At the heart of Turkmenistan's Karakum Desert sits a crater of fire that's been burning perpetually for almost five decades. Locals have dubbed it the 'Door To Hell'. Here's a photo essay of my visit!
In a Nutshell: At the heart of Turkmenistan’s Karakum Desert sits a crater of fire the size of a football field that’s been perpetually burning now for almost fifty years. Locals have suitably dubbed it the ‘Door To Hell’, officially it’s known as the Darvaza Gas Crater. It’s not volcanic, that’s not magma, in fact, this sinister flame pit was man-made and thought to be the result of a Soviet-era gas drilling accident, yet Turkmenistan has no official record. To those travellers who’ve defied all odds in having their visas granted to this closed nation, reaching the ‘Door To Hell’ is at the top of their list. I was no different, and on an overnight camping trip, I finally got to visit what camel spiders everywhere have been talking about for years. Departing Ashgabat, this is a photo essay covering my visit to the ‘Door To Hell’.
Without beating around the bush, watch the short video snippet (0.29s) below to see the ‘Door To Hell’ in all its glory. We camped beside it overnight, and I filmed this at 4am in the morning. It was a freezing desert night, but my friend and I had all the gas crater’s warmth to ourselves. A tough campfire to put out when we left, though!
Our day began at the Ak Altyn Hotel in Ashgabat, a foreigner-friendly premier hotel that’s home to both the British and German embassies. The lobby, alike most of the city, was loaded with artistic displays fixated towards current dictator Gurbanguly Berdimuhamedow, Turkmenistan’s ‘protector’. Here he is riding a horse. Since assuming power in 2006, his time has been spent dismantling golden statues, portraits and literature from the personality cult left behind by Saparmurat Niyazov, the self-proclaimed ‘Turkmenbashi’, and replacing them with his own. I urge you to research Niyazov, he was a nutcase who banned everything from public smoking to opera music.After check-out, we stocked up on goodies for our venture into the desert. This meant snacks and alcohol, a mix of local, Russian and Ukrainian product. Payment was cash only as international cards are useless in Turkmenistan, including at ATM’s, so every dollar I needed had to be taken into the country. Tight governmental control was ubiquitous, trickling down even to the average and mundane — this clerks badge indicates his registry and license to work for this particular store only, under the ‘Ministry of Trade and Foreign Economic Relations of Turkmenistan’. Cute hat, I must add.There’s dune-bashing to reach the ‘Door To Hell’, so we needed a 4WD. But that wasn’t the only thing we needed. For foreigners, independent travel outside of Ashgabat is banned, so guides were mandatory. However, this isn’t as strict as in North Korea. Our driver’s car ended up being decked out in Turkmen carpet seat covers, this pattern is the ‘Teke’ and appears even on the Turkmenistan Coat of Arms. Turkmen are mighty proud of their rugs, there’s even a ‘Ministry of Carpets’ just a few blocks away and ‘Turkmen Carpet Day’ is marked in calendars as an annual national holiday.I’ll save the detail for another post, but this is Ashgabat, an architectural extravaganza of gilded white marble embellished by manicured green boulevards. The result is a sanitised, inefficient ghost town and frankly, the strangest city I’ve ever visited. Between buildings inspired by either the USSR or the latest NASA space shuttle, you’ll find ideological monuments, gleaming statues, ceremonial guards, endless military, police and…surveillance cameras. Lots of them. Ashgabat is an authoritarian fairyland.As we left the city, we passed the brand new Ashgabat International Airport, all 2.3 billion dollars of it. It’s shaped like a falcon…because falcons fly and you will too if you visit this airport — just as you’ll read if you visit Ashgabat’s book-shaped school. The airport itself is an eccentric absurdity, it caters to just a handful of airlines, a small domestic population relatively unable to travel, and a phantom tourist industry blocked by Turkmenistan’s own visa policies. When I flew in, other than cleaners and airport police, the place was empty.Further out, dozens of tessellated residential housing blocks began to appear. More were in construction. As the government continues razing entire neighbourhoods in Ashgabat, all those displaced are given free housing similar to that pictured, or in low-rise Soviet-style apartment complexes. This has meant business and residential districts have been divided and polarised, giving the capital a distinct ‘lack of community’ feeling.A couple of minutes later, and this was our reality now. Unforgiving desert. Pictured is a part of Turkmenistan I found particularly fantastic — the hitchhiking culture. While preoccupied constructing indoor Ferris wheels, the government has forgotten to devise an efficient public transport system. The result? Everyone is a private, unofficial taxi. It was hassle free — usually, you’d be picked up by the first car, it cost 2-5 Manat (0.56-1.4 USD) and appeared mutually safe for men, women and children.
So, back in Ashgabat, we’d noticed a police-issue jacket, bag and baton lying in the boot of our driver’s car as we stowed our luggage, so we joked between ourselves that he might be an off-duty police officer. He spoke no English, and we spoke no Turkmen nor Russian so we couldn’t be sure. Either way, he seemed chill enough. That was until our first pitstop, where he unveiled a taser and proceeded to zap indiscriminately at other drivers, cackling to himself behind dark sunglasses like a maniac. Crazy bastard. Oh, and yes, he was a cop.Another of our drivers was Sergeý Krowýakow, Turkmenistan’s only male swimming Olympian at the London 2012 games. Yep. Why he was our driver…your guess is as good as mine. Turkmenistan is weird. He swam the 100m men’s freestyle and didn’t get out of the heats, but honestly, I think he was more proud of the photo he took together with Michael Phelps. Fun fact: Turkmenistan has never won an Olympic medal.This is about as scenic as it got in the Karakum Desert. It’s a dull vista that makes up over 80% of Turkmenistan and inconveniently, the ‘Door To Hell’ was at the dead centre of it. The paved motorway pictured is the only road linking Ashgabat (south) with Dashoguz (north) — luckily our fiery destination was just a 7km off-road detour from the tarmac about four hours in. An interesting tidbit: The motorway’s name is ‘Atamurat Niyazov’, the name of Turkmenbashi’s father. During his dictatorship, he had a habit of renaming towns, roads and landmarks to reference himself and his family. He even went as far as renaming the days of the week and months of the year, which was eventually overturned after his death.It was commonplace to see herds of wild camels roaming freely. These ships of the desert blindly followed the motorway chewing their cud and didn’t show great respect to passing traffic. We also saw butchered camel carcases lining this same motorway, so it appeared that for drivers this feeling was mutual.Similar to Pyongyang in North Korea, Ashgabat is Turkmenistan’s showcase city, the totalitarian playground where the lion’s share of state funds are invested in gold-trimmed air conditioned bus stops. Rural Turkmenistan, as we began to catch a glimpse, couldn’t have been more different. Roads were sand; buildings were in tatters, rubbish was used as makeshift fencing, metal scrap and rusted car bodies littered properties and everyone had a tied up camel in their backyard. It’s hardly brochure Turkmenistan.It was a 4-hour drive, so for lunch, a local family catered for us in their desert village home. Freshly baked flat bread (çörek), fried dough (pişme), meat/vegetable soup (shurpa) and lamb pilaf (plov). The family was fun, bubbly and happy to have us. This isn’t ‘formal’ or ‘special occasion’ dress, by the way, this is what women all over Turkmenistan wear in their daily life. Bright, decorated and flamboyant with matching headscarves and, for the older generations, gold-capped teeth. This certainly put a spark into street photography.Police checkpoints were everywhere. I know it’s a police-state, but the sheer number of brib– I mean, law-enforcement officers was unbelievable. Trucks, tankers and 4WD’s appeared to be targetted, but these checkpoints enforced a stop to all vehicles (and it was wise to turn off your car radio) before being waved through. Unless, of course, your driver was an off-duty policeman, in which case he did the waving, and our convoy would keep going. If any of us were flagged over, our driver would get the call and make a u-turn to sort out the ‘mistake’.
By now we were over 200 kilometres into the desert, and 1 Litre (0.26 US Gallons) of Unleaded 95 was still just a flat 1 Manat ($0.28 USD). This price puts Turkmenistan among the cheapest nations on earth to fill up your tank (after Venezuela, Saudi Arabia and Algeria). It used to be a whole lot better too, a Presidential Decree entitled all citizens to a free monthly 120L of petrol until Berdimuhamedow stripped this benefit in 2014 ruling it unsustainable.We were getting close now. Somewhere out there in the sandy monotony lies the ‘Door To Hell’. There are no mountains nor hills, no trees, no rock formations and no landmark dunes. Close your eyes, spin around and you’re suddenly lost in the desert. Waiting till nightfall would make finding it easier, just spot the orange glow and hike a few hours — however getting back may be a different story. I hope you have a compass and aren’t afraid of camel spiders.About now is when I realised that there’s actually three gas craters in Turkmenistan, and we were visiting them all today. To maintain climactic order, we visited the most underwhelming one first, which was the ‘Water Crater’. As advertised, it was a crater of murky water still actively bubbling from gas leaks hit by the Soviets five decades ago. You can see the highway directly behind our cars, and this accessibility to the crater has led many people to stop by and turn it into a mini-trash vortex of plastic bottles.One thing I did find impressive about the ‘Water Crater’ was its scale. It’s massive, but really, an otherwise uninspiring eyesore on the desert so we moved on pretty quickly after we got the whole ‘throwing a rock into the water’ thing out of our system. We were told this crater was the first to occur in 1969.Be careful where you tread in the desert! I almost stepped on this little guy. I haven’t been able to ID him, so are there any snake experts out there that can tell me how close I came to an excruciating death? EDIT: It’s a totally harmless Psammophis Schokari (aka Schokari Sand Racer), thanks J.R. Johnson in the comments for the expertise!Next up was the main event’s supporting act, the ‘Mud Crater’. This crater even had burning patches to fire us up. Pun intended. Interestingly, this one had only been set alight recently in 2012 after being created way back in 1972 — its name is a legacy to the bubbling mud swamp in its centre. This was far more audible than you’d believe, it was like standing beside a bubbling pot, just with a pungent smell of gas.You can see the mud rippling here, producing small clay craters upon bursting. This will go on until the methane below runs out…and nobody knows when that is.
It wasn’t much further before we arrived at our turn-off to the ‘Door To Hell’. You can blaze your own trail if you’re feeling adventurous, but this dusty path just shy of the military checkpoint will make your life easier. ‘Bon Voyage!’ in Turkmen on the sign ahead denotes this to be no ordinary checkpoint, you’d be crossing into Dashoguz province, a ‘no travel zone’ and a restricted area requiring a special government permit that you won’t have. Try to forget this fact as the trail bypasses these formalities. Don’t wave. Anyway, for those who’ve found this article and are now contemplating a visit to the crater illegally on their transit visa, turn-off coordinates are 40°11’39.3″N 58°24’47.1″E. You’re welcome.After popping beers with his seatbelt, discharging tasers and irresponsibly scaling sand dunes to a soundtrack of underground Russian hip-hop in hot pursuit of Soviet pits of hell, we began to accept our driver as a certified Turkmen badass. Unfortunately, just before arrival, he lost a bit of credibility here. (For those finding this hard to see on mobile: Avril Lavigne – Complicated)It was 7km of sand out to the crater, here is the last stretch. The path may look obvious, but it’s reaching this point that’s tough. On Google, the top related blog article is entitled ‘4 ways to not visit the door to hell’, a tale of two that had tried and failed miserably, and the stories out of the Mongol Rally usually wrap up with a night bogged under the stars. You could argue that knowing the way takes away from the overall experience, but I’d counter and say I’d rather see the ‘Door To Hell’ now than go through the Turkmenistan visa process again.Without further ado, I present the ‘Door To Hell’. Darvaza Gas Crater. This was my first shot of the site, and my initial impression was that it looked like an impact crater from a meteor strike. Gas prospecting gone wrong, however, is the accepted explanation: Soviet engineers in 1971 bit off more than they could chew, drilling and hitting a gigantic underground gas cavern which then collapsed, forming a sinkhole and sucking the entire drilling rig into it. But nobody knows for sure. The Soviets allegedly concealed the extent of the disaster, leaving no paper trail, not even an incident report. As for fatalities? The official line is that there were none. But how we ‘know’ this, I am unsure.Corroded remnants of the drilling rig still remain on the crater’s rim. As for why the crater’s on fire? Those same Soviets set it alight. Strategically. Not because they’re Satanists, but because they wanted to quash the massive amounts of methane and other potentially toxic traces of natural gas left billowing out of control. Darvaza village was nearby, after all. They predicted two weeks until the reserves below will have combusted…and here we are fifty years later still watching it burn! A slight rounding error.My face almost melted off taking this photo. The crater’s heat was brutal, the afternoon sun made it worse, and every now and then a gust of wind would force me to run for the hills. Imagine the sweeping heat that hits you when opening the oven, except far hotter, over your entire body and without being able to step away. Being this close to the crater isn’t dangerous, methane gas isn’t toxic, but it does displace oxygen, so extended visits to the rim made it difficult to breathe, and you’d walk away with mild dizziness or a headache. For these reasons, I (unfortunately…) couldn’t place my sleeping bag by the edge for the night.We struck this pose many, many times. Curiously, the ‘Door To Hell’ didn’t feature in any government-issued tourism pamphlets, and locals outside of the immediate principality had either never heard of it, or never visited. It was hard to tell whether Darvaza Gas Crater was Turkmenistan’s leading tourist attraction or a concealed national embarrassment. I’m still unsure. In 2004, Turkmenbashi ordered the nearby village of Darvaza to be bulldozed, citing that “it was an unpleasant sight for tourists”, which hinted at his consent for more international visitors, however, Berdimuhamedow has since ordered the crater be filled and closed in 2010. Fast forward to 2016…the pit still exists, and you can still visit.
The inferno of flames venting from the centre is thought to be where the drilling rig punctured into the cavern. This has formed a ‘natural’ and everlasting industrial gas flare you’d usually see atop offshore oil and gas wells for controlled combustions.This is the only remnant of the collapsed drilling rig still sitting outside the crater’s rim. It’s thought the sinkhole swallowed and buried everything else that was above it.If you’re under fifty, this fire has been burning longer than your lifetime. Stomach that. Methane gas is both colourless and odourless, and no smoke is emitted, so it gave the illusion of combusting out of thin air. There are thousands of these methane spot fires scattering the pit — such strange conditions even led to a scientific expedition by National Geographic in 2014 to investigate the possibility of life inside the crater. A man and his two brass balls were lowered to do what I’d describe as a Mars-walk to collect samples, and of course, because truth is sometimes stranger than fiction, evidence was found of bacteria that was ‘very comfortable living in those high temperatures’.This gives you an idea of how ‘in-the-middle-of-nowhere’ you are at the Darvaza Gas Crater. It’s just hundreds of kilometres of nothingness beyond the horizon, the whole 360 degrees. As an unsuspecting, passing nomad, if you were to chance upon this ‘mirage’ you may begin to question your reality.However, as an Australian, all I could fathom was that with a custom-made grate we’d have ourselves one monster of a barbeque. Snags for the entire province. Bunnings would be in dismay at such a wasted business opportunity.By now, you may be wondering why steps haven’t been taken to either harness the crater’s energy or just extinguish it entirely. I too once tried to use logic, but then I remembered this was Turkmenistan. In all seriousness — it’s likely because they simply do not care. Turkmenistan has the fourth largest natural gas reserves on Earth, so an investment here at such a volatile site would be high risk, low reward. If extinguished, the gas wouldn’t stop, you’d have to find a way to cap every fissure within proximity of the site which would be expensive and inefficient. And, without that investment, dousing it would be counter-intuitive. Burning the natural gas is preventing its toxic components from lingering and hinders the methane’s potential as a greenhouse gas. It also looks damn cool at night.As mentioned, the fumes spilling out weren’t toxic, but we wanted to breathe properly, so our wild desert camp was set up about 200 metres away. If you hadn’t guessed already there are absolutely no facilities, so the landscape you see here doubled as our toilet. We were advised not to venture too far unless we wanted an encounter with a camel spider.
As the sun went down, out came the locally produced beverages. We’d had our fair share of vodka and cognac, so Turkmen desert wine was the next on our plate. It was quite tasty. I’d also managed to (finally) track down some ‘President Cognac’, which had a portrait of Turkmenbashi, the ‘Leader of all Turkmen’ on its label. His personal brand! He can keep it.Our first ominous taste of what the ‘Door To Hell’ had in store for us after nightfall.What a sight. This is what we came to see, and frankly, it exceeded expectation. There’s part of the experience here that I just cannot convey to you in photos; it’s the heat, the smell, the sound and the sheer isolation within the Turkmen desert. By night, the ‘Door To Hell’ truly shatters your senses — not something I ever anticipated from a man-made attraction. Like stunned mullets, we stood awestruck to its mesmerising flames for what felt like hours.There’s no restrictive fencing at the ‘Door To Hell’, so you can get up close and personal. I must say, it did strike me how blasé we all became to the obvious risks. The edges were nothing but dry mud, and you could see it crumbling under your feet, yet taking that photo just a tad closer remained almost a magnetic enticement. Falling in would truly be horrendous, a painful death by asphyxiation, slowly cooked by the flames as the sounds of those panicking above are drowned out by its roar. You’d be helpless. I asked, and apparently no tourist has fallen victim, but there was an urban myth of one local who wasn’t quite so lucky.In saying all that, here’s me sitting out on what they’ve nicknamed the ‘Diving Board’, a section of the hardened mud rim that juts out just far enough for you to feel like the crater is your bitch. As for the name? There’s an alternative theory. As the only light and heat source at night, animals are naturally attracted to the crater. It’s been said that camel spiders, seduced by its warmth, will approach and plummet to their deaths like a scene out of an apocalyptic, arachnid remake of the movie ‘300’. The stuff of nightmares, I tell you.The glow can be seen for tens of kilometres, and as the temperature drops by night, the entire crater appears to breathe an eerie steam that’s perfect for dramatic photography.At a distance, it appears as if the earth has switched on a spotlight. The crater’s glow was accentuated without any light pollution nearby.
Tainted by a childhood of playing Doom and Diablo, I half-expected to face off against a horde of demonic minions or an Act boss here.Fresh off our guide’s thunderous Turkmen rendition of ‘Hotel California’ on his guitar, we all sat on the scorching rim with our legs dangling and partook in what we all failed to deduce was a bad idea: sinking lots of vodkas. Vodka cranberry in a plastic cup surrounded by those who’ve similarly decided that inhaling methane isolated in Turkmenistan is the best way to spend their vacation time. Does it get any better?By 4am everyone else had gone to bed, so a friend and I kicked up our feet next to the campfire, watched the stars and finished the vodka. The crater’s dancing flames were truly hypnotising. I’d never wanted a bag of marshmallows so badly. But even then, I’d have needed a very long stick, and there aren’t many trees around…to say the least.Hell at the crack of dawn.I did eventually get to bed, but there was little time left for sleeping. On the bright side, I did get to enjoy a Karakum Desert sunrise!The night really was freezing, quite literally, it got to below 0°C, so some of us migrated to somewhere a bit…warmer…to thaw out and rest.One last photo finalised my pilgrimage to the ‘Door To Hell’. We left, but the crater continued to burn. Nobody knows for how much longer. It could be gone tomorrow, or it could last one hundred more years, either way, Darvaza Gas Crater has a finite lifespan seemingly at most threat from an unpredictable President. Ironically, I found that in this nation brimming with ideological monuments, the ‘Door To Hell’ may just be the most sincere of them all, a striking shrine to Turkmenistan’s real leader, their natural gas reserves, and the culture of frivolous wastage that’s followed.
Bonus:
We had one more ultra special task on our list before our return to Ashgabat: Washing our car. Why? Driving a dirty car in Ashgabat is illegal. Seriously. It’s actually an enforced law too, the police have a watchful eye, and you’ll be fined. This, plus the recent ban on black car importation into Turkmenistan surely makes it difficult for the first world anarchists out there!
I was part of the first ever group of foreigners given access to all stations across both lines of the Pyongyang Metro. Ultranationalistic in theme, North Korea's revolutionary goals are evident here. Here's my experience!
In a Nutshell: I was part of the first ever group of foreigners given access to all stations across both lines of the Pyongyang Metro. This may sound mundane, but the restricted Pyongyang Metro is surely among the most mysterious yet beautiful transit systems on earth. Each of its sixteen stations are unique yet ultra-nationalistic in theme, showcasing North Korea’s revolutionary history, goals and achievements to impressionable commuters through a series of mosaics, murals and monuments. It’s a lavish underground museum long shrouded by foreign conspiracy theory. Sensationalism aside, here is my journey in over sixty photos of the beating heart of Pyongyang, the Pyongyang Metro.
About: I’m Elliott. I’m the tour director at North Korea tour operator Uri Tours. I travel a lot myself, sometimes to the unusual, weird and wacky. Earth Nutshell is where I share my experiences. Interested in visiting North Korea for yourself? Shoot me an email at elliott@uritours.com.
To set the scene, here’s a small video snippet descending to the platforms with the sound of revolutionary anthems booming from antique loudspeakers central to the escalator…
The Pyongyang Metro is the deepest metro system in the world at 110 metres and it conveniently doubles as a nuclear bunker. It’s an almost four-minute descent to reach the train platforms and the hallways are protected by thick steel blast doors. You can see these most notably at Yonggwang and Kaeson stations.This is Puhung Station, the terminus of the Chollima line. Prior to 2010, Puhung was one of just two metro stations that foreign visitors were permitted to visit, even with mandatory guides. The other is Yonggwang Station and it’s just one stop ahead. Both stations were the final two to be completed and are regarded as the most lavish, likely the reason they’re chosen as the showcase stations on tourism itineraries. The mural to the back is entitled ‘The Great Leader Kim Il-Sung Among Workers’.Centrepiece mosaics adorn every station and each fit a unique theme. This, of course, is in addition to the overarching theme of President Kim Il-Sung. President Kim Il-Sung is depicted here as a humble representation of the sun itself, gazing down upon the reunification of North and South Korean citizens. All under the North Korean flag, no less. Tongil Station, Chollima line.Today’s headline: “Our republic will prosper endlessly along the roadway to Juche.” This headline features the late President Kim Il-Sung, dead now for over twenty years. Juche is the national ideology of North Korea, the brainchild of President Kim Il-Sung that’s often translated as ‘self-reliance’ and is for all intents and purposes the religion of North Korea, technically an atheist nation. Juche is the cornerstone of North Korea’s ultra-nationalism, isolation, and seemingly political immunity. All news media in North Korea is tightly controlled and censored by the state. This is the Workers Newspaper ‘Rodong Sinmun’, the official press of the Workers’ Party of Korea.President Kim Il-Sung and I at Kaeson Station. In the past, this statue was a dull, boring white marble portrayal of the Great Man but has since received a gleaming upgrade. Kaeson translates to ‘Triumph’, each metro station is named referencing the socialist revolution (Comrade, Red Star, Glory, Complete Victory, etc.) and not by location. Kaeson is the only station to break this rule, with a referenceable landmark in the ‘Arch of Triumph’.As for the trains, we rode the cream of the crop. Berlin D-type hand-me-downs from Germany that were planned for scrap until North Korea purchased them back in 1999. These are now claimed as Korean-built. All indication of Berlin manufacture has been removed and the train numbers have been changed, however, remnants of scratch-tag graffiti from their past life in Germany could still be made out despite attempts to clean them up. They weren’t as bad as the imported trolley buses up at ground level, those things still had what appeared to be the portfolio works of Banksy on their windows.Portraits of President Kim Il-Sung and General Kim Jong-Il were present in every train carriage. By law, they’re framed thicker to the top and angle downwards to oversee those in any room they’re placed. Revolutionary anthems filled each carriage to otherwise silence, commuters didn’t speak or interact with each other and boarding or alighting the train was an effortless, polite process with self-organised order.
This mosaic is a celebration of the Workers’ Party of Korea. President Kim Il-Sung, noticeably more detailed than his peers, unveils the inspiring and revolutionary outcome of their hardline commitment to the Juche idea. This reminded me of Mufasa presenting The Pride Lands to Simba on Pride Rock in the Lion King, just with more socialism. The banners translate to: “Hurray to our outstandingly wise leader, Kim Il-Sung!” and “Hurray to the founding of the Workers’ Party of Korea!”Those actively serving in Korean People’s Army are not above Pyongyang’s most efficient public transport system. Here I was spotted and received a stern look from a KPA General as he lined up to buy a ticket alike any other citizen. In a vase near the attendant, you can spot both a decorative purple Kimilsungia and red Kimjongilia. I’m unsure why the frosted glass hiding the attendants identity is necessary. Yonggwang Station, Chollima line.This is Yonggwang Station, the second and final stop for most tourists of the past. This arbitrary restriction spawned conspiracy theories that the Pyongyang Metro was merely two stations in total, and that the well-dressed commuters were just actors assigned to delude visitors into the impression of an extensive public transport system that didn’t actually exist. If you hadn’t realised yet, that is total hogwash. As an aside, the murals on each wall here are a massive eighty metres long.“Hurray to the liberation of women!” Chonu Station is the transfer station from Chollima to the only other officially recognised line, Hyoksin. There’s been some evidence to suggest another secretive line or network of lines exist restricted to government and military use only. This evidence includes one prominent defector account and verification of North Korea importing over double the required number of train carriages required for their public system, even accounting for spares.Train attendants manning the Metro entry above ground. Public service roles in North Korea require military-inspired uniforms. The banner above the escalator reads: “Long Live General Kim Jong-Un, the Sun of Songun (military-first) Korea!” Puhung Station, Chollima line.One of our North Korean guides reading a guidebook on North Korea. This book was allowed into the country after being cleared by customs. He was glued to it for hours, fascinated with an outside perspective of his beloved country. Hwanggumbol Station, Hyoksin line.“Out you go, U.S Military!” and “National Unification” are the translations here. Bronze plaques depicting scenes of the Korean War, national productivity, reunification or victory celebration are standard inside most stations. Tongil Station, Chollima line.
