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nonojourney · 7 years ago

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Jeongja & Yuldong park

Aujourd'hui, je devais me rendre à l'autre bout de la ville, d'ailleurs, je pense qu'on peut sûrement considérer là où je me suis rendue comme “hors de Séoul”. Pourquoi suis-je allée si loin ? Tout simplement pour un entretien ! J'avais répondu à une annonce, quelqu'un cherchant un français pour l'assister. Après plus ample renseignement, cela serait pour donner des cours de Français à des enfants. Décidément, on dirait bien que la Corée du Sud veut faire de moi une prof ! Bon sang petit pays, est-ce que tu veux que je te sorte mes vieilles notes que j'avais en dictée quand j'étais à l'école ?

Me voilà donc en vadrouille ! C'est partie pour plus de cinquante minutes de trajet, d'abord la ligne 2 (verte) en direction de Gangnam pour ensuite prendre la ligne rouge. D'ailleurs, c'est l'un des premiers transfert où je dois repasser ma carte ? Étrange ! En plus, j'ai cru que ça n'avait pas marché, car les barrières m'ont tapé dans les jambes. La Corée serait-elle contre moi ou ma vilaine carte T-Money serait-elle en train de me jouer des tours, encore ? Après un voyage dans un métro super neuf et classe, me voilà à Jeongja. Je savais à quel exit je devais sortir et comme une andouille, sans savoir pourquoi je sors au mauvais ! Bon sang exit 3, Nono ! C'était pas bien difficile, pourquoi tu as pris le 6 ? Ceci m'amène juste du mauvais côté de la route et si vous connaissez Séoul, vous redoutez surement les passages piétons qui durent 15 ans ! Tant pis, j'accepte ma sentence !

Après avoir enfin traversé, je me lance à la recherche du lieu de rendez-vous. Heureusement, avant de venir j'ai visité le coin en mode “Google street view” mon meilleur ami, pour m'aider et me sauver. Donc, je savais où aller, après, il fallait trouver le bon numéro. Par chance, je suis venue bien en avance pour palier à ce problème et donc avoir le temps de chercher. J'étais à la limite de demander de l'aide au premier passant venu, quand je vois le numéro 121, j'entre donc dans l'immeuble et je trouve où c'est sur le plan. Finalement, ce fut assez simple et l'entretien tout aussi facile, le tout en Français. Reste à voir si j'accepte où pas...

Une fois cet entretien fini, il est l'heure de partir à l'aventure dans ce coin inconnu. Je m'étais un peu renseignée pour voir s'il y avait des choses sympa à voir. L'unique coin intéressant serait un parc du nom de Yuldong park. Le tout à trouver en mode “yolo”, car je n'ai pas de plan, aucune direction, rien ! J'ai juste une vague idée d'où il se trouve et mon GPS n'a clairement pas envie d'être très coopératif avec moi. Du coup, tant pis, j'y vais à l'aveugle ! Vous savez, ce qu'il y a de plus beau avec l'exploration quand on ne sait pas où on va ? C'est qu'on fait toujours des découvertes inattendu et magnifique et qu'on en ressort rarement déçu !

Je marche avec pour seul et unique but de me rapprocher de la montagne, il est 13h30 passé, je n'ai rien mangé hormis mon petit déjeuner avant de venir. Alors, j'opte pour la solution “Seven Eleven” histoire d'acheter deux petits trucs à manger quand j'aurais trouvé un coin où me poser. Cette petite rue que j'emprunte, elle est totalement atypique et d'un côté je trouve qu'elle à un petit quelque chose d'anglais. C'est surement la faute aux briques rouges des maisons, mais j'adore cette ambiance et ce style.

J'ai oublié de vous dire, qu'il y avait de la neige ! Là où j'habite et un peu partout dans Séoul, il n'y a plus de neige. J'imagine qu'il a neigé dernièrement, peut-être même dans la nuit ici. Du coup, ça me donne l'impression d'être partie loin, d'avoir traversé une faille temporelle !

