May 1 - 25 (Part 9) Jeju Island Continues
What a morning. Wind moved along the coast and clouds drifted across the sky, but every now and then they parted and the sun came back out. The temperature was just right for a long walk along the shoreline of Jeju Island.
“When I am somewhere, I don’t always realize I’m standing in a place filled with history or meaning. Often it is only later, when I scroll through my photos and start looking things up, that the deeper story begins to unfold. The internet makes it so easy to travel back into a moment, to discover what once happened exactly where you were standing. And sometimes that knowledge changes the memory, giving it more weight, more depth. That is why I want to share these stories too and why this walk became more than just a walk of more than 25,000 steps.”
The island counts 27 Olle Trails covering more than 437 kilometers and today we chose a section of the Jeju Olle Trail nr. 7 known as the Ilgangjeong Badan Route (일강정 바당 올레 길). It is the route nearest to the coastline.
I’ll be honest: walking on paved paths is fine. Walking through bushes while imagining tiny ticks crawling onto you? Less fine.
Back home in the Netherlands I’ve already hosted a few of those uninvited guests on my body (thankfully without consequences), so the thought made me shiver a little. But the day was too beautiful to let fear win.
So off we went.
Between bushes, bridges and black lava
From our hotel we headed straight to the sea, turned right and simply followed the coastline. The route quickly alternated between paved paths, rocky passages, wooden bridges over little streams and narrow tracks where we had to walk behind each other.
We barely met anyone. One or two hikers passed us from the opposite direction, that was it. It felt wonderfully remote.
Some of the rocky trails ended at black lava beaches. Because the tide was low, we could carefully hop from stone to stone, with in front of us the view of Seogeondo Island resting in the blue water.
After about an hour we reached Akgeuncheon Stream (악근천). Crossing wasn’t possible, so we made a small detour inland and used the Yakgeun Bridge (약근교).
This walk carried us uphill, all the way to Kensington Resort Seogwipo. After the rugged coastline, the area around the resort felt neat and relaxed, with walking paths and a wide open view over the ocean. From here the sea seemed endless, the horizon sharp in the clear weather.
It was the perfect excuse to pause for a bit.
From the park we watched a huge cruise ship glide toward Gangjeong Port (강정포구), a tiny pilot boat guiding the giant safely to shore. Another world arriving on our quiet walking day.
White wings in the stream
After soaking in the peaceful beauty of the park, we made our way back toward the bridge. Our next destination was waiting for us: Jeongbang Waterfall (정방폭포).
But before we even reached the bridge, something below us in the stream caught our attention.
A whole group of white egrets had gathered in the shallow water.
I stopped immediately. Moments like that demand photographs. Some stood perfectly still, like delicate sculptures placed with intention. Others moved slowly and carefully through the stream, as if they had all the time in the world. The water rippled gently around their thin legs and everything felt calm, unhurried.
Such a beautiful sight. These are the unexpected gifts you receive when you travel without rushing. When you allow space in your day, nature quietly steps forward.
Eventually, we continued toward the bridge. Walking to Jeongbang would have taken more than two and a half hours. The bus we had planned to take had just left and the next one would still take about 45 minutes. Our legs actually felt surprisingly good, but we knew we still had a full afternoon of hiking ahead of us.
Sometimes it’s not about whether you can walk, it’s about choosing where to spend your energy.
So we decided to take an Uber.
A small car pulled up, driven by a middle-aged woman dressed in colorful clothes, bright, practical, layered fabrics like I’ve seen many middle-aged women wear here in South Korea. It was actually the first time in my life (I think) that I had a female taxi driver. She was wearing neat hand gloves while driving, which struck me as quite extraordinary. Not winter gloves, just simple driving gloves. Practical. Protective. Intentional.
She drove calmly and confidently through Seogwipo’s winding roads. I found myself quietly smiling. Earlier that day, we had been walking through landscapes shaped by lava and water. Later, we would stand before the statue of the legendary Haenyeo, women who dive into the sea with nothing but their breath.
And here I was, sitting in a taxi driven by another woman, navigating asphalt instead of ocean, steering wheels instead of tides.
Different generations. Different elements. But the same quiet strength.
Twenty minutes later, she dropped us off at the entrance of Jeongbang Waterfall. We stepped out, ready for the next chapter of the day.
Where water meets tragedy and legend
Jeongbang is spectacular.
Water crashes down a 23-meter cliff almost directly into the ocean. Something you don’t see in many places in the world. Its source is the Donhongcheon stream and the falls are counted among the most scenic natural wonders of Jeju. Together with Cheonjiyeon Waterfall (which we will see later on) and Cheonjeyeon Waterfall, it forms the trio of the island’s most famous cascades.
According to legend, a holy dragon once lived beneath the water. The spirit of the dragon was said to cure illness and bring rain in times of drought.
But this place also carries a far heavier history. During the 1948 Jeju uprising, civilians were executed near the falls and their bodies were thrown over the cliff into the sea. Tens of thousands of people lost their lives in that violent period. Reading about it while standing there, hearing the water thunder down, gave the beauty a different weight.
