Tuesday, 10 September 2013

On the Border Between the Two Koreas: North Korea Part 4

King Kongmin's Tomb, The Demilitarized Zone, Kaesong and Sariwon

Pyongyang to Kaesong

Getting out of the Yanggakdo Hotel

People's Democratic Republic of Korea

I was excited at the prospect of seeing some of the country beyond Pyongyang, but first we had to leave the hotel.

Returning to our room after breakfast we picked up our cases and headed for the lifts. The hotel had a bank of eight lifts but at any one time three would be out of order and at peak times the rest would be overloaded. A man with an armband stopped overcrowding on the way up, but there was no such person on the higher floors and Chinese tour groups have a cavalier one in, all in approach to elevators. The lifts bounced alarmingly when they halted and sometimes inserted worrying little extra stops between floors.

The Yanggakdo Hotel, Pyongyang, 47 storeys of scary lifts

Being on the 8th floor we found all the descending lifts packed. Eventually we stopped an ascending lift, rose all the way to the 47th floor and came down again. It was crammed and groaning audibly by the time we reached the ground and we were very glad to disembark. Getting downstairs had taken twenty minutes. L hates being late and it was, of course, my fault because I had dismissed the idea of allowing half an hour for what should have been a 30sec journey. I was happy to point out, when eventually we joined the group, that we were not the last to arrive.

The Unification Highway


North Korea with Pyongyang, Sariwon and Kaesong with Panmunjon ringed

By contrast leaving Pyongyang was quick and easy. Swiftly crossing the traffic free city, we were bowling down the four-lane Unification Highway shortly after 8 o’clock. It was slightly less busy than the M6. In two hours we saw several busloads of tourists, but counting cars required the fingers of only one hand.

Heavy traffic on the Unification Highway south of Pyongyang

We glimpsed towns and villages across fields full of rice, maize and, occasionally, grazing cattle. The few people we saw were either cycling or walking at a steady pace. North Koreans do this a lot, but we rarely spotted anyone actually working.

A town hides behind the trees and maize, Unification Highway South of Pyongyan

We paused at a service station for a break. Tea, coffee and souvenirs stalls – obviously there for our benefit as they accepted only euros - were set up in the car park rather than the buildings.

Beside the highway, near Kaesong

The Tomb of King Kongmin

Reaching the Kaesong area, we left the highway and for twenty minutes followed an un-tarmacked but well made road winding gently through low hills. Our bus struggled painfully with the relatively mild gradients.

The road to King Kongmin's tomb

Our destination was the tomb of King Kongmin (1330-1374) the 31st ruler of the Koryo dynasty. A rising path led to two grassy domes under which lie the remains of the king and his Mongolian queen.

The path up to King Kongmin's tomb

Guarded by two Confucian sages and two warriors on each side ......

Confucian sages and warriors, King Kongmin's tomb, Kaesong

...the graves lie behind large stone altars.....

Large stone altar, King Kongmin's tomb, Kaesong

flanked by statues of tigers for strength and sheep for generosity (not the first sheepy attribute that comes to mind).

Tigers for strength? Was someone having a laugh?
King Kongmin's tomb, Kaesong

The best preserved of the Koryo tombs, it was intact until (the North Koreans say) the Japanese dynamited the entrance in 1905 and looted the contents, which they took to Japan and subsequently lost. Only Kongmin’s coffin remains; we saw it later in Kaesong’s Koryo museum.

The mountain opposite is known as ‘Oh My’ mountain. The story goes that King Kongmin was having difficulty finding a location for his tomb that combined good feng shui with the sort of view he was prepared to spend eternity studying. Fed up with the failure of his geomancers (in one version he had them all killed) he struck a death or riches deal with a young hopeful who recommended the very spot where the king now lies. Kongmin climbed the mountain opposite to get a good view, telling his soldiers that if he was dissatisfied he would wave a white cloth and they should lop off the young man’s head. He reached the top and liked what he saw, but it had been a stiff climb and he took out a cloth to wipe the sweat from his brow. Misinterpreting the signal, the soldiers carried out their orders. When the king returned ready to bestow riches on the young man he found him a headless corpse. ‘Oh My!’ he said and the name stuck.

