Yes, yes. I know it's the oldest pun around, but this city just has something going for it.

I arrived in Seoul on a Saturday afternoon in early October. It was still quite warm and I was very comfortable going about in trousers and a shirt. I tend to bundle up a bit on the heavy side, though. There were plenty of Koreans bouncing about with shorts and t-shirts.

I had agreed to meet my friend in front of a cinema. As I was waiting, I was treated to an impromptu breakdancing competition on the plaza in front of the cinema. The taste in hiphop might be a bit wonky, but the moves are technically precise. A real treat.

My friend met me and we went out for a coffee. Then for a stroll around the city at night. There is a stream that runs through the city; I think it's called the Chongyecheon. The stream had recently had its banks repaved and redecorated, so it was a pleasant walk. At the end of the stream walk, though, there was erected a large sculpture eerily akin to an ice cream cone. It was called Spring and had been unveiled only the previous day.

I spent the night "Korean style." That is, sleeping on the floor in the living room. It was amazingly comfortable and I woke refreshed. I set out with a map, my Lonely Planet guide, and an open mind (all three things are useful in South Korea).

My first sight was the big one, Gyeongbokgung Palace. This is the Royal Seat of South Korea. Built in the Joseon dynasty, it is the heart of Korea. The palace is really a collection of smaller administrative buildings. It was here that I had my first disillusionment with Korea: all of the "traditional" buildings look the same. There is one basic exterior design and one basic interior color scheme. They're beautiful but repetitive. So, I didn't have many problems bypassing the more crowded buildings and spending more time in the nooks and crannies of the more neglected areas.

I managed to get into an area all by myself and it totally quiet. This was the first moment of perfect silence since I'd been in Korea. It was divine.

Finishing the tour of the palace, I took my time and moseyed down to Jogyesa temple. The holiday of Chu-Sok was rapidly approaching, so lots of Koreans were kowtowing to Buddha. At least I think that's why. Either way, it was a sight to see these women (for it was mostly women) performing this ritual bending of the knees and banging of the head on the floor.

As I was sitting outside, an older gentleman approached me and asked me if I had any questions. I asked him a few questions to be polite and he was very nice. He told me a bit about the history of the temple and about Buddhism. It's worth going just to have a chat with an old Buddhist, really.

Next stop, Pagoda Park. Pagoda Park (Tapgol Park in transliterated/translated Korean) is to Korea what the chambers of the Continental Congress were to America, the birth of freedom. This is where Korean independence was born. There is a monument with translations of their Declaration in English, Chinese, and Japanese. The park is now popular with old gentlemen eating lunch. I found myself in a rousing discussion about the American military.

My last stop was Insadong, Seoul's arts and crafts (read touristy stuff) district. I succumbed to the urge and bought two gifts for friends back on Jeju. It wasn't too expensive.

That was my only sightseeing day in Seoul, to be honest. I headed down to Busan for an utterly forgettable day. Then back to Jeju, which is for now my favorite place in Korea.