Two commuters reading the daily newspaper while awaiting their train. Okay, one commuter reading the daily newspaper, and another giving me the death stare. Hyoksin Station, Hyoksin line.An electronic board on the Chollima line (red). Pressing one of the stations along the bottom lights up your route. I’m standing at the terminus, Puhung Station. Here you can see clearly how far they previously allowed foreigners, literally one station to the right and then back. Today we visited both lines, beginning to end. Seriously, the metro isn’t fake or choreographed, it’s an integral service to Pyongyang.Catching the train with some Pyongyang locals. I thought this was a subtle snap, viewing it later proved otherwise. Commuters were nothing but polite, offering up seats to the elderly and even to us as foreigners. I’m unsure whether this was normality, or just for us.“Hurray to the glorious Workers’ Party of Korea!” Trains arrived every five to seven minutes, during peak times every two minutes. Before departures, the platforms were packed just as it would be anywhere else in the world.Protected by the flag of the Worker’s Party of Korea, the Korean people advance under the leadership of Eternal President Kim Il-Sung. You’ll notice each subject has a unique role; there’s the soldiers, naval officer, air force pilot, police, engineers, architect, mechanic, cleaner, cook, farmer, and peasant. Everybody contributes to the wider success and victory of glorious Korea. This is motivating to the people irrespective of their profession.This is one of the most striking monuments in the Pyongyang Metro, and my favourite. Kwangbok Station sits in relative darkness, brightened only by this shining, spotless statue of Kim Il-Sung at the very end. It was quite creepy frankly.Her face could say one thousand words. This is what I assume to be either a group of conductors undergoing training or the next shift dispersing. The band around their arms directly translates to ‘Trainman’. Hyoksin Station, Hyoksin line.
Street-level entry to Yonggwang Station. The banner translates: “Following the great leader of our party, let’s head towards the final victory!” The streets of Pyongyang are spotless, I don’t think I saw a single piece of litter in the city.This is the entrance to Konguk Station. We were the first foreign visitors ever allowed into this station. Foreign tour operators consistently try to extend the boundaries to traditional trips to Pyongyang. To use the Metro as an example, prior to 2010 just two stations were visitable, afterward, it became five, then six, and now today we had access to all sixteen stations. To those involved, these baby steps form part of the bigger picture of North Korean tourism. Another foreign tour guide joined us on this visit purely to enter Konguk for the first time, they commemorated the event with a polaroid picture to take out and put in their office. This may seem sad to you, it’s just a train station after all, but consider the bureaucratic nightmare that is North Korea. Progress is nothing to scoff at.The electronic board from the lesser-seen Hyoksin line, not only that, the photo is taken from inside Konguk Station itself! Both of these lines are completely located on the western side of Pyongyang due to a major accident that occurred attempting to extend the Metro under the Taedong River in 1971 killing at least one hundred workers. The tunnel was never completed.All hype aside, Konguk Station was similar to the others – shined marble floors clean enough to eat from, walls you’d sooner expect inside mansions of the rich and famous and dimmed platforms brightened only for one man, the man himself…President Kim Il-Sung.However, Konguk Station was unique in having giant marble pillars. Ancient Greek architecture right here in North Korea. The look of shock on the faces of commuters tells the story of our visit into this station.This bronze plaque depicts a working class North Korean family being displaced and repressed by the U.S Army during the Korean War. It appears as though it may be bordering the Demilitarized Zone. The anti-US sentiment is still fundamental to much of North Koren artworks. Tongil Station, Chollima line.At thirty metres long, this mural commemorates the independence of Korea in 1945, ‘Victory over Japan Day’ when the peninsula was liberated from Japanese rule. Kaeson Station, Chollima line.
Nobody ran, pushed, laughed or smiled in the Pyongyang Metro, there was no chatter, oh and it took me off guard to witness the beginning of the future – lives consumed by electronics. It certainly felt familiar. Mobile phones are common to those in the larger cities of North Korea, at last estimate over 10% of the population now owns one, anything from an old brick bar-phone to an Apple iPhone. They can’t call internationally, and there’s no internet connection, but it’s a start. In this photo, you can spot the different types of lapel pins available (and mandatory) to citizens, the double portrait version purchasable by the elite is not pictured here.General Kim Jong-Il doesn’t feature as much as I’m sure he’d like in the Pyongyang Metro, although this may change. As recent as 2013, this mural used to be of North Korea’s more sacred site, Mount Paekdu. Mount Paekdu is the highest mountain on the Korean Peninsula and North Korean state media has always claimed General Kim Jong-Il was born at the peak in a secret military camp. Soviet records, however, indicate he was actually born in Russia. Yonggwang Station, Chollima line.The extra detail put into the face of President Kim Il-Sung is evident here. Each person in every mural is smiling, it’s imperative that President Kim Il-Sung is portrayed as a man of the people, a role model and source of inspiration for children and adults alike. However, I felt many of the murals with children came across as creepy, one at the orphanage in Nampo in particular.You’ll be sometimes greeted by KPA military police when entering the stations. Their armbands translate ‘Inspection’. The signs above the entrance doors translate to: “The Hwanggumbol Station our great leader Kim Jong-Un has made for us through field guidance.” It then lists the dates, interestingly written as ‘Juche 67’ and ‘Juche 71’. North Korea doesn’t use the traditional Gregorian calendar, they use the ‘Juche’ calendar, pivoted from the date of President Kim Il-Sung’s birth, Juche 1.A train about to depart on time behind one of the many bronze plaques in Tongil Station on the Chollima line.“Oh Chosun (the historical term referring to Korea), here we announce the birth of Baekdoo (referring to General Kim Jong-Il).” This mural depicts the sacred ‘Slogan Trees’ which are places of pilgrimage for North Koreans. I visited one of these trees in Pujon County in the north-east – it was a tree, encased in glass, protected by shutters and inscribed with a revolutionary slogan. State media claim the slogans were made by soldiers of this ‘secret military camp’ headed by President Kim Il-Sung in tribute to the birth of General Kim Jong-Il. In reality, Soviet records indicate President Kim Il-Sung spent this time in exile in Russia. Kwangbok Station, Hyoksin line.Schoolchildren led by their teachers regularly use the Pyongyang Metro. I’m unsure why the students have tags attached to their arm, any guesses? Ponghwa Station, Chollima line.
An example of the grandiose chandeliers found inside the Pyongyang Metro. This one was at the top of an escalator at ground level. The extravagance underground is designed to bring affluence and luxury to the lives of even the lower working class, serving as inspiration in pursuing national goals. Hwanggumbol, Hyoksin line.“Hurray to our General Kim Il-Sung, the outstandingly wise leader!” Kaeson Station, Chollima line.A mother carrying her baby, a scene that could be captured anywhere in the world, and I liked this photo for that reason. The baby even has a hat on that’s stitched with a cartoon character. Freedom of expression, even fiction through art is primarily thought to be forbidden in North Korea, which for the most part, it certainly is. However, it appeared that children until a certain age are afforded the luxury to be dressed however their parents pleased; bright colours, patterned clothing and prints of fictional characters that even featured in books and toys.Another North Korean abstraction of the unmistakable communist symbol, the hammer and sickle. Out with agriculture, in with the AK-47. Maybe not the wisest move from an economic standpoint but for a self-confessed military-first state, it may well be more accurate. Pulgunbyol Station, Chollima line.President Kim Il-Sung reading a book about President Kim Il-Sung. “The Nations Sun, leader Kim Il-Sung.” Tongil Station, Chollima line.President Kim Il-Sung and General Kim Jong-Il appear in daily newspapers inspecting factories, educational facilities, agriculture plantations or military installations just as if they’re current events. This was in today’s paper. “Let the immortal achievements built by the Workers’ Party of Korea last for as long as ten million years.” Ponghwa Station, Chollima line.This plaque depicts military encampments in the northern forests of North Korea. Kwangbok Station, Hyoksin line.
The anti-Japanese revolutionary struggle. Kwangbok Station, Hyoksin line.President Kim Il-Sung announcing his plans to rebuild the modern city of Pyongyang following the destruction from the Korean War. This was in 1953, the day after the armistice between the North and South of Korea was signed. There are other huge murals in Konsol Station showcasing heavy industry, construction sites and builders working through blood, sweat, and tears to recreate President Kim Il-Sung’s vision of a showcase capital, a living testament to socialist efficiency and accomplishment.Hwanggumbol Station, or ‘Golden Soil’ Station, has platforms suitably celebrating the agriculture and farming industry. North Korea’s model of self-sufficiency heavily relies upon cooperative farming to feed the population. This over-reliance, combined with torrential flooding and restricted Soviet food-aid in the 1990’s contributed to the humanitarian crisis we know as the North Korean famine. Inside North Korea, this disaster is known as the ‘Arduous March,’ an optimistic term coined by the regime to defer state responsibility and its failure in preventing countrywide hunger.Inside the crowded, screeching tubes of trains, oil, and axle grease of metro systems all over the world, the walls are usually a stark reminder of why graffiti is rightfully illegal. In North Korea, graffiti carries harsh, unspeakable punishment. In 2011, graffiti denouncing General Kim Jong-Il found in a college sent the capital city of Pyongyang into literal lockdown, the regime refused to sell train tickets until the culprit was found. In my time inside North Korea, I have not spotted one single instance of graffiti or defacement.Luminous eye-catching gold watches are a clear symbol of affluence in North Korea. Oversized, loose-fitting shirts, silk suit jackets, and pants or neat blouses and skirts make up most of the daily style choices. Even in rural areas, men wear shining silk suit jackets on bare skin in the heat. Branding and advertising don’t exist in North Korea as a result of virtually zero market freedom, leaving clothing design and distribution up to the state. Oddly, I couldn’t help but notice how commonplace blue socks were in North Korea, even in formal dress. Weird. Hyoksin Station, Hyoksin line.“The truth of the nation’s equality as shown by shooting cases” Korean Central News Agency reported on the United States Ferguson protests and riots of a fatal shooting by a police officer. The coverage painted the United States as a ‘gloomy society, where people are subjected to discrimination and contempt for no other reason than their races and skin colour and are in constant fear of being shot to death’, as quoted by the North Korean Foreign Ministry spokesman. Considering the misspelling, I thought I could find the source of the photo on the internet. I came up with no results. Edit: Many of you found it, thank you. The image was distributed by Chinese sources.Another scene of Korean reunification under the rule of President Kim Il-Sung. The banner reads: “Hurray to General Kim Il-Sung!” Kwangbok Station, Hyoksin line.
A station board outlining ‘rules’ of the Pyongyang Metro. The first item indicates you must wait for commuters to disembark before entering in an orderly manner, no pushing or holding the door in case of dangers to your hands or feet. Good advice considering the doors close with the force of a guillotine. The second item indicates once the door closes, to take a step back into the waiting zone. Boring, totally standard metro etiquette, even in North Korea.Low-hanging chandeliers did their best to brighten most stations. The tube remained pitch black and the trains themselves were very dark inside, some had flickering lights, and the doors were manually operated. Train attendants at each station moved in a purposeful, militaristic manner similar to that of the Pyongyang traffic ladies, raising their paddles each time the train arrived or departed. Konsol Station, Hyoksin line.You can see here just how many pieces make up only a small section of each mosaic, of which there must be close to one hundred in the Pyongyang Metro. Konsol Station, Hyoksin line.“Maximise increased production and saving of money” President Kim Il-Sung giving an inspirational speech to those working in fields of industry. Hyoksin Station, Hyoksin line.The way men stand with their hands interlocked behind their back is a mannerism I noticed prominent all over North Korea. It is habitual as a result of their years of military service discipline. Pulgunbyol Station, Chollima line.Another snippet from today’s newspaper. The headings read: “Our great fatherland is shining to the rest of the world!”, “There is victory and glory along the road of following our leader”, “The great men and our national anthem.” Hyoksin Station, Hyoksin line.North Korea has adopted General Kim Jong-Il’s Songun (military-first) policy which means expenditures, allocation of resources and national affairs are wholly prioritised towards the interests of Korean People’s Army. If you’ve yet to notice, they’re quite proud of having one of the largest active military forces on earth, both men and women are indoctrinated early into accepting military influence as normality in their everyday lives. For men, military conscription is a gruelling 11 years, the longest of any country. Samhung Station, Hyoksin line.
North Korea is also proud of their scientific advancement, in particular, nuclear breakthroughs. We know too well that this is flaunted politically to the rest of the world, it’s North Korea’s chief propaganda export. Samhung Station is an overall celebration of President Kim Il-Sung’s ‘Three Revolutions’ – the Ideological, Technical and Cultural aspects of North Korea. There’s even an exhibition of the same name in Pyongyang.Sporting achievements are also showcased. You may laugh, but would you believe me if I told you North Korea is legitimately home to the largest sporting stadium on earth? The Rungrado May Day Stadium, a capacity of 150,000 people. Yes, I was just as surprised.This mural went up a considerable time ago. I’d tell you that the technology promoted has far progressed beyond this point, but I’m not so sure. In all seriousness, Windows XP desktop PC’s appeared to be the weapon of choice for most computer systems in North Korea. Samhung Station, Hyoksin line.Imagine the opening ceremony of the Olympics, but with 100,000 participants performing a ultra-nationalist, synchronized socialist-realist spectacular of politicised gymnastics. That’s North Korea’s ‘Arirang Mass Games’. Participants are primarily students and children who practice every day for almost six months to perform for three months, leaving many observers concerned over human rights violations. Beyond the making-of, the performance itself cannot be faulted. It’s a logistical masterpiece needing to be seen to be believed. It’s no wonder North Koreans are proud of their performing arts.“We pray for the nations sun, leader Kim Il-Sung’s long life.” Embroidery and calligraphy are well-respected skills in North Korea and gifted children will go to extracurricular classes in the Mangyongdae Children’s Palace or Pyongyang Children’s Palace to reach their full potential in either field. Tongil Station, Chollima line.“We shall strike powerfully and construct the nation into an athletic powerhouse by vigorously stirring up a physical education frenzy!”, “Serve the patriotic achievements of the representative men to present dignity and honour of the homeland to the entire nation.”, “Freshly built pool and port resorts in mountain villages of the sea.”, “Presenting the proud accomplishments of the September celebration event (National Day).”, “Stirring weather, overflowing Chosun (Korea).” Tongil Station, Chollima line.My favourite mural in the Pyongyang Metro. It’s bright, proud and perfectly fitting to Hwanggumbol Station, otherwise known as ‘Golden Soil.’ You may notice how similar President Kim Il-Sung looks here to Marshal Kim Jong-Un currently. It’s become quite clear to North Korea watchers that Marshal Kim Jong-Un consciously strives to emulate the likeness and mannerisms of his endeared grandfather. President Kim Il-Sung represents a time of unprecedented prosperity.This gives you a better idea of how prominent each monument is to each station. You can always rely upon President Kim Il-Sung and his glowing smile. Kaeson Station, Chollima line.An ‘Industrial Purchase Shop’ inside Hwanggumbol Station. We weren’t allowed to purchase anything or take photos. It looked just like the cheap Chinese trinket stalls found beyond North Korea, even selling tasteless glitzy mobile covers, specifically for the Chinese ZTE line of phones (e.g. ZTE V880) and also the Panasonic T21 and T45 models. The fact they were referred to by their true product names and not rebrands really surprised me. Knock-off sunglasses, fragrances, purses, and even earphones were for sale, as were plastic water pistols, rubber ducks, and bubble blowers. Amongst the plush toys was Mickey Mouse, romantic bears with ‘Angel’ and ‘Baby’ in English stitched to each foot, and a balloon even had Disney’s Snow White on it. Fascinating.And finally, walking out of Chonsung Station, to fireworks and flowers, spotlights and smiles, you as the reader have now reached the end of the line, the end of this gallery, at least. We visited every station today, and as someone without an exact fetish for trains or historic tube systems, I felt enthralled by the ride, another porthole into North Korea, and I hope you did too. Thanks for joining me for a closer look at the elusive Pyongyang Metro system!
Bonus:
This scene is neither from the Pyongyang Metro or merely another mural. In fact, it’s not a mural at all. This is a large-scale diorama, a full 360 degrees of three-dimensional objects and flat artworks that combine to put you right into the action of the President Kim Il-Sung-led construction of the Pyongyang Metro back in 1973. It gets weirder, this diorama exists in the ‘Revolutionary Museum of Metro Construction’, an entire museum in Pyongyang dedicated purely to the opening of the Pyongyang Metro. It’s an overall shrine to President Kim Il-Sung’s leadership. Inside, there are glass-encased exhibits containing the chair President Kim Il-Sung sat in while inspecting construction, the pen he used to sign papers, a microphone he spoke into, a reconstruction of the escalators and even a walk-through recreation of an entire tunnel section.Here you can see clearer the ground, train tracks, and rock face are physical which lead into the rest of the scene to create the overall illusion. The Revolutionary Museum of Metro Construction was an architectural showpiece in itself, multiple levels of open space rooms where the walls and floor were made from the finest granite and marble. Each room was manned by North Korean guides in traditional Hanbok keen to assist in our Pyongyang Metro education. To say North Korea is proud of the Pyongyang Metro is an understatement.
Want to visit North Korea for yourself? I can help. I’m the tour director at Uri Tours, a North Korea tour operator. For inquiries you can contact me directly at elliott@uritours.com.
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Pyongyang Golf Course is North Korea's only golf course. As an avid golfer, I just had to play it. Famous thanks to Kim Jong-Il's miracle score, it turned out to be a round I'd never forget. Check it out!
In a Nutshell: Pyongyang Golf Course is North Korea’s only golf course. As an avid golfer, I just had to play it. Made famous thanks to campfire stories of General Kim Jong-Il’s miracle (mythical?) score, I added an 18-hole visit to my itinerary and it turned out to be a round I’d never forget. The day ranged from inspecting a supermarket, coming within arms-reach of Marshal Kim Jong-Un’s luxury yacht, to running an impromptu North Korean golf clinic. Read on for my experience at Pyongyang Golf Course!
About: I’m Elliott. I’m the tour director at North Korea tour operator Uri Tours. I travel a lot myself, sometimes to the unusual, weird and wacky. Earth Nutshell is where I share my experiences. Fancy playing Pyongyang Golf Course for yourself? I run 3-night and 5-night private golf trips into North Korea. Shoot me an email at elliott@uritours.com.
Bizarre, surreal and exclusive, Pyongyang Golf Course sits between a rock and a hard place as a morally conflicting spot of fun within an otherwise dark, oppressive nation of well publicised human rights violations. Situated across arguably the most secretive border on earth, the course is guarded by well over ten million active, reserve and paramilitary personnel and requires express permission to visit; Augusta eat your heart out. Technically a public course, you won’t find a soul here, it’s played only by a handful of the regime’s elite and open to tourists both crazy enough to find themselves in North Korea andwho want to play golf. Apparently, that’s rare.
But most famously to foreigners, Pyongyang Golf Course holds an interesting place in North Korean legend. As the myth goes, it was here General Kim Jong-Il redefined golf as we know it, shattering the PGA Tour record of 59 in his first ever round with a score of just 34 strokes. His feat is said to have been witnessed by a handful of state officials and the news shared to the people of North Korea. It even included five hole-in-ones. Was there any truth to this story? I’d find out.
Golf etiquette would indicate this to be an expensive round for Dear Leader, each ace a round of beers for all in the clubhouse. Luckily for him, at last estimate, there were just 45 golfers in the entire nation.
Today I’d be one of them, assuming we could find the course. Information was scant, and the guides hadn’t visited before. But, I’d been promised Pyongyang Golf Course, that it was North Korea’s only place to have a hit, and as an avid golfer, I couldn’t pass up such a unique experience. I just had to play it.
Organising it
So, how does one find himself playing golf in North Korea? Firstly, you must get to North Korea. Secondly, you must enjoy golf. Many of you may find this part more challenging. Organising the actual round is simple, you ask the question. It’s not a typical request and it’s usually met by a ‘maybe, we can check.’ But just four days later, the request was approved by the North Koren tourism authority and my itinerary now included an 18th of September tee-off on the world’s darkest course. Too easy.
Not coincidently, today was also my last full day of this particular trip to North Korea. I hadn’t left the hotel unaccompanied in over half a month and each days itinerary had been an exhausting 8am-8pm venture. Sometimes more. I’m just saying, this countryside golf escape couldn’t have come soon enough! Perhaps I’d even get a sleep-in.
Fat chance! North Korean officials had other intentions, the concept of ‘free time’ in North Korean tourism is an oxymoron and the paranoia of foreigners left to blaze their own trail is transparent here. Today was no exception and golf just wasn’t enough. However, I had to smirk when I glanced over our final permitted itinerary:
08:45 – Jonsong Revolutionary Site
10:30 – Walk from Arch of Triumph to Pyongyang Grand Theatre
11:30 – Supermarket
12:15 – Lunch 14:00 – Golf at Pyongyang Golf Course! 18:30 – Draft beer hall
19:30 – Yanggakdo Hotel for dinner
Yes. An approved city walk (in the best part of town) between two landmarks previously visited, sanctioned evening beers and well…a supermarket. It’s not often you’ll go on a tour that showcases a nation’s toiletry and cereal selection, but there I was inspecting one of North Korea’s fully stocked ‘foodstuff’ marts, guides at my heel and stares from every direction. Nothing was plastic, and there was no fat kid with ice cream. Apparently, I was only the second foreigner ever to head inside.
The backdrop is still Pyongyang if you can believe it. Modern, right? Don’t be fooled, it’s also the only block of the country that looks anything like this. It’s no surprise this formed the backdrop to my sanctioned walk.
As per the itinerary, we were to eat lunch before playing golf. I was taken to an upmarket restaurant in Pyongyang I hadn’t yet eaten at. I have no idea of the name. I have no idea of the location. They like it that way. There was a large group of middle-aged Pyongyang residents celebrating a birthday as I walked in, most surprising as the restaurants were usually emptied prior to foreigner arrivals. Today’s meal was a treat, as an ‘important guest’ I could order anything I wanted from the menu, marking the first time I was afforded this luxury on my trip. Vegans need not apply.
So…bibimbap it was. You can’t go wrong with Korean food in Korea. Even in the North. Guides ate cold Naengmyeon Noodles, a delicacy here that I thought could be better enjoyed after a quick microwave.
It’s tough to get a smile out of North Koreans for photographs. Here are the three guides and myself enjoying lunch in an unknown Pyongyang restaurant, my driver is second from the right.
Of course, a meal in North Korea isn’t complete without a lucky dip assortment of cold meats and fried matter. Usually stale. Eating here was one of my last spins at the wheel of food poisoning, thankfully. The food, as usual, was replenished as we ate it (for foreigners at least…) resulting in massive wastage that I suspect is either recycled for further meals or consumed by employees.
I know that looks like corn, but it certainly didn’t taste like corn.
Getting to Pyongyang Golf Course
Hogging all six lanes of the unmaintained highway, we rattled out of central Pyongyang into rural North Korea, weaving between road craters. The guides and I had the van to ourselves, a locally built vehicle from Pyeonghwa Motors, curiouslythe only company granted advertising permission within North Korea. I had spotted their billboards earlier in my trip, oddly targeting a general populace forbidden from private car ownership. It seemed counterintuitive really until it’s motive became clear — convincing citizens of national self-reliance and the economic success of Great Korea.
During our drive, laptop bouncing from knee to knee, I shared photos with Ri and Kang, the guides, from my outside world adventures. Major landmarks such as the Eiffel Tower and Times Square were immediately recognised from their studies, glaciers from Iceland left them awestruck, albeit confused, and one particular guide discovered today that Australia, is in fact, an island. Success!
My transport, a Korea International Tourist Company (KITC) van. This photo was taken in the Yanggakdo Hotel carpark in Pyongyang. These are all cleared out by 9am.
Out here in rural Pyongyang, the atmosphere is best described as desolate, isolated and lonely. There’s a distinct cut-off between the hazy Soviet-inspired metropolis and well, the outside. Much alike North Korean social hierarchy. Nationalistic slogans, heart-warming odes of motivation from ‘Dear Leader’ command the civilian workforce from hilltops as huge red and white banners. There are no other vehicles, just locals migrating between village and crop by foot or cycle. One elderly lady, in particular, stood out, spotted dragging half a dozen sandbags by her weathered, rusted bicycle. She was hunched over, exhausted, seemingly defeated and talking to herself, a scene I haven’t since forgotten.
Ten minutes passed, which soon became thirty. After a series of u-turns the déjà vu could indicate only one thing —
— Yep. We were lost. In North Korea. Lovely.
“Long live the great leader comrade Kim Jong-Un!” Rural signage such as this is all over the country, providing motivation to the labour force to work harder.
In their defence, the guides hadn’t visited Pyongyang Golf Course before.
“What should we be looking for?”I was asked as we pulled the van over to where, in most countries with an infrastructure budget, would usually be a curb.
I didn’t know what to say. I mean…we were searching for a golf course. You know, a giant landscaped piece of earth…mowed lawns, sectioned tee beds and pristine smooth putting surfaces with (hopefully) a flag. Possibly even a club house.
But, herein lies the problem. They didn’t know. The globalised ‘gentlemen’s sport’ of chasing an arrogant white ball with a stick, the best way to ruin an otherwise great walk, the perfect afternoon excuse to escape the wife, was entirely unknown to them. In hindsight, this should have been immediately apparent when I was collected this morning at the Yanggakdo Hotel — Ri had arrived prepared for an 18 hole day on the turf wearing high heels. Bless her heart. I would have been a tough catch had I made a runner on the 15th, just saying.
But in all seriousness, what a concept. National censorship at work.
Caving into defeat, we began asking locals for direction. This is the last resort for KITC for two reasons: To retain a level of professional integrity but more importantly, to limit foreigner exposure to average North Korean citizens.
