I was entirely unsure of what to do with myself today. But, as usual for me, once I got outside in the morning air and started walking around, a plan materialized.
I know, I thought. I'll go see Oedolgae and the other rocks, and then snag all the stuff I missed yesterday in Northeastern Jeju!
Or something like that.
So I trudged off down the street, snagging a few images of Seogwipo on the way.
...like this......and this. This is the central square-intersection thingy of Old Seogwipo, incidentally where my hostel, the Jeju Hiking Inn, was located. (It's the semi-tall building to the left of the side street.)
The harubang were everywhere.
The walk was extremely pleasant, especially past the slightly swankier hotel/restaurant district.
...not to mention the luscious foliage.
After a lovely stroll through downtown Seogwipo and down some jungle-clad trails, I arrived at Oedolgae, or the Lonely Rock.
Just a kilometer or so from my corner of Seogwipo was this tall pillar of rock sticking straight up out of the ocean, just off the coast. The sucker must be 50 or 60 feet tall. It was an impressive sight, to be honest, worth the blasphemous heat and humidity of the day for a walk under the cool shade trees...
...to the overlook point where I viewed it.
I must admit, though, it got even better when I went back to the parking lot and bought a coconut with a straw in it for ₩4,000 (about three-fifty in U.S. dollars). Mmmm, nothing like fresh, ice-cold coconut milk after a long hot walk and staring at a rock. I even cracked it open when I was done and sampled the meat, but it was quite tough. So I donated it to the forest gods. (Don't worry, I made sure to dispose of the plastic straw in the proper receptacle.)
I caught a cab next for Jusangjeolli, the basaltic tower formations about ten kilometers farther down the road, toward New Seogwipo. That was a mistake. I mean the cab was a mistake, not going to Jusangjeolli. It was 11,000 won. I should've waited for the bus, but I was in a hurry. After forking over the ₩2,500 admission fee to see the rocks, I gave them a thorough viewing.
I walked into the delightful little park they'd built on the top of the cliffs first.
(I accidentally went in through the out door, as far as wooden promenades are concerned.)
It was a peaceful sight, these monolithic basalt steps and pillars, formed by the uneven cooling of lava thousands of years ago, being slowly weathered away by the actions of relentless water.
The energetic waves swooshed and roared around their bases, throwing up majestic splashes (and all that jazz).
I took a few perfunctory photos, put the camera away, then just leaned on the balustrade and relaxed for a bit.
...and then walked back out a different way than I came in, through the park they'd set up.
That was pretty enough, with yucca plants and ocotillo and some strange pillars...
...and even a few more harubang...
...but lo and behold! Guess where I popped out!
It was the ICC, the International Convention Center, Jeju. I hadn't planned on going here (even though it was on my map) because, well, I've got no interest in conventions. But it turned out to be an interesting stroll regardless. They had a duty-free shop (disappointingly filled with nothing but notions, handbags and perfumes, just as in Seoul), some restaurants, and some impressive architecture, not to mention a bucketload of foreigners draining slowly out of the aforementioned restaurants.
I hate to state the obvious, but there must've been an international convention going on. There were hundreds of them, mostly middle-aged and elderly, none of them speaking any language I recognized. I meandered out of the building amid this throng. They headed toward their tour buses and I headed up the street to get another cab. After viewing the Jusangjeolli Rocks I'd realized there was something else down here in Seogwipo I had to see before I did anything else: Yeomiji Botanical Garden.
Thence I boldly went next, and what a banquet for the eyes it was (even despite the fact that there were hardly any English labels; just Korean and Latin). For a slightly hefty ₩7,000 I was deluged with more of the world's flora than I could possibly absorb in one go. First, there was a grand sort of greenhouse, which resembled a smaller version of St. Paul's Cathedral in London (made of glass).
This grand greenhouse proved, on the inside, to be a grand atrium, arching over my head in a most titanic fashion...
...and resplendent with flowers and plants and growths of all sorts.Through the central column you could take a glass elevator up a few levels and then climb some narrow staircases to the very top of the tower.
From there, I had views of the principalities of New Seogwipo and Jungmun...
... the bridge over the chasm where lay Cheonjeyeon Waterfall...
...the distant South Sea, the hazy Convention Center a ways off, and the rest of Yeomiji itself. It was quite something, and it only improved from there. Radiating outward from the central gallery were numerous smaller greenhouses (each still the size of a good gymnasium). These were themed, and housed numerous examples of a particular kind of plant life. There were fruit tree gardens and jungle gardens...
...water gardens and cactus gardens...
