Visiting the Demilitarised Zone on the border of North and South Korea: Touring the DMZ

During the month before our coach tour from Seoul to the Demilitarised Zone (DMZ) separating North and South Korea, the North conducted underground nuclear weapons testing and fired a new long-range missile. In retaliation, South Korea closed its factory complex just over the border at the Kaesong Industrial Complex, an uneasy alliance combining South Korea's technical knowledge and capital with cheap labour from the North, where monthly wages average $US200 against $US4000 in the South.

Winter snowflakes drift down outside our windows as we pass through the Civilian Control Line, 50 kilometres north of Seoul and the first checkpoint along Highway 1, the only road connecting the two Koreas. From this point north, 10 kilometres from the Military Demarcation Line (MDL) border that separates the two foes, civilian habitation is confined to just two small farming communities.

A South Korean soldier boards our bus to check our passports and dress code (no ripped jeans, sandals or clothing displaying provocative text) before we board a military bus at Camp Bonifas, the army base just outside the DMZ, a heavily fortified, 240-kilometre-long buffer zone either side of the border. Our guide, Seon Mee, advises us to leave any bags on the bus. "Cameras and phones must be carried in your hands," she says.

Because of the snow, a decision is made to postpone our briefing on behavioural protocol inside the Joint Security Area (JSA) until after we've passed through a double barbed-wire fence and entered Freedom House, a Soviet-style concrete "palace" overlooking the border. It was here that the two sides traded shots after the defection of a Russian asylum seeker in 1984. And as recently as November 13, 2017, a North Korean soldier made a bold dash across the MDL under a hail of gunfire.

Considering this border region's chequered history, it surprises no one when we're asked to sign waiver forms against the "possibility of injury or death as a direct result of enemy action". We are also under strict instructions not to point at anyone, and at one stage I kneel on one knee to take a photograph whereupon I'm promptly ordered to stand up again, lest it be considered inflammatory. To say that this place is jittery is beyond doubt.

A total of 24 buildings, often referred to as Truce Village, are scattered around inside the JSA, where South Korea's Freedom House mirrors a North Korean equivalent, Panmun Hall. In between are two white barracks, which flank three buildings painted in the powder blue colour of the United Nations. Collectively, they are known as Conference Row, as this is where officials from both sides meet to discuss diplomatic issues under the watchful eye of the UN. Office desks are scattered around a room that's otherwise remarkable for its austerity, with the MDL that roughly follows the 38th Parallel cutting through the middle of them.

This part of the JSA – also known as Panmunjeom, after the village here that was abandoned during the war – is as close as you're likely to get to a North Korean soldier. Outside, I count seven South Korean guards, plus a further three UN soldiers. Two South Korean soldiers stand to attention inside the middle building. Just one North Korean soldier is visible across the border.