And well, it did end up weird. Pulling up beside civilians, our simple requests were coldly ignored — we were offered in return not so much as eye contact. The locals we asked were subdued and dismissive, opting instead just to continue walking as if we weren’t there. Was it my presence? Was it the class disparity between themselves and the guides? Was it illegal? I don’t know, but in true North Korean style, the guides assured me that ‘they just didn’t hear us’.
We did eventually get on track, our driver executing an erratic manoeuvre into opposing lanes of the highway which you’d sooner expect from LA police chase footage, tumbling into a hidden farmyard entrance on the wrong side of the road. Luckily there was no traffic today. Or ever. Who was I kidding?
Photos weren’t permitted. Distinctive red flags divided the landscape indicating the restrictive bounds of farm labour zones. Government order designates this work, the worker’s remuneration is provided under the nation’s ration distribution system. The road itself was merely a trail designed for bicycles; sun-dried spices brightened the edges with colour. We were the ice cream truck to the playground, only here the young children could be spotted working the fields by hand instead, looking up only to see us pass. There are no modern cultivation techniques in North Korea; education is a privilege, not a right, and maybe concerns over age discrimination are taken a tad too literally.
Villages were cordoned off by military blockade. It’s worth remembering that not only are North Korean citizens unable to leave their country but for most, they’re unable to exit even the bounds of their province. These military blockades are not for foreigners.
Each checkpoint is manned by Korean People’s Army soldiers, staunch and hard-line in their enforcement of authority. They’re outfitted in olive-green military attire that’s, of course, one size too big — their peak caps so tall they’re better suited to a Broadway performance. Alike a zoo gorilla, I was sized up in the vans back seat, the muffled sound of Korean heard beyond the windows, an AK-47 tapped on the drivers side levering our documentation.
We handed across our papers, seemingly fulfilling all provincial entry and exit requirements and onwards we went to Pyongyang Golf Course.
Blurry, this was the exact moment I was caught taking snaps out the window and firmly told not to again. This photo was my last until Pyongyang Golf Course.
There was no signage, however, it was obvious: we’d arrived. First impressions were great. I must admit I expected the worst. Trees provided a canopy to the entrance path (paved!) and manicured hedges in part formed a grand procession towards the clubhouse reminiscent to any golfer. It suddenly got a whole lot less…well, poor — I think that’s the word.
Fairway views were luscious green, the roughs were distinct, bunkers raked and putting surfaces appeared inviting and devoid of plug holes. Upkeep was regular and consistent, golf courses require daily maintenance and water, lots of water, especially in this heat. It wasn’t a bad effort for a country currently enduring one of its worst droughts in history.
The Pyongyang Golf Course clubhouse, built in traditional Korean style. The course even owns motorised golf buggies imported from China, which I didn’t expect. The golfer pictured here had just finished their round, whoever they are, their car had North Korean plates.
Marched into the clubhouse, two female employees stood clear of the door welcoming my arrival. As always in North Korea, they’d been expecting me. They spoke no English, ushering me to the front desk where a selection of battered, soulless golf shoes await that alike most of the country, hadn’t seen an upgrade since the Cold War. One pair was an ancient golf relic bearing the ‘kiltie’ – an attached frilled leather flap traditionally used to keep muck out of the laces. Today they serve more purpose attending a fancy dress party than on the course. I tried them on. They didn’t fit.
I was more disappointed than I should have been.
Practice putting green to the right of the clubhouse. It was surprisingly well maintained.
Overall, the clubhouse was nice inside and functional, yet basic. An open plan lobby with shined stone tiles. Paintings of a North Korean holy site, Mt. Kumgang, were hung on the walls. I’d visited just two days prior and let me tell you…it was far from a dead ringer. Dusty hand carved sunken armchairs filled awkward parts of the room while closed off spaces, inviting to the curious were shuttered away in the gloom behind regally decored pastel curtains. There was even a restaurant bar area upstairs and billiards room. But most shockingly, portraits of Kim Il-Sung or his son were nowhere to be found. I felt this to be ironically unsettling.
Golf balls were unbranded, so were the tees and collared shirts were on sale in just one colour, yellow — bright and happy in a country that’s anything but. Robotic smiles, the faces of excessive service led me into a course credit line, sending me bounding toward the first tee with a bucket of Heineken (imported from China), DPRK bottled water and lousy canned coffee. Legally, I had to be chaperoned around even the golf course today. There was just no respite!
To those golfers reading, here’s a table of the course statistics:
An overview to the course at the payment desk inside the clubhouse. Concrete lettering: “Magnifying the devotion of victory, let’s create a violent blow of fire wind on all fronts of the rigidity nation building!” Red lettering: Long live the son of Songun (Military-first ideology) Chosun, General Kim Jong-Un! “Thoroughly penetrate the programmatic tasks our respectful Marshal Kim Jong-Un presented this year at the New Years speech!”
Now, for the golf clubs. What were to be today’s North Korean weapons of choice? According to cultural differences, this may well just be a bag of Kalashnikovs — golf here could be different than I envisioned. Either way, I was worried because I suffer the dreaded left-hander handicap, only golfers reading this will understand the struggle. I’d told them prior, but was still convinced of imminent forced ambidexterity.
To my relief, the caddy wheeled out this old, creaky, rusted hand buggy holding a beat up golf bag. Inside were some old, yet recognisable tools of the trade:
I kid you not, that’s a left-handed American Callaway 10° Great Big Bertha II. In North-bloody-Korea. You can also spot a Japanese PRGR Titanium 15° Fairway Wood, even a late 70’s 4-wood endorsed by American pro golfer Arnold Palmer. But, the icing on the cake was the bag itself, one of ‘Firestone Country Club’, an American private golf course located in Ohio, a regular stop on the PGA tour. How a bag of theirs ended up in Pyongyang is anyone’s guess.
Hey, capitalism isn’t so bad after all.
To any golf aficionados reading: The set of irons were branded ‘Marcus’, each club with their own, individual alphanumeric model number. I’ve never heard of this brand, and neither has Google — if anyone can shed any light on this, leave a comment, I’m most curious.
The first hole tee-bed signage. The caddy and I on the first hole tee-bed about to hit off for the day.
Facing me up the 1st fairway was a sharp dogleg to the right, to a left-hander with a tendency to duck-hook it was my dream tee-off to begin the day. Perfect. The Callaway felt comfortable, the cool breeze carving off Lake Taicheng onto my face as I lined up my drive with a mouthful of ice-cold Heineken. So, with the world at my feet and an eager gallery of North Korean minders, I took this confidence and flogged the days opening shot, shanking it straight into the North Korean pine forest to the whipcrack of snapped branches — an all-expense paid safari.
“Oh no…” The caddy remarked timidly, reaching for another ball.
And that my friends, is the story of how I introduced our beloved game of golf to two more residents of Pyongyang.
Out of bounds in North Korea, a shot hit badly enough to be punishable by labour camp, somehow the guides never shied away, instead welcoming yet another ruleset into their lives. Demonstrating the role of each club, I crunched my 4-iron recovery shot straight towards the green to a round of traditional golf claps.
“How do you score?” “Why do you play?” “Do you play alone?” “Where are you hitting?” “Is it difficult?” “Is golf popular in Australia?”
Hey, I’d visited North Korea to ask the questions, now I found myself in the hot seat taken aback by the guides’ genuine curiosity. Without a fundamental understanding of golf, it isn’t much of a spectator sport, I’d anticipated dragging each guide by their collar, both bored with sore feet just as two children kicking and screaming to leave the supermarket.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Having a laugh with Kang, walking between tees.
“You should give it a try!” I exclaimed with a grin. “Are either of you left-handed?”
With looks of inspired uncertainty, Kang jumped at the opportunity only to be shot down as a right-hander and well, Ri had as much clue of her preferred side as she did logging into a Gmail account.
Fortunately (unfortunately?) for them today, I had a little something I prepared earlier, a deviant plan that saw the right-handed 7-iron and fairway wood of another set weasel into my bag, just in case.
And well, with the power of peer pressure, the caddy and I were now operating a North Korean golf clinic.
This is Kang taking some practice swings under the guidance of our caddy.
Ri being a great sport, taking her first ever golf shot. It turns out she was left-handed after all. Her shot went 300 yards, and she followed it up with a hole-in-one on the 7th. What? Prove me a liar, I challenge you!
Kang took a particular liking to golf, firing off balls in quick succession to hasten his mastering of the basics. Into the water, into the pine forest, ground grubbers — he didn’t discriminate, reloading until empty before hurtling down the fairway in a sprint, defying golf etiquette to collect the few that went straight. He was enthusiastic, golf clearly resonated with him and his improvement over the next few holes was staggering.
“What other sports do you play, Kang?” I asked, curious to his ability.
“Football, basketball and volleyball, but only when I’m not busy with tours.” he replied.
I understood what this meant. Not the weekend, not the national holidays nor his days off, but once in a blue moon. North Korean tour guide is an endeared, respected profession — cracking Foreign Language University in an exiled nation is an exclusive club, expectations were back-to-back tours, seven days a week, even if you’d just spent sixteen days on the road. Today was a special treat.
“On occasion, I’ve played basketball against tourists too. But, I haven’t met anyone that’s ever played golf before. I like the sports focusing on hand-eye coordination, the only problem is that I’m very competitive.” He added.
No kidding, I thought.
I’d witnessed sport all over North Korea, from Pyongyang’s privileged few dribbling imported orange basketballs across well maintained public courts, rural outsiders competing at volleyball in netless gravel yards, to those in extreme poverty making do with plastic bottles as makeshift soccer balls in the street. It’s always one of those wake-up calls that we weren’t so different — mutual enjoyment of sport knows no boundaries, and today for me, gone were the political and cultural contrasts and what was left was an Australian and a bunch of North Koreans on a sunny day indulging in some recreational golf.
Kang taking his first ever golf shot. It’s a tough sport to grasp initially, just ask my friends back home. Kang certainly surprised me with his ability.
Holes 1 to 5 of Pyongyang Golf Course were positioned on a peninsula extending into the landlocked Lake Taicheng, and each one had tree line water views. I found this intriguing as I’d been told prior to arrival that photography on these holes was prohibited and strictly enforced, that I’d have to wait until the 6th. An odd rule, I thought, until I discovered the (hard to believe) reasoning — Kim Jong-Un’s luxury yacht. This secluded area within arms-length of Pyongyang city is apparently a holiday getaway for not only Kim Jong-Un himself, but his late father in the past. Each enjoyed sailing their multi-million dollar boats on this relatively small, inland lake that has absolutely no access to the sea. Sounds ludicrous right? Too weird to be true? Just another North Korean myth? Check the screenshot below of Lake Taicheng from Google Maps and decide for yourself.
Kim Jong-Un’s luxury yacht in the landlocked lake Taicheng? Co-ordinates: 38°54’44.6″N 125°26’15.4″E (2016)
That’s unmistakeably a luxury yacht, closer resembling a luxury cruise liner if you ask me, just sitting there in the lake like a rubber duck enclosed in a small bath tub. Here it is relative to Pyongyang Golf Course, you can see the course on the peninsula at the bottom, the boat is just off centre at the top. To the far right, you can see what appears to be a small jetty that leads up to a set of building complexes, take a look at Google Maps — could this be one of Kim Jong-Un’s rural palaces? The findings of mapping project ‘North Korea Uncovered’ seem to agree.
Pyongyang Golf Course clubhouse to the bottom, luxury yacht not far away at the top. Coordinates: 38°53’53.0″N 125°26’09.3″E (2016)
Here’s an example of the view from eye-level heading up one of the fairways. You can see people down near the water working in a mud hole. I have no idea what they were up to.
Settling into my next drive on the 5th, the (initially shy!) caddy, at a volume unsuited to her physical frame, bellowed Korean down the fairway warning all greenkeepers into the pines. Wearing wide-brimmed sun hats and scarves, knelt with plastic bags by their patches of hand-maintained rough, each stood and stared like deer in headlights only to scurry off out of sight. I argued that they’d be safer straight down the middle.
Laughing, the caddy relaxed her strictly professional demeanor, opening up to the guides. “She said you are the first foreigner she’s come across that’s wanted to play the entire course, 18 holes. She thinks you will be very tired,” Ri translated.
“Let her know not to worry, I’d never get tired of touring her fascinating country!” I replied, grinning. I took this opportunity to ask further about her experience here, “Does she know how many players visit each day? Has she caddied for any foreigners?”
“The course is very popular, she says. There are over 40 players enjoying the course here each day.”
Looking around, if it were a movie, there’d be atmospheric crickets. The course sat vacant. We were the only occupants of the 6200-metre grassland complex.
“Foreigners don’t often visit, she says, other than some regular Chinese players. She’s never caddied an Australian before, she thinks you are a fantastic golfer, the best she’s seen so far!” Ri added, giggling.
Not one to dismiss a compliment, I felt she’d overused her creative license here. I’d be more inclined to believe Marshal Kim Jong-Un was sponsoring a portfolio of sick children in Africa than that claim.
“Have any professional golfers visited Pyongyang Golf Course?” I asked. I’d long wondered the answer. “Aside from me, of course!” I snuck in, jokingly.
Nodding, smiling, her eyes glowed before ringing off what sounded like a list of Korean names. Ri repeated many, confirming my suspicions and asked if I had heard of them.
I hadn’t.
“Are those North Korean golfers?” I asked, innocently.
“Yes,” she replied, nodding once more.
There’s been no recorded North Korean professional golf players in history.
Amazed, I had a more direct question I felt would best uncover the whole story — “Have you ever heard of Tiger Woods?”
Met with a confused look of indifference followed by bewilderment when the name didn’t ring any bells, we continued to the 7th hole.
The par 3 7th hole over a water trap.
The picturesque, par 3 water view of the 7th formed the romantic backdrop to where I mustered the confidence to go beyond the pleasantries, to pop the holy question on all of our lips —
— “Kim Jong-Il apparently hit an amazing round of golf here at Pyongyang Golf Course, only 34 shots, have you heard about this?” I asked the caddy.
As a golf caddy, knowing the impossibility of such a score, I expected her to laugh it off and dismiss the anecdote immediately. However without missing a beat, she replied formally and it was translated — “She wasn’t here that day, but she says she is aware of the story, and so are her colleagues.”
Well, for a tale dividing many between either North Korean ‘fact’ or Chinese whisper of pure Western fan-fiction, this was an intriguing response. Seemingly in agreement to its potential legitimacy, whether she was aware of this feat only as a result of prior tourists perpetuating the myth, or from it having a genuine origin within North Korean propaganda, I can’t confidently say.
Either way, it’s recognition here indeed breathed life into what I presumed prior to being a homeless dead horse.
But by any measure, the infamous fable had single-handedly propelled Pyongyang Golf Course onto the international stage. Honestly, it felt surreal to be playing at the source, like an illusion, as if I expected something supernatural despite how irrational that sounds, for my expectations to be met. But no, upon striking the ball it simply clinked off the club head, divot kicking into the air, the ball sailing wayward into the bushes just as it did in Australia, or anywhere else.
Thanks for nothing, Kim.
It wasn’t all play and no work. Kang pictured checking in back at Pyongyang using his mobile phone.
The back 9 was more mechanical than the front, most holes were less inspiring, they were long, straight and inset away from the lake in the heat. It was no Pebble Beach, it wasn’t going to win any design awards, but Pyongyang Golf Course was still quite a challenge. We spent these holes mostly chatting, hacking at the fairway as an aside.
We discussed life in Pyongyang, the guides’ upbringing and education, hobbies, movies and music, even as far as technology, stopping only at politics or any sensitive matters as these sorts of questions were forbidden; best case it’d make them uncomfortable and worst case, it could land them in trouble.
Nonetheless, scratching the surface was a great insight into the Pyongyang elite. It’s hard for me to explain to you. To talk to a group of people that have collectively never watched Pulp Fiction. Crazy, I know.
But, in all seriousness, it’s quite remarkable. On one hand, you have well-educated, privileged and relatable guides living within the most advanced city of North Korea. On the other, these same people are missing an entire section of ‘knowledge’ that we Westerners have otherwise, namely recognition of global branding and pop culture. North Korea is technically the only country in the world without Coca-Cola and nobody has ever tasted a Big Mac. Nobody has ever heard of Google, or made an electronic payment with a Visa or Mastercard. North Korean men are amongst the most prolific smokers on earth but Marlboro is out of reach. What are The Simpsons? The Beatles or Elvis Presley were people that have never existed; I wish I could rediscover Tupac Shakur. And, well: “My friends and I in Australia usually organise our events on Facebook.” You’d better begin by articulating the concept of Facebook, how we access it on our Apple iPhones and then share photos over uncensored 4G networks. It’s quite easy to trip over during conversation.
Orchestral music, primarily female vocals, appeared to be the most popular music between the guides. Interestingly, they’d watched Monsters Inc. and Finding Nemo legally. Many sterile and lightly themed international movies are used in Pyongyang’s Foreign Language University as learning tools and man can be purchased at DVD booths on the streets of Pyongyang, pirated at a State level by Mokran Video Company. I’d come across guides that spoke German, Chinese, Russian, French, Danish and even Vietnamese just for tours. These students had never before met a native speaker outside tours and will usually never be allowed to visit the languages native country.
One of the countless greenkeepers maintaining the course by hand. Better than putting on a furry rug, the green quality isn’t great, yet better than I expected, not far off rural public courses in Australia — just with a higher price tag!
Ri didn’t own a camera, so I let her commandeer mine for the last handful of holes. She took a lot of photos, including many of the photos you see here today (Thanks, Ri!).
Multiple phone calls were made as we played the course, presumably back to Pyongyang. I don’t know why, I wasn’t going to ask either. Mobile phones were common in Pyongyang and other major cities. Mainly ‘bar’ phones, but I’d also spotted flip-phones, even touch screens. Apparently they run legally on a heavily censored internal network named ‘Koryolink’ that has disabled both Internet access, and international calls, unsurprisingly.
The feeling I got was that this kind of censorship was common knowledge to those in Pyongyang.
Throwing a spanner in the works, I asked the guides if they were aware of international current events. They were all aware of the Ukraine Crisis, the Arab Spring and even the Ferguson unrest in the United States — world events are covered in their local newspaper, The Pyongyang Times (albeit in an interesting manner), a daily paper that would put even CNN’s agenda to shame.
Oh and apparently it’s true that by law, each residential home is required to have portraits of both Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il hanging from the wall.
“Look, pheasant!” The guide interjected, changing the topic and misdirecting me away from yet another group of manual labour picking at the rough.
There was no pheasant.
Ri enjoying her round before sinking into the turf thanks to the high heels.
To the 18th. The final hole to the Cold War’s final frontier.
The day’s precedent had long been set and I finished with an anticlimactic bogey thanks to a 3-putt I’m still upset about. I’ve got to do something about those knee-knocker 4-footers. I keep telling myself that.
Anyway, what a day. I’d lost more balls than I’d made pars, the course itself hadn’t been particularly impressive, it was an expensive round, there’d been snakes, and it’d gone considerably overtime. But, it was a round of golf I’ll never forget. We’d had a blast. Good old fashioned fun. In North Korea, where fun wasn’t a word. Ri had discovered she was in fact, a left-hander and Kang had added another sporting love to his repertoire. The caddy had met an Australian. And I’d shown her that we too, were just as bad at golf. There’d been laughter, banter, but most importantly a deeper interaction than I’d otherwise had during the stringent, well-dressed ‘façade’ of North Korea’s take on Pokémon Snap, an organised, government sanctioned tour.
Monuments to Kim Il-Sung had been intriguing, his old age facility fascinating, the Metro Museum bizarre and the Demilitarized Zone’s fake wall perplexing, but to none of these I could comfortably attribute the word ‘fun’, until today, with Pyongyang Golf Course.
Showing off my first and only birdie of the day on the par 4 15th. Dead centre of the fairway where your ball is likely to finish up. I nickname it the moneymaker.
Twilight had set in, and the course sprinkler system had turned on to give us a friendly prod back to the clubhouse, just as I’d fired my last approach shot too — I’ll blame the bogey on that.
“Did you enjoy yourselves?”I asked the guides.
Ri nodded her head, “Yes, it was very relaxing. Thank you.”
She’d made similar comment today after each cleanly hit iron stroke, motioning the flight of the ball with her arm, the kind of shot that sounds and feels great off the hands and which goes sky high towards the green and lands with an enticing thud. It’s a golfers kryptonite. Yes, it was relaxing. She ‘got’ it. Either that or Ri simply enjoyed stressless days at work and long walks on the beach. Don’t ruin it for me.
Kang walked over, shook my hand firmly and thanked me, “It was great. I hope to play golf again soon,” he replied, expressing his gratitude for today’s induction.
He meant it, too.
We looked at each other, knowingly, each mustering a half-smile more telling than any words could be —
— After today, It was unlikely Kang would ever get the opportunity to step foot on a golf course again.
Action shot, look at that form. Kang went from air swinging to transferring his weight and taking a divot within less than 18 holes.
Dusk fast approaching, the invisibility cloak granted by the darkness was analogous to our uninterrupted, peaceful day frolicking woodlands without control or scrutiny, we packed it in and shuttled back to ‘normality’, Pyongyang, North Korean central control, totally offsetting the freedoms I’d savoured today.
Military checkpoints reappeared, frozen in time just as prior. Kim Il-Sung’s static, photogenic grin began to emerge, murals illuminated alone to a backdrop of ghostly Soviet high-rise silhouettes while eerie revolutionary music cut through the spotless, curfewed streets near flag-draped sites of national importance. My stop at the Draft Beer Hall was cut short after ‘illegal’ photos I’d taken inside, and the questions now asked of my guides redefined ‘politically correct’ closer to that found inside George Orwell’s timeless classic 1984 — surveillance in Pyongyang is similarly culturally instilled.
Dinner was segregated alone, a table for one in an empty restaurant — three waitresses, ten plates of food and a seat facing North Korean State Television, Kim Jong-Il was shown inspecting agriculture productivity four years beyond his death.
Fittingly, my day ended where it began, Pyongyang’s very own ‘hotel Alcatraz’, the island-isolated Yanggakdo International, where I’d be imprisoned for one last night.
The hair we’d let down on the golf course had now been pulled back into a neat, compact bun, so to speak — Pyongyang meant business as usual.
Bunkers no longer innocently meant the golf trap filled with sand.
But, it didn’t matter.
A day on Pyongyang Golf Course was a day I almost forgot I was in North Korea.
Want to visit North Korea for yourself? I can help. I’m the tour director at Uri Tours, a North Korea tour operator. For inquiries you can contact me directly at elliott@uritours.com.
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The Kumsusan Palace of the Sun, otherwise known as 'The Mausoleum' is where the bodies of North Korean leaders Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il are publicly displayed within glass sarcophagi. Here's what it's like.
In a Nutshell: The Mausoleum, otherwise known to locals as the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun is the final resting place of North Korean leaders Eternal President Kim Il-Sung and Chairman Kim Jong-Il. Their bodies are displayed inside for public viewing within climate-controlled clear glass sarcophagi. Here’s what it’s like to visit.
About: I’m Elliott. I’m the tour director at North Korea tour operator Uri Tours. I travel a lot myself, sometimes to the unusual, weird and wacky. Earth Nutshell is where I share my experiences. Interested in visiting North Korea for yourself? Shoot me an email at elliott@uritours.com
Afront the hotel room’s wall mirror I straighten my tie, tuck in my cotton shirt and give my dress shoes one final shine. It was early morning in Pyongyang and my daily ritual was today accompanied by the background drone of North Korean State Television — militaristic musical odes to Kim Il-Sung, censored news broadcasts and aged footage of Kim Jong-Il nodding his head towards corn plantations. This was all part of a healthy North Korean breakfast, I was now ready to tackle my day motivated and inspired. Moments later, I was nudged onto a bus headed towards the capital’s outskirts with five state-sanctioned guides on one of the most ‘important’ visitations of my life. Oddly enough, to visit these two aforementioned gentlemen in the flesh. Whom may I add, also died four and twenty-one years ago respectively. Welcome to another day in North Korea.
It had all the hallmarks of a job interview, only it wasn’t. I had a specific timeslot, I felt somewhat nervous, formal attire was mandatory, and most importantly, there was an expectation that I’d be knowledgeable and passionate about a topic that in reality, I knew relatively little about. Yep, certainly felt like a job interview. Either way, this was shaping up to be quite the task after a regrettably late night sinking marinated Snake Soju in the Yangakkdo’s karaoke bar. One slip up or sign of disrespect today, intentional or otherwise, even so much as not bowing when required and I’d be detained and dragged off kicking and screaming to a cell to play cards with Kenneth Bae. Something I paid good money for, by the way.
Goodness, writing that out indeed puts it into perspective.
Pyongyang as seen from the Revolutionary Martyrs’ Cemetary. The compound to the bottom-right of that spiked building (Ryugyong Hotel) is The Mausoleum, also known as the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun.
The destination, known simply as ‘The Mausoleum’ to outsiders is the holiest building in North Korea, an otherwise atheist nation. Inside, the embalmed bodies of Eternal President Kim Il-Sung and since 2011, his son Supreme Leader Kim Jong-Il, lie in state inside climate-controlled clear glass sarcophagi for your viewing pleasure. They’re surrounded by mazing marble hallways, each a trove of their lifelong treasures and accomplishments. Eyes peer at you from every corner whether it be via camera or the abundance of guards. Access is from an underground tunnel hundreds of metres away — in many ways, a leaf has been taken from Egypt’s book of pyramid interior design. The unmistakeable stock portraits of each, representative of what feels like every street corner of Pyongyang hang defiantly on the restricted walls outside, where each visitor must bow to their likeness.
