Before I do anything, let me tell you about what I did last night after blogging. I walked up the hill to downtown Seogwipo and bought some shampoo and water. However, on the way back, I paused at a little outdoor arcade thingy that had four small batting cages. I stepped in, pumped in 500 won, and then proceeded to strike out for approximately five innings (with a few balls and fouls thrown in here and there). I got my technique back about the 17th ball and had to pump in another500 won to really round it out. It was fun though; and kind of charming to boot. After dark, stark fluorescent lighting all about, teenage boys tag-teaming the next cage down, little girls jumping on the trampoline, and the old proprietor in his fedora sitting in a shack and watching TV, while cars rumbled past on the road and young couples strolled merrily up and down the sidewalk. Magical, you might call it.
Okay, now on to June 30, 2009. Pop quiz: what's black (or dark gray), full of holes, and holds up the economy of Jeju Island (not to mention Jeju Island itself)?
Give up?
Basalt. Jeju's covered with it. Made of it, really. The island itself is really part of the shield volcano that thrust itself out of the ocean earlier on in the Quaternary Period, of which mighty Mount Hallasan is only the peak. That's one of the main reasons that there's hardly any standing water on this island, because the porous, igneous basaltic rock sucks it all up immediately. Just thought I'd point that out, because I was forcibly reminded today, by the travel brochure, the educational video in the Natural History Museum, and my own eyes that Jeju is inextricably tied to porous basalt rock. The ancient Korean people on this island made good use of it for walls and gateposts. They had an interesting custom: there were three logs placed laterally across their gates, fitted into and held up by round holes in both gateposts. But they didn't always insert all three of them across the gateway. These logs' purpose was similar to the "away message" on an online chat service. If a neighbor came around and saw one inserted log, that meant the owner of the house would be back in a jiffy. Two logs meant he'd be out for a bit. All three logs placed across the gateway indicated an entire day's absence. Ain't that neat?
On tap for today: explore Jeju City. I'd caught a meager glimpse on the airport limousine out of Jeju International, and my guidebook assured me that there'd be sights (and tastes) galore. I was eager to see for myself. So...
I got up this morning after a lovely lie-in. I did my morning exercises while watching Seondeok Yeohwang, a rather cute Korean drama detailing the ascension of Princess Deokman (later Queen Seondeok, ruler of the Silla Kingdom from 632 to 647 A.D.) against the wishes of a scheming courtier. (Seondeok was the name of the queen in question, and yeohwang literally means "girl king," or queen. So the title of the drama translates to Great Queen Seondeok.) The drama mainly focuses on Deokman's largely fictionalized military service, and her alliance with her twin sister, Princess Cheonmyeong (who has a crush on Deokman's commander, and...well, there you have the drama). The whole thing actually ain't half bad.
I am the dorkiest traveler ever, and I love it. Picture me, wearing running shoes without socks, cargo shorts (belted, with my camera in its holster and my umbrella attached by its lanyard on said belt), a T-shirt, a bandanna (the one I got in Jirisan), and that floppy hat I got in the market at Gohyeon. My pockets are stuffed with my wallet, bank book, passport, itinerary, loose change, handkerchief, room key, and guide book. The picture was quite, um, unique, let me assure you. Thus arrayed, I sallied forth and hailed a cab. The Seogwipo bus terminal had been moved from the Jungang Rotary stop (a roundabout in the center of downtown) about five kilometers west to the site of the old World Cup Stadium from the Japan-Korea match in 2002. That was all well and good; on my way to the terminal I could stop off and see the stadium, get some brunch at E-Mart, and maybe even (on the way back) catch Transformers 2 at Lotte Cinema, all within the stadium complex. This I did, with the exception of the movie. I merely assured myself of the movie times and walked back out again. My brunch was barbecued chicken (about ₩5,500), a fruit assortment of cherry tomatoes, grapes, and pineapple (about ₩4,500), and a couple of doughnuts (for about ₩1400). I exited E-Mart and found a nice spot on the steps of a PC bang to eat it. Meanwhile, I watched the skies get halfway to clearing up and then cloud over again. Darn, is it gonna be rainy the WHOLE friggin' time I'm here?
