During my weeklong media fast (post here) I was lucky enough to have my husband all to myself for the entirety of a weekday on Veteran's Day. We crossed off "Climb Bukhan Mountain" off our to-do list that day.
We slept in until a reasonable hour and then with a backpack on [his] back, hiking shoes tied tight, we leisurely made our way over. We stopped to pick up a few rolls of kimbap at the base of the mountain to indulge in after our ascent.
It started off like a stroll in the park and I even mentally patted myself on the back: "Grace, this isn't bad at all. Good job! You must be in better shape that you had expected!" But I had spoke too soon. Only then was I quickly met with the strenuous latter half. Cold hands and grumbling heart, I had no choice but to go onwards and upwards. A selfie was taken to serve as evidence that "We were here".
There was something enlightening about being at the "highest point" in Seoul - 836 meters high, overlooking the city - high-rises appeared like legos and childhood memories. The quiet provided a moment to breathe in nature, palatial and lovable, and to dream big for this land and for me.