Really, this building is no joke. One of biblical proportions fenced in by State laws ironically denouncing religion as punishable by death. Juche, a political ideology of ‘self-reliance’ with religious undertones is the flavour of North Korea’s belief system and is practised by all North Korean citizens. Not by choice. Kim Il-Sung coined the ideology, initially as ‘Kimilsung-ism’ (seriously) and hence, retains the throne as the demi-god to all ‘believers’. The Jerusalem, Mecca, Temple Mount – whatever, this building is North Korea’s equivalent, romanticised to locals only as the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun.
Young soldiers arriving at the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun to pay their respects.
Our guides lined us up single file prior to entry, offering a rundown on proceedings ahead and etiquette required. No speaking, stand straight with hands to your sides, remain in line and always bow when required. So, together we marched forwards into this misplaced extravagance like baby chicks behind mother hen in a way that took me back to childhood scouts camp.
First came the ‘cloakroom’, all belongings aside from the shirt on my back was handed across in place of a numbered ticket for collection when we were to leave. Unfortunately, here is where I must break the news to you that this included our cameras, hence neither I nor anybody else has photos from inside these secretive walls. To ensure we weren’t wacky enough to pull a swift one in Kim Il-Sung’s old-age facility, a metal detector was conveniently placed ahead to uncover any paraphernalia. A tough place for a selfie, sorry guys, it just wasn’t possible.
Curiously, local North Korean visitors had further security screening including having their photos taken and an iris scan before being whisked out a different door. Why, or where this led, I don’t know. We then encountered a fancy automated shoe cleaner before being released into a spotlessly polished white marble hall stretching as far as the eye could see.
All North Korean women wear traditional dress on such an important visitation. Civilians of all ages make the pilgrimage from all over the country.
Here, we begin our journey into the palace. Let me set the scene for you:
One kilometre of travelator. Movement speed: Snail. No walking allowed. Glorious, orchestral music of Great Korea. Lining the walls were hundreds upon hundreds of large, gold-framed photographs straight out of Bowser’s Castle on Super Mario 64. Each photograph was either a press-release snap of Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il accomplishing the world within North Korea or an illustration of warm foreign relations with other world-power heavyweights. Think Castro, Ghadaffi, Mao, Stalin, Putin, Ho Chi Minh…and U.S president Jimmy Carter. They’re all there. One big happy family. Handshakes and ear-to-ear grins were focal points to every photo. The atmosphere was surreal. This is the North Korea I expected to see.
This travelator took at least twenty minutes, if not more. Of course, this was no accident, this was our time to mourn and reflect upon the lives of two men who made the North Korean Dream a reality for all. Meanwhile, a glance outside the adjacent window nearing the palace revealed at least fifteen ‘privileged’ Pyongyang women gardening a single grass patch simultaneously using makeshift brooms constructed from sticks.
The privileged working class of Pyongyang. When labour is cheap, or free and in high supply, this is how gardens are maintained.
Ushers direct our path into the palace, where ceremonial flowers are presented at the feet of two giant white marble statues of both leaders. The room was dim, tall, and spacious, like a church hall, where even the silence would echo. Dramatic red light presented each sculpture, a representation of North Korea’s national shade. Korean People’s Army officials stand to each side, separated by Korean Worker’s Party flags and brandishing silver AK47’s. We synchronously bow at the designated line.
Originally, this building was Kim Il-Sung’s official residence, in many ways The White House. Eventually, it was transformed into his final resting place by Kim Jong-Il after his father’s death in 1994. It was estimated at a staggering $500-$900 million USD renovation. It was no cheap venture. Coincidently during this year until 1998, North Korea endured its worst famine in history where up to 3.5 million died from starvation or hunger-related illnesses as state allocated rations dropped to 20% of what the Worlds Food Program describes as a ‘survival ration’. Read into that what you wish, but there’s no denying the allocation of State resources during this time was irresponsible.
Patriotic monument featured in the gardens of the Mausoleum.
A lavish, golden regally decored lift you’d sooner expect in a 5-star deluxe hotel then ascended us to the waiting room preceding Kim Il-Sung’s Mausoleum.
Men dressed in black, the North Korean equivalent of the United States Secret Service were on every corner and doorway to the tall, open space room. Each had concealed pistols in holsters — the only time I saw officials like this in the entire country. It was quite loud on this floor and we swiftly discovered why; enormous air blowers had been installed to take every speck of dust from our attire before we’d be blessed with the Shining Sun’s presence. For a moment there, I almost felt like a plastic bag…drifting through the wind. Sorry, mistimed The Interview reference. But by any measure, gone was my perfectly styled buzz cut.
We regrouped and on our guides’ direction were eventually allowed inside.
The room was dark, a curtained space of marble floor and wall dimmed in red lighting with the spotlight to the centre in the chamber.
And there he was. The man himself. Eternal President Kim Il-Sung.
Lying on a tabletop inside the crystal glass sarcophagus as promised lay his lifeless body of the last 21 years. That’s a long time, dead and preserved long enough to be of legal drinking age in Arizona. Perspective. His body was draped in the red flag of the Workers’ Party of Korea, upper torso visible in a dark suit jacket and his shiny, almost waxy head angled upwards by a pillow. Madame Tussauds would be proud. To be honest, he looked a little too well-preserved – although one of my guides did mention the Mausoleum undergoes closure some months of the year for, well, corpse maintenance. Surrounding his casing were downward sloping beds of flowers. Not just any flower mind you, but the fabled pink Kimilsungia. I’m not making this up.
Our line, now filled with local visitors, all with Kim Il-Sung’s head pinned upon their heart, advance forward melding into groups of four at the front. This was in preparation for a bow, the most important one in North Korea — a bow to the Nation’s wise, respected, brilliant and unique father. The source of North Korea’s undying prosperity.
Now, this here is one of those times that as a tourist in North Korea, your social-justice warrior act of defiance by refusing to bow would lead to your arrest for political crimes. Korean People’s Army officials breathe down your neck from the room’s outskirts, watching intently as each group approaches Kim Il-Sung to bow. Not once, but three times, may I add. Once at the feet, once on the left and once on the right – but absolutely not at the head. As of course, that would allude to looking down upon the man representative of the peak of greatness.
As I completed the formality, I felt quite relieved such a simple requirement was done and dusted. It was quite tense. As we exited, another tourist and I exchanged gazes as if to say ‘Well, yep, he’s certainly dead…I don’t know what else we were expecting’. It was a strange visit.
But, of course, this is North Korea, and it got stranger.
Beautifully manicured gardens to the front of the Mausoleum. The gardens are a popular spot for local visitors to take group photos of their visit.
The following number of rooms were laid out as shrines, linear walk-throughs with hundreds, if not thousands of Kim Il-Sung’s ‘achievements’ — medals, certifications, plaques, and trophies. I use quotes here because the legitimacy of these could be questioned at best and were straight up fraudulent at worst. Most were from within North Korea, however, there were display cabinets sectioned for each continent. Every democratic country was represented, as were international private enterprises (tsk tsk). To expand, there was a Ph.D. certification from Kensington University in California, upon closer inspection, a for-profit unaccredited diploma mill since closed by authorities. ‘Keys to the City’ were given and displayed proudly for an obscure district within a small province of the Cusco region of Peru’s Southern Highlands. The ‘Peace Award’ of Africa was showcased, a large golden trophy, as was the ‘Honorary Citizenship of Ecuador’. There was even an award for ‘peace, justice and humanity’ exhibited with pride from an Indonesian foundation. Scholarly robes were hung, encased in glass aside all his educational accreditations.
It was utterly bizarre. The focus on perceived international importance was certainly evident here, which I found most ironic considering North Korea’s enforced boycott of the outside world.
Countless medals sat inside open velvet casings laden in silk, illuminated by bright light — Hero of the Republic, Hero of Labour, Medal of Agriculture Merits, Military Service Honour and commemorative items of the Great Fatherland Liberation War. The list went on. The medal ‘For The Victory Over Japan’ lay next to the Japanese Peace Medal. Poetic. Alike the robes, military uniforms were also encased in glass cabinets beside these medals.
Kim Jong-Il’s achievement room was similar, he notably received the International Kim Il-Sung Prize Certificate, awarded for (and this is the exact wording): …the distinguished contribution to the sacred cause of independence and peace on the globe through application of the great Juche idea. Round of applause, Kim.
Kim Jong-Il’s mausoleum was likewise almost exactly as his fathers’, with the same formal entry process including another air blower – I’ll save you the detail. However I will mention that he wasn’t wearing his signature sunglasses (I was genuinely surprised), he was outfitted in that darn olive zip-up suit he wore literally everywhere, and he also looked as if he’d just had a fresh haircut. He didn’t look more or less dead than his father. Well, that was a weird sentence to type. Anyway, oh, and, of course, he wasn’t surrounded by Kimilsungilia’s. Don’t be silly. It was the red Kimjongilia instead. Once again, not making this up.
The Kimjongilia. It’s a type of begonia, ‘Kimjongilhwa’ and was Kim Jong-Il’s favourite flower.
At this point, we expected that to be a wrap. We’d paid our respects and been reminded of all the fascinating accomplishments. But wait, there’s more. Just like a 4am infomercial.
North Korea have an unhealthy obsession with preserving sentimental items. Items used or even touched by the leaders become in many ways holy. Chairs Kim Il-Sung sat upon and the stationary he used have been encased in glass viewing boxes and even areas Kim Jong-Il has walked upon are regularly engraved with a red ‘X’. So, what happens to a demi-god’s significant belongings after death?
How about, for example, his yacht?
Yep, it’s here. In the building. They had to temporarily knock down a wall, but they got it inside. It’s surrounded by framed photographs of Kim Jong-Il enjoying life aboard, the room’s walls are even engraved in gold Korean Hangul of the boat’s history. Both great men owned a Mercedes too which are on display, as is Kim Jong-Il’s golf cart used in his later years, all of which are propped up on marble blocks and roped off like a Maserati sales showroom.
But Kim Jong-Il’s private train takes the cake. The very carriage he died inside of a suspected heart attack sits within a custom built room, interactive boards on the walls show in intricate detail all the locations worldwide the train had visited. He was afraid of flying.
One of the guides explained – “Supreme Leader Kim Jong-Il died of overwork, he was under great mental and physical strain, it was sudden, and the train here is exactly as he left it.”
Peering through the train window, a porthole into his private life, there was a 17” MacBook Pro on his desk. I can’t say I expected that. Well, this settles it ladies and gents, Macs are better than PC. Papers were sprawled over his final workspace without overlap, his boots perfectly straightened and his seat faced us photogenically as if for a real-estate shoot. His living space sure was clean. Immaculate, in fact. No man other than Dear Leader is this tidy.
It’s worth noting that South Korean intelligence confirmed that Kim Jong-Il’s train did not move in the days leading up to, or on the alleged day of Kim Jong-Il’s death.
The blue and white traditional dress was the preferred attire of local tour guides and those in formal roles in all parts of the country.
We began to exit the palace the same way we entered, passing hundreds of North Korean civilians arriving for their mandatory visitation. Every person, whether man, woman or child, old, young or disabled must visit their Beloved Father at least once in their lifetime, by law. Those visiting from rural areas were obvious, their faces showing distinct signs of malnourishment and were dressed in silk suit jackets on their bare sun-blazoned skin. Many smiled at us as they shuffled past. Most were indifferent and seemingly numb to the experience. All were noticeably short, only as tall as my shoulder, and I’m not a large bloke.
Our last stop was one that appropriately summed up the visit, an impact statement to us on the effect of the Eternal President’s death worldwide. This room was the Hall of Lamentation. An empty room with a single red rug and beautiful low hanging chandeliers, the walls containing framed depictions of North Korean and, strikingly, international outpourings of grief during the 10-day state endorsed ‘mourning period’ following that unforgettable news. It’s almost as if they’ve something to prove. I don’t remember seeing this on the news in Australia. But, I may have slept in that day.
Then, we line up and bow one last time and finally, we left the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun.
Wow.
That was my reaction. I don’t think any other word could sum it up. I wanted North Korea and well, I got North Korea in the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun.
I couldn’t miss the opportunity. I don’t think a smile was that well received, however.
I wouldn’t say I was surprised, but it was certainly confronting to see that in this country infamous for decades of human rights violations, those responsible are indeed still held up as demi-gods by most, serving not as the embodiments of repression, but instead as inspiration to a population oblivious to their very misfortune. This was evident, and, it was real. The endearment and heartache for these fallen men appeared disturbingly authentic. The Kumsusan Palace of the Sun is by all accounts a perfectly choreographed propaganda art piece of indoctrinated North Korean faith, it’s what to believe, how to believe and when to believe it. In North Korea, there is no freedom of knowledge, the citizens know no other, Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il have long been their only providers. They’ve put the food on their tables, built their homes, arranged their jobs and led the fatherland to patriotic ‘victory’ against invaders.
Here, in this palace, they give their thanks.
Yet, it’s worth remembering that in societies governed by religion, secular (or non-believer) cells will always exist. North Korea is no different. Those that fit into this category, no small number by any means, will also visit the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun. They will do so with their mouths shut. That’s the beauty of a totalitarian regime. For those of you left wondering the million dollar question:”Do they actually believe in it, though?” I’d say the answer is yes and the answer is no. North Korean’s are led down the garden path since birth but no, they’re not the blank canvasses of naivety we like to pretend. In their world, critical thinking is an invention and not taught, and the entire population is forcefully left in a condition of infantilism by a repressive regime where death is given to dissenters — all I’m saying is that the light at the end of the tunnel is further for them than it is for us, but many still see it. Defectors aren’t leaving North Korea because they’ve full faith in the Juche idea.
We strolled through the Mausoleum grounds afterwards, swans resting peacefully in the surrounding moat. There was a pervasive feeling of confusion among us with the atmosphere similar to that of a post-funeral reception. We were hesitant to bring cheer back into the situation so soon around our passionate guides.
As we left, others began to arrive destined for the same exhausting induction. Lines of school children march past us in formation, wide-eyed and entrusting in their school teacher, leading them similar to that of the pied piper. They were innocent, still learning the ropes of life, only yet a basic grasp of expectations and values, responsibilities and purpose, rights and wrongs — no different to young children anywhere else in the world.
Seconds later I look back to see these children stopped and assembling for a professional photograph to a backdrop unlike anywhere else in this world.
The next generation.
P.S – What are your thoughts on the Mausoleum? Are North Korean people truly indoctrinated, or governed primarily by fear? I’d love to hear what you think in the comments below! Cheers, Elliott.
Want to visit North Korea for yourself? I can help. I’m the tour director at Uri Tours, a North Korea tour operator. For inquiries you can contact me directly at elliott@uritours.com.
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As the tale goes, the 'Concrete Wall' is a barrier erected by South Korea to split the Korean peninsula in half, segregating North Korea and preventing reunification. Does it really exist? Or is it simply North Korean propaganda?
In a Nutshell: As the tale goes, spanning the entirety of the Korean Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) sits the ‘Concrete Wall’, a barrier built by South Korea to split the Korean peninsula in half, segregating North Korea into isolation and preventing reunification. During a visit to North Korea, I was taken to view this seemingly undocumented wall. So, does it really exist? Or is it simply North Korean propaganda? Fact or fiction — read ahead to hear my take!
“The wall is a result of the hostile policy pursued by the USA and South Korea against unification,” exclaims Kim Chang Yun, a trusted colonel of the Korean People’s Army with over forty years service. Within earshot, I was otherwise preoccupied gazing intently down the twin barrels of 1990’s finest binoculars, panning for refracted light resembling that of the Concrete Wall, North Korea’s own fabled Loch Ness Monster.
I was on the front line of Korea’s Demilitarized Zone inside a cold stone bunker preceded by a crumbling overgrown trench laced with moss. To my left, a sandbagged outpost situated on the high ground manned by three Korean People’s Army soldiers, one was resting, leant up against a mounted machine gun.
Together, we all stared across into South Korea. The enemy. At least for the duration of my visit. Do as the Romans do, it’s never felt quite so important. By being inside North Korea it was my legal obligation.
“Do you see it?” I asked a fellow tourist, seeking solace in a majority decision.
“Not yet” he responded, optimistically.
What’s the big deal anyway? It’s just a wall, I hear you thinking. Well, the Concrete Wall spans 240 kilometres across the entire Korean peninsula, cutting it in half. Built by South Korea, it’s said to physically segregate the North from the South. The wall is 5-8 metres high, 10-19 metres thick and dotted with military establishments and lookouts. Think the Great Wall of China, except in Korea, and as relevant today as the one in China many moons ago.
Interestingly, North Korea’s exclusive news source named KCNA claims that the wall can only be seen from the North Korean side.
Whatever that means.
Yet, this was a claim backed equally by each of my five North Korean guides.
A farming mural featuring Eternal President Kim Il-Sung and Chairman Kim Jong-Il. Crops as far as the eye can see, a celebration of agricultural prosperity. This mural was in a countryside town on the way to the Concrete Wall. The trench leading up to the Concrete Wall’s viewing bunker.
The wall’s discovery was in 1989 by North Korea’s posthumous Eternal President Kim Il-Sung, just mere weeks after the fall of the Berlin Wall (perhaps not a coincidence?). It’s become a mainstay in North Korean victimisation propaganda and the catalyst to political instability on the peninsula ever since. Each New Year the South is shamelessly reminded of its existence. Proposed policies are misdirected back to that darn Concrete Wall, the “barrier of national division” as Dear Leader put it, which forcefully suppresses his people’s right to freedom and tireless North Korean attempts at reunification. Yes, that’s the official line.
In North Korea, the injustice of the Concrete Wall is widely known by all as it’s systematically indoctrinated from a young age. It’s their Pearl Harbour.
In South Korea, it’s a well-guarded secret.
You’ve never heard of it. Neither had I. But today I’ve been driven almost an hour parallel to the Demilitarized Zone for a chance to witness it for myself.
The only problem to all of this is: The Concrete Wall didn’t appear to exist.
Colonel Kim Chang Yun has been loyal to the Korean People’s Army for over 40 years. He has now been given the role to induct visitors on the intricacies of the Concrete Wall.
Before our viewing, we were formally addressed by Colonel Kim Chang Yun. He spoke with an air of superiority and passion, an influential charisma hand-picked by Marshal Kim Jong-Un himself for this trusted role. Not just any role, his job description involves delicate foreigner interaction which is an impossibility for regular citizens. Those given such an opportunity are strictly vetted to ensure quality control at a State level.
His voice echoed around the room like a lecture theatre as he aggressively tapped the wall, mapping it out with his stick.
“The wall’s main objective is to stage a military strike against the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, to strike us with ease,” he began, an aspect he ensured we understood.
Today wasn’t his first rodeo. Scripted or otherwise, there was passion. You can see this passion in the eyes of North Korean guides the country over. It’s clear this topic was his life’s work.
To his left, the exact dimensions of the wall were inscribed on the map as if personally measured. As were the construction dates.
Vivid descriptions and artistic impression bring the wall to life for the North Korean people. The wall is easily imagined, maliciously constructed by the ‘puppet’ South Korean forces under American imperialist order, coincidentally aligning into a preexisting blanket hatred of the United States.
“The Americans are responsible for all the pain and suffering of our nation.” Colonel Kim Chang Yun remarks.
This is an opinion held by every North Korean citizen, it’s the cornerstone to their nationalistic pride. They learn it early, this deep victim complex has personified North Korea for decades and it remains stronger than ever into the 21st century, a concept difficult to comprehend in the age of information.
Really, I can’t appropriately explain to you how odd it is to visit North Korea. To one moment be scrolling censored social media in China to landing in Pyongyang, the capital hub of freedom deprivation so intrinsic that it makes China look like Switzerland. I’m not just talking in the physical sense either, nor freedom of expression, but with freedom of knowledge. I know what to expect but this really hits me on visits to North Korea. There is no internet, no public libraries, no international texts and all news broadcasts are censored. Even the music is state approved and endorsed. This has led to critical thinking existing merely as an urban myth otherwise punishable by ‘reeducation’. Within these borders you know what to believe and when to believe it, there is nothing contradicting this learning environment.
What I’m getting at is that in North Korea the Concrete Wall isn’t exactly a tough sell.
Internationally, the United States and South Korea officially deny the walls existence. They acknowledge only anti-tank barriers at certain DMZ sections where populations of people are closely subset on each side, or at sections of strategic importance. Diplomats and even journalists have in the past been given unprecedented military access to these areas as an attempt to discount North Korean claims. This offer was even cheekily extended to North Koreans themselves, government or citizen. Nobody took up the offer.
“If the walls existence were acknowledged internationally, there would be negative repercussions, that’s why they keep denying it” the Colonel argued, a brief and straightforward explanation.
This, of course, is why we were here. Not to marvel at the walls beauty, history or it’s impeccable structural integrity — today’s privileged visit to the Concrete Wall is a cleverly disguised international vehicle for the ‘truth.’ Run home and spread the word Americans, your government has lied to you.
During visits to North Korea I find one thing to be clear, that there is always an ulterior motive to sanctioned tourist visitations. Visiting statues of Kim Il-Sung unveils the extent of national endearment and compliance to Dear Leader, the local parks are generally filled with successful Pyongyangladites representing a higher quality of life, the Grand People’s Study House show us North Korea has computers, even network access, and the Three Revolutions Exhibition is a display of nuclear capability, while evidence of American war crimes lies inside the Sinchon Museum of American War Atrocities. Even the carefully selected supermarkets I’ve visited were fully stocked with Chinese goods, a nod to foreign trade and a far cry from the food shortage ‘rubbish’ you’ve heard on CNN.
And the Concrete Wall? Akin to the captured American ship USS Pueblo docked with pride in the Taedong River, one of North Korea’s most influential political centrepieces, it’s proof of American aggression. The Concrete Wall also demonstrates proof of outward exile by South Korea, while of course, the Great Leader sits on his yacht falling over himself in attempts to reunify both Koreas. The Concrete Wall is perfect.
The Colonel proceeded to commend us for our bravery in visiting the wall today and like an excited child eager to show off his toys, invited us outside to bear witness to this disgustingly transparent piece of injustice for ourselves.
This is the view across into South Korea with the naked eye. The entire thing is a minefield. Do you see the Concrete Wall?
It was a peaceful, clear day and the naked eye saw far into enemy lines where nothing of particular interest stood out. Small birds, sparrows, zipped passed my vision unaware of their residential danger.
I was handed the binoculars.
I must admit, I raised the binoculars as a critic. Call me even cynical. I challenge you not to be after even a short time within the hermit kingdom. North Korean tourism consciously bathes you in political bias and educational nurturing, it substitutes your reality with their own. So, to be confronted by a poorly cut wall stencil taped across the lens wasn’t too far-fetched an expectation for a country reminiscent of a living, breathing version of 1998’s The Truman Show.
My sceptical face as I look across 4km of minefield into South Korea, a country so close yet seemingly worlds away.
As I pan the landscape, soft orchestral music emitted from rusted old speakers once used to deliver unsavoury messages to those cowards ‘living in poverty and disease epidemic’ in the South. South Korean military installations in my sights splash painted signage: “Come and see for yourself!” A temptation for curious North Korean eyes.
A minefield spanning east to west, you’d never have an inkling as dense green bushland concealed the evidence. The land was dissected only by mud paths lined with razor wire. South Korean soldiers gazed back from tall outposts, partially hidden not unlike mushrooms emerging from the shrubs below.
Two South Korean outposts far beyond the border facing me in North Korea.
Like ants marching the hilltops, industrial buildings and even moving cars and were visible in the distance, representative of an economy 60 years North Korea’s senior. Only four kilometres away their position was only accessible to me as a 5,000 kilometre detour through Beijing, China. A sobering thought.
A South Korean barracks facing North Korea. Each was surrounded by a clearing of three layers of razor wire.
Cameras, observation towers and bunkers all draped in camouflage dot the landscape, each with three perimeters of razor wire and electric fencing. Not the most inviting of neighbourhoods, but arguably still better than Detroit.
Both the South Korean and distinctly blue United Nations flags sailed defiantly high above the installation’s walls.
Could this be evidence of the fabled Concrete Wall?
And then…I took this photo. The money shot, as they say.
Deep inside enemy lines, thanks to the full zoom of my approved lens I captured what appears to be a wall. One that very well could be made from concrete. It was only a small section and it disappeared with the contour of the land into thick forestry on either side of the frame.
Could this be what the North Koreans were talking about? Was the Concrete Wall more than simply a propaganda folk tale? Lean in and see what you make of it. Myth busted? Case closed? Possibly…to my surprise.
Alternatively, maybe it’s not that simple. This is North Korea, a country so well versed in the art of misdirection that even David Copperfield would go broke. I felt there was more to the wall than meets the eye.
Wikipedia mentions the Concrete Wall. Not exactly a primary source. But previous travelers to North Korea on TripAdvisor swear they’ve seen it, and two previously documented accounts of the Concrete Wall have come to the same conclusion that it exists. Yet, somehow facts remain limited and official statements don’t exist. Oh, and just as our prehistoric Scottish friend, photos are as scarce as hens teeth.
Why? How can an architectural feat of this magnitude be so well hidden since 1987?
Interestingly, on further investigation both of these documented accounts of the Concrete Wall viewed it from afar just as I did. In fact they were from the exact bunker in which I currently stood. Both documented accounts were guided by the same North Korean Colonel and each left with photographic ‘evidence’ remarkably similar to my own. So similar that their photos of the wall were almost identical, even from the same angle.
What I felt was most odd however, was that I had already visited the DMZ (the Joint Security Area) earlier today but to get a glimpse of the Concrete Wall I had to be driven one hour parallel into countryside North Korea. For a wall spanning the entire DMZ, you can’t help but wonder: Why only here?
