The experience of crossing the border into North Korea was frustrating, fascinating and tense.

At the time I went in April 2006 there was only one possible way for civilians to cross the border from South Korea, that was to buy a tour package to Geumgansan, to do an historic pilgrimage to the mountain. The package tour is tightly organised and supervised at all times, there is no possibility to leave the tour group, at all, or to deviate from the timetable. I went with a group of international artists during the 11th Nine Dragons. Two days earlier we staged an exhibition inside the Demilitarised Zone.

It was a 5am start stumbling in the dark from the hotel to where the bus was parked, everyone was just a little on edge and subdued. The process of clearing customs involved more checks than usual, even before leaving the South. I guess this is hardly surprising.

It was in the news that a family had walked out from the north across the Demilitarised zone the day before. As we travelled on our bus in the reverse direction I couldn't help thinking about them. The landscape was very rocky and steep, it seemed inconceivable to walk in the dark with children across such territory, even without the mined areas and fortifications.

The convoy of buses stopped and we all dismounted into lines to pass through DPRK border passport control.

It was blustery and cold, which added to the tension. We lined up in the exact numerical order of our visa cards in quiet and orderly rows...except for the small knot of Westerners in line with me who were showing their nervous tension by being a little bit too loud.

The North Korean passport control on the eastern transport corridor is extremely isolated. There are no other buildings visible at all. At first glance the landscape appeared very empty. But as I started to scan the hills around, as you do while you are waiting quietly in line, I started to notice that a great many of the ridges, rocky outcrops and vantage points of the steep surronding hills are groups of men in uniform. Once I start to notice they are there I caught sight of other heads (wearing that distinctive wide crown uniform hat) moving behind rocks and realised there were other larger groups in a more hidden positions I hadn't immediately noticed.

A song was playing on an old tannoy system, the same song over and over with the lines of too quiet people, the grim faced soldiers and the brittle metallic cheerfullness of the music was a very eerie combination. There is a row of temporary toilets around the courtyard where we are gathered waiting, people who needed to use them did, but it was difficult to keep the door closed against the wind and several people were exposed as they crouched. There was a ring of armed men watching without expression from an embankment above us.

Once past the border we drove on. Every hundred metres beside the road was a sentry with a red signal flag standing at attention. None of the men were in informal poses, all were alert and appeared disciplined. I remember being told that there are an average of one million DPRK soldiers stationed along the border. Suddenly I beleived it to be true. At times the steep landscape opened out into valleys and we drove past farms. I could see groups of people wearing grey uniforms working with what looked like overseers supervising.

We were not allowed to photograph any of this. From time to time, despite the warnings not to, someone would be unable to resist the temptation to try and steal a shot or two. Our 'guides' were very alert to this and firm in their insistance that we not do this. Their obvious stress about the situation did more to convince us to behave than anything else.

All of the images (left) were taken in 'approved' sites for photographing. At the border all cameras were checked for maximum lense length, I could see things in the distance that my camera couldnt capture. For example behind the lonely reception center where the buses parked there was a substantial wire fence. On our side of the fence a series of large but clearly unused buildings...which we were told are identical replicas of some of Kim Jong-Il's favourite buildings in Pyeong-yang. But on the other side of the fence in the distance a series of low concrete buildings with a very different character. We were able to glimpse another kind of reality but not able to document it.

Next we were unloaded from our buses once more and directed to walk the path up the mountain. This path is a well tended and centuries old Buddhist pilgrimage that most of the South Korean tourists with us had come explicitly to experience. This was visually spectacular in austere kind of way, spring was just beginning to burst and it was still quite cold with small pockets of snow at high levels. The walk was very beautiful but in another way excrutiatingly frustrating. I knew that I was unable to bring what I had seen away with me, that the images I would share when I returned home would be of the strange empty beauty with the shadows sucessfully out of sight.

The very simple action of placing stones on my eyes was the only way I knew to explain this feeling.

These two stones caused a great deal of trouble. As we were never left unsupervised, as soon as I posed for the first photograph one of the watching attendants radioed ahead, I managed to stand once more with the stones on my eyes in a group of tourists near the end of the trail, allowing a second photograph before I was approached and searched, the stones taken from me with threats of prosecution.

As we left the area and returned on the buses to the border, clearly news of my transgression had been radioed ahead once more. A guard came aboard the bus and asked again about the stones, specifically looking for a blonde woman with illegal contraband. After nothing was found I was ignored, but two South Korean artists in our group were taken away for an hour and questioned while the convoy of loaded buses waited. They eventually returned, very distressed and tearful. My feeling is that the group of unruly westeners attracted unfavourable attention but that the South Koreans were perceived as an easier target politically, that the distress they endured was intended for the rest of us. I dont know for sure that the two things were related but I beleive that they were, I certainly felt responsible. We left North Korea with a feeling of huge releif.

The work Blind appears to be very easy and simple, but it was neither easy or simple.

text dated: May 2006, Ali Bramwell

update on July 11, 2008: Today a 53 year old tourist was shot twice and killed for walking into the wrong area at the Gumgan mountain resort in North Korea. See here for news report on Aljazeera