Concluding my brunch, I bought a 3,000-won ticket for Jeju City and climbed aboard. The ride was exhausting. I hadn't realized it would be the scenic route, so I was mentally unprepared for the undoubtedly scenic but quite lengthy three-hour jaunt we took around the western edge of the island. That cut my sightseeing time in Jeju in half, but what the heck? It was only three grand. And besides, more usefully yet, the trip confirmed my suspicions that there was really nothing worth my precious time to see in Western Jeju-do. With the possible exceptions of Sangbangsan, a jungle-clad butte on the southwest shores, and Biyangdo, a hilly island off the western coast (both of which were fantastic in appearance, even from a distance), there was next to nothing of interest during the whole ride.
I was a bit peeved when I finally disembarked in Jeju, as you may imagine. As I mentioned, I'd lost a few precious hours by going the scenic way instead of the more direct route through the center of the island. Moreover, you know where I stand on the intercity bus issue. This driver had been no exception. He was horn-happy. I'd watched him, and he'd occasionally let rip in the middle of the road, with no other cars around, and no stops in sight. He did this too frequently for it to be an accident. The man had a compulsion of some sort.
Irrespective of this setback, I resolved to make the best of it. After briefly checking the bike shop on my Lonely Planet guide book's map nearby (to see if they rented scooters, which they didn't) I hailed a cab and went to the Chiseongno shopping district. My first stop was the underground shopping mall in the center of the city. It has a name, but I forgot it. That's poetically just, as the place was quite forgettable. The only thing even halfway impressive about it was its size, or rather, length. Standing in the center of its main hallway and looking towards either end, the place seemed to go on forever.
That was it. The average shop was the size of Paris Hilton's closet. Moreover most of the shops dealt in lingerie or ladies' designer clothing; not my cup of tea. I exited 20 minutes after arriving and went somewhere much more fulfilling and enlightening:
Jeju Mok, the restored and rebuilt remnants of what was once the central governing office of the island way back during the Joseon Dynasty. The governor's office was still standing, but the stables and the house where they trained concubines (yes, that's correct: geishas were nationalized in South Korea) had fallen. Only grass plots remained to show where some of the buildings had been.
The place seemed to be well set up, though. It retained military and governmental offices...
...training grounds...
...even a humongous building that seemed (according to the placard in front of it) to have no other purpose than to have government officials stand on it and face northward to express gratitude to the distant king in Seoul.
Whoop-de-doo, they built a whole building for that? Couldn't they have just used an overturned bucket or a soap box or something?
Sorry, maybe I'm still a bit peeved about honking horns. Anyway, after that I got a cab for the waterfront district. This was a BIG letdown. Yes, Jeju City has a waterfront, but no beach. There's just a seawall you can look over at the brooding South Sea (the China Sea), punctuated by the occasional staircase to nowhere that goes right down into the water.
I clambered over the wall and stood at the bottom of one of those staircases, right at the water's edge, with nothing but a vast trackless waste of water in front of me...
...and was disturbed by so many visions of some nameless, horrid sea monster lurching up out of the depths and swallowing me whole that I beat a hasty retreat a short while later. I strolled along the boardwalk by the seawall for a little bit, but the view was disappointing. I began to suspect that Jeju City would have nothing to offer me in the way of relaxation or scenery even IF the sun was shining. Oh yes, that's right, did I forget to mention that little detail too? It rained all day today. It was either sprinkling or pouring the entire...effing...day. Nutzoid, trust me and my bad travel karma to come to the subtropical Korean holiday island in the middle of the dingblasted rainy season.
