A Hyundai executive half jokingly told me that his company's excursions are called 'Don't do it! Tours'.
He's not wrong. Cell phones, laptops, telephoto lenses and powerful binoculars are strictly verboten. Everyone must wear large photo ID tags at all times. Once inside the demilitarised zone, and in the North, photos are forbidden. You're not to point to a North Korean and, in the unlikely event you become engaged in conversation, you're to avoid any political statements, or mention the Dear Leader's need to buy better hair-care products.
On a recent crisp autumn morning, I joined a large group of South Koreans on the southern side of the DMZ. With a final inspection of our photo IDs, we boarded 15 brand-new Hyundai buses. Driving slowly in convoy, we trundled past gigantic four-metre-high barbed wire fences, over bridges with massive concrete tank traps (each mined with explosives) and, finally, past smiling South Korean soldiers inside sandbagged guard posts.
Transiting the DMZ's four kilometre-wide wilderness, where no man has set foot for half a century because of the minefields, only takes a few minutes. Once in the North we disembark for a second ID check, this time by North Korean soldiers. One of my cameras was confiscated until my return trip because it had a partial telephoto lens.
Once back on the bus, two stern North Korean soldiers boarded briefly. Lean as whippets, their faces baked by the sun, they walked from back to front, counting heads. They looked 16 but were probably 20. By law, every man must spend 10 years in military service. Women spend seven.
Continuing north on a newly constructed road lined with two metre-high wire fences, the dry, rugged terrain evoked the landscape of old cowboy films. Armed soldiers stood at rigid attention every 100 metres for 15km, every one holding a red flag. Should you decide to sneak your camera up to the window, a flag would fly up, and presumably the bus would be halted.
The new Hotel Gumgang-san was airily attractive, with cosy rooms and boasting a swanky lounge, complete with a band from Cebu. Three buffet-style meals were served here daily. While the meats were unmentionable, the vegetables were amazing - intensely coloured, superbly fresh and bursting with flavour. The reason is simple: they can't afford modern chemical fertilisers. Everything's organic.