'Oh My' Mountain from King Kongmin's tomb, Kaesong

Whether the force of his reaction loses something in translation or whether life was cheap in medieval Korea (as it often still is in the modern DPRK) I can only speculate.

The Demilitarized Zone and the Border

We drove down the mountain and followed a tarmac road to the Demilitarised Zone on a route that afforded some glimpses of ordinary Korean life.

Ordinary life in the DPRK? Kaesong

After a more normal tourist activity arriving at the DMZ jolted us back into the alternative reality of the DPRK. The poster apparently says ‘One Korea’ not ‘Up Yours’.

One Korea (apparently)

Leaving the bus, which was taken away to be searched (I have no idea what they expected to find) we joined several other busloads in the gift shop which sold exactly the same items as everywhere else. We bought a Panmunjom tee-shirt for our grandson - Koreans are small people and none came near fitting me. [update: it looked fine but the seams unravelled the first time it was washed.]

Eventually we were called through into the next room where a North Korean officer briefed us on the geography of the site before sending us outside to walk in single file back to our buses. The roadway was in a trench of sorts and as we passed a gap in the wall it seemed natural to suggest we dash across at irregular intervals in case of snipers. We didn’t, and there weren’t any, but the DPRK plants strange ideas in your head.

Briefing from a DPRK officer, Kaesong

It was a very short ride to the room where the armistice was negotiated and an assortment of people from several tour groups arranged themselves around the very table used during the talks.

The table used for the armistice negotiations, Panmunjom

We then moved across to the room where the armistice was signed – it was only an armistice, there has not yet been a peace treaty and the war is still active (very much so in the North Korean mind). We saw the table where the Koreans signed, with their flag and their copy…

Where the North Korean signed the armistice, Panmunjom

…and the table where the Americans signed. The cowardly Americans, having been soundly defeated for the first time in their history, did not even have the courage to bring their own flag but hid behind the banner of the United Nations. That is what they told us, but it was, technically a UN not an American operation - and who (if anybody) won is another matter. Around the room a display of pictures expounded North Korea’s somewhat idiosyncratic narrative of the war (see the war museum for details).

Where the Americans signed the armistice, Panmunjom

The Border Between the Two Koreas

They would have liked to have lined us up in fours and marched us to the border, but the randomly assembled group of tourists was having none of it. As we walked a Korean guide a little behind me said, ‘Of course we should be changing the peace talks into victory talks very soon,’ to which a quiet English voice replied ‘To which side?’ The reply was a slightly baffled but very firm ‘To us.’ North Koreans don’t do irony

We paused to examine a monumental signature of Kim Il Sung and listen to a lengthy lecture about the stone’s dimensions, all of which have some sort of significance (it is 7.7 metres long Kim as visited on the 7th of July etc). ‘Who cares?’ was my response; mathematicians love numerology like astronomers revel in the complexities of astrology.

Monumental signature of Kim Il Sung, Panmunjom

We looked down on the border from the balcony of a building specially constructed for the purpose. Five huts, the blue belonging to the north, the grey to the south (or perhaps the other way round?) straddle the concrete threshold that marks the great divide. Beyond is South Korea but, disappointingly, there was no one there to wave to. The North Korean soldiers on guard are unarmed (this is a demilitarised zone) and Wikipedia tells me the South Korean guards (and we saw none) wear sunglasses so as not to provoke their DPRK counterparts by making eye contact. I found it a strangely exciting and deeply weird place to be.

The border runs through the middle of the huts (the grey ones are just out of shot), Panmunjom

Nothing remains of the old village of Panmunjom, but the building where the currently suspended peace talks take place is now referred to as Panmunjom.

Lunch in the DMZ

Returning to our bus, we drove a short distance to a restaurant inside the DMZ where we were to have lunch. The food in North Korea had not so far been memorable, but this was by far the best meal we were to have.