Ce que j’aime dans ce petit quartier, c’est la présence de la forêt/montagne juste derrière. J’ai découvert un sentier, mais enneigé et sans les bonnes chaussures, j’ai préféré abandonner, surtout que mon objectif reste le Yuldong Park.

Ma quête continue, je marche encore et encore et au bout d'un long moment, le nom de mon objectif apparait sur un panneau de direction ! Victoire, je suis dans la bonne direction. Comme quoi, Nono on ne dirait pas, mais elle a le sens de l'orientation (oui, je parle de moi à la troisième personne, je fais ce que je veux, c'est mon article !). Par contre, les Coréens sont vraiment avares en panneau... Avant de retrouver un panneau indiquant la direction, j'ai marché tellement longtemps ! Je me retrouve encore sans savoir le bonne direction, je prends une rue totalement au hasard. Il est trois heures passés, j'aimerais bien me poser quelqu'un et manger mon pique-nique ! J'emprunte un chemin qui monte sur la pseudo colline/montagne, ce n'est absolument pas le parc, mais tant pis, j'ai besoin de me poser quelque part. Je me retrouve sur un petit “parcours sportif” et pique nique sur un banc avant de reprendre mon exploration et de grimper le long du chemin. Je n'ai pas la moindre idée d'où je vais, je ne fais que suivre le sentier, heureuse de me retrouver dans les bois.

C'est d'un calme, c'est reposant et vraiment agréable ! Bon, comme n'importe quelle forêt, surtout en mode hivernal, c'est un peu triste et effrayant, juste un peu ! Mais l'ambiance reste vraiment très sympathique. Je finis par croiser un monsieur qui promène son mini caniche et une conversation commence. C'est tellement improbable à chaque fois ! Le monsieur me parle en anglais (même s'il a quelque difficulté). Après cette rencontre je reprends la route, bonjour la montée de dingue et je suis super bien équipé niveau chaussure... (j'avais pas prévu de crapahuter dans la forêt moi !).

La découverte la plus intéressante de ce jour, se trouve sur les photos qui vont suivre. Sans en être sûre (parce que je n'ai pas pu vérifier l'info), je crois bien être tombée sur des tombes. Après, je dis peut-être des bêtises, mais de ce que j'ai pu voir dans des films, ça y ressemble !

En continuant sur le sentier, j'ai finalement trouvé le Yuldong Park en contre-bas. Finalement, il était bien moins fou que ce que j'imaginais et ma petite balade en forêt était bien plus plaisante. Le parc est plein d'œuvres artistiques.

Il y avait également une sorte temple ? Je présume que c’est ça, avec une tombe juste au dessus ?

Le parc à un lac qui était totalement gelé. Si quelqu’un qui passe par là à envie de faire du saut à l’élastique, il y a une structure pour ça, au dessus du lac, bien sur fermée en hiver ! Avis aux courageux totalement dingue !

C'est simple d'aller quelque part sans vraiment savoir... le tout c'est de retrouver son chemin pour rentrer. Devant repartir par un endroit par lequel je ne suis pas venue, je ne pouvais compter que sur mon sens aiguisé de l'orientation (vous foutez pas de ma gueule !). Parce que j'ai réussi ! Bon, il y a un moment, j'ai dérivé de ma route sans savoir, j'avais pourtant retrouvé ma route d'origine, mais j'ai fait un détour. Je ne peux pas me l'expliquer ! L'essentiel c'est que j'ai retrouvé la station de métro pour rentrer, mes pieds douloureux d'avoir autant marché avec les mauvaises chaussures. J'ai également frôlé le malaise dans le métro. Je ne sais pas pourquoi ? Heureusement qu'on arrivait au terminus, car un peu plus et Nono elle se retrouvait sur le sol évanouie (comme une fois à Grenoble dans le bus !). Rassurez-vous, tout va bien ! C'est une péripétie de plus lors de mon voyage :D

#Seoul #corée du sud #south korea #voyage #travel #Journey #yuldong park #mountain #forest #jeongja #photo #photos #photography

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bangtan-gal · 5 years ago

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If the City was Mine Pt. 1

Chapter 1--Pink

Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: minor swearing, fluff

The smell of cotton candy was overwhelming.

