Travel Forum - Traveler Mania

    Spy agencies scouring nighttime satellite images of Pyongyang for clues about possible conflict could be forgiven for mistaking Kaeson Park for something dangerous.
    When sun sets, most of the power-starved North Korean capital is plunged into darkness. The structures of Kaeson, however, are lit up like Times Square.
    So, is the country's Stalinist regime -- known to possess frightening missiles and an unchecked nuclear program -- up to something strategically important?
    Closer inspection reveals a more surprising truth: Kaeson is North Korea's answer to Disneyland. It is one of three huge amusement parks serving Pyongyang, offering its subjugated citizens a rare dose of state-sanctioned fun.

Bizarrely normal

Just weeks before the North launched a November 23, 2010, saber-rattling attack on South Korea, theme park aficionado Stefan Zwanzger managed to ride the only rollercoasters in North Korea that aren't metaphors for the country's violent diplomatic mood swings.
 But rather than witnessing the surreal bleak conformity and military posturing you expect from this country on constant brink of war, he saw something that for North Korea is even more bizarre: normality.
 "When you see North Koreans walking on the streets of Pyongyang, it's a bit of a robot-like experience," says Zwanzger, a German citizen who visits theme parks around the world.
 "I wouldn't call it military style, but somehow they walk differently to people in other countries.
 "But if you see North Koreans in the funfair, they have exactly the same habits, the same patterns as Americans in their amusement parks."
 Zwanzger visited Pyongyang in October as part of an organized tour that -- in addition to an endless parade of statues and museums honoring the dictatorial dynasty of Kim Jong Il and Kim Il Sung –- took in Kaeson and the city's more elderly theme parks: Mangyongdae and Kaesongsan.
 Like many outsiders visiting a country that the United Nations says is barely able to sustain its closely controlled population, he says much of what he saw was "depressing."

 Meet the locals

There are ancient spinning rides designed to look like rockets or aircraft painted in the colors of national flag carrier Air Koryo.
 A water park replete with spiraling chutes lies waterless and unused.
 A log flume ride, offering gloomy views of cracked concrete, is similarly dry.
 "I've been to an amusement fair next to Chernobyl in the town of Pripyat that never opened because of the nuclear power plant accident in 1986," says Zwanzger. "It is unfortunate, but these fun fairs have similarities."
 Zwanzger was shadowed throughout by an official North Korean "guide," a mandatory companion for all foreigners.
 "Even if you wanted to ride the coaster 10 times, he would probably join you every time," he says.
 While these guides usually make locals wary of talking to visitors, different rules applied at the amusement parks, he says.
 "If you visit North Korea, there's no other occasion that you can get so close to locals as in the amusement parks.
 "If you go to museums, you're basically alone, then you're taken to see statues and war memorials and back to your hotel, which you cannot leave on your own.
 "All day long you're with tourists so you never really have the potential to exchange a smile with a local or even start a chat if you speak Korean --but that is possible in an amusement park."
 But while the locals were content to be thrilled by the ups and downs of the rollercoasters, for Zwanzger, who runs thethemeparkguy.com, the biggest ride was on offer outside of the parks.
 “North Korea is a time machine, a journey back to another era.”