Restaurant in the DMZ

Chicken soup with noodles was a modest start but then we turned out attention to the brass bowls laid out before us. They contained mushrooms, a vegetable referred to as ‘mountain herbs’, bellflower root (a new one to us and very good) with chilli, cucumbers, beansprouts, fish and rice balls in a sweet sauce, beef and a fried egg. There were also extras we had ordered the day before, €30 for a ginseng chicken for as many as chose to chip in or €5 for a portion of ‘sweet meat’. Suspecting (correctly as it turned out) that ‘ginseng chicken’ would be an expensive way of eating ordinary chicken, we were among the minority opting for the rich spicy stew containing strips of what the Koreans coyly call ‘sweet meat’ which is actually dog. I must confess this was not the first time we had eaten dog – that was in a Korean restaurant in China in 2004. After that we said ‘never again’ but it was the local speciality and Kaesong cuisine is said to be the finest in Korea. There is, once you move beyond the psychological hang-up, nothing very special about the meat, nor was there a lot of it, but it was in an excellent sauce. The meal was accompanied by rice wine drunk from a small brass receptacle that was regularly refilled.

'Sweet meat' and other goodies, Panmunjom

Kaesong

The Koryo Museum

Well fed, we took a short trip back into Kaesong to Seonggyungwan, founded in 992 as a Confucian educational institution and now the Koryo Museum. It was burned down by the Japanese in the 1590s so the oldest buildings we saw are sixteenth century. It is considered Kaesong’s first university and outside we were able to watch students from the current Kaesong University cycling past.


Kaesong University students

Some old buildings have interesting painted beams….

Painted beams, Koryo Museum, Kaesong

…and there is a mock-up of the tomb of King Kongmin - though I am not sure if we saw the promised coffin - but overall it is rather short on artefacts from the Koryo period (918 – 1392).

Mock-up of King Kongmin's tomb, Koryo Museum, Kaesong

Kaesong is also the home of the Kaesong Industrial Region – recently reopened after a Kim Jung Un inspired spat – where North Koreans work in South Korean owned factories. There was no chance they would let us near that and instead we went to Sun Hill.

Sun Hill, Kaesong

Sun Hill (‘Sun,’ as ever refers to Kim Il Sung) overlooks Kaesong’s main street. I am not sure why we went there, did we really need to see another statue of Kim Il Sung or were the guides just killing time? (Sometimes I am ashamed at my own cynicism, what could be more uplifting than another heroic statue of the Eternal Leader?). None of us opted to walk up the steps to the statue and bow, but a truckload of soldiers arrived carrying floral tributes and did it for us.

Kim Il Sung on Sun Hill, Kaesong

The hill opposite is said to resemble a pregnant woman lying on her back and has inspired several folk tales. The outline is moderately convincing, but I wonder who thought it a good idea to plant a communications tower in her navel.

The main street of Kaesong from Sun Hill
with the pregnant woman and her communication mast in the mist beyond

Killing Time at Kaesong Folk Custom Hotel

Our next visit was to Kaesong Folk Custom Hotel, a hotel built like a traditional Korean village. It was newish, but empty and showing signs of becoming run down. We were not entirely sure what it was for or what we were doing there, but we were entirely at the mercy of the guides and by now it was becoming obvious that filling time was important to them. We started to edge out of the gate, take pictures of the streets outside and observe the ordinary citizens of Kaesong. The imminent danger of mingling soon persuaded them that it was time to move on.

Kaesong from the 'Folk Custom Hotel'

North to Sariwon

We drove back towards Pyongyang, re-joining the still empty Unification Highway and again pausing at the service station. Since the morning the stalls hade been dragged across the road to the car park on the other side. This time cold beer was an offer – though not to me, I arrived as the last was sold. Still, we were thirsty and €0.50 seemed a reasonable price for a warmish beer, which we shared.

Is this woman setting a good example?

Emboldened by drink I persuaded Lynne to pose in the middle of the road beneath the service station bridge, just like you don’t at Newport Pagnell.