Truthfully, it felt cliche, to be sitting there in your British Lit class, next to a boy whose hair was baby pink and who smelled like the sweet that was commonly associated with pink. He was pretty too, with pale, sparkling skin and his lips were a shallow red. The clothes he wore were so nice, you could sell them and buy an upstate condo. And to top it all off, his notes were a curly, cursive pink.

The boy himself was odd—it was nearly the end of the semester, but in that time, you hadn’t seen him once. Now he sat here, a journal full of notes, impossible to miss, and he acted like he’d been here all along. You would’ve believed it if it wasn’t for the millions of confused stares being shot his direction.

Keeping your eyes off him was near impossible. He was something ethereal, with his white cashmere sweater and dark green pants. It was no help that his sleeve kept brushing against your bare arm. Apparently, your body had decided it didn’t have to be skin on skin contact in order to get you excited.

“Hey.”

You jumped as a soft voice broke your intense staring match with your paper.

“Do you have any extra paper?” Cotton Candy Boy whispered, leaning closer to you. His breath was minty and his teeth were as white as his sweater. You nodded, keeping your mouth shut as you handed him a piece of paper. Your fingers brushed as he took it from you and you practically jumped when they did.

He glanced at you, brown eyes hazy under the dim lights. The boy smiled, small and jittery and your heart skipped. Then he set down the paper, quickly scratching something onto it. You watched, entranced by how perfectly aligned his writing was.

Do people actually take this class seriously?

Your eyes wandered over the question, before you slowly brought your own pencil to the paper.

Depends on what their major is.

He took back the paper, peacefully reading it over before the same, tiny smile appeared. His eyes darted up to where the professor paced, ranting about some pointless metaphor in ‘Transcendental Magic’. A piece of hair fell over his eyes and he carelessly blew it out of his face.

Do YOU take this class seriously?

You almost didn’t read the actual writing as you just admired his penmanship. You bit your lip, shrugging as you wrote your answer back. Sparks were racing along your skin and there was a stampede in your nervous system. It felt like you were back in middle school, exchanging notes with the local cutie.

I’m an engineering major… I don’t really see a need to.

A flicker raced through his eyes.

Business major. What year are you?

Year 3, you?

You twirled the pencil in your hand, unconsciously looking to the clock. Ten minutes left. The boy shifted beside you, his pen hovering about the page. Staring at that page, all you could see was two completely different worlds. His handwriting was clean and a pretty pink. Yours was messy all-caps,, something you’d developed during your drafting class in year 1. He was a business major and from the looks of him, he would be in the elite world. Engineering was your best option; an okay pay and numbers were your strong point.

As your professor bid you all goodbye, muttering something about homework, you slowly packed up. Any other day, you wouldn’t both with packing, but as Cotton Candy Boy precisely placed all his supplies and slung his messenger bag (some fancy white, leather bag no less), you had the urge to stay and stare at him a little bit. For all you knew, he wouldn’t be at anymore classes and you wanted to take the time to memorize his features.

You walked a step behind him, waving the teacher goodbye as she watched the pair of you behind her glasses. He had the paper of your conversation in his hands, the white gleaming in the spring sun. You cautiously stepped into stride with him, curious if he was going to tell you to leave or if he would question why you were acting all buddy-buddy.

He didn’t.

“Do you have a class after this?” He queried out of the blue, folding the paper neatly and tucking it into his back pocket. The action had your face heating.

“I only have one class on Tuesdays,” you replied, coming to a stop. He nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a silver tube. It took you a second to realize why he smelled like cotton candy. He clicked a pod into the Juul, staring at the pen for a moment before bringing it to his mouth and slowly inhaling.

As the cloud rolled from his mouth, a wave of cotton candy hit you. The smell was strong and you unconsciously breathed in, letting in settle in your lungs. He glanced over at you, perplexing, the pen carefully balanced between his index and middle finger. His eyes didn’t leave yours as another puff swirled from his mouth.

“I didn’t catch your name,” he hummed, lowering his hand.