This was perplexing. Venturing beyond the beaten path, beyond the on-rails sanctioned tourism façade down clean streets and sterile political locales was breaking the first rule of the North Korean playbook. Especially here, far from the ‘safety’ of Pyongyang. The detour displayed rural harsh realities of poverty, malnourishment and struggle. It was a questionable cost-benefit outcome, one that was previously controlled meticulously by authorities. Was the wall really that important?
Photos I took on this detour were deleted at the border. Luckily for you, I had backups so here’s a couple from the bus window. They give a more accurate representation of what living conditions are like in this region.
I witnessed this just prior to the viewing bunker, only kilometres from the militarised border. North Korean’s would rather foreigners don’t see this. For some reason, the wall’s importance justified the one-hour unfiltered drive here. Beyond the major cities cars simply don’t exist. Private car ownership is (for practical purposes) illegal, they represent an astronomical cost to the average North Korean. Nationwide fuel shortage and little disposable income reinforce cycling as the primary means of transport.
Rural farming housing. Cement buildings of questionable structural integrity in a countryside town. Those are corn plants, a life giver in many areas of the country. Another weathered farming community. Farmland is sectioned, farmed and a portion of the crops is collected by the State.
Aside from this carefully selected viewing bunker, other intricacies of the wall simply didn’t add up.
North Korean authorities have long claimed the wall was unethically built both to prevent free passage of their citizens into the South, and as a platform for South Korean and American military aggression against them. In reality, the North has been the one to lay carpets of minefields to prevent their citizens from leaving, and the South have embraced North Korean defectors who’ve made it across unscathed. The Concrete Wall is also hardly a feasible platform of war, it would impede the South’s own military advancement. If what the North says is true, the entire premise of the Concrete Wall just seems counter intuitive. I can’t imagine a 5-8 metre wall is easy to traverse by a tank.
And well, to hit the nail on the head…that’s exactly right.
This realisation slapped me across the face.
I’m no history buff, but let’s head back to June 25, 1950. Rhis was the date marking the beginning of the Korean War. Kim Il-Sung ordered his North Korean forces across the 38th parallel and orchestrated an invasion of the South, eventuating in the capital being captured in just three days, met with little resistance. This became known as the ‘First Battle of Seoul’.
How does this relate? Well, it was a tank invasion. Take one guess where the tanks crossed.
Yep. Right here.
As the crow flies, Seoul is just 50 kilometres away and without barrier this was a natural weak point suitably exploited to begin the war. As George W. Bush once (attempted) to articulate: ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me’. And so, the gap was filled, tank barriers were erected and they’ve been acknowledged as such by both American and South Korean forces ever since.
There is no wall. We were viewing tank barriers. We were being had, in true North Korean style.
Just as the Loch Ness Monster, what began as hearsay and myth has manifested into a perceived, accepted reality with hard penned facts. Political motive and state theatrics ensured no limits. The wall has a tail, flippers and a long visible neck that can be spotted only at the right time, from the right angle, and only if you’re quick enough. To quote the movie Swordfish, ‘what the eyes see and the ears hear, the mind believes.’ This is North Korean tourism.
For the locals? Information is suppressed, citizens know as they’re told. The Great Leader is forged as a demi-god and is supported by an entire nation till death. The Concrete Wall can be as long as he damn well pleases. This one is happens to be 240 kilometres.
Some minutes later, I got the tap on the shoulder. It was time to wrap things up. We had a busy schedule to stick to.
Colonel Kim Chang Yun was stood to my right, his posture perfectly straight with not a blemish upon his militarised olive suit and novelty-sized peak cap. A plethora of medals sat upon his heart. He waited, intent on relishing in the reaction of what I had just seen, physical evidence of American aggression and transparent restrictions imposed on free passage into the South.
“Do you see it?” he asked in Korean, translated by my guide.
I lowered my binoculars, turning toward him only to be greeted by a glowing smirk of confidence upon his face, a smirk that could say no other than ‘I told you so.’
I paused for a moment.
“Yes.” I responded.
“I do.”
P.S – So, what’s your opinion? Is the wall simply North Korean misdirection or does it span the peninsula? Wall or merely tank trap? Let me know in the comments below! Cheers, Elliott
Barbed wire line all fences. Tank traps enclose us. The remainder is a laden, active minefield where one million soldiers stand guard. Join me on a tour inside Korea's Demilitarized Zone (DMZ), from the North Korean side.
In a Nutshell: The Korean Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) splits the Korean peninsula in half creating a buffer zone between North Korea and South Korea. It’s the most militarized border on earth. Ever wonder what it’s like to visit the DMZ? Better yet, visit the DMZ from the North Korean side? Let me give you a virtual tour. Beginning in Pyongyang due south to Panmunjom, here’s what you can expect on a trip to the world’s most dangerous border.
About: I’m Elliott. I’m the tour director at North Korea tour operator Uri Tours. I travel a lot myself, sometimes to the unusual, weird and wacky. Earth Nutshell is where I share my experiences. Interested in visiting North Korea for yourself? Shoot me an email at elliott@uritours.com.
Barbed wire lined all fences, tank traps enclosed us and the remainder was a laden, active minefield. One million soldiers stood guard overseeing from outposts, gazing across the border into forbidden lands once unified and the eyes of the South Korean military. The peace treaty was never signed, the war between the North and South of Korea still rages over 60 years on, at least technically, anyway, and the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ), the border between two countries now worlds apart, serves as the best reminder. Here in the eye of the storm at Panmunjom a one-metre misstep could see you shot or carted away to a North Korean ‘re-education’ camp.
It seems dramatic, but that is the reality. There may not be bullets flying overhead or active servicemen crossing the border, but tensions are high. Since the Korean Armistice Agreement was penned in 1953 there has been over 1000 ‘fracases’ and a further approximate 50 serious incidents here, including one recently where a young North Korean soldier defected into South Korean hands across this very border to the east.
It was an exciting prospect to visit the DMZ for myself. I was well versed in the history here and so had clear expectations, however, visiting from the exclusivity of the North Korean side meant a spanner was thrown in the works; I was told to forget all I’d learnt in foreign textbooks about the DMZ and the Korean War in preparation for an ‘alternative’ version of events I’d be briefed on by my Korean People’s Army chaperones. I was told not to argue. I couldn’t wait.
Beyond this, I was itching to get a glimpse of how North Korea handled their side of the DMZ. How strict were they? Was it loaded with propaganda? Was everyone on edge? Was physical militarization visible? Machine guns? Tanks? Either way, I forecasted a massive contrast to the tourist-friendly, dumbed down Disneyland-like characterisation you get on a tour from the South Korean side. I just couldn’t imagine North Korea treating the DMZ in such a playful manner.
In fact, if it was anything like the rest of North Korea, I can expect to bow at some point, to receive stern looks from all I meet, a set of draconian rules, stringent government minders monitoring me at all times…and military checkpoints, lots of them. Apparently, though, the DMZ is also the only place in North Korea I won’t be shot for photographing a soldier. Which is cool. I wanted to see how that goes.
Getting to the DMZ – Leaving Pyongyang
Overnight was in Pyongyang in the fabled Yanggakdo Hotel towering alone on its segregated island in the Taedong River. Away from reality. This meant an 8:15am departure marked the beginning of our three-hour bus trip south, to the most dangerous border on earth.
Pyongyang at all hours is dead quiet, only the metallic sounds of factory production and industrial barges break the silence, an eerie mist fills the skyline. The Yanggakdo Hotel lobby populates early for tour departures, mainly Chinese tourists — by 9am the hotel is a deserted, creepy ghost town and the receptionists cut power to the entire 47-floor building until evening. Tourists aren’t permitted in the hotel alone during daytime hours, if you’re sick, you’re assigned a minder and as usual, legally aren’t even allowed to leave.
Our hotel to the right, Juche tower in the distance and northern Pyongyang to the left.
Abandoning island isolation, our bus shuttled across Pyongyang. An exciting day excursion ahead for myself, but for Pyongyang’s inhabitants under the rule of North Korea’s totalitarian regime, it was just another day.
Pyongyang’s working class pack bus shelters in fifty-metre long lines snaking across roads and around corners. Korean People’s Army soldiers can be spotted overseeing mundane tasks, intimidating those sweeping streets, watering or weeding garden beds. Residents roam sparsely, by foot or cycle — everybody moves with purpose. There’s no loitering, gathering or socialising, there’s no litter and there’s no advertising. North Korea would also have you believe there’s no homeless, in reality, people that bring the model city of Pyongyang into disrepute are displaced outside of it. The colour pallet was dull, citizens are styled in monotone dim shades of clothing similar to that of surrounding crumbling, faded Soviet apartment blocks. Green parks and sunny riverbanks are empty. Eternal Leader Kim Il-Sung and Supreme Leader Kim Jong-Il sit on the best real-estate, supervising their Stalinist masterpiece years beyond their death. They’re inescapable, their glowing smiles brightening walls, billboards and murals. They’re personified by statues, on television screens inspecting ginseng cultivation and every room exhibits portraiture of their heads. By law.
To say this city is repressive is an understatement.
Good morning, Pyongyang.
“Long live the great revolutionary traditions of our party, hooray!” — “National Reunification, frequent self-defence.” The Arch of Triumph, Pyongyang. Yep, we aren’t in France.
The road out of Pyongyang. Eerily desolate for a capital city. Some Chinese-made vehicles can be spotted.
At the outskirts of Pyongyang, we cross underneath the oddly ironic, yet marvellous Arch of Reunification forming a humbling southern gateway to the city. The metropolis ends here. Instantly. It’s akin to bursting through a bubble, a distinct disconnect between the privilege inside and the poverty beyond. What follows is a desolate rural no-mans-land without end in sight. This is the Pyongyang-Kaesong Motorway.
The Arch of Reunification, the southern gateway to the city of Pyongyang. I am facing north looking into the city.
Unofficially labelled the Reunification Highway, the Pyongyang-Kaesong motorway is a six-lane controlled access link between well…Pyongyang and Kaesong (through Sariwon), and hence to the DMZ. There’s no traffic to speak of, however as we discovered there’s no shortage of military checkpoints. Creepily, signs on this highway specify distances to Seoul, South Korea rather than the DMZ. I found this fascinating — was it a remnant of a time since passed, or simply a reunification misdirection for the tourists driven down here? I am unsure.
You’ve actually likely seen this motorway before, it’s regularly featured in foreign media segments of North Korea, including that Vice documentary you’ve watched. Trips to the DMZ are a mandatory inclusion to most Pyongyang tourism itineraries and is usually the only time tourists are allowed out of the political smokescreen of Pyongyang. After a six-year long waiting list, foreign journalists can also be given permission to film in North Korea and are almost always taken down this route. They aren’t allowed to film out the window. The motorway is almost entirely point-to-point, Pyongyang to the DMZ, conveniently skipping villages, towns and farmland that potentially paint slightly conflicting images of Great-self-sustained-Korea.
Rough, pot-holed and unmaintained, true to all roads outside Pyongyang, I found the motorway to be in far better condition than most of North Korea’s infrastructure links. It’s also more ‘sterile’ of propaganda, inspirational banners with quotes from the Kim’s are few and far between in fields or on hillsides unlike the rest of the country. Most notably, however, was how cripplingly lonely the road is.
The long road of loneliness. Otherwise known as the Pyongyang-Kaesong Motorway (Reunification Highway)
North Korean Countryside
It’s about forty-five minutes into the drive before I come across…well, anything at all.
A middle-aged man dressed in a silver suit jacket and pants in the blistering heat, lapel pin of Kim Il-Sung upon his heart. He was bent over heaving a cart up a hill containing a large, live pig. Where he came from? Don’t know. Where was he going? Who knows. The pig appeared proud of itself, though.
Activity increased as we descended further south-west past Sariwon (which we visited in days following). Off-shooting villages visible from the highway finally breathed some life into the barren countryside and were accessible only by walking tracks. People wandered the roadside alone on foot or by bicycle in a daze, sometimes tens of kilometres from the nearest inhabited community. I spotted locals with sacks of corn, bundles of sticks and leaves, sand, livestock and fruit baskets. Supplies are limited in North Korea and act as the primary currency among the countries impoverished. There is a market economy that’s flourished within North Korea over the last twenty years since the famine, but bartering is the norm for those outside major cities. Similarities between less fortunate South-East Asian countries such as Laos could not be dismissed.
I witnessed many exhausted locals pushing broken down motorcycles for miles out here — reliable equipment and fuel are commodities as scarce as hen’s teeth. It dawned on me just as it had done in rural Vietnam, that falling gravely sick in the countryside was essentially a death sentence; hospitals may be hundreds of kilometres away and without vehicles, and with enforced freedom of travel restrictions, people would be lucky to get medical attention. Only those loyal to the regime with clearance can enter Pyongyang. Living in rural North Korea was evidently a harsh lifestyle. Pyongyang tells little of the real story.
Halfway passes and we take a break at what the guides and most foreigners know as the Tea House (Sohung Rest House). For those readers familiar with that Vice documentary on North Korea, it may be recognisable. It’s the location of the ‘Tea Lady’ segment, which I may add was vastly exaggerated on their part as a ghost town. In reality, Sohung Rest House sees regular visitors — it’s the only sanctioned stop between Pyongyang and the DMZ. Nonetheless, it’s a cool feeling to be in such a secluded yet familiar place.
Sohung Resthouse, the only sanctioned stop off between Pyongyang and the DMZ. Vice filmed ‘The Tea Lady’ segment of their documentary in that room to the top left.
After enjoying some tea poured by enthusiastic ladies pleased to handle foreign currency, replenishing my soft drink supplies and dry-reaching from the frankly disgusting toilets that lacked ventilation (I’ll save you the descriptive writing) we were back on our way down the deserted highway.
Farm villages start to rear their head. There’s lot’s of corn crops here, North Korea’s speciality.
A path leading out into remote village communities. All transport is foot or bicycle. There were no cars and motorbikes looked more like antiques and were just as reliable. Questionable dwellings, but this is about as good as it gets outside Pyongyang.
No photos were allowed from this point onwards until the DMZ.
This rule was strictly enforced. We were briefed that today wasn’t one for sneaky snaps out the window. Upon leaving Pyongyang, I saw trains hidden by tall barriers above which the upper half of military tanks were clearly visible. The guides spotted this too and as we passed, all guides turned to watch us like hawks to ensure stealth photos weren’t taken.
It’s no joke. It’s their heads on the chopping block if we don’t abide by the rules. The guides in North Korea are essentially an extension to your own responsibility. They take the fall for minor crimes on your behalf.
Military checkpoints began to appear in rapid succession. Four leading up to the city of Kaesong about 20 minutes apart. This was before we even arrived in the vicinity of the DMZ itself.
Good grief, what is it going to be like once we get there?
Each checkpoint gated off the road splashing Korean signage widely enforcing a stop. They were a simple, yet unsettling process involving the driver passing across papers to an AK47 toting KPA (Korean People’s Army) soldier dressed in military olive green get-up, complete with a peak cap and a whole lot of attitude. Our role was to sit in deathly silence, look ahead on our best behaviour and ensure anything with a lens quickly became invisible. Unless of course, a bus shakedown in North Korea was on your bucket list. I’d rather not. At least not now.
All things considered, these checkpoints are a slight inconvenience at most. Yet, they are an intimidating process but I think that is the point. It’s worth noting that these checkpoints are not for foreigners. As a direct line to Pyongyang, the motorway is well contained and those using it must have purpose and approval.
Overgrown and forgotten. Nearing the end of the Reunification Highway.
Working vehicles outside Pyongyang were rare, but it was commonplace to see people fixing old trucks, cars and 1920’s antique farming equipment by the roadsides all over the country. Every time you passed one, there’s always numerous sets of legs protruding from underneath as all occupants tried to get it back on the road to the next village mechanic. Today we pass such a victim, but one that was familiar to the guides — a Chinese KITC tourist minivan joining us for our timeslot at the DMZ. They waved us down and five minutes later our bus was back on its way joined by eight new occupants.
Not sure about the minivan driver. He stayed behind. Likely discussing terms of his contract on a call to the insurance company, I bet.
Reaching Kaesong
Not long after, we reach Kaesong, a city just a stone throw away from our DMZ destination of Panmunjom. We are told that Kaesong will be where we’ll be staying tonight, sleeping on floor mats in traditional historical Korean dwellings.
Due to its proximity to South Korea, Kaesong provides an interesting role in the economics between the two nations including the morally questionable Kaesong Industrial Region where South Korean companies employ North Korean labour for a pittance on DPRK soil. As we pass through, one guide points out Kaesong Train Station. The tracks lead directly through the DMZ to Dorasan Train Station in South Korea, linking eventually to Seoul. It’s romanticised on the South Korean side as “Not the last train station from the South, but the first station towards the North”, but on the North side, it’s a forgotten and overgrown station since abandoned after political conflicts in 2008.
It’s hard to stomach it’s existence right in front of my eyes, these tracks represent a literal link between long lost relatives segregated across this tiny border just two hours apart. In most areas of the world, you’d hop on the train and be with your family in time for a late breakfast, but between the two Korea’s it’s impossible — one million rifles will do that.
Police officers having a discussion on the barren streets of Kaesong. Colourful traditional housing in Kaesong. Taken from the bus window as we pass through.
The DMZ Landing Area
We are again sternly reminded “no photos, no photos!” as we enter the preliminary area of the DMZ. With a keen eye, the towering flagpoles of both North and South Korea can be seen in the distance less than four kilometres apart, the width of the DMZ splitting each nation.
We embrace yet another (and final, yay!) checkpoint, bringing it to a grand total of seven from Pyongyang to DMZ, not bad.
We soon come to a halt at the suitably communistic-looking gate pictured centre below greeted by a mural of a large pointed finger subset by the slogan “Korea is One!” My Korean is limited so for all I was aware, it could have represented a player being given out at Lords Cricket Ground. Now I can’t unsee it. My first thought after seeing this mural was the irony in that we were standing aside a 4km wide, 250km long minefield purely designed to keep the North and South of Korea away from each other. Call me cynical, but Korea seems everything but ‘one’ to me in this moment.
Oh well, it’s good to see the glasses kept half full.
The entry to the DMZ landing area. There is a meeting room here and even a gift shop with North Korean merchandise. The mural to the left says: “To the next generation: Let them inherit a unified country!”
“Korea is One!” The first mural you see at the DMZ entrance.
Now that we are here, there are three sections of the DMZ which I want to make clear, mainly because they confused me initially. I might not be the only one.
There is the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) itself — this spans the entirety of the border, sea to sea. It exists as a 4km wide buffer between both Koreas.
Centred on this DMZ buffer zone is the Military Demarcation Line (MDL). This is the actual political border. Overstepping this line is not a place to show your passive aggressive push for reunification — you’ll be shot. The MDL line is not accessible at many spots along the DMZ due to the minefield on both sides. A North Korean citizen that would like to defect to South Korea would have to gain access to the MDL. It’s incredibly challenging and dangerous unless you’re in the military and have been posted there and even then, this will only happen if you are from a loyal background and have sufficient family ties — this way you are easily blackmailed into not taking the leap.
Today we are visiting the MDL through a special accessible section of the DMZ known as the Joint Security Area (JSA). It’s located to the west of the (now uninhabited) village of Panmunjom I’m currently standing nearby. What makes the JSA so unusual is that it’s the only area where the North and South come so face-to-face they could legally kiss.
Which they definitely don’t.
I’m progressive, I’m all for it, but that hurdle may not be a priority right now for some reason.
Anyway, in this staging area of our arrival, we have to ditch the bus. It’s searched with a fine tooth comb and cleared for entry, in the meantime, we are taken to get ‘registered’. Conveniently, the room we are to wait inside doubles as a souvenir hustle, ‘Panmun Souvenir Shop’. I kid you not. Soliciting tourists is a universal language, folks. Not usually a sucker for souvenirs, I’m in North-bloody-Korea and I helped myself to some ginseng jelly, some propaganda stamps and a replica Workers Party of Korea cap. Among other things…
Kim Jong-Un may be eating extra lobster tail this week thanks to that 10 euros. I shouldn’t joke, I mean it’s directly funding the regime, you’re right. But with the Kaesong Industrial Region nearby I felt somewhat less guilty.
As I walked out, ‘Crazy O’, one of my guides, the son of a diplomat, guide of Dennis Rodman and Australian larrikin in North Korean skin, spotted the Ginseng and let off a snicker, some not-so-subtle innuendo and an ‘interesting’ mime. Why? Well, apparently Ginseng is used in Korea for impotence.
An empty connecting room displays a map of the DMZ and the Korean Peninsula. It’s overlooked by individual photos of Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il. Note how the frame is thicker at the top so that the leaders are always looking down upon you. These stock portraits are in every household and business.
This, too, is a requirement by law.
Framed photos of the leaders inside the DMZ staging area. Legally required to have a thicker frame at the top to look down upon you.
As we waited for authorisation, it suddenly dawns on me — could I get cell phone signal here? We are right on the border…surely South Korean tower coverage reaches. My iPhone has been on flight mode since boarding the plane in China to Pyongyang because well, as we know, North Korea is a communicative black spot. Sure enough, disabling flight mode showed a two-bar signal to a South Korean cell carrier and I instantly received an automated roaming SMS and one I was sent days earlier.
Awesome.
…And very illegal under North Korean law. After some fleeting feelings of ultimate badass-itry, I set it back to flight mode before I get carted away for ‘spying’ using a ‘GPS Device’ as a ‘puppet’ of South Korea. Or something equally ridiculous along those lines.
Entering the DMZ
Alright, with the bus searched and cleared of nefarious products, we are lined up and marched single file through the gate into the DMZ itself. The bus follows and we re-board with a Korean People’s Army (KPA) colonel and two KPA soldiers to accompany us towards the JSA.
We are getting into the real deal now!
The path we take is set below ground level, built up on both sides by brick, it was one-way and only wide enough for the bus and driving within it made me feel like a rat up a drainpipe. Atop of these girders sit huge bulk blocks of stone and the gaps between are filled in by barbed wire and electric fencing. Behind it on both sides appeared peaceful — lush, long green grass where nature has reclaimed land and is devoid of anything, not even any crops.
That’s because it’s a minefield.
The bus currently sit sandwiched between two desolate fields that form just a small section of the approximate 3 million landmines present across the entire DMZ. Oh and those stone blocks? Those are tank traps, our guides acknowledge them to be rigged with explosives and a necessary evil to prevent military pressure bypassing the fields and streamlining through this paved gateway into North Korea.
Lovely.
Korean People’s Army accompanying us on the short drive into the DMZ towards the JSA between tank traps and an active minefield.
Although North Korea have placed a majority of the mines, they’re also the ones with a track record in circumventing them. The result is a set of four known infiltration tunnels North Korea dug underneath as invasion paths into South Korea, El Chapo over there in Mexico may have gotten some inspiration here from Kim Il-Sung. As you’d expect, after being discovered South Korea locked them down but the third one, in particular, was concerning as it came within just 44 kilometres of their capital Seoul. From the South side on a DMZ tour, you even get the chance to go into one. From the North? Their existence is not acknowledged. Guides have never heard of them.
What’s incredible is that there’s a chance that not all tunnels have been discovered, there could still be hidden passages facilitating people in and out of the country as I type. It’s unlikely, though!
Reaching Panmunjom
The Panmunjom checkpoint within the DMZ heading to the Joint Security Area (JSA). Note the infamous 160m flagpole in the distance.
Halfway into the DMZ, we make a stop. This is the actual location of the late Panmunjom village — there is now nothing left.
A single military outpost has been erected, pruned gardens line the entrance, and two buildings sit within the vicinity. One being the Negotiation Hall where peace talks were held during the war (the original table exists here) — and the other, the (now) North Korean Peace Museum, which is where the Korean Armistice Agreement was finally signed and history was made. We’re told it was built overnight by the great Workers Party of Korea for the sole reason of facilitating the signing.
Something interesting to note in the image above — see the giant North Korean flag towering in the centre? This is sitting in one of only two villages agreed to remain within the DMZ: Kijongdong in North Korea and Daeseong-dong in South Korea. In the 80’s, South Korea built a 100-metre flagpole on their side of the DMZ, North Korea then took it as intimidation and upped the ante by building the one pictured themselves, much larger at 160m and almost the biggest in the world at the time.
A flagpole war. Much more peaceful.
Unfortunately, North Korea also used that village right up until recently to blast propaganda at the South twenty hours a day, droning away to tired officers to jump the border and enjoy heaven and luxury in the North. I’m not joking. Unsurprisingly it had little effect. It’s been proven that the lights in this village are on timers to give the illusion of activity. It’s now dubbed as ‘Propaganda Village’ from the South for obvious reasons.
Below is the aforementioned South Korean flag sitting in the DMZ-bound town of Daeseong-dong across the border:
South Korean Flag in the distance. The MDL is the line of plants near the surveillance camera. Cross this and you’ll get shot and mess up these otherwise serene gardens with your imperialist blood.
We first checked out the negotiation hall. On the outside, a sign denotes when Kim Jong-Il first visited this location. This is more of a prelude to the museum than anything — inside contains just the original table, ten white veiled chairs for negotiators, and another two smaller offset tables for officials and that’s about it, nothing riveting but it’s historically relevant. It was built for this purpose only and it remains.
The irony in North Korea going to these lengths to preserve the history and integrity surrounding the Armistice agreement is something special, I just can’t look past it. It’s been six times now they’ve announced their unwillingness to abide by the agreement, even as recent as 2013. Ah, politics.
It’s quite clear this little checkpoint is used as a propaganda machine, a celebration of the ‘victory’ of the North Korean people over the ‘imperialist’ Americans. This becomes clearer at the museum next.
KPA Colonel and I within the Negotiation Hall. Cute little tie!