It is breathtaking and heartbreaking at the same time.
Of course we took photos, like everyone else. But quietly.
Back on the Olle Trail
After visiting the waterfall, we decided to walk back to our hotel via part of Olle Trail nr. 6 along the coast. That turned out to be a wonderful decision.
The path kept changing: up, down, rough, smooth. Each turn offering a new perspective over the sea. The weather stayed perfect. Honestly, it was almost showing off.
We climbed upward into Sonam Meori (소남머리) park, where we could see the small island of Seopseom (섶섬) floating offshore.
A little further we were in Jaguri Park (자구리공원), where a concrete tidal pool fills itself with fresh seawater when the tide rises. And then we heard music.
The hands of Lee Jung-seop
Near a striking metal artwork by Jeong Mi-jin there was a wooden stage where a dance group of middle-aged women was rehearsing together.
Most of them were dressed in black, which made the bright, colourful ribbons in their hands stand out even more. With every movement, the ribbons fluttered and curled through the sea air, looping and swirling like strokes of paint against the blue backdrop of ocean and sky.
They moved in unison, counting softly, repeating sequences again and again. No audience. No spotlight. Just focus. Discipline. Dedication.
I loved how seriously they practiced.
Earlier that afternoon, we had been driven by a confident female taxi driver, her colourful clothes and careful gloves leaving a quiet impression on me. Later, we would stand before the statue of the legendary Haenyeo, women who dive into cold waters with nothing but their breath and experience.
And here, once again, were women, not diving, not driving, but rehearsing. Claiming space. Moving with intention. Supporting one another.
Different settings. Different roles. But the same quiet strength.
It wasn’t something loudly announced. It simply revealed itself throughout the day, like a theme I hadn’t planned to notice. But once seen, couldn’t unsee.
The sculpture shows the hands of painter Lee Jung-seop, holding his canvas, with the sea behind him.
Lee Jung-seop (1916-1956) was one of Korea’s most beloved artists. His life story is one of love and unbearable distance.
Because of the war and extreme poverty, he had to send his Japanese wife and their two sons back to Japan. He wrote to them constantly, sometimes every three days, filling his letters with drawings, longing and sentences like “I miss you so much I can hardly endure a single day.”
He painted powerful images of cows, children, everyday life, works that became milestones in Korean modern art. Yet, his personal life remained marked by separation, illness and hardship. In 1956 he died alone in a hospital in Seoul.
And still we weren’t done… we continued walking toward Seogwipo Port (서귀포항), following the coastline back in the direction of our hotel, The Grand Sumorum.
On our way back: Olle Trail nr. 6 to 7
We were on our way back to the hotel, walking toward Seogwipo Port. It was still Saturday, which probably explains why the docks felt so quiet. Fishing boats rested peacefully in the harbour, gently rocking on the water as if the entire port had decided to take the day off with us.
In the background, the elegant silhouette of the Saeyeongyo Bridge immediately caught our attention. With its striking sail-shaped design, it almost looks like a ship permanently anchored between land and sea. The bridge leads to Saeseom Island and is the longest pedestrian bridge in Jeju.
Completed in 2009, Saeyeongyo (새연교) translates beautifully to ‘a bridge creating new relationships’. Its design was inspired by the traditional Jeju wooden fishing boat, the Teu, giving it both symbolic meaning and architectural grace. At night, the bridge lights up in colorful illuminations that shimmer on the water. No wonder it’s one of Seogwipo’s most photographed landmarks.
A Hidden Surprise: Cheonjiyeon Waterfall
While wandering around the harbour, we entered a large parking area, curious about what it was for. At the back, we discovered the entrance to a vast park. For 2,000 won per person, we gained access not only to a forest, but also to one of Jeju’s famous waterfalls:
Cheonjiyeon Waterfall (천지연폭포)
And yes… it was absolutely worth it.
We first walked through a lush subtropical forest before reaching a stunning U-shaped valley embracing the falls. This valley was formed by block faulting and is home to a rich diversity of plants and animals that thrive in Jeju’s mild climate.
One remarkable resident is the Giant Mottled Eel, locally called ‘bungae’. Recognizable by its reddish-brown, cloud-like patterns and small spots, it can grow up to two meters long and weigh as much as 20 kilograms. Imagining such creatures beneath the surface adds something mysterious to the serene setting.
We spent nearly an hour strolling through this beautiful forest, soaking in the atmosphere before continuing our journey.
Beomseom (범섬) Island: The Mysterious Tiger Island
We attempted to follow the coastline, but it quickly became too rocky. But before we turned around we stopped because we were rewarded with a spectacular view of Beomseom.
Also known as Tiger Island, Beomseom lies about five kilometers southwest of Seogwipo Harbour. Its name comes from its resemblance to a crouching tiger. The island is uninhabited, mysterious and strikingly beautiful. It features two coastal erosion caves: one with a cathedral-like arch visible from the south.
