I hadn't long been in Korea when I first took the train up to Seoul one weekend and took my first look around the capital and all it had to offer. Having navigated the labyrinth-like metro system and managed to make it past the tens of thousands of people which cling to Seoul's pavements, I had found myself wandering aimlessly round Hongdae, the infamously effervescent neighbourhood lost amongst the Seoul's sea of sky scrapers and highways. However, despite this early venture, I found myself preferring other options for my weekend diversions, which mostly included getting to know Daejeon a whole lot better whilst also spreading my wings across paths less well traveled by the typical Western teacher who finds themselves working in the endless satellite suburbs which radiate from the capital. Recently, I have found myself being drawn with increasing frequency back to Seoul at the weekends; back to the bright lights, back to the vast array of international food, back to the clubs in which I may, if I'm lucky, hear some semblance to the indie music that fill the clubs back in England. And back, almost inevitably, to Hongdae and all that's held within.
During the day, the life of Hongdae plays out much like any other neighbourhood in any other city in Korea. Granted there are more bars and clubs than would be expected in a more suburban setting, but apart from that, the omnipotent Family Marts and Paris Baguettes fail to hint at the nocturnal activities which are on offer. However, at night, the streets and bars are throbbing with the heartbeat of the Korean youth population. The infamous streets of Hongdae are the spiritual home of the "lost generation" of Korea; of those youths seeking something more than the pressures and expectations put upon them by their families. As the weekend comes around, all roads led to Hongdae, where disillusioned youths from the provinces mix with party-going Westerners and the cool art students of Hongik University which have helped make the area as multifarious as it is today. Most foreign English teachers will have their own tales of their times in Hongdae, whilst my own Korean colleagues often raise an eyebrow at least when I tell them of plans to visit Hongdae, such is its nationwide infamy.
My own personal experiences of Hongdae differ every time I go there, such is the intangible nature of the neighbourhood. That said, prior to stepping out into the haze of noise, neon lights and throngs of people, I have often reacquainted myself with some soju, to kick the evening off on a Korean note, before divulging myself in alcoholic vices which cannot be found in my neighbourhood. The bar scene in Hongdae is not really different from that of Daejeon, there's just more bars to choose from. A lot more. In fact, there are a ridiculous amount of bars scattered all around Hongdae which, despite the competition, always seem to be brimming with party-goers. There is also, happily, a greater choice of poison, although I have personally yet to find the dark rum that I drink back in England. Maybe it's for the best, as if I actually found it, I could well become Captain Comatose by nights end. Another positive in the bar scene is the presence of sports bars which happily show the live English Premier League games at a time which oh so conveniently coincides with our own take on happy hour. And, depending on the result, I can head off to a club in a happier mood thanks to some celebratory tequila. Or some consolidation cocktails...
The main attraction for me in Hongdae, away from the decent bars, plentiful Westerners and good food, is the club scene. More specifically the indie music club scene. My time at uni would be filled with nights spent at less than respectable venues listening to the best indie music Yorkshire had to offer. Or failing that, drinking away the evening at an RnB club whilst wishing I was getting my feet stuck to the floor at one of the seedier indie venues down the street. But in Korea, well Daejeon at least, indie music, or any semblance to it, has been well and truly lost in translation. But in Hongdae, this is not the case. Every possible music taste is catered for, from kpop to classic rock. The first time I ventured to Hongdae with my neighbour Alison, we headed straight for the legendary Club FF, a place we had heard could cater for our needs for some diversion outside the realms of American RnB and kpop. And I, for one, wasn't disappointed. The place was underground, and felt like it. The walls were dirty, the floor was sticky, the bar was haphazard, the general aura was that of a grimy indie club which could have been lifted with consummate ease from a back street in Manchester and put into a Hongdae basement. And the music which filtered through the smoky air filled me with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. It was the music of my university years; unmistakable, unforgettable and reverberating all around.
A staple of a night out in Hongdae is the early morning walk in the fledgling sunshine along streets littered with discarded flyers, empty Cass cans and drunken Koreans hugging the pavement. Stopping off at late-night/early morning take out places is always complemented with nonsensical conversations with other foreigners who have also made the trip in from the provinces. There aren't any life affirming friendships made in these exchanges, but is there ever going to be at 6'30am? At least in Hongdae the inane drunken banter is soothed by food that isn't kimbap or McDonald's ill-conceived Koreanised menu. As the sun continues its ascent, and the vividness of the lights starts to wane, its time to leave the streets, and the drunken stragglers, behind and slink back to my motel.
The next day, with the journey back to the provinces looming large on the near horizon, is normally a more subdued affair. One of the best things about a Saturday night out in Seoul (be it in Hongdae, or Itaewon) is the fact that come Sunday lunchtime, with just a short metro trip (or an even shorter walk), decent Western food can be found with relative ease. Although Hongdae doesn't offer the same quantity of Western food offerings than Itaewon does, it does offer enough to keep my cravings for a meal not rice-based at bay until at least Thursday. One such example is a Mexican taco restaurant, which provides a lick of Latin flavour to the culinary options in Hongdae, and acts as a welcome opportunity to sample something different and a much appreciated taste of the past. Granted the Mexican food scene is Yorkshire is somewhat lacking, but when I was living in Sevilla, one of the more affordable and appetising local restaurants was a small Mexican offering, complete with multicoloured wooden chairs and the best chicken burritos I've ever come across. Unfortunately, the Seoul variety was not at this level. But still, it was far better than anything else remotely resembling Mexican food anywhere near my apartment, and thus always gratefully received. Having filled up on Western food, indie music and good times, the time comes once again for me to pull myself back to the provinces, and leave the irrepressible Hongdae behind me. Until next time, obviously.