North Korea Peace Museum at Panmunjom
The North Korea Peace Museum is one room containing three tables. The guides stress they are all the originals, still exactly as left since 1953 with the addition of the armistice agreements and flags within glass casings, of course. A funny observation I couldn’t help but make is that the ‘original’ encased UN flag looked to have seen better days, a little worse for wear after this long. That’s expected, but meanwhile, the North Korean flag on the other table was an absolute cracker, looking brand spanking new, not even a fade in colour. I didn’t question why because I already knew the answer: It was the superior materials that go into the local North Korean product, clearly.
Just one wall of ‘carefully selected’ historical photos within the North Korea Peace Museum at Panmunjom. The battered UN flag, it’s seen better days.
Walls inside the museum were lined with photography. Most were given context with Korean captions that I, unfortunately, couldn’t read. But it was chronological. A celebration of the war ‘victory’ (remember when I said to forget our version of events?) of the Korean people leading up to the formation of the DMZ and beyond.
The word ‘objective’ isn’t one I’d use to describe the museum, not that I expected otherwise. On the walls Americans are shown with their hands up in surrender, there is ‘evidence’ of American aggression and spy activities, Korean People’s Army soldiers shown training and on the battlefield defiantly, grayscale images of civilian celebration and endearment to the cause, and, of course, pictures of Kim Il-Sung doing what he did best, spreading his political wings by shaking hands, signing documents and leading his party to victory and the armistice finale. Kim Jong-Il also has his own wall dedicated to the visit he made, shown in bright colour photography. This visit by the Supreme Leader is recorded by date and time and hits you in the face as you walk in the door.
Exhibits of physical items (or evidence as the guides will describe them) cluttered the perimeter of the room below the photos and were filled with American and South Korean war materials.
They even showcased the axe used in the infamous ‘axe murdering incident’ in the JSA where two Americans were hacked and slaughtered with it by KPA soldiers for cutting down a tree in line with a military outpost in 1976.
Americans are presented as cowards, South Korean ‘puppets’ are slandered and China isn’t mentioned. North Korea is presented as the victim and victor under the wise guidance of Kim Il-Sung. The North Korean tunnels under the DMZ also evade acknowledgement, yet the elusive unicorn of the ‘Concrete Wall’ allegedly built by the Americans in South Korea is mapped out perfectly.
If that wasn’t one-sided enough, a stone monument just outside the front door of the museum reads the following:
The American imperialists, who broke out (provoked) the war in Chosun (Korea) on the 25th June 1950, surrendered on their knees in front of all the heroic North Koreans and signed here the armistice on the 27th July 1953.
Interesting.
Remnants or ‘evidence’ from the ‘surrender’ of the American Imperialists. There’s even a US dollar bill to the top left.
More American ‘evidence’ from the war.
Entering the Joint Security Area (JSA)
Another 500 metres or so and we were at the JSA. But not before the bus almost broke down as we pig-rooted our way up the incline preceding it. I tell you what, it’s no wonder cars in North Korea barely run, the drivers here have very little respect for manual transmission.
We are dropped off behind the Panmungak Hall.
This is the large white building that faces you if you were visiting the JSA from the South Korean side. Both South Korean and American guides previously enjoyed toying with tourists by telling them this building was a farce, a fake front just like a movie prop. This is because from your vantage point in South Korea you can’t see whether the building has any depth. So, if there was any doubt in your mind I can confirm with authority that it’s indeed a brick and mortar establishment with a heap of rooms.
Upon disembarking, we are instructed to walk single file once again. It’s very organised and official.
First impression: It’s incredibly peaceful and relaxed here at the JSA. Serene really. It’s silent, and their best landscapers have left their mark as it’s now a beautified tourist landing pad. Unless you knew prior, you wouldn’t have an inkling of the surrounding dangers.
A scripted walk followed onwards to an adjacent stone monument.
Based on the guides mannerisms, this was obviously an important monument. In fact, we discover it’s a memorial to the Eternal President himself, Kim Il-Sung. Who’d have thought? Etched into the stone in bright gold is his final autograph scraped from his last endorsed document on the 7th of July, 1994. Apparently, it’s an analysed direct replica. It appears he was quite the neat writer, it’s scaled well to this size. The document? You know the drill. It was a proposed one ‘country-two systems’ reunification proposal. Of course.
He died the following day though unfortunately. Shame.
Other than this, and discounting the stock portraits present inside rooms of the Panmungak Hall (par for the course), shockingly there is no other Kim family photos, inspirational quotes, banners, leaflets, signs or statues at the DMZ. No face-value propaganda at all. Honestly, this was unexpected. I know that if I were Kim Il-Sung, the first thing I’d be doing is erecting the largest bronze statue on earth of myself right where those tourists on the South Korean side gaze over the border. I feel he missed a great opportunity.
Kim Il-Sung’s final signature transcribed into a memorial at the entry to the Joint Security Area (JSA).
Led by the KPA Colonel, we shuffle through the Punmangak Hall and out into the photogenic central area of the JSA.
The border is where the light gravel turns dark, denoted by the concrete line visible in the photo below – cross that line, you’ll be shot.
A Soviet tourist during the Cold War tried it in 1984 ending in four casualties. So it’s not recommended.
You are looking across into South Korea. This is the Joint Security Area (JSA), it straddles the political border (MDL) within the DMZ. The border is where the light gravel turns dark, denoted by a concrete line. The buildings are halfway in each Korea and the large building ahead is the American/South Korean ‘Freedom House’.
North Korean soldiers preparing for our arrival at the Joint Security Area (JSA).
Exemplary North Korean soldiers, complete with hardhats and a great poker face are awaiting us. Two precede us in entering the bright United Nations blue conference room before both taking up positions at the end of the room guarding a single door like statues. Akin to the Queen’s Guard in England, I thought. They are each within arms reach of a pull alarm.
The door they are to guard? This is a door to South Korea, quite literally. Like the door to Narnia, except real.
Just one door knob and a hail of gunfire away from a new life. If they were so inclined.
So close yet so far. A single door away from relative freedom. I noticed even the exemplary KPA officers appeared quite thin in North Korea.
The conference rooms are infamous, they’re synonymous with the DMZ in the pop culture of not only South Korea but on a global scale. They hold novelty value to tourists while providing such an important step to reunification. They straddle the Military Demarcation Line (MDL), half in North Korea, half in South Korea.
This means that the JSA is the only area in North Korea one may peacefully and theoretically “cross” the border into the South — cool right?
Well, sort of. There’s a slight caveat, crossing the MDL can only be done within the constraints of these blue conference rooms. The two sternly looking KPA blokes are technically standing in South Korea in that photo, shielded from the political storm by just four walls and a roof! Freedom is short lived, you can’t even tell whether the air is fresher over that side.
For those that visit the DMZ from the South Korean side, yes these are the same rooms where you can ‘walk into North Korea’. North Korean soldiers will not be in the room, instead, South Korean soldiers will guard the opposite door to North Korea so you aren’t tempted to immigrate illegally into Kim Il-Sung’s haven of freedom. Try to resist the temptation.
These rooms do have a proper purpose, though, they provide a relatively neutral, peaceful platform for face-to-face political negotiations between both Koreas. If they can ever get it organised that is. It rarely happens due to politics and bureaucracy, but prisoner exchanges have also been known to occur here and this is as close to North Korea as the United States diplomats and heads of state are willing to go.
The inside of a Joint Security Area (JSA) conference room. I’m seated at the negotiation table facing the door to South Korea, guarded by two KPA soldiers. The centre of this table, roughly where the microphones are sitting, is the MDL.
Seated as an international delegate, the Colonel gave us a similar introduction as I’ve given you into both the JSA and the conference rooms before linking them back to a politically-laced rundown on what the DMZ represents to North Koreans. This meant another brief on North Korea’s victim-complex starring their imaginary efforts at fostering reunification which is being maliciously denied by the imperialist Americans and ‘puppet’ South Koreans. It’s relentless. His description of events leading up to the DMZ still omitted any allusion to China at all and their role in saving North Korea’s bacon, securing the DMZ and ensuring continued communist rule in the North.
It’s alright, I’m sure he just forgot. We all make mistakes sometimes.
The South Korean side of the JSA was empty. No South Korean or American military nor any tour groups were visible. In fact, I saw no movement at all on that side of the border.
This was a shame, it would have been nice to see the face-off, if not just for photos. I mean…there’s just a couple metres between opposing soldiers all day, I wonder what the interactions are like. Do they want to strangle each other? Do they talk to each other? Are they friends? A game of football with a very strict offside? I doubt it, but today I’d get no confirmation.
What I do know however is that the imperialist Americans and puppet South Koreans weren’t, in fact, off enjoying their free-market screening of the new Transformers movie this weekend. South Korea actually ‘closes’ the DMZ on Sunday and Monday for tours. These are also coincidently the only days a visit from the North is possible. It seems to be a recent policy. Is it an odd timeshare arrangement or a way to prevent opposing tour group confrontation? Waving and pointing does sound pretty dangerous after all.
After being flushed from the room by an intimidating dual-formation of KPA (to the mumble of Korean, which I’m sure was lovely), we now had the opportunity to go camera crazy from the Punmangak Hall.
Soldiers in formation marching towards the border with South Korea just metres ahead.
We could also interact with North Korean soldiers who were more than willing to oblige, even sporting smiles on their faces.
Smiling. In North Korea. Is that even a thing?
It’s a bit odd. The entire JSA experience from the North is much more relaxed than I envisioned. Call me ignorant, but I honestly expected serious faces and five quick controlled minutes watched by on-edge Koreans yelling and shaking their arms each time I made a reach for my camera.
Does it look like that to you?
Two KPA officers and I. They were more than happy to take a snap and crack a smile.
It was quite the contradiction to visiting from the South. Most ironic considering North Korea is the scary, mysterious and volatile boogeyman played up for the tourists on the South Korean side of the DMZ.
To give you an idea, here’s what it’s like to visit the DMZ from South Korea:
Dress code applies! Don’t point here, don’t wave there. No laughing. Serious faces only. Don’t provoke the North Koreans! They will shoot you at any moment. Please sign this waiver as you’re heading into a volatile area. We can only stay for five minutes as it’s too dangerous otherwise, you may start a nuclear war. You better have your cameras ready, but for the love of God please don’t take photos of that. Taking photographs there breaches national security you know?
Hmm…
Meanwhile…on a trip from the North Korean side:
No dress code, relative freedom to take whatever photos you like, go selfie crazy even, hell, take some photos with the military. Disperse from your group, your guides, and have a wander around. Wave, point, make hand signals, the lot. Laugh, even. Anything goes as long as you don’t cross that damn line.
It’s great stuff. Fear-mongering stereotype reinforcement from the South, while on the North side they’re adamant in trolling you into a false sense of freedom and security. North Korea want to appear level-headed, to make you feel comfortable, to present their side of the story and specifically perpetuate the idea that they’re being persecuted more than the Jews have ever been, that their free passage into the South is being restricted by South Korea and the Americans despite their ‘best efforts’ at reunification. The DMZ to any of those visitors from the North is this evidence.
And, frankly, they do a good job. Indeed it’s peaceful, reasonable and easy-going on the North side of the DMZ. As a result, it makes a mockery of the precautions taken by the South; in this moment North Korea certainly doesn’t appear to be the monster we’re led to believe and I couldn’t help but feel this to be a calculated move, part of the Pyongyang propaganda machine that would be no coincidence.
Of course.
If there’s one thing this country has mastered, it’s how to fool your perception.
The JSA in the DMZ is truly an eerily peaceful smokescreen to the ongoing hostility. I entered expecting two bitter military forces antagonising each other to find that instead, they’re provoking one another not with nuclear warfare, but by using their finely-tuned gardening skills on well-kept lawns and plants. It’s like a little competition on who can manicure the biggest hedge. I’d sooner pull out a picnic blanket with a basket of cheese and biscuits here than reach for a machine gun in this ‘active war zone’. Which is what it technically is.
To quell some JSA misconceptions before we finish this tour: There are no guard towers. There is no barbed wire or electric fencing. There are no active servicemen brandishing AK47’s and there are no visible Soviet tanks, military choppers or anti-air installations, nor sharks with frickin laser beams on their heads. There are, however, surveillance cameras. Lots of them. They face us from the ‘Freedom House’ in the South. Nothing speaks freedom more than a building with spy cameras. Thanks, America!
Seriously, the JSA is labelled the ‘Truce Village’ for a reason and it, surprisingly, lived up to it.
The actual militarisation noted above (with maybe the omission of the sharks, but we can’t be sure with North Korea) are set back in the DMZ hidden from view spread 250km across the peninsula. I saw some of it through binoculars during my visit to the ‘Concrete Wall’ further along the DMZ, where North Korea attempt to recreate the Loch Ness Monster. I did a write-up on this weird visit, so if you enjoyed this article, enjoy North Korean misdirection or are reading this because your teacher has you doing a school assignment on the split of Korea, click through here. It’s not as long, I promise.
So that’s the JSA and the DMZ, folks!
And well, that wraps up my time and your tour here of the Demilitarized Zone from the North Korean side. What a fantastic morning it was. We got the tap on the shoulder, and it was time to say goodbye, waving to soldiers smiling as if departing a family Thanksgiving lunch. Thanks for coming. Thanks for having us.
Speaking of which, it’s only 12:30 pm, lunch was next in Kaesong and in true North Korean style we had a whole day ahead of us to fill. On a tour in North Korea they run you knackered so you’ll be too tired to even consider defecting from your hotel!
But, by any measure, I was hungry…
Todays lunch in Kaesong turned out to be Dog Meat Soup. A fellow tourist even found a tooth inside his serving.
Unfortunately, not dog-meat-soup-hungry.
Sigh, North Korea.
I passed!
P.S – Thanks for reading! It’s long, I know. If you enjoyed it, make sure to share with the buttons below! I’ll be releasing more North Korea content soon. Follow on Facebook or Twitter to stay up to date!
P.P.S – Have any of you travelled to the DMZ yourselves, from either the North or South? How did your experience differ? I’d love to hear about it in the comments. Cheers guys, Elliott.
Want to visit North Korea for yourself? I can help. I’m the tour director at Uri Tours, a North Korea tour operator. For inquiries you can contact me directly at elliott@uritours.com.
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There's no better way to discover authentic Vietnamese culture than from a motorbike. From rice fields to beaches, traditional villages to the highlands and the modern city - this route is Vietnam's Greatest Motorbike Day Trip! Check it out!
In a Nutshell: In my opinion, the greatest motorcycle day trip in not just Vietnam, but South-East Asia. You’ll depart Hue city, head south through Lang Co, Hai Van Pass and Da Nang before reaching Hoi-An on a varied cultural extravaganza of authentic Vietnam you’ll never forget!
If you are visiting Vietnam, you can’t miss this motorbike day trip. It’s that simple. It certainly has my seal of approval as the best, most varied motorcycle trip of this length in Vietnam and frankly, I’d claim it’s the greatest motorcycle trip in South-East Asia. That’s a big claim.
The reason is this: Nowhere else in Vietnam will offer you such a well-rounded window into the diverse local lifestyles, scenic variety and juxtaposition between modern and traditional Vietnam in a distance this short. It’s perfect for those on a tight schedule, but most importantly it gets you out of the cities and into real local life, which, after being enticed by photos, postcards and travel guides was the reason you got on that plane heading to glorious Vietnam. It’s straight into the deep end, but if you’re interested in a new experience, a porthole into true Vietnam relatively safely and comfortablythen you can’t go past what I’m about to entice you with.
Get out of the cities! There’s heaps more to see than merely 21st-century commercial Vietnam.
So basically the point of this is that you’re travelling by motorbike. The feeling of ultimate freedom. Riding a motorbike in Vietnam is par for the course, a bucket list item and an experience you’ll never forget, over 95% of the traffic in Vietnam is two wheels and the country is designed for it. You’ll be joining the locals directly, exposing yourself to Vietnam’s dry heat acclimatised only by the wind in your hair. Seeing Lang Co this way beats driving past it in a stuffy van awaiting your next toilet stop at a conveniently placed souvenir shop, you’ll have to trust me on that.
Alternatively, you could instead cram as cattle into a bus of questionable structural integrity with no air conditioning, pointed inland, rattling straight down the dusty, dangerous, uninspiring AH1 highway. You’ll quickly realise this is just a boring highway, then, you will try to sleep it off, but the incessant high-pitched sound of bus and motorbike horns, plus the way your lungs have clogged with second-hand smoke from the Vietnamese driver finishing his fourth packet of cigarettes that morning while refusing to wind the window down will prevent you from a single wink of shut-eye. This eventually leads you to Hoi-An frustrated and heading straight to the bar, and, sadly, none-the-wiser to what you have missed out on. May I add, this is is disturbingly common.
I’m going to be arrogant here and you’ll thank me: If you go down AH1 you are just transiting. You are leaving heaps behind and you are completely missing out. So if you have the time, don’t go down AH1 and follow this route. There! Keep reading.
What do you see?
The route begins in Hue city on the central coast of Vietnam, and your destination is Hoi-An, about 140km to the south. You’ll head off the beaten track, down the coastal roads intersecting the tourist hubs of Lang Co and Da Nang, both conveniently linked by the stunning Hai Van Pass popularised in that Vietnam Top Gear Episode you remember.
But…it’s between these two anchor points that’s the true icing on the cake.
The fishing villages, the lush green rice fields, the water buffalo, the cone hats, the religious influence, lush flooded green rice fields, mountainous views, secluded sandy beaches, Pho as it’s meant to be made…and small town life as it’s always been. It’s all there, it’s all real and you can delve into it. All in one day.
Hue farmland just outside the city. The countryside is relaxing and you’ll almost have the road to yourself!
Not even one day, actually, you can do it in as little as 6 hours, at a relaxing pace too.
But hell, why limit yourself to 6 hours? Make a two-day trip out of it, don’t rush at all and stay a night in Lang Co to break it up. Take the detours, embrace every photo opportunity, enjoy swimming an undiscovered beach while watching fisherman catch fresh seafood. Then eating it. Explore the village mazes to the novelty of the locals. Buy their genuine local products, get to know them as you eat more of their mouth-watering cuisine and don’t forget to drink their rice wine (responsibly!).
It’s very rare you’ll pay local prices in Vietnam. But, with any luck, you will at village stops such as these, tourism is an untamed beast and you’ll feel quite out of place. Which is fantastic. It’ll be like Brad Pitt’s come to town. You’ve never quite waved at so many people.
How do you do it?
You have two options: You can either rent a motorbike to tackle it yourself (recommended!) or if that isn’t suitable, you can hire a driver. They are both great ways with their own pros and cons. If you hire a driver, he will supply the bike but the cost is considerably higher as you’d expect. Experiencing it is far better than missing out, though, remember that, so there is no shame in conceding to not riding a motorbike if you aren’t comfortable. There are many reputable operators offering drivers on customised trips out of Hue; I recommend Vietnam Motor Trail — ask for Quy, tell him I sent you, then when you visit, buy him coffee, lots of coffee as he tells you everything about Vietnam in his great English. Can’t recommend him enough.
For those undergoing it themselves: Petrol is easily obtained in villages from locals, they will sell it to you in plastic bottles in the more awkward remote spots and there are stations in all the main village/town connections. The road conditions on this route are surprisingly fantastic. For the most part, it’s paved with some unsealed sections, but the potholes are easy to navigate without it being too rough on the bike.
For this reason, you can even get away with making this trip on an automatic scooter. Rent one in Hue for just $10 a day including a full tank of fuel, you can then drop it off in Hoi-An for a small one-way fee. Just please, not a Vespa. It’ll be rough going. Get yourself something like a Honda Airblade (very popular) and you’re golden. I did it myself and didn’t have a problem. Some rental places don’t like you taking their city-slicker scooters out of the cities though, so make sure you are clear with your intentions when renting.
I drove a Honda Airblade I rented in Hue. The roads are mostly paved, so even scooters such as this are fine for the journey!
Unprecedented variety. Alright, so those large tourist hubs I mentioned, what do they offer? A lot. I’ll give you a run down.
You’ll begin in Hue City:The Hue Citadel Flag Tower. It’s located at the front of the complex and it’s the tallest in Vietnam.
Hue is my favourite city in Vietnam. Much of its population lives within the historic walled bounds of the Hue Citadel. This fortress is even surrounded by a moat sourced from the Perfume River snaking through the city, there are ten gates that allow entry. Hue is a comparatively small, quiet coastal city that was once the capital. Due to its central positioning, it was unfortunately hit hard during the Vietnam War.
Lifestyles are conservative, right down to the bars and restaurants, which I find a welcome change in South-East Asia. It’s a relaxing, friendly atmosphere. The Royal Tombs of past Kings sit atop the marsh riverbanks, pagoda’s tower overhead, it’s just 8km out from the beach (unforgettable fresh seafood) and the jungle of detours take you onto scenic journeys into local life and the inland highlands are ingrained into a tour of Vietnam’s war history.
How’s that for variety. Hue is an awesome launch pad.
The street food can’t be missed either. You’ll become addicted to Bun Bo Hue (beef noodle soup – Hue style) and I ate more Banh Cuon Thit Heo (Rice paper rolled pork with peanut sauce) than I’m willing to admit. I’m not a foodie, but the cuisines impressed me here. Adventurous? Ech Xao Xa Ot. Fried Frog with Lemongrass. Tastes like chicken, kinda.
Also, I have to add this: Most tourists only spend a night in Hue. Almost all itineraries follow that recipe, but you’ll have to trust me again here, they don’t know what they are missing. For those that are willing to take some responsibility for their own travel (that’s you), Hue is a gold mine for exploration.
Local farmers pictured working in rice fields just outside Hue. These postcard Vietnamese scenes are familiar all the way down the coast. Middle-left of the frame you can spot five water buffalo enjoying their flooded surrounds. This went on for kilometres. What a day! Heading up the mountain range before the descent into the fishing town of Lang Co.
You’ll pass coastal villages and scenic mountain ranges into Lang Co:Panorama of Lang Co, about as picturesque as it gets!
A small picturesque fishing town, Lang Co is a weirdly shaped piece of land shielded by a lagoon on one side and over 10km of white sandy beach on the other. It’s flanked by stunning mountainous Vietnam, contrasted with modern day engineering feats and traditional fishing methods. From my experience, it’s a must stop for seafood so fresh you’ve seen them catch your meal just ten metres away from the comfort of the restaurant, many of which are located physically out in the lagoon and reachable only by their own jetties.
Seafood restaurant located out in Lang Co bay accessible by the jetty. You can watch fisherman catch your meal after you’ve ordered.
Lang Co is still quite underdeveloped, popular with local tourists more so than foreigners. However, it’s ideal for either lunch or dinner stop-off, a swim to beat the Vietnamese heat or a stay overnight if you’re travelling north to Hue. If you’re heading south, remember it’s only another hour onto Da Nang for more abundant accommodation and city life. They’re close but they’re like chalk and cheese.
Locals setting up stalls outside their homes. Just another day at work in this remote township.Continuing, you’ll traverse the spectacular Hai Van Pass!Hai Van Pass offers 21km of views just like this one as you traverse the hillside into Da Nang.
The jewel of the region, one of the greatest ocean drives in the world. It’s a big claim and in this instance, I don’t need to borrow any more of your trust, as Jeremy Clarkson from Top Gear was quoted as saying those exact words. Hai Van Pass or in English “Ocean Cloud Pass” is a stunningly scenic route, etching hairpin turns and long straights high into the mountain range. To say the least, it lends itself to being best enjoyed by motorbike and this alone makes it worthwhile. Late afternoon, an eerie mist joins you, adding to the aura. It’s a fun road to navigate, I’m guilty of taking joy rides across it every chance I get. Luckily for you, the pass links both Lang Co and Da Nang, you don’t even need to go out of your way. There is very little traffic, there’s usually just a handful of motorbikes because the trucks, buses and other heavy vehicles are required at Lang Co to continue down AH1 through the tunnel instead. How unfortunate.
Hai Van Pass is quiet and relaxing, so embrace it at your own pace. Enjoy the postcard vistas and breathe the crisp ocean air for 21 kilometres of some of the best time you’ll ever spend on a vehicle. Try your best to avoid the herds of goats being transited by farmers on foot.
Stunning views down to a secluded beach from Hai Van Pass. Beautiful.
Descending the other side will lead into the modern city of Da Nang:Colourful cityscape of Da Nang. The Sun Wheel can be seen to the right. Commercial high-rises are also on that side of the Han River.
Da Nang is different. I love it. It’s the largest city in central Vietnam and provides a modern, commercial hub otherwise lacking to the region.
Best of all, though, Da Nang avoids the tiresome commotion of Ho Chi Minh City yet still offers a charm unlike Hanoi in the form of a coastal beach paradise. You can relax here and just five minutes inland sits a stylish, clean and organised cityscape. The nightlife is bright and active. The cuisine is spectacular. Palm trees line the far stretched white sands backed by tall, block hotels reminiscent of an early Australian Gold Coast. The 72-metre ‘Lady Buddha’ stands dominant to the peninsula, she’s visible as you take a dip in refreshing blue waters. Just ten minutes south sit religious cave systems of limestone, the Marble Mountains, to an otherwise flat landscape. Da Nang’s eastern backdrop of Ba Na Hills is a perfect day trip too, if not just for the 6km world record cable car.
The suitably named Dragon Bridge spanning the Han River. It actually ‘breathes’ fire each Saturday and Sunday nights.
This is a portion of the Da Nang beach, popular with holidaymakers for kilometres on end. It’s lined with both palm trees, tall apartments and luxurious beach resorts.
Does Da Nang sound like nowhere else in Vietnam? Certainly. A no-brainer to check out and visit? You’d be surprised — Da Nang is often overlooked or completely missed by tourists, in part because it’s outshined due to its proximity to the tourist haven of Hoi-An.
But you now know better. Integrate Da Nang into your itinerary, please.
The final stretch passing beach front resorts into Hoi-An!Ditching the motorbike for a different set of two wheels to enjoy the Hoi-An river front, lined on both sides by endless culinary options and the cheapest beers in Vietnam.