Sighting E-Mart, I bore left and doubled back along the road to reach my next objective: one of the many fish restaurants that dot the waterfront district. I didn't care which, really, as long as I could get a big bowl of seafood. And I hit the jackpot: a little place wedged between two others, enticing photographs of its menu selection stuck up above the door. It was a unique little place, run by an elderly Korean trio (a man, the owner, and two ladies, one presumably his wife) and a Chinese girl. She was an exchange student and her Korean was excellent; her English, she explained, used to be good but had suffered as a result of her learning Korean. As someone whose previously passable Spanish has been reduced to tatters by Korean, I sympathized with her. I was ushered in and seated at the regular table, not the usual elevated floor where Koreans doff their shoes and sit at low tables. They must've figured I was the earthbound foreigner type. It didn't matter to me, as long as I got some seafood, and didn't offend these good people in the process. I gazed over the picturesque menu for a moment before making my decision: haemuljeongol, an extremely chunky seafood soup with vegetables. Twenty thousand won bought me a whopping great bowlful, boiled right at my table (stirred by my good self) and served hot with traditional Korean banchan (side dishes; the kimchi was particularly good). It had everything in it: cuttlefish tentacles, whole prawns, oysters, mussels on the half shell, bisected crabs, and unidentifiable bits that were nonetheless delicious. I strongly advise anyone who is not a dyed-in-the-wool seafood fan like me to avoid this dish. (I eat lobster shells. That's what I mean by "dyed-in-the-wool.") It was pretty darn good, but nothing special. The broth was tasty but not overly flavorful; the highlight of the dish was biting down into some particularly juicy and delectable bit of sea creature. I did my best to finish the whole pan, but it defeated me; I left a helping or two. I must've impressed them regardless; I noticed that after I emptied my water bottle and finished my sides, they started dishing me up larger portions. Anyway, I finished, leaned back, rubbed my stomach, delivered a few well-timed compliments to the chef (in Korean, of course), settled up and took my leave.
Suitably satiated ("dine in Jeju City" had been one of the things on my to-do list), I hailed yet another cab and headed to Sinsan Park, wherein lay the mysterious Samseonghyeol Shrine and the Natural History Museum. The museum was easy to find. The shrine, not so much. After wandering in and out of rooms for an hour and a half, observing everything from the formation of the shield volcano that formed the island to the peculiar stalagmite and lava formations in the numerous lava tubes that dot the island to the incredibly diverse native flora and fauna of the island to the singular culture and history of the indigenous Korean people on the island, I exited the museum and went in search of the shrine.
No luck. For once my Lonely Planet guide book's map was no help. It indicated only that the shrine was somewhere west of the museum; no trail led to it. Paths were not clearly marked. I wandered about aimlessly for a few minutes in a perfunctory search, halfheartedly retracing old paths; all I found was an old man busily humping some cone-shaped statue thingy. If that was the shrine, I wasn't much interested. I also found this:
I later found out that I'd been looking for the wrong thing. Being in Korea had made be believe "shrine" to be synonymous with "pagoda." I was barking up the wrong tree this time. Samseonghyeol Shrine is actually composed of three side-by-side holes in the ground. Why is that sacred, you ask? It was from these holes that three brothers are said to have emerged (way back in the day) and founded the independent Tamna Kingdom of Jeju. Each of them shot an arrow in a different direction and ruled the sector of the island where it landed. (I believe the name Samseonghyeol means "Three Celestial Brothers.") Too bad I didn't know that at the time. I was looking for a pagoda.
Recognizing defeat as well as the onset of night, I called it a day and hailed a cab for the bus station. I paid another three grand. During the ethereal bus ride home (through the dark and the thickening mist) I noticed with profound relief that I was, in fact, on the short bus. Ha ha, no, seriously, I was on the bus that was taking the short route, the 5.16 Road (that's not the number of the road, it's the name...I think May 16th is a famous date here for some reason I haven't discovered yet). It connects Jeju City and Seogwipo directly, curving around the eastern side of Hallasan in the center of the island. In short order I was disembarking at Jungang Rotary in downtown Seogwipo. Though I knew I was within a mere kilometer of the Jeju Hiking Inn, having not visited this part of the city yet and being too tired to be bothered asking directions, I simply hailed a cab and rode to the Sunbeach Hotel. From thence it was a short stroll back to my place, where I started writing this.
So, all in all, I think I accomplished my mission. I'd wanted to check out the National Jeju Museum as well as the Natural History Museum, not to mention a few other sights and sounds and drinking establishments in the greater Jeju area, but thanks to that dratted indirect bus ride I'd taken earlier I'd been precluded. That having been said, I'm not chalking this up as a loss. The point was to go to Jeju City, not to conquer it. I accomplished my general objectives: check out the shopping district, eat somewhere along the waterfront, and visit the park. That was done. I'm now going to go back up to my room and be Princess Deokman's newest cheerleader. The actress who portrays her, I Yo-Won, is rather cute...