It was amazing. The place had been really well set up. Wandering into these rooms immersed you in another world; dark trunks surrounded me and spreading foliage flowed all around, thrusting itself from every aperture on the ground and even in the air, cambering over my head like the bower of a forest goddess. Shade hung heavy upon the ground, and a sacred quiet prevailed, unsullied by the eclectic mix of insipid music they had playing on the stereo system. The cactus garden held specimens whose existence I'd never even suspected before (and my father collects cacti). The flower garden was kind of a letdown (not very much variety) but peaceful and tranquil. The jungle was impressive, a huge tangle of India rubber trees and hair palms and ferns, with ponds and swamps and statues of dinosaurs scattered among it.
Outside, the ocular smorgasbord continued: the Japanese garden was filled with hungry koi...
...the Korean garden was small, and impressive with its stone wall and stately pagoda...
...the stroll through the area decorated with native Jeju vegetation was nothing short of scenic......the Italian garden was nothing short of epic, with a massive fountain...
...the French garden was elegant and immacuately trimmed, quite serene...
...and the sunken garden was small but nonetheless unique.
I strode briskly but not hurriedly through this botanical Mecca, surprised and pleased by its extent and scope. I went at the wrong time of year, of course; late June and early July. If I'd been on Jeju earlier in May, the entire island would've been bursting at the seams with flowers. Purple azaleas bloom on the summit of Hallasan; I'm sure Yeomiji has its fair share of florid eye candy at that time as well. I highly recommend the trip. The price was steep; the soul massage was irreplacable. Don't take my word for it.
Following Yeomiji, I detoured outside and took a quick right into a little park that was just off the main road, right next to botanical gardens. It housed an impressive temple...
...a five-headed fountain that granted wishes...
...and some stunning views of Cheonjeyeon Waterfall.
NOTE: Don't confuse Cheonjeyeon Waterfall with the one I went to the first day I got here, right by my hotel in Old Seogwipo, Cheonjiyeon Waterfall.
After wandering about the park and its various lookout points (including the massive bridge that spans the chasm and a monument to the seven nymphs who in ancient times were said to slide down moonbeams to bathe at the pool at the bottom of the falls), I exited the complex. Since I was so close, I figured I might as well go have a look at Jungmun Beach, even if I wasn't going to swim there (yet). It was an impressive sight: a huge, velvety expanse of fine-sand beach, backed by towering jungle-clad cliffs and girded by impressive piles of ebony rock, with plenty of surf and not too many people.
The seafood restaurants were doing a bustling trade, there were swimsuits for rent and snacks for sale, and it was just a fun, sociable scene. For the umpteenth time this trip I regretted that I was here by myself, but determined to make the best of it, I doffed my shoes and splodged for a short while in the surf. The water was nice and cool, but no longer bone-chilling. Then I sat down (while my feet dried), ordered up a nice tall bottle of ice-cold water, and sipped it as I people-watched.
The young-and-hot crowd was out in force today, I'll just say that, but there were a few families mixed in, and a thankfully small number of weirdos (the only one I noticed was an elderly, portly fellow in a red-and-black Hawaiian shirt and a coachman's cap with a fuzzy beard, gazing very intently at the fish for sale).
After my feet dried I went a few yards back up the lane away from the beach, sat down at a fish restaurant, and ordered up some meonggae (raw sea squirt) and a beer.
I snacked on this while the sun got lower. It was interesting eating. The meonggae was neither spongy, rubbery nor slimy, and tasted vaguely of abalone, but there was some undercurrent of flavor in there that had an almost bitter, vegetable-like quality. That makes sense, considering. I gulped it down quickly (I was hungry, and it was tasty, and there was only 500 grams of it, all for 10,000 won), then sat and leisurely finished my can of Cass. I had knotted my bandanna around my head in deference to the sweat; I must've looked like an off-duty pirate. I finally got up, walked a kilometer or so back to the Convention Center (and the airport limousine bus stop), and caught the next bus for the Sunbeach Hotel, Seogwipo. And here I am writing to you about it.
Still no word from Patrick. I assume he must've made it to this town just peachy; now it's just a matter of contacting him. In the meantime, I'll think I'll take it easy this evening. It's already far too late (six o'clock) to even think about trying for any of the other stuff I wanted to see in North Jeju, like the lava tubes or the village. I think I'll have to push that back to Sunday. Tomorrow is Hallasan and Jeju City (for the bars on Friday night) and the next day is Jungmun Beach and who knows what-all. Until next time...
A wonderful trip it must have been. I am sitting here in Minnesota reading this, enamored by your ambition and brisk prose . . . a pilot you are. Where on the South Korean mainland have you traveled?
It was quite a marvelous trip. Thank you for your kind words. As far as the Korean mainland is concerned, I never saw the DMZ, nor anything north or directly east of Seoul...I saw Seoul once, but mostly stuck to the southern provinces. I traveled all around Gyeongsangnam-do, a little bit in Gyeongsangbuk-do (Gyeongju, ancient capital of the Silla Kingdom)...and a couple of cities in Jeollanam-do in the southwest corner of the peninsula. Have you traveled in Korea?