Hoi-An. The Vietnam tourist favourite that needs no introduction, but I’ll give you one anyway. It’s a mecca really, for good reason, I haven’t yet met anybody that disliked Hoi An. The ancient town and the focus of the tourist masses is a world heritage UNESCO site and seen as one of the best examples of 15-19th century Chinese and Japanese trading influences in Vietnam. If this means nothing to you, don’t fret, it just means there are old buildings set amidst lively, colourful, and mazey walking streets of food, shopping and culture that give Hoi-An a unique feel I haven’t otherwise experienced in South-East Asia. You’ll take a lot of photos here. You’ll also eat a lot of food.
The famous Hoi-An lanterns brightening the main footbridge at night. Great atmosphere!
The riverfront is lined with a myriad of culinary options, so your daily struggle in Hoi-An will be making a decision. It’s tough. If you like fresh beer, it’s 3000 VND a glass ($0.14 USD), which is the cheapest I’ve seen in the country. One of the best parts about Hoi-An is that transportation is primarily push bike, a relaxing back pedal (pun absolutely intended) from the noise pollution you’ll be exposed to elsewhere. It’ll allow a peaceful discovery of the markets, locally made handicrafts and tailor-made silk clothing Hoi-An is so well known for. If you’ve been hustled for ‘tailored’ suits in Thailand, don’t let that shy you away from getting one done in Hoi An, most of them are quality, it’s an institution here. I still wear the leather shoes I had custom-made overnight here 4 years on. If the owners of these stores don’t find you first (they will), then just ask around.
Accommodation options in Hoi-An are generally cheap and comfortable ‘home stay’ accommodations. While you’re here, don’t forget the opportunity to take cooking and handicraft lessons with the locals. Although touristy, these lessons are incredibly popular and it’s for no other reason than they do an excellent job.
A picturesque scene of the Thu Bon River, just 10 minutes motorbike outside of Hoi-An’s Ancient Town. Just because you’ve reached the end in Hoi-An, don’t dismiss your motorbike, there’s lots to see.
Alright, something to consider. I’m going to play the role of your mother.
Riding a motorbike in South-East Asia is dangerous. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. Heed this advice: If you’ve never ridden a motorbike or scooter before, Vietnam is not the place to learn.
Country-wide, there are an estimated 40 road deaths a day. The majority occur on the highways, where high speed, neglected vehicle maintenance, poor road conditions and careless driving take their toll. I’ve witnessed countless accidents, some quite horrific, foreigners regularly wear their story physically. It’s not a joke, guys, neither you nor I are invincible.
If anything terrible was to happen on this route, you could be about two hours away from the nearest hospital in Hue or Da Nang. Ambulance response times are not like London. Keep this in mind when those locals offer you that potent jungle juice halfway between Hue and Lang Co.
Anyway, enough disclaimer.
When you visit Vietnam, you’ll quickly realise traffic in Hanoi and Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) is insane. You’re easily bottlenecked into it whenever you are on the road. Luckily, this route from Hue avoids having others breathing down your neck, you also avoid the dangerous highways and instead hug the quiet, safe coastal roads dissecting villages and farmland which are populated only by those that live there. They’re more of single-lane paved paths than sealed roads — very little traffic, glorious riding.
You aren’t entirely safe, though. There’s water buffalo to dodge, cows to weave between and from Vietnamese testimony, rogue pigs tend to enjoy lunging into traffic. Apparently they are “as solid as a rock and become more aggressive when hit.” That’s a direct quote. I don’t recommend investigating.
So, what do you think?
Chances are, if you’re visiting Vietnam you’ll cross through Hue city. After enjoying the itinerary favourites in Hue including the Imperial City, Thien Mu Pagoda and all of the Royal Tombs, you’ll likely be bored of these barely relatable historic sites, lack time to explore the back alleys for yourself and have no chance to see the war history or eat the delicious food, instead being enticed into ‘cheapest deal for you, you pay cash now we give you good deal’ tourist bus by a street hustler with a pop-up van business (he borrowed it from his cousin) and cruise off to Hoi-An with every backpacker around you. It’s the ‘done’ thing.
But, don’t do that.
If you’re open to some self-directed adventure, game enough to embrace the Vietnamese roads and have an insatiable appetite for seeing Vietnamese culture as it was, is, and likely will be into the future, you’ll be suitably rewarded with this short motorcycle trip encapsulating authentic Vietnamese lifestyle, stunning countryside scenery and everything in between. This is usually unheard of in just one to two days. But, now you know, and whether you’re in Vietnam for one week, two weeks or three months, this motorbike journey is for you and one of the best in South-East Asia.
Oh and I know, yes, it’s extra effort. It’ll require a bit of organisation and maybe a step outside your comfort zone, but I promise you’ll get out what you put into it.
This is what travel is about.
Put it on your list!
P.SIf you have done this trip, or one similar within South-East Asia I’d love to hear your thoughts. So share it with me in the comments below!
Souvenirs targeted towards foreign visitors were available to purchase in North Korea, the world's most isolated country. Who would have guessed? Here's what I acquired during my visit!
In a Nutshell: It may surprise you, but as a tourist to North Korea you’ll have ample opportunity to purchase traditional souvenirs. You’ll find souvenir shops inside major hotels or nearby major tourist attractions such as Kim Il-Sung Square and even the DMZ. They sell anything from books, posters, postcards, stamps and artwork, to CD/DVD’s, food items including liquor and even apparel. I’m generally not a fan of souvenirs (I travel light!) but in North Korea I make an exception. It’s the genuine product made locally and the items are unique, wacky and often confronting. Here are the souvenirs I acquired during one particular visit!
Left: “If the US imperialists aim their gun at us, we will do the same, but with our cannon!”
Right: “We will fight the tough by being even tougher!”
North Korean postcards are not subtle. They’re often bright, militaristic, confronting and presented to be motivational. By sending one, you may make a postman’s day or perhaps add yourself to a government watch list. I have about thirty of these postcards, each has different socialist-realist artwork and unique slogans that reference parts of North Korea’s revolutionary history and their goal of a prosperous future. The anti-American and anti-Japanese sentiment remains strong, but in general these postcards reference proud aspects of contemporary North Korean culture such as scientific advancement, the Songun Policy, Juche Idea or Chollima Movement, the role of North Korean children as future intellectuals, the celebration of sporting achievements or performing arts, the opening of Masikryong Ski Resort and even tributes to bean farming policy. A mosaic of these postcards would give a clear indication of what the North Koreans hold dear (officially).
Top Left: “Give us any command!”
Bottom Left: “With the united strength of the whole nation, let’s destroy (detonate) the nuclear war manoeuvre provocation of the US!”
Right: “Raising the sound of the marching group’s trumpet, let’s march forward towards a powerful nation!”
Kaesong Koryo Insam Liquor
This fine beverage is a ‘Special Class Commodity’ and due to its high price tag, is only available to the wealthy, generally those that are part of the emerging middle-class or elite in Pyongyang. If the box is to be believed, it’s earned both ‘Gold Medals’ and ‘Diplomas’ to international acclaim.
It’s a 700ml, 86 proof bottle of 20-year-old rice alcohol distilled and bottled in Kaesong, North Korea. It contains Kaesong’s speciality ‘insam’ (ginseng), an extensive root plant that’s been grown for six years, the perfect timing to highly concentrated nutrients. The ginseng is said to wield a myriad of medicinal benefits such as beating physical or mental fatigue to treating diabetes. Ginseng is found globally but the Korean ginseng has a solid reputation, North Korea even started producing a ‘wonder drug’ named Kumdang-2 which contains ginseng and traces of rare earth metals such as gold and platinum. It allegedly cures Ebola, AIDS, MERS, tuberculosis and cancer.
I purchased this liquor from the Kwangbok Supermarket in Pyongyang. At the time, this store had only just opened and I was just the second foreigner ever allowed inside. A plaque on the entrance commemorated the dates that both General Kim Jong-Il and Marshal Kim Jong-Un had given ‘field-guidance’ to the store. Photography was banned (and it remains that way) and I was permitted only to visit the first floor (this restriction has since been lifted). It’s illegal for tourists to handle local currency, so at the time I had to line up to receive a receipt, then head over to the currency exchange booth offering unofficial, black market North Korean Won rates. It was here you make payment, receive a best-attempt at change in three different foreign currencies, and then take your receipt back to collect your goods. Fast-forward two years and Kwangbok Supermarket now serves as the only place in Pyongyang that tourists are permitted to exchange and use local currency freely despite it remaining illegal. North Korean contradictions are sometimes puzzling.
As I tried to leave North Korea this visit, a General from the Korean People’s Army found the ginseng liquor while searching my luggage in Sinuiju. Smiles aren’t derived effortlessly in North Korea, but after he saw this golden water I received a sparkling ear-to-ear of absolute approval. This smile then evaporated when I refused to let it go as a bribe. I enjoyed a 2.5-hour shakedown that day. I later gave the liquor to my dad and we still haven’t drunk it, I think he likes having the only one in Tasmania.
North Korean Stamps
Top Left: Mechanisation. Automation. Remote control. (Juche, self-reliance ideology and technological advancement)
Top Middle: 10 Century to 14 century (historical dynasty of North Korea)
Top Right: UNDP (United Nations Development Programme) technical cooperation for 40 years, 1990.
Bottom Left: Mansudae Grand Monument, the anti-Japanese revolutionary struggle for 10 years, 1974.
Bottom Right: Workers Party of Korea Sixth Congress decision, let’s unite for piercing penetration! The Federal Democratic Republic IO administrative policy. Frequency, equal peace, national unity (reunification).
For an isolated nation with a well-documented stranglehold over freedom of communication, North Korea produce a lot of stamps. They are used in the domestic post but are primarily made for foreign consumption, particularly in China which is the largest stamp collecting market in the world. Collections are extensive and whilst military achievement, political ideology and sporting milestones play a strong role in the stamp’s designs, many of them are cultural throwbacks to ancient Korean history or even generic themed collections of dog types, natural wonders or plants. You can find extensive (and well-presented) collections for sale in the Koryo Stamp Museum in Pyongyang or the Koryo Stamp Shop in Kaesong and they are not cheap, starting at about 25 euro.
Pictured are some loose sample stamps.
Democratic Peoples Republic of Korea flag
This cheaply made Democratic People’s Republic of North Korea flag got me into a bit of strife during my visit.
It was September 9, National Day, an important calendar event celebrating the founding of the DPRK. I had purchased this flag from the Yanggakdo Hotel in Pyongyang with the intention of joining the festivities with light-hearted pseudo-nationalism, which went down fantastic and derived many smiles that day. However, as the day came to an end and after tucking into my dinner, I was interrupted and taken aside by one of my guides to be briefed on the situation.
Upon arrival back to the hotel, I had left all but my necessities on the bus. It was common for us to leave waters, sweets or non-valuables at our seats (we used the same bus each day), but tonight I had also left the North Korean flag sitting in the back pocket of the seat in front. My guide asked me if I had done this, to which I responded that I had. I was then advised that the bus driver had discovered the flag and had perceived this action as a clear attempt at disposing of said flag, an anti-State hostile act on a day of such national importance. He had reported this offence to the guides. Quite alarmed at this point and with vision as to where this was heading, I gave my utmost apology to my guide, which it was filtered back to the driver. Some tense minutes followed before my apology was accepted, and I was told to collect my flag and put it into safe keeping.
To leave North Korea with this flag was always my intention, but in that moment it did not matter. The situation could have escalated and it was as simple and as innocent as that. As a traveller, it is important to be well aware of, and show respect and sensitivity to, the cultural norms of any nation, but nowhere is this more important than in North Korea. The stakes are higher and this transgression was a stern reminder.
From that point on, my flag was carefully folded and kept in my luggage like a pet rock that I checked up on regularly. Here it is for your viewing today. An interesting memento.
At the time, this t-shirt was the only government-approved apparel for sale to tourists in the entire country of North Korea. I only saw it for sale once in Pyongyang. The design is about as sterile, unimaginative and tacky as souvenir t-shirts get, the kind that first-time tourists to San Francisco hold no shame wearing. In saying that, most of us on this tour (including me!) purchased one despite a meagre choice of just three colours. We did yearn for some variety, and even with money to spend, it was a quick crash-course in socialism: Despite our demanding fists full of cash, supply was bottlenecked by the state apparatus. Market freedom is limited, locals simply cannot produce their own designs and sell them legally. On the back below the neck is a small land mass map of North Korea, with the text ‘Pyongyang DPRKorea’. This t-shirt got me a lot of attention in China on the day I left North Korea (because of course, I was wearing it!).
Postcard home to Australia from Pyongyang
Firstly, I apologize for my handwriting. It is shameful. Anyhow, this postcard I sent from Pyongyang to my parents on 13/09/2014 took many months but eventually did turn up. All postcards sent from North Korea are translated and screened by officials, so my words were chosen wisely. Anything untoward or critical ensures it’ll never see beyond the border and may land you in hot water. I did my best to sugar coat the experience for this reason, but frankly, it’s mostly genuine. My tongue-in-cheek ode to the Supreme Commander Kim Jong-Un at the end was walking a fine line, but I simply couldn’t help myself.
DVD: A Traffic Controller on Crossroads
I purchased this DVD from the Grand People’s Study House in Pyongyang. It’s directed, produced and distributed in North Korea and stars the iconic Pyongyang traffic ladies that I am convinced are subject to a nationalistic fetish in North Korea. You will notice the distributor is ‘Mokran Video’, the ‘mokran’ (mongolia) is North Korea’s national flower and you’ll find this logo on every DVD legally sold in Pyongyang, even on the disk of familiar western titles such as Tarzan, the Lion King and Aladdin that can be found readily available in street stalls; they have been pirated and are sold at a state level.
Pyongyang’s traffic ladies are synonymous with Pyongyang city life and it’s a well-regarded position rumoured to be fulfilled by only those women handpicked by Marshal Kim Jong-Un himself. Whether rain, hail or shine these beautiful women are dressed immaculately and operate near robotically with movements of militaristic intention. Nobody dare crosses the intimidating law enforcement of the traffic lady on the streets of Pyongyang and due to a lack of ‘orange light’, you’ll often witness cars come to a screeching halt at the change of their signal. The women will also salute passing vehicles driven by Worker’s Party of Korea officials who typically have number plates beginning with 7-27. This number represents July 27, Victory Day on the North Korean calendar when the armistice was signed marking the end of fighting in the Korean War.
North Korea Flag Pin and Stamp
All North Korean citizens must wear, by law, a lapel pin of the late leaders above their heart. Ordinary citizens usually wear that of either President Kim Il-Sung or General Kim Jong-Il themselves, while those of higher social status are permitted to wear a more expensive, double portrait version.
As a foreigner, you aren’t allowed to purchase the authentic pins, they must be presented to you (which has occurred for some foreigners working in the country). Tourists are instead urged to buy the (less interesting) souvenir North Korean flag version pictured here. So I did. The stamp was actually given to me as part of my change when a venue ran out of foreign currency, as you aren’t aren’t allowed to handle or use the local North Korean Won.
North Korean Cigarettes
“Cigarettes are harmful for your health.” Surprising, right? The juxtaposition between health warnings adopted by most of the modern world and the otherwise concerning lifestyle conditions forced upon citizens of North Korea may leave you scratching your head. Me too. Has North Korea truly adopted such a reasonable stance on a known health hazard? Probably. Alternatively, it’s been hypothesised as a way to reduce the value of cigarettes as a currency between North Korean people, primarily bribery. Plausible. Commodity scarcity is rife, making cigarettes a highly valuable currency on the North Korean markets.
These cigarettes in particular, ‘Lake Samilpo’, are named after a south-eastern lake of the same name I visited in North Korea. A non-smoker myself, and one that’s likely spent too long in Asia, I purchased them as an icebreaker and currency. Unbeknownst to me, they’re a highly regarded brand associated with male status in North Korea, so I ended up handing out packets like the Santa Claus of cigarettes. This couple I kept as product mementoes, though!
I purchased this book at the Foreign Language Bookstore in Pyongyang. A small trusted group of foreigners are employed to translate Korean publications into other languages to distribute the re-education beyond North Korean borders and into international acclaim.
This particular book was widely distributed, I saw it at most souvenir desks during my visit to North Korea. I’d say this is because the transition between Kim Jong-Il and Kim Jong-Un’s new leadership is still a sensitive political topic and they’re trying to get some circulation. Confidence from the people in Kim Jong-Un as the new commander is paramount to North Korea continuing forward unchanged.
The entire book is a celebration into Kim Jong-Un, in particular, his ‘accomplishments’ and the unconditional, endearing love he has (already) ‘earned’ from his people. Relatively unknown prior to his leadership, Kim Jong-Un is now undergoing a phase where a narrative is being constructed and attributed to his life for propaganda purposes, much the same as his father and grandfather. I mean, he is the Supreme Commander of the Korean People’s Army, the fourth largest army in the world and has had no formal military experience. He needs the storytelling behind him.
Air Koryo Items
Air Koryo is North Korea’s only airline, it’s state-owned, the flag carrier and the first point of contact for you as a foreigner into the hermit kingdom. The Pyongyang Times is complimentary upon boarding, and the stewardesses don their leaders pins above their hearts. It’s the only one-star rated airline on earth, and until 2010 was banned from entering the European Union due to safety and maintenance concerns. Was it that bad to fly on? I didn’t think so, but the food quality is in a league of its own, even by airline standards. Their idea of a vegetarian burger was two pieces of bread with lettuce. I’m not exaggerating. I mean, I guess technically correct is the best kind of correct after all.
Either way, I wanted to take a memento from the flight with Air Koryo as Air China printed my boarding pass in Beijing and it didn’t tick the souvenir checkbox…so the next best thing? An Air Koryo branded air sickness bag and hand-towel. I hold no shame!
Masik Pass Slippers
Ordered by Kim Jong-Un himself, Masik Pass Ski Resort was built by the Korean People’s Army in just ten months to boost tourism numbers. After my visit, I can confidently claim that Masik Pass is far and away the most luxurious building available to the ‘public’ in North Korea. Easily.
So, I took their slippers. I think that was allowed, but I’m unsure. If not, I apologise, and they’re still in their shrink wrapping. Sadly, there was no matching gown.
Masik Pass was simply stunning inside, it’s nothing like anywhere else we stayed. It’s on par with international luxury standards and reminded me of The Venetian in Las Vegas, especially the bathrooms. It sits in the middle of nowhere with a bright allure. Not bad for a country with a power shortage, especially considering we were the only guests, and the staff outnumbered us. Man, that was a weird visit.
Another fun fact: Masik Pass came to international notoriety in 2013 after having it’s outsourced ski lift order blocked by the United Nations, classifying it a ‘prestigious propaganda project’. North Korea officially responded by labelling the decision a serious abuse of human rights.
CD: The Song of the Sun Will Be Immortal
With modern classics such as “Long Live Generalissimo Kim Il Sung”, “Our Leader Beloved of People” and “The General Lives Forever as the Sun”, I just had to have it. Apparently the eighth CD in the collection, a quick ponder of the track list may leave you wondering how many further amalgamations of Kim Il-Sung and authoritarian synonyms are left mathematically possible.
In all seriousness, I wanted to leave North Korea with something like this. North Korean music is unique, every song is politically influenced — pop music as we know it simply does not exist. Musical freedom is undefined, it’s usually militaristic, upbeat and supported orchestrally with female vocals. References to the leaders and self-reliance ideology are certain. I watched many performances on Korean State Television in Pyongyang, and it focussed more on the religious celebration (of the leaders) than the music. Amazing stuff, and a great souvenir.
The Pyongyang Times is the foreign language edition of the local Korean newspaper distributed across the country. This newspaper is North Korean citizens’ only exposure to the outside world, it’s state controlled and offers a restricted view of reality. It’s a fascinating read.
I was told that by law, Kim Jong-Un is featured on the front page of each edition and that it’s illegal to fold in the middle, as it could crease the Great Leader’s head. The paper cannot be used in a disrespectful manner (firestarter, cleaning a mess, etc.) as it retains near holy status, outlining the progression of the Korean people and the Juche ideology. I read three editions and found that each one followed the same structure, beginning with political accomplishments and celebrations, followed by technological and social breakthroughs before offering a double spread in targeted, aggressive propaganda claims towards South Korea, United States and Japan. Facts were optional. Sport and smaller success stories were on the back page.
The Pyongyang Times has in the past been scrutinised due to its creative licence, including claims of South Korea’s ‘poor human rights record’, of maintaining a 50% unemployment rate and their spread of incurable disease.
This newspaper was one of my favourite souvenirs. I’ve included three articles below from inside, they’re an entertaining read.
P.S – Do you have any souvenirs with an interesting story from your travels? If so, I’d love to hear about it in the comments below!
Isolated and known for its exemplary personality cult, nuclear capabilities and militaristic theatrics - take a rare look inside all corners of one of the world's most secretive countries, The Democratic People's Republic of Korea.
In a Nutshell: I visited North Korea in late 2014 and over 16 days ventured to all corners of this mysterious nation on one of the longest itineraries ever executed for foreigners. Here are 100 photos (part 1) taken during this visit to North Korea.
About: I’m Elliott. I’m the tour director at North Korea tour operator Uri Tours. I travel a lot myself, sometimes to the unusual, weird and wacky. Earth Nutshell is where I share my experiences. Interested in visiting North Korea for yourself? Shoot me an email at elliott@uritours.com.
During National Day celebrations in Moranbong Park in Pyongyang, I was invited over by a Pyongyang family to join them for lunch and soju (rice wine). One of my guides acted as the translator as I asked them about their daily life and what it was like to live in Pyongyang. “It’s a great place to live, everyone has a job.”Naengmyeon noodles, a delicacy originating in Pyongyang. It’s a dish served cold with dressing and red chilli paste. It’s quite tasty but difficult to eat with chopsticks.This makes me nervous. This photo was taken in the mountainous countryside of North Korea’s second largest city, Hamhung.General Kim Jong-Il is never far away. Departing the Pyongyang Metro.Korean Peoples Army soldiers in uniform enjoying some downtime on rides at the Kaeson Youth Amusement Park, Pyongyang.It’s illegal for tourists to handle or obtain local North Korean Won. To pay, you must use either USD, Euro or Chinese RMB. Lower denominations are highly recommended, as correct change is rarely given. I received a Sprite, chewing gum and a North Korean flag postage stamp as change during this visit and sometimes got no change at all.Mansudae Art Studio, Pyongyang. Pictured is a famous North Korean artist responsible for beautiful landscape works adorning buildings in Pyongyang. Yes, he was actually painting.“Let’s protect the great comrades politically and ideologically with our lives!” You can make out small solar panels sitting on apartment balconies here. Solar panels are becoming commonplace all over North Korea as people demand alternative power sources. Electricity remains a luxury and even Pyongyang experiences regular, intermittent power cut-outs.
The southern gateway to Pyongyang denoted by the Arch of Reunification. Behind me is a controlled access six-lane highway that heads south to the Demilitarized Zone. Citizens require special permission to live, work or even enter Pyongyang.A North Korean monk at the Pohyon Buddhist Temple at Mt. Myohyang. Minority religion took me off guard in North Korea, an otherwise atheist nation with a mandatory belief system of the Juche ideology, the brainchild of President Kim Il-Sung himself. Buddhist temples in North Korea are cultural relics of the past and those who worship have approval. There was even a Russian Orthodox Church in Pyongyang and there’s a mosque in the diplomatic compound. Unauthorised religious activity, especially proselytising in North Korea carries harsh punishment and has been the catalyst behind most foreigner detainments.The Pyongyang Military Circus was a surprise in a great way. The performance was flawless and all involved were incredibly talented. No animals were involved in performances either — I was expecting the worst. Animals are still used in the Pyongyang State Circus.A day at the beach for North Koreans.You are looking across into South Korea. This open space is the Joint Security Area which straddles the political border within the Demilitarized Zone. The physical border is where the light gravel turns dark denoted by the raised concrete line. Cross that line and you’ll be shot. The blue buildings are halfway in each Korea and by entering them, one can theoretically cross to the South. The large building ahead is the ‘Freedom House’, ironically housing a dozen surveillance cameras.Tonight’s dinner was petrol clambake. Clams were lit on fire with a layer of gasoline, and they’re cooked by spraying more gasoline until golden brown and ready to eat! It was surprisingly delicious and has been one of my most memorable meals in North Korea.Say what you want about Pyongyang but it doesn’t lack charm.Formally dressed ladies arriving to show their respects to the Great Leaders lying in state at the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun (The Mausoleum).
The Revolutionary Martyrs’ Cemetary is the memorial to those North Koreans pivotal to victory in the Anti-Japanese Struggle. Each tombstone here has been individually sculpted to the fallen. The grave of Kim Jong-Suk, President Kim Il-Sung’s first wife sits at the very top and it’s customary to lay flowers. Kim Jong-Suk has been glorified as the definitive Anti-Japanese hero and a motherly figure to North Korea, enjoying a position in the Kim family personality cult, sometimes appearing as the third portrait in homes. The locations are meticulously selected in North Korea and this cemetery faces a phenomenal view of Pyongyang.This is the first thing you see upon entering the orphanage in the city of Nampo. I’m undecided whether it’s cute, creepy or downright disturbing. I didn’t like this place and felt it to be one of the more obvious and unnecessary facades in a visit to North Korea.All photos of the Great Leader’s must be in a frame that’s thicker at the top, this way they are always looking down upon those in the room. It’s a legal requirement for these portraits to feature in every household and be regularly cleaned with a special cloth for official inspection by the state.Korean People’s Army officers stand guarding the door to South Korea at the DMZ. One step between them and late-stage capitalism. These officers are technically standing in South Korea, the conference room is split in half and used for negotiation purposes.Locals seen tirelessly carrying sacks up and down Manphok Valley at Mt. Myohyang for weight training. Some are very young.This is the Pyongyang-Kaesong Motorway (Reunification Highway) providing a direct link to the DMZ. It’s a long, lonely controlled access no man’s land bypassing most rural towns and villages. It’s rough, potholed and poorly maintained but it’s still the best highway in the North Korea outside Pyongyang. There were seven military checkpoints from Pyongyang to DMZ.I played a round of golf at Pyongyang Golf Course. One of my guides came prepared for a day on the grass by wearing high heels. She quickly regretted that decision. My guides knew nothing about golf and had never visited the course before, it’s so rarely visited that we even got lost trying to find it. My 18-hole round here ended up being one of my favourite experiences in North Korea, here is a further look.‘On-the-spot guidance’ is a North Korean term referring to an official visit by the Great Leader. Their visit will be documented and immortalised with the date, how many times they have visited and often a marking on the ground accompanied by a photo. This was true for any brick and mortar establishment ranging from supermarkets, museums, schools to farms.
