Wolhwa Park was built on the land once occupied by a train line. It’s about two kilometres long and generally fifteen metres wide. I go there now and then to make photos, but I can’t seem to do much with it. —-
Because the tracks were elevated to go over the river, some of the park is also elevated. From up on high I can look down this side street to the fortune teller part of downtown. I don’t have any tilt-shift lenses, so I straightened the verticals in Lightroom. —————-
Directly on the other side of the park is a residential area. Older buildings are constantly being torn down in this part of the city, so it’s probably only a matter of time before this little neighbourhood is gone. I won’t be sorry to see it gone, but it would be nice if the poverty-era buildings were replaced with traditional Korean homes. More than likely they’ll be replaced by coffee shops. —–
This pavilion seems to be poorly visited, except for old men smoking at its base. Maybe that’s why it’s poorly visited . . . . . ———
I thought this building was a part of the park because of the landscaping leading up to the entrance. But I was informed by some litter cleaners that it’s part of a private residence. Oops. This is one of the photos I made before scurrying off. —————–
It took me a while to find a framing I was happy with and then the timing to get someone to complete the composition. ———-
In spring the city employs hordes of senior citizens to pick up litter around the city. They go by the names of “Seniors’ Club” or “Volunteer Group” and they get paid a bit of money every week. ———————————-
I’m more comfortable making photos on a tripod at historical sites than I am wandering the streets of a city, but with some practice maybe I can produce some decent photos to show people what Gangneung looks like.
Tired of visiting the same places all the time and having no car to find more distant and interesting places, I spent a bit of time on Naver Map looking over Gangneung to see if I had missed any photogenic locations in the area. I came across Namsan (South Mountain) Park which has a pavilion at the top of the hill. I’d been there one spring to see the cherry blossoms, but it’s a bad time to go for photography because there are hundreds of people there also making photographs. Some are middle-aged men with Serious Equipment looking the place over with Serious Expressions trying to get the perfect shot. Most were couples or families taking selfies with mobile phones.
After looking at the map and remembering the pavilion’s existence, I put my camera and tripod in a bag and rode my bicycle there. The park is only about three kilometres from my apartment so I arrived after ten minutes or so. It was November when I visited this time, so instead of pink blossoms on the trees, there were red, yellow, and orange leaves all over the ground. Very nice, but I was interested in making some photos of the pavilion there called Oseong Pavilion. ‘Oseong’ means ‘Five Star’, but I don’t know what the significance of that might be. The pavilion was built in 1927 by a group of men to commemorate their 60th birthdays. I couldn’t find any information about who did the calligraphy hung up around the ceiling. Maybe the fellows who had the pavilion built?
Interestingly, traditional Korean buildings don’t have nails in them. Everything fits together using grooves and joints. The weight of all that timber probably guarantees the roof won’t blow away. I like the red and green colours of Korean buildings called dancheong. You’ll find this colour scheme in pavilions, Confucian buildings, and Buddhist temples. The painting in Oseong Pavilion is quite basic, but the painting at some Buddhist temples can be very elaborate.
I thought I might be alone at the pavilion on a cool November day, but there was an older man there with a camera and a young woman looking for nice leaves on the ground. There are exercise paths on the hill and people in sports clothes were coming and going. I got a bit of exercise myself because I came up the 190 stairs on the north side of the hill. Hats off to the builders who carried all that timber up the hill in 1927.