“I didn’t throw it,” you murmured, pulling your hands from your pockets, “but I’m Y/N.”

You reached your hand out and he grasped it, not shaking it, just holding it precariously, and leering at you. Then he tugged, hard and soft all at the same time, pulling you unnecessarily close to him. His lips quivered as he held back a smirk.

“Lee Taeyong,” he purred, his breath fanning along your face as he did. He smelled purely of sugar this close and you kept inhaling it, the scent imprinting on your brain. Your brain that was currently malfunctioning. He let go of your hand, pulling back.

“See you next Tuesday, Y/N,” he said and then walked away.

You stood there on the sidewalk, the sun beating down on you and a wind running through your hair. His back was straight, his walk confident, and the smell—you dubbed it his smell—still lingered in the spring air. You bit your lip, bringing your hand to your chest, thing about how soft his hands had felt against yours; how delicately he’d held them.

“Lee Taeyong,” you whispered, watching him disappear around the corner.

April 24th

A whole week passed without seeing the boy. You asked around, wondering if anyone knew the mysterious, pink-haired boy. It seemed that nobody knew him and most of the time you just got a blank stare in reply. As Tuesday rolled around, your heart was racing as you stepped into your British Lit class.

You sat down in the same spot as usual, trying to pretend like you were arranging your notes and pencils, while in all honesty, you were keeping your eye on the door. What if he didn’t show up today? What if as fast as he stepped into your life, he stepped out? Class was about to start any second and he was nowhere to be seen.

You exhaled.

“He’s not coming, is he?” You muttered under your breath, grabbing your pencil and setting up your notes. It didn’t matter of course, you just met him, you shouldn’t be infatuated.

But those lies were see-through. Class started and you tried to focus on first, but your mind wandered to Lee Taeyong. He said he’s see you next Tuesday, but maybe that was something he couldn’t commit to. Last week was the first time he ever showed up, who said he’d ever come again? It’s not like he owed it to you. The two of you were technically nobodies to one another.

Fifteen minutes into the lecture, the door screeched open. Silence swept through the class as your professor stopped her talk, looking unimpressed as the person slowly slid into the room. Pink hair stood out against a black hoodie, his skin glowing under the lights. He didn’t even apologize as he sauntered up the stairs, sliding into the seat next to you. A smirk played on your lips at the confused stares that burned into the pair of you.

The class resumed, people forcing themselves to lose interest in the mystery beside you. The two of you were hushed, the only side vibrating between you being your unsteady breathing and the sound of your pencil scratching notes onto the paper. You could feel his stare burning into you and every time you glanced at him, his cheek was rested in his palm, a knowing smile on his face.

“Is your favorite thing to stare?” You murmured, leaning closer to him and slowing down on your notes. He still smelled like cotton candy, but it wasn’t as strong as it was last week. Taeyong shrugged, a small, white smile showing.

“I need a friend,” he replied simply, dropping his elbow off the table. His fingers danced along the outside of your thigh.

Something about that statement should’ve struck you wrong, but it didn’t. Instead, it sent butterflies and fireflies racing through your nervous system. You smiled back at him, tucking your hair behind your ear and going back taking notes. Well, you tried to take notes. Your focus, which had already been small throughout class, dwindled even more with his fingers still there.

You stopped trying to take notes, instead you set your pencil down and rested your chin in your hand. Your gaze roved over the boy beside you, the black hoodie imprinted with an expensive brand. His jeans were a bright white and ripped, showing off the fishnet leggings he wore underneath.

“Hey,” Taeyong whispered, the drumming on your thigh becoming harder, “I’m thinking of going to Yuldong Park tonight, if you want to tag along.”

You bit your lip.

“Can you give me a ride?” You asked, turning to him. He nodded and then reached for your notes and pencil, writing something down. You peeked over, watching as a number was written down. “Text me your address.”

You took the paper back, trying to hold back the wide grin that begged to take over. Your heart was racing and something that went past joy was swirling in your stomach. Your professor started to announce the homework, but you weren’t interested as you already started to pack up.