Under the service station bridge, Unification Highway

Sariwon and the 6th of May Hotel

A little further north we turned off and entered the city of Sariwon. The tower blocks were more rundown than in Pyongyang, yet it still had the same wide, empty streets. The few people we saw walked at a steady pace, or rode or pushed bicycles. I was surprised by how many people we had seen pushing their bikes, not just here but in Pyongyang, too. Soembody suggested that Perhaps Kim Il Sung had recommended the ten thousand paces a day regine and it was the only way for bike owners to make up the number. It was a joke, but in the DPRK you sometimes wonder. If there were any private cars on the streets would we see their owners pushing them?

Sariwon

We arrived at the March the 6th Hotel in Sariwan.

The foyer boasted a magnificent painting of Kim Il Sung receiving visitors of all nationalities and ethnicities. In another time and another place we might have seen Queen Victoria greeting representatives from the nations of the empire.

Kim Il Sung meetis thanked by the people of the world, May 6th Hotel Lobby, Sariwon, North Korea

Our room was on the 3rd floor. There was no lift so I lugged our suitcase up the stairs – which was better than waiting 20 minutes for one of the dangerously overcrowded lifts at the Yanggakdok.

The room was a good size, clean enough and with the softest beds we had met on the trip (including China). There was a thermos of hot water so we hauled a couple of seats onto the balcony and had a cup of tea. Other members of our group ventured onto their balcony to find it filled with empty beer bottles.

The bathroom was cunningly designed with a solid plastic shower screen placed so that the toilet could only be sat on sideways. There was no hot water, but after a group request was met with a surprised response (‘What do you want that for?’) we were promised it would be available for an hour in the morning. [They delivered on the promise, which was when I noticed that the drain had been placed on the opposite side of the room from the shower head, so the whole bathroom flooded. At the end of the hour the hot water went off – and so did the cold.]

We had better draw a veil over dinner, but the beer was excellent and only €0.60 for a 75ml bottle, so the quality of the food could betolerated.

Monday, 9 September 2013

Pyongyang (2), A Day for Waving: North Korea Part 3

The 65th Anniversary of the Founding of the DPRK

DPRK

Dawn broke on the 65th anniversary of the founding of the sadly misnamed  Democratic People's Republic of Korea with a blanket of mist hanging over Pyongyang. Our guides had apparently been unsure how the day would be celebrated, but from our hotel room we could see hundreds of army trucks parked along the riverside. Apparently there was to be a military parade – well, who would have guessed it?

Army trucks beside the Taedong River, Pyongyang

Mangyongdae, Birthplace of Kim Il Sung

After an adequate if unexciting breakfast we set off for the birthplace of Kim Il Sung - Eternal President of the DPRK - at Mangyongdae, a village just outside the city. The mist burned off during our short bus ride; the day, like every day we spent in Korea, would be warm and intermittently sunny.

Nearing Mangyongdae we passed a series of stadiums built, I thought we were told, for the Asian games, though they have never been held in North Korea; indeed I can find no record of any major international multi-sport event in Pyongyang. The North Koreans are good at building large ugly concrete structures, though not always so successful at finding something to do with them. These were being refurbished for a forthcoming event, though I am unsure what.

The Kim family home, Mangyongdae

The birthplace of Kim Il Sung is set in green parkland amid wooded hills. Kim’s father moved here to tend the graves of the rich, who liked to be buried in such pleasant surroundings. Kim Il Sung said that his family was not poor, but poverty was always only a step away and the modest house reflects that claim. Now standing alone and surrounded by mown lawns and clipped hedges, it has been so cleaned and polished into unreality that Mr Disney would deem it suitable accommodation for a precocious young lady and seven older, shorter men. There are a few photographs of the family and some artefacts and tools they may have used.

The Kim family kitchen, Mangyongdae

Kim Il Sung was born on the 15th of April 1912, the day the Titanic finally slipped below the icy waters of the Atlantic. Much of his youth is shrouded in mystery, but his official biography - more hagiography than factual record - says he left Mangyongdae in 1926 to fight the Japanese occupiers and returned in triumph to announce the founding of the DPRK in 1948. His departure is depicted near the exit to the park.

A young Kim Il Sung leaves home to begin his heroic struggle against the Japanese

The Monument to the Korean Worker's Party

We drove back into town, fighting our way through the tumultuous traffic. The 2008 census claims the city has over 3 million inhabitants. Where were they all?