Each of the sixteen stations in the Pyongyang Metro had an expansive mural like this. Every station had a unique theme.Early morning in Kaesong city. As I took this photo, propaganda speeches were loudly blasting into the streets from loudspeakers placed on buildings. There is no vehicular traffic, so the city is eerily quiet except for that melodramatic voice piercing the streets. It felt like a textbook example of communist society.‘Folklore Street’ is a development in the city of Sariwon, south of Pyongyang. Its purpose is to present a romanticised version of ancient Korea.This is the regally decored and empty waiting room at Pyongyang Train Station. There is an international train that departs every day for Dandong, China. American citizens are banned from entering or departing North Korea by train.Pyongyang appears to be pieced together like colourful lego from a distance.This is the entrance to the International Friendship Exhibition. The doors part ways as you approach. Behind is a lavish tunnel system carved into the mountains with numbered rooms which proudly display hundreds of thousands of gifts given to each Great Leader by foreign governments and entities. The basketball signed by Michael Jordan and given to General Kim Jong-Il by Madeleine Albright is showcased here, as are extravagant gifts like golden AK47’s, bear skin rugs and even a taxidermied alligator cocktail server. Almost every nation on earth is represented and this site is used as evidence of the Great Leader’s international diplomacy prowess, influence and endearment.South Korea is in the distance. This photo was taken an hours drive east, parallel to the Demilitarized Zone at what is known infamously as the ‘Concrete Wall’. The North Koreans claim this wall spans the entirety of the peninsula and was built by South Korea and the Americans to restrict free passage into the South and ultimately prevent a unified Korea. It’s been a mainstay to the North Korean victim-complex for decades. Even with binoculars and a clear day, the wall was nowhere to be seen. The Concrete Wall was truly a weird visit, I documented it for you here to read.The American ‘Spy Ship’ USS Pueblo was captured by North Korea in 1968. It remains docked in the Taedong River in Pyongyang and is used as a leading propaganda tool, solid evidence of American aggression. As a tourist you’re encouraged to board the vessel where you’ll see bullet holes, watch a video on the capture and hear stories of North Korean heroism. The USS Pueblo remains a commissioned vessel, the only American vessel still held captive.
I had my birthday in North Korea and this was my lavish cake. It was a great night, one to remember!Gardens are easily maintained in Pyongyang. Photo taken at The Mausoleum.Kwangbok Supermarket, Pyongyang. The plaques above the door indicate the visitations of General Kim Jong-Il and Marshal Kim Jong-Un. This had only just opened and I was the second foreigner ever allowed inside. The payment process was confusing and there were lots of Chinese products. Photos were banned. I was told that everyone shopped here, but realistically this was a store reserved for the relatively wealthy with disposable income.When I was in primary school we took excursions to a local quarry to take rock samples to learn about geology. In North Korea, schoolchildren will be led on a school excursion to visit the embalmed bodies of their late leaders at the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun. Discipline is strict and formation is ingrained. Political indoctrination is from a young age.A mural marking the entrance to Sinchon, the location of an alleged brutal massacre at the hands of the United States during the Korean War. We visited here for the Sinchon Museum of American War Atrocities.Spotlights surround sites of national importance all over North Korea. We were advised of hidden surveillance, too, but this is unconfirmed by my account.“According to the Party’s leadership, let’s work vigorously to a more prosperous country and homeland!”, “Let’s sweat more for the motherland!”, “What have I dedicated to the country?” A rare look at the North Korean manual labour industry, we were taken to the Hungnam Fertiliser Factory in Hamhung. I felt that if this place was the best example of workforce conditions, the rest of them were best kept secretive.“Let’s get revenge on the imperialist murderers who brutally murdered our innocent children!” Photo taken in Sinchon. This man is one of the three survivors pictured to the right of an alleged massacre by the United States of women and children in a nursery. Just outside is a giant mural depicting American soldiers murdering women and throwing and stepping on the necks of children.
This is the Kimjongilia, a type of begonia named after General Kim Jong-Il and unsurprisingly his favourite flower. It adorned his corpse for public display after his death and each year around his birthday in February there is a Kimjongilia flower exhibition. There is also a Kimilsungia named after his father with an exhibition held during April.“If the great Supreme Commander Comrade makes a decision, we must proceed accordingly!” I didn’t know it at the time, but this construction ended up being the renovated Mangyongdae Children’s Palace, an extracurricular school in Pyongyang for the gifted and privileged to reach their potential in arts, crafts and sports. It’s now a popular place to visit on tourist itineraries.“Long live the great Comrade Kim Jong-Un, the sun of Songun (military-first) Korea!” En route to Mt Myohyang.I hate to say it but similarities between broken, desolate cities in most zombie apocalypse movies just can’t be dismissed.An average street in Haeju. The sign says “The Cultural Revolution.”Rich colour and a dull cityscape. Welcome to Kaesong.“The Great Comrade Kim Il-Sung and Comrade Kim Jong-Il will be with us eternally.” A major ministerial building in central Pyongyang.Locals fishing in the Taedong River, Pyongyang. This photo was taken through a porthole on the captured American ‘Spy Ship’ USS Pueblo docked here.
A young girl dressed for the National Day festivities in Moranbong Park.As with North Korean state television, General Kim Jong-Il appears in the Rodong Sinmun newspaper years beyond his death offering field guidance as if it’s a current event. Pictured is today’s paper on a public stand in the Pyongyang Metro. “Let the immortal achievements built by Workers’ Party of Korea last for as long as ten million years.”Young North Korean soldiers partaking in a mixed-gender military drill somewhere between Wonsan and Hamhung on the east coast. North Korean citizens are conditioned to be ready for war at all times, undergoing regular training drills, evacuation drills and air raid drills.The Foreign Languages Bookshop in Pyongyang. This is a common stop on a visit to Kim Il-Sung Square and has some great souvenirs not limited to books, including posters, stamp collections and postcards. If you’re after a published text, why not treat your mother on her upcoming birthday with a copy of “Kim Jong-Un – Let Us Brilliantly Accomplish The Revolutionary Cause Of Juche Holding Kim Jong-Il In High Esteem As The Eternal General Secretary Of Our Party.” This is an actual title I found in the store.We were taken into the control room of the Hungnam Fertiliser Factory to meet those in charge and ogle at the technology. Windows is used as the operating system as it was at the Grand Peoples Study House in Pyongyang. America can’t be that bad after all.This couple were having their wedding day photos taken at the Pyongyang Botanical Gardens. The bride, groom and family included us in some photos. We weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion but I can’t imagine many North Korean weddings have had foreigner attendees, so they likely acquired some bragging rights today, as did we.A table laid out for one in an empty restaurant, three waitresses and ten plates of food which I didn’t even put a dent into. Out of every table available, mine faced the Korean state television broadcast. This is no coincidence.Mobile phones are now commonplace in North Korea’s major cities. ‘Bar’ phones, flip phones and touch screens were all available, usually Chinese imported models with customised (censored) software. They connect via Koryolink, North Korea’s main telecommunications network that has blocked both internet access and international calls. Koryolink has a separate network for foreigners and you are unable to call North Korean SIM’s and they can’t call you.
The autumn woodlands in the untouched countryside of Pujon County. This is a remote area of the country rarely seen by foreigners as it’s only visitable on certain itineraries a handful of months a year.Apartment blocks all over the country are simply cold, depressing, weathered old slabs of concrete. North Korea has freezing, snowy winters without any heating and agriculture come to a halt. It must be a rough time to be a North Korean.This is some local housing pictured on the west coast on the outskirts of Nampho.This is one of my guides taking his first ever golf shot at Pyongyang Golf Course. He had never heard of golf before today and he took a real liking to it. A 4 hour round turned into 6 hours as he was adamant on learning.With this scene in Pyongyang, you could almost forget you were in North Korea. Note also the solar panels on the street lights.Haeju. Americans tourists are not welcome here, literally. If you have Americans on your tour you’re are not allowed to stop anywhere in Haeju. We had to get special approval for a toilet stop in a hotel not visible to the street.This is Masikryong Hotel inside the Masikryong Ski Resort (Masik Pass), one of the most luxurious hotels in North Korea. It was built at the order of Marshal Kim Jong-Un in just 10 months by the Korean People’s Army to boost tourism numbers. It’s situated in the middle of nowhere and the lights on arrival hit you like a hotel in Las Vegas. I visited during summer so there was no snow and no other guests, yet there was more staff than us. It was an odd visit, but an international standard 5-star hotel inside.Mount Kumgang (Kumgangsan) is known for its exclusive scenic beauty found nowhere else in North Korea. We did some hiking here to reach Kuryong Falls. It’s quite close to the border with South Korea on the south east coast. Once upon a time, South Korean tourists were permitted to visit this region of North Korea on short tours across the DMZ and it’s noticeably sterile of propaganda.“Pollution-free greenhouse the Great Leader Comrade Kim Jong-Il has sent us.” This is the Wonsan Agriculture University, the triangle on the ground is where General Kim Jong-Il stood when he had his photograph taken here. The majority of crops in North Korea are tended to by hand, as machinery and fuel are in short supply.Murals are on every corner and are simply unavoidable.Here’s another gigantic mural at the entrance to the Pyongyang Feature Film Studios. This is where the North Korean blockbuster films you know and love have been produced. General Kim Jong-Il, a great lover of film, is said to have visited here hundreds of times. There are movie sets here replicating historic Japanese and European streets with surprising accuracy.This photo was taken in Sinuiju, North Korea and that is China you can see across the water. I had just endured over two hours of search and I was now free to cross the ‘Friendship Bridge’ connecting both nations into the relative freedom of ‘Communist’ China.This photo is a true window into Pyongyang and the political smokescreen it upholds. Those beautiful skyscrapers are not representative of anywhere else in the country.
Want to visit North Korea for yourself? I can help. I’m the tour director at Uri Tours, a North Korea tour operator. For inquiries you can contact me directly at elliott@uritours.com.
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Isolated and known for its exemplary personality cult, nuclear capabilities and militaristic theatrics - take a rare look inside all corners of one of the world's most secretive countries, The Democratic People's Republic of Korea.
In a Nutshell: I visited North Korea in late 2014 and over 16 days ventured to all corners of this mysterious nation on one of the longest itineraries ever executed for foreigners. Here are 100 photos (part 1) taken during this visit to North Korea.
About: I’m Elliott. I’m the tour director at North Korea tour operator Uri Tours. I travel a lot myself, sometimes to the unusual, weird and wacky. Earth Nutshell is where I share my experiences. Interested in visiting North Korea for yourself? Shoot me an email at elliott@uritours.com.
The morning skyline of North Korea’s capital city, Pyongyang. This photo was taken from the Yanggakdo Hotel. The pointed building is the unopened Ryugyong Hotel.The fleet of North Korean airline ‘Air Koryo’ at Pyongyang Sunan airport. Air Koryo is the only airline rated by Skytrax as ‘one-star’, and until 2010 was banned from flying into the EU after failing to meet regulatory safety standards.This is the Mansudae Grand Monument in Pyongyang, North Korea’s most sacred monument. Locals will visit here to lay flowers and bow in respect for their past two Great Leaders, President Kim Il-Sung and General Kim Jong-Il, who are revered as the guiding fathers of the Korean people. These statues overlook the city and remain illuminated at night.A countryside town we drove past east of Kaesong along the DMZ.Smartly-dressed traffic ladies are iconic in North Korea and their profession is highly respected. Their movements are definitive and militaristic and they hold authority over the road like a traffic light. Traffic ladies will salute those vehicles driven by Worker’s Party of Korea delegates, indicated by their number plates.A local guide giving us a recap on the Korean War from the North Korean perspective, a version of events often discredited or unheard. These perfectly manicured gardens serve as the gateway to the ‘Victorious Fatherland Liberation War Museum’.Music Appreciation Room. That’s what the sign said on the door. Photo taken inside the Grand Peoples Study House, Pyongyang.The main ministerial building in Kim Il-Sung Square, Pyongyang. Translations: “Long live our glorious Songun (military-first) revolutionary idea!” and “Long live our Democratic People’s Republic!”
Early morning in Kaesong, an industrial city near the DMZ. Kaesong was once the capital of Korea and remains a hub of ancient tradition. It’s also famous for its ginseng cultivation.This is the military checkpoint at Panmunjom within the DMZ. In the distance, you can spot the infamous 160m flagpole erected inside the village of Kijong-dong. Kijong-dong is referred to by South Korea as ‘propaganda village’, built to lure South Korean soldiers to defect across to the North during the 1950’s. The village can be seen with binoculars from South Korea and despite North Korea’s claims of Kijong-dong being an inhabited collective farm, evidence suggests the buildings are empty concrete shells with lighting on timers to give the impression of activity.Why not send your child to summer camp in North Korea? In Wonsan, a port city on North Korea’s east coast, there is the Songdowon International Children’s Union Camp. This photo is of the lobby. Signage here is in Korean, English, Russian and Chinese, and the camp can accommodate 1200 children.In countryside North Korea, buses as we know them don’t exist.Talented North Korean artists have become excellent at painting their Great Leaders. Subject matter aside, the DPRK has some of the most spectacular artworks I’ve seen.A monument of President Kim Il-Sung on Janam Hill in Kaesong. This is the best vantage point of the city, with a magnificent view of Kaesong’s old town filled with preserved traditional-style housing.Bicycles are the primary means of transport in North Korea. Cars represent an astronomical expense for the average North Korean and it’s cost prohibitive to purchase one. Gasoline shortages make them further expensive to run. Photo taken in Wonsan.A 50m-long monument on Mansu Hill in Pyongyang depicting the Anti-Japanese Revolutionary Struggle. Men, women and children; soldiers, intellectuals or farmers – everyone fought for the successful liberation of Korea from the Japanese. The scale of this monument is truly massive, each figure is on average 5 metres high.
“Total concentration, total mobilisation. All head to the harvest battle!” A propaganda billboard motivating this years ‘harvest battle’, a campaign where soldiers, office workers, labourers and even elementary school students are mobilised into the countryside for farm work. This is to boost agriculture productivity before winter hits. I took this photo in the rarely visited city of Haeju. Very few foreigners have been here.Locals chatting on the docks in the port city (and naval base) of Wonsan. Directly behind me sits the out of service ship, Mangyongbong-92. This vessel once provided ferry transport to Japan until North Korea admitted to abducting Japanese citizens. The ferry route was then permanent discontinued after North Korea fired missiles into Japanese waters.Kim Il-Sung Square. If you’ve ever seen goose-stepping North Korean soldiers on television, then you’ve seen this location. Kim Il-Sung Square is where most military parades, mass dances and rallies take place. In the distance is the Tower of the Juche Idea (Juche Tower).Private (pseudo-private) ownership of cars has exponentially increased in Pyongyang over recent years due to an emerging wealthy middle-class. Still, to own a car in North Korea’s capital remains exceptional and expensive. Even Korean People’s Army officers can’t go past the convenience and cost efficiency of a bicycle.Farmers receiving ‘on-the-spot guidance’ from President Kim Il-Sung. This photo was taken en route to the rarely visited south-west city of Haeju. The photo wasn’t very well received.This is the ‘Sinchon Museum of American War Atrocities’. It’s located in Sinchon where an alleged mass murder of North Korean civilians occurred in 1950 at the hands of the United States during the Korean War. For American visitors to North Korea, this may be the one place to make you feel uncomfortable. The murals here are graphic, brutal and depict Americans enjoying the torture of men, women and children using primitive methods. Photographs are uncensored and show mass graves, mutilated corpses and burnt women and children. The final room depicts the surrender of the Americans. The visuals are aggressive and intense, and copies of these murals are used in educational facilities to push the anti-American narrative.Statues of President Kim Il-Sung and General Kim Jong-Il watch over Wonsan harbour as locals spend their morning fishing. Seafood is plentiful in this city.This is the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun, otherwise known as the Mausoleum. Inside this building, President Kim Il-Sung and General Kim Jong-Il lie in state, embalmed inside clear glass sarcophagi for public viewing. You’re required to bow with sincerity at the feet and at both sides of each Great Leader, but not at the head. Visitations are only possible on certain days, formal dress is required and you’ll go through metal detectors, shoe cleaners and industrial-grade dust blowers. Access is via underground on long travelators. Here is a detailed write-up of my visit to the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun.
Locals excited to begin a mass dance in Pyongyang for National Day, the celebration of the founding of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (North Korea) in 1948.Photo taken outside Kaesong, adjacent to the ‘Reunification Highway’ leading to Pyongyang. There were four military checkpoints between Pyongyang and Kaesong.Locals receiving instruction outside the Pyongyang Military Circus.Dog meat soup. I passed. There were many speciality dog meat soup restaurants in Pyongyang, it’s so prevalent that the North Korean government regulates the price. We found a dog tooth inside one of these soups.Soldiers from the Korean People’s Army accompanied us on the brisk drive into the DMZ between tank traps and an active minefield. This was to reach the Joint Security Area (JSA) and the Demarcation Line (political border) itself. I wrote a virtual-tour of my visit to the DMZ here.Just me embarrassing one of my guides during a visit to the Three Revolutions Exhibition in Pyongyang. This exhibition showcases the ideological, technical and cultural power of Kim Il-Sung’s leadership, including space and nuclear advancement. Note the photo directly behind us depicting one of Kim Jong-Il’s visits to this location.Construction apparatus of this kind are commonplace throughout the entire country. The number of workforce deaths must be absolutely astounding.“Long live the Workers’ Party of Korea, the leader and the organiser of all victories of the Korean People!” Aesthetically, this is my favourite monument in North Korea. It’s officially known as the Monument to the Korean Workers Party.
Police officers having a discussion on the streets of Kaesong.The Yanggakdo International Hotel in Pyongyang. This is where most foreigners stay upon a visit to North Korea. It’s conveniently isolated on an island so you cannot leave and freeroam the city. Tourists are placed in rooms facing the best parts of Pyongyang existing to the right of this frame. It has been speculated for years the rooms are bugged.Our lunch today was a Korean banquet presented in small metal bowls traditionally served to royalty in Kaesong’s history.Young Korean People’s Army recruits just after bowing to the Great Leaders at the Mansudae Grand Monument on Mansu Hill. In the distance, you can see one of Pyongyang’s most recognisable icons, the Monument to the Korean Workers Party.On a private tour to North Korea, you’ll be assigned two tour guides and a driver. You’ll be greeted by another local guide at most major attractions who will be a walking encyclopedia on the site. Here is my female guide (left) translating for the local guide (right) at the Monument to the Korean Workers Party. Seemingly all female guides are incredibly beautiful. I don’t believe this to be a coincidence.This building is within the proximity of the specialised Mount Kumgang Tourism region on the south-east border. To the left, a restricted road leading to South Korea, to the right, Mount Kumgang. We were told swiftly (as we passed) that the building is used as a meeting point for family reunification between North and South Korea. In reality, this road hasn’t been used since 2008 when a South Korean tourist was shot dead on a tour here.Tall white buildings scatter the hillside like mushrooms, intimidating the port city of Wonsan.A conductor in the Pyongyang Metro. Contradictory to what rumours have long suggested, the people in the metro system are not actors. North Korea opened up both lines and all stops to tourists in 2014. I was part of the first group of foreigners to visit every station. It’s a hive of activity and a crucial service to Pyongyang. The Pyongyang Metro is essentially a North Korean ideological museum, here is an in-depth photo essay I did to give you a look.
Flowers lay at the foot of an exemplary monument of the Great Leaders at the Mansudae Art Studio, Pyongyang. Mansudae Art Studio is the only studio permitted to depict the likeness of the hereditary Kim family.Here’s a snippet from a book I purchased from the Foreign Languages Bookshop, translated from Korean to English. The book was named “Kim Jong-Il – The Great Man”.Our local guide at Pujon County in the remote north-east. We hiked the woodlands here and visited the Okryonsan Revolutionary Site, once an Anti-Japanese guerilla camp. With pride, we were shown the ‘slogan trees’, trees adorned with loving phrases to President Kim Il-Sung. They are preserved eternally in reinforced glass and people will protect these trees with their lives.Public holidays in North Korea usually include a colourful and choreographed mass dance celebration. This one was for National Day, the day of the founding of North Korea. As a tourist you’re permitted to join and dance with the locals which I did with my guide. The statement under the portraits translates to “Comrade Kim Il-Sung and Comrade Kim Jong-Il will be with us eternally”.These are the gardens preceding the International Friendship Exhibition at Mt. Myohyang (Myohyangsan), a 2.5-hour drive from Pyongyang. A visit is a formal occasion and locals will arrive by the bus load to catch a glimpse of the Great Leader’s well-earned treasures, proof of international endearment.You’re hit in the face by this expansive mural upon entering Chongchon Hotel at Mt Myohyang. Come in, sit down and have a hot cuppa and a cigarette with Dear Leader. Make yourself at home!This skit during an interlude of the Pyongyang Military Circus left little to the imagination. Militaristic in its entirety, the locals loved it. The last performance depicted a drunk American soldier dressed as a clown and treated as a laughing stock.Free-trade is illegal in North Korea. Sort-of. A black-market emerged after the ‘Arduous March’ (North Korean famine) in the 90’s, which has slowly become a tolerated grey-market with designated, regulated areas for market activity. These areas are named the ‘jangmadang’ and there are over 500 of them in North Korea. As a tourist, you won’t see a jangmadang. Traders unable to afford stall space at their local jangmadang endeavour to sell their produce on the street. This is actually illegal, and groups of women like this have been nicknamed ‘grasshopper merchants’ inside North Korea as they must hop around to avoid authorities. Photo taken in the middle of a dirt road, somewhere between Haeju and Sariwon.
Structural integrity is an undefined term in North Korea.One of our guides reading an (allowed, cleared by customs) guidebook on North Korea that one of us brought across the border. He was fascinated to read an outside perspective on his beloved country. Photo taken in the Pyongyang Metro.“Let’s thoroughly penetrate the militant tasks set out in this year’s New Year message!”, “The great Comrade Kim Jong-Il, we will be faithful till the end!”, “According to the leadership of the great comrade Kim Jong-Un, let’s complete the achievements of Juche revolution until the end!”Fancy a haircut? There’s a wide variety, choose wisely! In all seriousness, the rumour that North Koreans can choose only from state-approved haircuts is false, but it is illegal to dye your hair anything but black.About as good as it gets outside Pyongyang and other major municipalities.This is the typical restaurant setting inside Pyongyang. As a general rule, the restaurants you dine at as a tourist will be empty with no other expected guests. Karaoke will always be available and murals of holy places such as Mt. Paektu (Paektusan) decorate the interiors.During our visit to Hamhung, military helicopters could be spotted flying above us as we walked the beach. That night after a beach clambake and far too much soju, a group of us were intercepted on the beach by a Korean People’s Army officer with an AK47 who in kind terms, motioned that it may be past our bedtime.The DMZ is the only place in North Korea it’s legal for tourists to photograph soldiers. The soldiers are more than happy to take photos and crack a smile here, they’re even up for selfies. The atmosphere at the DMZ from the North is relaxed and not tense as you imagine. It’s an ironic far cry from the scare tactics and intimidation used by South Korean tour guides and American servicemen on that side of the border.
The portraits of President Kim Il-Sung and General Kim Jong-Il are even inside each train carriage. The Pyongyang Metro is flooded with propaganda; downtime spent transiting is an excellent opportunity for ideological impression.The local school bus. Children stack on top of one another for transit.Just a small selection of the foreign texts available to purchase in North Korea. The presentation for many is heavily borrowed from international religious texts. Some resembled more of a funeral handout than a published work.A young boy sits innocently within a giant militaristic propaganda mural in the city of Haeju. It says “Long live the great victory of Songun (military-first) politics!”Students in Pyongyang curious about what we’re up to in Kim Il-Sung Square.Snake soju (rice wine), ginseng jelly and other North Korean delicacies are for sale at many tourist locations. The snake soju is bottled with a live snake, the more venomous, the more expensive and the greater the ‘medicinal’ payoff. It’s the peak of luxury in North Korea.A captured US Army helicopter showcased at the Victorious Fatherland Liberation War Museum in Pyongyang. Note the photos above, one of the American ‘imperialists’ surrendering and the other a gruesome uncensored photo of an American pilot shot in the head. Schoolchildren visit here in groups to learn about the Korean War.A local in Pyongyang chatting to a police officer after being pulled over.Taking a nap on the back of a moving coal powered truck.The Pyongyang Times translated into English. This image speaks for itself, enjoy the read.“Long live the great revolutionary traditions of our party, hooray!”, “National Reunification, frequent self-defence.” To the right sits the ‘Arch of Triumph’, which was built with exactly 25,500 blocks, one for each day of President Kim Il-Sung’s life for his 70th birthday.
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Want to visit North Korea for yourself? I can help. I’m the tour director at Uri Tours, a North Korea tour operator. For inquiries you can contact me directly at elliott@uritours.com.
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