“Don’t get all dressed up,” he said, shielding his eyes from the sun as you stepped outside. “We’ll be going down to the lake and I don’t want you to ruin your favorite pair of jeans or skirt or whatever.”

He winked at you.

You rolled your eyes.

“Yes sir,” you remarked, a bubble of giggles following afterwards. You didn’t notice the nervous shiver that ran through him as he waved goodbye. “See you!”

He smiled over his shoulder as he sashayed away.

“Remember to text me!”

You walked back to your apartment, a wide smile on your face the whole time. It was impossible for you to explain what this boy did to you. You didn’t even know yourself. He was already in your nervous system, he was already your secret toxication. You barely knew him, but you were so drawn and it was nearly impossible to pull away.

You spent most of the day doing homework for your drafting class and trying to find an internship. Taeyong didn’t give any hint to what time he was picking you up, which was exciting and nerve-wracking in its own way. You figured a safe time to start getting ready was after dinner. You listened to what Cotton Candy Boy said, throwing on some basic clothes, but you figured doing your makeup and hair wouldn’t hurt.

The night passed with no word from Taeyong. The butterflies in your stomach started to die and instead turned into a nervous turmoil. You sat on the couch, playing with the loose strings on your jeans, teeth working on your lips. What if he wasn’t coming? What if—

There was a short, curt knock at the door.

Your heart started pounding again as you skipped towards the door and slowly opened it. He stood on the other side, a smirk on his face. He was dressed in the same outfit as earlier, although the sleeves of the hoodie was now rolled up and he smelled of sweets for sure. Your eyes landed on what he held in his hands, mouth dropping open.

“You didn’t bring me flowers,” you said in disbelief, opening the door all the way. He shrugged, handing you the bouquet of pink roses.

“It’s a date, isn’t it? I oughta be a gentleman,” he disclosed, leaning against your doorway. You blushed, twirling them in your hands.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, moving into the kitchen to find a vase. Your roommate peeked out of her room, watching with a confused expression as you set them in a vase. Her gaze wandered to the door and then she grinned at you, sending you a thumbs up.

Warmth was racing through you as the two of you made your way downstairs and into the parking lot. You didn’t quite know what to expect, but you weren’t exactly surprised when the two of you stopped in front of a white with pink-lining Rolls-Royce. You glanced at him, crossing your arms.

“I thought you said to not dress up,” you teased, walking around the car to the passenger’s side. He shrugged as he slid into the car and you followed along, staring at the interior with wide eyes.

“This isn’t too flashy, is it?” He asked, looking around. “I could’ve driven my Valkyrie, but I didn’t.”

You went silent at that statement. Who exactly was this boy? He showed up to two classes near the end of the semester, obviously swimming in money, and working for a business degree. Who were his parents? Or was it even his parents? What if it was just him? “Hey,” he said, his voice going soft, “let’s not worry about my money, okay? We’re out to have fun.”

You nodded, a smile pulling at your lips again. The ride was comfortably quiet as you coasted along. It had been a while since you’d been to Yuldong Park, but as you pulled into the parking lot, you remembered why you used to love it. White blossom trees swayed in the wind and birches were spread around a clear lake, their image wavering in the water.

You got out, following the boy down a path that led to the far side of the lake. You watched Taeyong’s hair blow in the wind and you looked away, ducking your head. The smell of cotton candy wasn’t as strong as usual and you found yourself missing the sweet smell. You slid down the trail behind him, stepping into the sand. He sat down, patting the spot beside him.

“I used to come here all the time as a kid,” he whispered, hands tucked into his pockets. You nodded, thinking of the many memories you made here when you were young.

“Some of my best memories were made here,” you murmured, glancing at him. He looked over at you, pink lips turning up. His eyes looked gorgeous as the few rays of sunshine touched them. Taeyong chuckled, pulling a hand out of his pocket and wrapping his arm around your waist. You blushed, pulling your knees to your chest as you leaned into him.

He looked out at the water, staring at the pink and orange that danced along the dark surface.

His other hand sifted through the sand.

“Me too…” he sighed, looking back at you.

“I hope to make more here.”