The tumultuous traffic of Pyongyang

They were not, as you might think, attending the military parade. We had asked if we could see it and received the sort of ‘no’ normally reserved for those requesting a ride in the presidential limousine. We had not realised how few people get to see the action. There is a saluting platform for the uber-elite, while spectator accommodation consists of grandstands even a Stafford Rangers supporter would consider modest.

Korean Workers' Party Monument, Pyongyang

Venturing south of the river for the first time we stopped at the monument to the Korean Workers' Party, another of Pyongyang’s huge selection of monumental monstrosities. In addition to the usual hammer and sickle, the Koreans have a writing brush to indicate the solidarity of the intellectuals, and they have built them all 50m high.

If I had a hammer....
Korean Workers' Party Monument, Pyongyang

Inside the monument is a frieze of students, workers and military types attempting to outstare the future….

Nobly attempting to outstare the future
Korean Worker's Party Monument, Pyongyang

…while outside an empty park stretches down to the river. On the far side is Mansudae Hill where yesterday we bowed to the giant statues of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il. Enlarge this picture and it is just possible make out the two of them in front of the white building in the far distance.

Empty park by the Korean Workers' Party Monument, Pyongyang

Watching the 65th Anniversary Celebrations

We were led into a set of official looking buildings behind the monument – though the lack of signs means most buildings in Pyongyang look like municipal offices. In a hall on the first floor was a television and some chairs. We could not see the parade which was happening hardly a mile away, but we could watch it on TV, and later, if we behaved ourselves, we could watch the secondary parade (i.e. the soldiers going home afterwards).

Goose-stepping across city squares to celebrate national days has gone out of fashion in Europe (I wonder why?), but remains big in the DPRK. Perfectly drilled soldiers marched past Kim Jong Un (known as The Marshall) and sometimes he saluted, sometimes waved and sometimes referred to the general behind to find out which to do.

Giant effigies of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il mounted on floats
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

Korean newsreader Ri Chun Hee achieved some notoriety after her sobbing announcement of the death of Kim Jong Il (see it on YouTubehere) and her gleeful revelation of North Korea’s nuclear test. She retired in January 2012, promising to pass on her skills to the next generation. She has been remarkably successful; the rich throb of a semi-hysterical contralto accompanied every movement as the soldiers marched and countermarched while floats bearing giant effigies of Kim Jung Un’s dad and granddad moved, as if by magic, among them.

The Marshall, Kim Jong Un waves to his adoring people
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

There is, no doubt, a homoerotic component to military displays, and watching massed ranks of women soldiers in knee length khaki skirts goose-stepping in unison will have its devotees, but I am not one of them. I disliked the whole thing; I hate seeing human beings reduced to the status of cogs in a machine.

The marching cogs make pictures with cards
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

By 11.30 the parade was beginning to wind down and it was deemed an appropriate time for lunch.

A Hotpot Lunch

We ate at a hotpot restaurant. Korean hotpot differs from the Chinese version - for photos see Shanghai or Chengdu - in that each diner has an individual pot (of water rather than stock) and a spirit stove. When the water boils you tip in your pork then, after an appropriate pause, some noodles, cabbage, potatoes, chilli and tofu. Finally, a beaten egg binds everything into a tasty mass. Salt, pepper, MSG and chilli powder are available on the table. It was very enjoyable, though next (?!) time I would salt the water at the start.

Boiling up a hotpot, Pyongyang

We had time for a brief shopping stop before the parade. The small shop sold cigarettes, sake, ginseng products, and luridly coloured crafts. We bought some pottery (compulsory for citizens of North Staffordshire), and L acquired her usual fridge magnet (because we really need another one). A bar downstairs attracted the less dedicated shoppers who suggested popping down for a beer. This was a scary moment for the guides. ‘No,’ was the immediate answer followed, after a moment’s thought, by ‘It’s too crowded,’ and ‘We haven’t got time.’ Cynics suggested the real reason was that we could not possibly be allowed to mingle unsupervised with unvetted locals (and anyway the bar would only accepted Korean Won – which, as foreigners, we did not have). Could our guides have been economical with the truth? There were two views, which North Koreans find unsettling - they are used to being told the correct view in all situations - but not being North Koreans, we happily weighed up both sides and reached our own conclusions.

