhat under the radar.  If it wasn’t for the tendency of Seoul real estate prices to move in inexplicable step-wise functions, as it did in the past six months, we would have bought a place here, especially next to the amazing Olympic Park.

But we’re saying farewell to it this week, and in commemoration, I’d like to present some of my favorite places.

As some background, Jamsil (蚕室) is, for those who read Chinese characters, derived from the characters meaning mulberry tree + hall.  Silkworms feast exclusively on mulberry trees, which Jamsil used to be filled with, which made the area one of the two main silk farms for the royal court during the Joseon dynasty.

But, because of frequent flooding, the area became disused.  Over the past century, land has been gradually reclaimed but random sinkholes often appear in the district.

There’s even more history to it than that.  The Baekje dynasty (ca. 18 BCE to 660 AD) made this area the seat of their kingdom.

If you look closely at those dates, you’ll note that the Baekje dynasty goes back even further than the Joseon dynasty, whose palaces are in central Seoul, and are far more publicized and famous.  I don’t know if what I’m about to share below even get mentioned in guidebooks.

Now, Baekje was founded by princes from the Goguryeo kingdom, and both are descended from the horseback archers/nomadic tribes of Northeastern Asia, or Manchuria if you will.

What’s relevant here is that the Baekje capital was located right here and you can still see the tops of its walls, in Pungnaptoseong.

IMG_8372

Decades ago, they didn’t realize what this wall really was, and built a village in it.  You can see the tops of its buildings on the right side of the above picture.  After discovering they had literally built the new village on the top of an ancient capital, new development has been restricted, leading to consternation on the part of the residents.

At Olympic Park, not too far away, you can see the reserve palace, where the royal family retreated when Pungnaptoseong was under attack.  This one is called Mongchontoseong, and is directly in the middle of the park.

IMG_8386

These are earthen ramparts, and not natural hills.  It’s hard to grasp exactly how high they appear, but to get an idea of how high these walls were:

2018-06-27 11.44.30.jpg

Jamsil is probably most famous among tourists for being the location of Lotte World, the indoor theme park, and the Lotte World Tower, Korea’s tallest building.  Lotte basically owns two city blocks filled with three shopping malls, an office tower, a department store, a few hypermarkets, and an underground shopping center connecting it all.

Lotte World Mall is actually a complex of two different malls; one the mall itself, and the other the super luxe Avenue L.  Right now, along with the Starfield malls by Shinsegae, these are probably among the best malls in Asia.  Best, meaning, largest, with the best tenant mix, best amenities & concierge service, top of the line facilities.

Right next to the Lotte World Mall is an entire city block dedicated to nightlife.  In the picture below, you can see the shaded area in the red circle reading “방이동 먹자골목”: Bangi-dong Tasty Alley.  

In my experience though, the tasty street actually starts closer to the main road, at the right/east edge of the red circle – and is a larger area than the lake, Lotte World Tower, Lotte World Mall, and Avenue L just west of it, combined.

Picture1.png

IMG_8460.JPG

This is the thing about Korea: all the tasty stuff, all the round-the-clock entertainment, is secluded kind of like the inner courtyard of a riad, a street or two removed from the main street.

This is why some people say Korea is boring.  It’s either because they’re looking in the wrong places or because they don’t have people taking them to these places.

IMG_9568IMG_9567IMG_9566IMG_8782

“Alley” doesn’t begin to describe the magnitude of this district.  Restaurants, cafes, arcades, karaoke rooms, bars, saloons, and clubs.  Some of these shops are open for lunch.  Very few though.  The main operating hours are from dusk to dawn.

Lastly, my favorite place, which was next to our apartment, is the Jangmi Shopping Center Underground.  This is an underground market that’s been around for over 40 years, and a treasure that will probably be razed, redeveloped, and erased in the next decade.  That’s just what Korea tends to do.

Part food market, part restaurant hall, the B1 floor is a time capsule into Korea of the 1970s-1980s.  I remember shopping at places like this with my grandmother about 25-30 years ago, until the place like this by my grandma’s house was razed, redeveloped, erased, and turned into something far more shiny.

The food merchants here are a hybrid of retail and wholesale.  They sell in bulk, to restaurants and other merchants, but offer their wares to walk-ins too.  You can pick up enough banchan for a feast for less than $10-20.  The restaurants here are standard Korean fare – lots of typical comfort food in the form of rice rolls, spicy pork-topped rice, hangover stews, fish cakes, chicken ginseng soup, donkatsu, shaved ice, and ubiquitous coffeeshops.

This is where the good stuff is.  Don’t be intimidated, and don’t miss it.  You can get good meals here for $5-7.

img_9901.jpgimg_9902.jpgIMG_9903IMG_9904IMG_9906

IMG_9565IMG_9564