Concluding my brunch, I bought a 3,000-won ticket for Jeju City and climbed aboard. The ride was exhausting. I hadn't realized it would be the scenic route, so I was mentally unprepared for the undoubtedly scenic but quite lengthy three-hour jaunt we took around the western edge of the island. That cut my sightseeing time in Jeju in half, but what the heck? It was only three grand. And besides, more usefully yet, the trip confirmed my suspicions that there was really nothing worth my precious time to see in Western Jeju-do. With the possible exceptions of Sangbangsan, a jungle-clad butte on the southwest shores, and Biyangdo, a hilly island off the western coast (both of which were fantastic in appearance, even from a distance), there was next to nothing of interest during the whole ride.
I was a bit peeved when I finally disembarked in Jeju, as you may imagine. As I mentioned, I'd lost a few precious hours by going the scenic way instead of the more direct route through the center of the island. Moreover, you know where I stand on the intercity bus issue. This driver had been no exception. He was horn-happy. I'd watched him, and he'd occasionally let rip in the middle of the road, with no other cars around, and no stops in sight. He did this too frequently for it to be an accident. The man had a compulsion of some sort.
Irrespective of this setback, I resolved to make the best of it. After briefly checking the bike shop on my Lonely Planet guide book's map nearby (to see if they rented scooters, which they didn't) I hailed a cab and went to the Chiseongno shopping district. My first stop was the underground shopping mall in the center of the city. It has a name, but I forgot it. That's poetically just, as the place was quite forgettable. The only thing even halfway impressive about it was its size, or rather, length. Standing in the center of its main hallway and looking towards either end, the place seemed to go on forever.
That was it. The average shop was the size of Paris Hilton's closet. Moreover most of the shops dealt in lingerie or ladies' designer clothing; not my cup of tea. I exited 20 minutes after arriving and went somewhere much more fulfilling and enlightening:
Jeju Mok, the restored and rebuilt remnants of what was once the central governing office of the island way back during the Joseon Dynasty. The governor's office was still standing, but the stables and the house where they trained concubines (yes, that's correct: geishas were nationalized in South Korea) had fallen. Only grass plots remained to show where some of the buildings had been.
The place seemed to be well set up, though. It retained military and governmental offices...
...training grounds...
...even a humongous building that seemed (according to the placard in front of it) to have no other purpose than to have government officials stand on it and face northward to express gratitude to the distant king in Seoul.
Whoop-de-doo, they built a whole building for that? Couldn't they have just used an overturned bucket or a soap box or something?
Sorry, maybe I'm still a bit peeved about honking horns. Anyway, after that I got a cab for the waterfront district. This was a BIG letdown. Yes, Jeju City has a waterfront, but no beach. There's just a seawall you can look over at the brooding South Sea (the China Sea), punctuated by the occasional staircase to nowhere that goes right down into the water.
I clambered over the wall and stood at the bottom of one of those staircases, right at the water's edge, with nothing but a vast trackless waste of water in front of me...
...and was disturbed by so many visions of some nameless, horrid sea monster lurching up out of the depths and swallowing me whole that I beat a hasty retreat a short while later. I strolled along the boardwalk by the seawall for a little bit, but the view was disappointing. I began to suspect that Jeju City would have nothing to offer me in the way of relaxation or scenery even IF the sun was shining. Oh yes, that's right, did I forget to mention that little detail too? It rained all day today. It was either sprinkling or pouring the entire...effing...day. Nutzoid, trust me and my bad travel karma to come to the subtropical Korean holiday island in the middle of the dingblasted rainy season.
