The City of Seoul.

Manawatu Herald, 24 March 1904, Page 3

The City of Seoul.

Seoul, the capital of Cho-sen, is built amidst a network -of hills, eighteen miles from the sea. It is an ancient walled city, fortified in the strongest Way by smells that would drive any but an Asiatic army forthwith into the ocean. It is poor in appearance, but rich in fleas. On autumn nights tigers frequently Contest the right of way with belated pedestrians, and this is the chief reason Why One has the entire afreet to oneself in a moonlight stroll after eight o’clock. Metaphorically, one can scarcely see the town for the bald, bulbous and bullet-headed Buddhist priests who fatten on the superstition of the populace, and lend licentious lives in the adjacent monasteries. Barring an occasional court function, marked by street processions, Seoul is triumphantly devoid of sights interesting to ft traveller. The streets kek entirely those picturesque characteristics of a Chinese or Japanese thoroughfare, and a vista across the Corean housetop* is one of appalling monotony. One seeks in rain for attractive souvenirs. In the small shops of Seoul, Japanese beer, matches, cigarettes, and cheap crockery form the chief stock-in-trade, while long-stemmed Corean pipes and metal-handed Corean knives are offered in the more pretentious shops. Here, likewise, can be had the really unique Corean fans, made of silk or paper, finished in oil and covered with curious native designs. These fans are dipped in water before they are used, and the breeze produced by them is astonishingly cool.

The wall surrounding Seoul, from which kites are ever flying, is but a pocket edition of the great Chinese wall that leads down to the sea at Sbamhaikwan. Piercing this Corean copy are the city gates - picturesque passageways which are promptly and irrevocably closed with the setting of the sun. The west gate will be entered by the tourist on reaching the capital from Chemulpho, and should he come to the outside of this but a minute after the sun has disappeared behind the horizon, and the “big bell” has boomed its mournful warning note, he is elected to camp in the open until Phoebus has cycled round the world on the equatorial path. If he reach the gate five minutes before it closes on its groaning hinges, ha will witness a sight that will almost repay him for the toilsome trip up from the coast.