...like this...
...and this. This is the central square-intersection thingy of Old Seogwipo, incidentally where my hostel, the Jeju Hiking Inn, was located. (It's the semi-tall building to the left of the side street.)
The harubang were everywhere.
The walk was extremely pleasant, especially past the slightly swankier hotel/restaurant district.
...not to mention the luscious foliage.
After a lovely stroll through downtown Seogwipo and down some jungle-clad trails, I arrived at Oedolgae, or the Lonely Rock.
Just a kilometer or so from my corner of Seogwipo was this tall pillar of rock sticking straight up out of the ocean, just off the coast. The sucker must be 50 or 60 feet tall. It was an impressive sight, to be honest, worth the blasphemous heat and humidity of the day for a walk under the cool shade trees...
...to the overlook point where I viewed it.
I must admit, though, it got even better when I went back to the parking lot and bought a coconut with a straw in it for ₩4,000 (about three-fifty in U.S. dollars). Mmmm, nothing like fresh, ice-cold coconut milk after a long hot walk and staring at a rock. I even cracked it open when I was done and sampled the meat, but it was quite tough. So I donated it to the forest gods. (Don't worry, I made sure to dispose of the plastic straw in the proper receptacle.)
I caught a cab next for Jusangjeolli, the basaltic tower formations about ten kilometers farther down the road, toward New Seogwipo. That was a mistake. I mean the cab was a mistake, not going to Jusangjeolli. It was 11,000 won. I should've waited for the bus, but I was in a hurry. After forking over the ₩2,500 admission fee to see the rocks, I gave them a thorough viewing.
I walked into the delightful little park they'd built on the top of the cliffs first.
(I accidentally went in through the out door, as far as wooden promenades are concerned.)
It was a peaceful sight, these monolithic basalt steps and pillars, formed by the uneven cooling of lava thousands of years ago, being slowly weathered away by the actions of relentless water.
The energetic waves swooshed and roared around their bases, throwing up majestic splashes (and all that jazz).
I took a few perfunctory photos, put the camera away, then just leaned on the balustrade and relaxed for a bit.
...and then walked back out a different way than I came in, through the park they'd set up.
That was pretty enough, with yucca plants and ocotillo and some strange pillars...
...and even a few more harubang...
...but lo and behold! Guess where I popped out!
It was the ICC, the International Convention Center, Jeju. I hadn't planned on going here (even though it was on my map) because, well, I've got no interest in conventions. But it turned out to be an interesting stroll regardless. They had a duty-free shop (disappointingly filled with nothing but notions, handbags and perfumes, just as in Seoul), some restaurants, and some impressive architecture, not to mention a bucketload of foreigners draining slowly out of the aforementioned restaurants.
I hate to state the obvious, but there must've been an international convention going on. There were hundreds of them, mostly middle-aged and elderly, none of them speaking any language I recognized. I meandered out of the building amid this throng. They headed toward their tour buses and I headed up the street to get another cab. After viewing the Jusangjeolli Rocks I'd realized there was something else down here in Seogwipo I had to see before I did anything else: Yeomiji Botanical Garden.
Thence I boldly went next, and what a banquet for the eyes it was (even despite the fact that there were hardly any English labels; just Korean and Latin). For a slightly hefty ₩7,000 I was deluged with more of the world's flora than I could possibly absorb in one go. First, there was a grand sort of greenhouse, which resembled a smaller version of St. Paul's Cathedral in London (made of glass).
This grand greenhouse proved, on the inside, to be a grand atrium, arching over my head in a most titanic fashion...
...and resplendent with flowers and plants and growths of all sorts.
Through the central column you could take a glass elevator up a few levels and then climb some narrow staircases to the very top of the tower.
From there, I had views of the principalities of New Seogwipo and Jungmun...
... the bridge over the chasm where lay Cheonjeyeon Waterfall...
...the distant South Sea, the hazy Convention Center a ways off, and the rest of Yeomiji itself. It was quite something, and it only improved from there. Radiating outward from the central gallery were numerous smaller greenhouses (each still the size of a good gymnasium). These were themed, and housed numerous examples of a particular kind of plant life. There were fruit tree gardens and jungle gardens...
...water gardens and cactus gardens...
It was amazing. The place had been really well set up. Wandering into these rooms immersed you in another world; dark trunks surrounded me and spreading foliage flowed all around, thrusting itself from every aperture on the ground and even in the air, cambering over my head like the bower of a forest goddess. Shade hung heavy upon the ground, and a sacred quiet prevailed, unsullied by the eclectic mix of insipid music they had playing on the stereo system. The cactus garden held specimens whose existence I'd never even suspected before (and my father collects cacti). The flower garden was kind of a letdown (not very much variety) but peaceful and tranquil. The jungle was impressive, a huge tangle of India rubber trees and hair palms and ferns, with ponds and swamps and statues of dinosaurs scattered among it.