Sighting E-Mart, I bore left and doubled back along the road to reach my next objective: one of the many fish restaurants that dot the waterfront district. I didn't care which, really, as long as I could get a big bowl of seafood. And I hit the jackpot: a little place wedged between two others, enticing photographs of its menu selection stuck up above the door. It was a unique little place, run by an elderly Korean trio (a man, the owner, and two ladies, one presumably his wife) and a Chinese girl. She was an exchange student and her Korean was excellent; her English, she explained, used to be good but had suffered as a result of her learning Korean. As someone whose previously passable Spanish has been reduced to tatters by Korean, I sympathized with her. I was ushered in and seated at the regular table, not the usual elevated floor where Koreans doff their shoes and sit at low tables. They must've figured I was the earthbound foreigner type. It didn't matter to me, as long as I got some seafood, and didn't offend these good people in the process. I gazed over the picturesque menu for a moment before making my decision: haemuljeongol, an extremely chunky seafood soup with vegetables. Twenty thousand won bought me a whopping great bowlful, boiled right at my table (stirred by my good self) and served hot with traditional Korean banchan (side dishes; the kimchi was particularly good). It had everything in it: cuttlefish tentacles, whole prawns, oysters, mussels on the half shell, bisected crabs, and unidentifiable bits that were nonetheless delicious. I strongly advise anyone who is not a dyed-in-the-wool seafood fan like me to avoid this dish. (I eat lobster shells. That's what I mean by "dyed-in-the-wool.") It was pretty darn good, but nothing special. The broth was tasty but not overly flavorful; the highlight of the dish was biting down into some particularly juicy and delectable bit of sea creature. I did my best to finish the whole pan, but it defeated me; I left a helping or two. I must've impressed them regardless; I noticed that after I emptied my water bottle and finished my sides, they started dishing me up larger portions. Anyway, I finished, leaned back, rubbed my stomach, delivered a few well-timed compliments to the chef (in Korean, of course), settled up and took my leave.
Suitably satiated ("dine in Jeju City" had been one of the things on my to-do list), I hailed yet another cab and headed to Sinsan Park, wherein lay the mysterious Samseonghyeol Shrine and the Natural History Museum. The museum was easy to find. The shrine, not so much. After wandering in and out of rooms for an hour and a half, observing everything from the formation of the shield volcano that formed the island to the peculiar stalagmite and lava formations in the numerous lava tubes that dot the island to the incredibly diverse native flora and fauna of the island to the singular culture and history of the indigenous Korean people on the island, I exited the museum and went in search of the shrine.
No luck. For once my Lonely Planet guide book's map was no help. It indicated only that the shrine was somewhere west of the museum; no trail led to it. Paths were not clearly marked. I wandered about aimlessly for a few minutes in a perfunctory search, halfheartedly retracing old paths; all I found was an old man busily humping some cone-shaped statue thingy. If that was the shrine, I wasn't much interested. I also found this:
I later found out that I'd been looking for the wrong thing. Being in Korea had made be believe "shrine" to be synonymous with "pagoda." I was barking up the wrong tree this time. Samseonghyeol Shrine is actually composed of three side-by-side holes in the ground. Why is that sacred, you ask? It was from these holes that three brothers are said to have emerged (way back in the day) and founded the independent Tamna Kingdom of Jeju. Each of them shot an arrow in a different direction and ruled the sector of the island where it landed. (I believe the name Samseonghyeol means "Three Celestial Brothers.") Too bad I didn't know that at the time. I was looking for a pagoda.
Recognizing defeat as well as the onset of night, I called it a day and hailed a cab for the bus station. I paid another three grand. During the ethereal bus ride home (through the dark and the thickening mist) I noticed with profound relief that I was, in fact, on the short bus. Ha ha, no, seriously, I was on the bus that was taking the short route, the 5.16 Road (that's not the number of the road, it's the name...I think May 16th is a famous date here for some reason I haven't discovered yet). It connects Jeju City and Seogwipo directly, curving around the eastern side of Hallasan in the center of the island. In short order I was disembarking at Jungang Rotary in downtown Seogwipo. Though I knew I was within a mere kilometer of the Jeju Hiking Inn, having not visited this part of the city yet and being too tired to be bothered asking directions, I simply hailed a cab and rode to the Sunbeach Hotel. From thence it was a short stroll back to my place, where I started writing this.
So, all in all, I think I accomplished my mission. I'd wanted to check out the National Jeju Museum as well as the Natural History Museum, not to mention a few other sights and sounds and drinking establishments in the greater Jeju area, but thanks to that dratted indirect bus ride I'd taken earlier I'd been precluded. That having been said, I'm not chalking this up as a loss. The point was to go to Jeju City, not to conquer it. I accomplished my general objectives: check out the shopping district, eat somewhere along the waterfront, and visit the park. That was done. I'm now going to go back up to my room and be Princess Deokman's newest cheerleader. The actress who portrays her, I Yo-Won, is rather cute...
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