Waving at the Soldiers

A short bus ride - made longer by the large number of closed roads - brought us to a convenient point to see the parade. The roadside was lined with people as far as the eye could see, but only one or two deep so we had no difficulty finding a vantage point.

The crowd begins to gather
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

>We did not have to wait long before the arrival of a couple of stretch limos. One had a North Korean flag on top, the other a portrait of Kim Jong Un. Was The Marshall really inside? Probably not, but the tinted windows kept us guessing.

Kim Il Sung on top of this one, somebody important inside (presumably)
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

A loud speaker van passed next. The booming, heartfelt commentary could have been Ri Chun Hee herself. We peered through the windows to see if we could recognise the woman inside

Commentator's minibus, DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

Then came the soldiers, truckloads of them. The people waved their flowers and the soldiers waved back. There were special waves for us, some of the soldiers shouting ‘Hello’, ‘Welcome to Korea’ or ‘Spasibo’, as though we were a friendly delegation from the Soviet Union. We smiled and waved vigorously.

Bandsmen wave their instruments
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

The bandsmen carried their instruments, percussionists often standing and banging cymbals. Faces were cheerful and smiles were broad, except for one of the tuba players – and if I had been lumbered with that outsized brass chamber pot, I would look miserable, too. There were more commentators mixed in with the soldiery - North Koreans never have to survive long without being told what to think.

L rests from her waving
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

Other soldiers sat with fixed bayonets – there would have been carnage had the driver braked sharply - or with rocket-propelled grenades on the ends of their rifles. Despite the fearsome armaments the atmosphere was non-threatening, the smiles and waves warm and genuine. It was like something from an old newsreel – and, as L observed, good practice if we are ever invaded.

Fixed bayonets and cheery smiles
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

40 minutes after the stretch limos had appeared, the last truck passed and the crowd began to disperse.

The crowd begins to disperse
DPRK 65th anniversary celebrations, Pyongyang

Picnics and Dancing in Moranbong Park

We moved on to Moranbong Park (not to be confusedwith the Moranbong Music Band) to ‘mingle’ with the picnicking crowd.

Moranbong Park, Pyongyang

The park occupies a wooded hill between the Taedong River and Triumphant Return Square and a concrete path threads its way up through the trees. Family picnics had been laid out to right and left and everybody was enjoying the holiday.

Picnic in the park
Moranbong Park, Pyongyang

Near the top of the hill there was music and people dancing on the path. The guides encouraged us to join in, though some needed no encouragement. There was indeed much happy mingling and goodwill shown on both sides, though smiling was the only communication that was possible. Our most extrovert personality soon found the rest of the crowd had stopped dancing and gathering round to watch him. Eventually we moved on with much waving and cheery ‘goodbyes’.

Dancing in the park
Moranbong Park, Pyongyang

Descending the other side of the hill we saw smaller groups of dancers each with their own music. Many of the women wore national costume but everybody, regardless of how they dressed, sported a pin with either a national flag or the faces of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jung Il.

National costume in Moranbong Park
Pyongyang

Undoubtedly, everybody was genuinely enjoying the simple pleasures of a picnic in the park, in a relaxed and cheerful holiday atmosphere. What we could not know was who these people were. They were not, I am sure, members of the elite, but were they ordinary workers, or a favoured selection of the middle classes or the party faithful? We may never know.

Picnic in the Park, Moranbong Park
Pyongyang

Triumphant Retrun Square and the Arch of Triumph

We left the park beside Kim Il Sung stadium where soldiers were gathering to watch an exhibition football match. At the front of the stadium is Triumphant Return Square with the Arch of Triumph at its centre.

Arriving in Triumphant Return Square, Pyongyang

The square is named for the Triumphant Return of Kim Il Sung after almost single-handedly driving the Japanese from North Korea. Japan had been the colonial power since 1800 and their absence post 1945 was much appreciated, but DPRK history avoids mentioning the global conflict and ignores contribution made by other combatants, including the Chinese, British and even the hated Americans (now hated slightly more than even the Japanese).