Okay, up, up we went, following the winding curves of Namseongjung-ro. With every step higher, we looked back over Seogwipo Harbour, the boats now smaller, the water wider and in the distance the silhouette of Munseom (문섬) Island slowly appearing. At first, we couldn’t even see it, it hides just behind Saeseom Island, but as our perspective changed, the island revealed itself. Sometimes you simply need to climb a little to see what was there all along.
Reconnecting with Olle Trail nr. 7
At a roundabout, we headed toward the sea again, determined to reconnect with Olle Trail nr. 7 at the Hwangui Coast.
One of the things I love most about long walks like this is taking photos along the way. They become little anchors in time. When I sat down later to write this blog, those images guided me back to the exact spots where we stood. I could almost feel the breeze again and hear the waves below.
Before reaching the water, we descended via a newly built wooden trail with steep stairs leading down to the shore. So we carefully made our way down and rejoined the beautiful wooden pathways of Olle Trail nr. 7.
The sea view was breathtaking. Munseom appeared clearly again, accompanied by its tiny neighbour often called Baby Munseom. Yes, we were definitely on the right track toward our hotel.
It was already 5 p.m., but the sun was still shining brightly. Looking back, we could see Saeyeongyo Bridge leading to Saeseom Island and to the right Munseom rising from the sea.
We were heading toward one of Jeju’s most iconic sights:
Oedolgae (외돌개) Rock
Meaning ‘Lonely Rock’, Oedolgae is a dramatic sea stack rising about 20 meters above the ocean and measuring 7-10 meters wide. Formed around 1,5 million years ago during a volcanic eruption, relentless waves eroded the softer surrounding rock, leaving this striking pillar standing alone against Seogwipo’s rugged coastline.
It is also known as ‘General Rock’ (장군바위) and ‘Grandmother Rock’ (할망바위), names rooted in local folklore and Jeju’s rich storytelling tradition.
A Hanbok Moment (and a Curious Bird)
Along the wooden trail, we came across one of those playful cut-out boards showing a woman in hanbok without a face: perfect for stepping behind and taking a photo.
Of course I had to do it.
But just before I did, a small black bird landed on top of the board, holding a worm in its beak, casually observing its surroundings as if it owned the place. I couldn’t resist capturing that moment first.
Sometimes the unexpected makes the best memory.
Soggol and the Women of the Sea
From Oedolgae we wandered along the coastline, moving up and down the rocky paths, taking in every curve of the shore and the endless sea views. At one point, we had to veer slightly inland to navigate around a private property, but even that small detour offered glimpses of hidden paths and quiet corners.
At around 6:30 p.m., we arrived at Soggol (속골), a charming seaside conservancy area framed by tall, swaying palm trees. Unsurprisingly, the road running through it is called Palmtree Road (야자수동산). It felt like stepping into a postcard.
After strolling along Palmtree Road, we still had to walk about half an hour to reach our hotel. Just nearby, in a small harbour, we spotted a statue honoring the legendary women of Jeju:
The Haenyeo (핸여)
The Haenyeo, ‘sea women’, who dive into the ocean for their livelihood, guided by breath, experience and courage.
The first records of Haenyeo catching abalone date back to 1629. Imagine diving into the sea in 1629, without modern equipment.
Until the 1970’s, these women dove all day wearing only cotton garments (mulsojungi), without proper caps of wetsuits. Wetsuits arrived much later.
While women on mainland Korea traditionally focused on household responsibilities, Jeju women often carried both the domestic and economic burden. For a long time, there were simply more women than men on the island. Later, historical events such as the Korean War pushed many women further into economic activity.
The Haenyeo trained through years of shared experience. There are three levels of mastery: Sanggun, Junggun and Hagun, achieved through skil and dedication.
Today, their tradition is recognized worldwide as a unique cultural heritage.
Standing there, I felt the weight of history and the quiet strength of generations. The Haenyeo embody resilience, independence and determination. And suddenly the palmlined road, the soft light and the rhythmic lapping of the waves felt like part of the same story.
The remaining steps to our hotel felt lighter, almost ceremonial, as if each stride was connected not just to the path, but to the women, the sea and the stories this island carries. By the time we reached our hotel, more than 25,000 steps later, my body felt pleasantly tired, but my mind felt wide awake.
May 10 had started with lava paths and waterfalls, with letters filled with love and it slowly unfolded into something deeper. Quiet harbours. Hidden islands revealing themselves when we climbed a little higher. White egrets standing patiently in shallow water. A taxi ride with a woman in colourful clothes and careful gloves. Ribbons dancing against the sea breeze. And the enduring presence of the Haenyeo, women who have shaped this island with breath, resilience and saltwater courage.
It wasn’t just a day of landscapes. It was a day of layers. Strength in softness. Movement in stillness. Women, on roads, on stages, in the sea, quietly carrying worlds.
And as the sun slowly prepared to set over Seogwipo, I realized that sometimes a place doesn’t just show you its scenery, it shows you its soul. On an island shaped by fire and water, I found stories shaped by women.
Back in our room we were unpacking our thoughts and photos from the day. Just in time we headed downstairs for dinner. A perfect ending to a day brimming with discovery, quiet reflections and small moments that linger long after the sun has set.
Comments
Post a Comment