Outside, the ocular smorgasbord continued: the Japanese garden was filled with hungry koi...
...the Korean garden was small, and impressive with its stone wall and stately pagoda...
...the stroll through the area decorated with native Jeju vegetation was nothing short of scenic...
...the Italian garden was nothing short of epic, with a massive fountain...
...the French garden was elegant and immacuately trimmed, quite serene...
...and the sunken garden was small but nonetheless unique.
I strode briskly but not hurriedly through this botanical Mecca, surprised and pleased by its extent and scope. I went at the wrong time of year, of course; late June and early July. If I'd been on Jeju earlier in May, the entire island would've been bursting at the seams with flowers. Purple azaleas bloom on the summit of Hallasan; I'm sure Yeomiji has its fair share of florid eye candy at that time as well. I highly recommend the trip. The price was steep; the soul massage was irreplacable. Don't take my word for it.
Following Yeomiji, I detoured outside and took a quick right into a little park that was just off the main road, right next to botanical gardens. It housed an impressive temple...
...a five-headed fountain that granted wishes...
...and some stunning views of Cheonjeyeon Waterfall.
NOTE: Don't confuse Cheonjeyeon Waterfall with the one I went to the first day I got here, right by my hotel in Old Seogwipo, Cheonjiyeon Waterfall.
After wandering about the park and its various lookout points (including the massive bridge that spans the chasm and a monument to the seven nymphs who in ancient times were said to slide down moonbeams to bathe at the pool at the bottom of the falls), I exited the complex. Since I was so close, I figured I might as well go have a look at Jungmun Beach, even if I wasn't going to swim there (yet). It was an impressive sight: a huge, velvety expanse of fine-sand beach, backed by towering jungle-clad cliffs and girded by impressive piles of ebony rock, with plenty of surf and not too many people.
The seafood restaurants were doing a bustling trade, there were swimsuits for rent and snacks for sale, and it was just a fun, sociable scene. For the umpteenth time this trip I regretted that I was here by myself, but determined to make the best of it, I doffed my shoes and splodged for a short while in the surf. The water was nice and cool, but no longer bone-chilling. Then I sat down (while my feet dried), ordered up a nice tall bottle of ice-cold water, and sipped it as I people-watched.
The young-and-hot crowd was out in force today, I'll just say that, but there were a few families mixed in, and a thankfully small number of weirdos (the only one I noticed was an elderly, portly fellow in a red-and-black Hawaiian shirt and a coachman's cap with a fuzzy beard, gazing very intently at the fish for sale).
After my feet dried I went a few yards back up the lane away from the beach, sat down at a fish restaurant, and ordered up some meonggae (raw sea squirt) and a beer.
I snacked on this while the sun got lower. It was interesting eating. The meonggae was neither spongy, rubbery nor slimy, and tasted vaguely of abalone, but there was some undercurrent of flavor in there that had an almost bitter, vegetable-like quality. That makes sense, considering. I gulped it down quickly (I was hungry, and it was tasty, and there was only 500 grams of it, all for 10,000 won), then sat and leisurely finished my can of Cass. I had knotted my bandanna around my head in deference to the sweat; I must've looked like an off-duty pirate. I finally got up, walked a kilometer or so back to the Convention Center (and the airport limousine bus stop), and caught the next bus for the Sunbeach Hotel, Seogwipo. And here I am writing to you about it.
Still no word from Patrick. I assume he must've made it to this town just peachy; now it's just a matter of contacting him. In the meantime, I'll think I'll take it easy this evening. It's already far too late (six o'clock) to even think about trying for any of the other stuff I wanted to see in North Jeju, like the lava tubes or the village. I think I'll have to push that back to Sunday. Tomorrow is Hallasan and Jeju City (for the bars on Friday night) and the next day is Jungmun Beach and who knows what-all. Until next time...
3 comments:
A wonderful trip it must have been. I am sitting here in Minnesota reading this, enamored by your ambition and brisk prose . . . a pilot you are. Where on the South Korean mainland have you traveled?
Have you traveled to the mainland during your teaching stint?
It was quite a marvelous trip. Thank you for your kind words. As far as the Korean mainland is concerned, I never saw the DMZ, nor anything north or directly east of Seoul...I saw Seoul once, but mostly stuck to the southern provinces. I traveled all around Gyeongsangnam-do, a little bit in Gyeongsangbuk-do (Gyeongju, ancient capital of the Silla Kingdom)...and a couple of cities in Jeollanam-do in the southwest corner of the peninsula. Have you traveled in Korea?
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