'Walk around and take photos,’ we were told as we reached the square. We had not gone far before an angry looking man strode towards us, shouting and waving his arms. We must not stroll idly around, we must go immediately to the local guide. I am a pacifist, but I could happily have given him a broken nose.

Through the Arch of Triumph, Pyongyang

The local guide was, of course, dressed in traditional costume. She told us that although the arch is (very obviously) based on the French original, it is 10m higher. Now why did that not surprise us? It was erected to commemorate the 70th birthday of Kim Il-Sung in 1982 and consists of just over 25500 blocks of dressed sandstone – one for each day of his 70 years. Koreans love this sort of numerical symbolism.

Information received (though not all necessarily retained), we were allowed to wander. I walked down the middle of the road to get some distance for this photograph; safe enough in Pyongyang, but not recommended in the Champs-Elysées.

Arch of Triumph, Pyongyang

Dinner and some News about Kim Il Sung

Back at the hotel we turned on the television to watch the news scroll across the BBC World Service. Seeing the face of Kim Jung Un we turned up the blurry sound and managed to decipher the words. Dennis Rodman – a retired American basketball player of some repute on court and some notoriety off it – had paid a return visit to The Marshall after striking up a rapport during an earlier stay. The Marshall was, he reported, a ‘regular guy’ and said that he had played with his baby daughter. There had been rumours last year that Mrs Kim had been pregnant, and this was the first confirmation. We now knew something the North Koreans did not.

The group dined in the revolving restaurant atop the Yanggakdo Hotel. The view was good, there was much discussion of our direction of revolution (with a counter-intuitive answer) but the food was best forgotten. We talked of the Dennis Rodman story and deciding on balance to say nothing to the guides. We later heard that one group had told a guide. The result was not surprise or excitement, just a cool ‘They will tell us when the time is right.’ Exactly like the birth of young George Windsor, then. Not.

Outside the Rungnado May Day Stadium, Pyongyang

The Rungdao May Day Stadium and the Arirang Mass Games

In the evening we made our way to the Rungnado May Day Stadium. The Arirang Mass Games are not ‘games’ in any sense I understand the word. The show takes place in an indoor stadium seating 60 thousand. 20 thousand middle school children occupied one side with coloured cards which they use to produce a huge variety of shapes and pictures. The two ends of the stadium were empty and ‘our’ side was half full so with several thousand performers on the field the participants easily outnumbered the spectators. The kids with the cards were faultless throughout. They train half days for three months, then full time for another three months. Might they, I wondered, be better off at school?

The kids with the cards deliver a message
Arirang Mass Games, Pyongyang

The music, martial in tone and always fortissimo, seemed, like much North Korean music, to be a pastiche of its western counterpart. Often it drifted towards well known tunes, The Carnival is Over, Calon Lan, Make me a Channel of your Peace, but never quite made it.

The theme was the usual bombastic retelling of the defeat of the Japanese, the glory of Kim Il-Sung, the defeat of the Americans, sorrow at the death of Kim Il Sung - or was that Kim Jong Il? - as always with dance, narrative came a distant second to dancing. The section where happy boys and girls skipped about joyfully while film of the North Korean nuclear test was projected onto white cards was, I thought, sick.

The sun - and yellow generally - is always symbolic of Kim Il Sung
Arirang Mass games, Pyongyang

The costumes, the huge numbers involved and the intricate patterns they made entertained many people, but with me they hit something of a blind spot. I disliked the music and have no interest in dancing so I found it a long sit. There was an acrobatics interlude with people blown out of cannons and trapeze artists swinging on wires – all very clever, but to what point? From 20 minutes in I was looking at my watch wondering when it would end. And when the end came it left the same nasty taste as the morning’s military parade. Lynne enjoyed it, though, and other members of our group came out saying it was the best 100 Euros they had ever spent so perhaps I am out of step; in L’s words, I am ‘a grumpy git’. Sorry.