May 1 - 25 (Part 14) From Ancient Clan Villages to Sacred Mountains: Yangdong & Haeinsa

May 15th: From Gyeongju to the Mountains of Gaya

Leaving our hanok stay and our kind hostess, Jeong Hee, after two beautiful days in Gyeongju felt a little sad. But new adventures were waiting.

After a delicious homemade breakfast prepared by our hostess, we checked out and drove to Yangdon Folk Village. The village lies about 16 kilometers northeast of Gyeongju, towards Pohang, along the peaceful Hyeongsangang River.

Yangdong Village is the largest traditional clan village in Korea. More than 150 historic buildings remain here: houses, shrines, pavilions and study halls, all built in the traditional Korean style. The village was founded in the late 15th century by two powerful clans: the Gyeongju Son clan and the Yeoju Yi clan.

What makes this village so special is that it is not a museum, but a living community. Families still live here today, continuing traditions that date back to the Joseon dynasty.

In the Joseon period (1392–1910), clans were structured around a patriarch and his descendants. The main line of first-born male descendants, the “head family”, lived in the clan village. These villages functioned as the centre of Confucian education and ancestral rituals.

Yangdong’s story began when Son So (1433–1484) of the Gyeongju Son clan moved here after marrying a woman from the Pungdeok Ryu clan. Later, when his daughter married Yi Beon (1463–1500) from the Yeoju Yi clan, he also settled in the village. Their descendants would become influential scholars and officials. One of them, Yi Eon-jeok (1491–1553), became one of the most prominent Confucian scholars of the Joseon period.

The head families of these lineages still live in Yangdong Village today, continuing centuries-old traditions.

The layout of the village reflects the social hierarchy of the time. The houses of servants and farmers stand closer to the river and fields at the entrance of the village, while the homes of the upper-class clan members sit higher up the slopes, protected by the mountains.

The buildings themselves are typical for the Gyeongsang-do region: elevated stone foundations, square layouts and quiet inner courtyards.

Walking through Yangdong feels like stepping back several centuries, except that life quietly continues behind the wooden doors.

After wandering through this beautiful ancient village, we continued our journey to our next destination: Seongju, but more specific: Mount Gaya.

Our hotel, Hotel Gaya, was not in the town centre but higher up in the mountains of Gayasan National Park, next to the Gayasan Wildflower Botanical Garden. The drive from Yangdong Village took less than two hours.

Most highways in South Korea are toll roads, usually costing around 5,000 KRW. Driving across the country was fascinating. One moment we passed clusters of incredibly tall apartment buildings rising from the landscape like something out of a dystopian movie. The next moment we were surrounded by lush green mountains.

Eventually, we climbed one of those mountains ourselves. By the time we arrived, it had started raining and clouds were rolling across the slopes. Our hotel was literally inside the clouds. Yet the view from our room was still beautiful.

We decided to walk to a small village, called Gayasan Green Experience Village, about seventeen minutes down the road for dinner. 

The walk was lovely… but when we arrived, the restaurant was closed.

Yes, we probably should have called first.

Still, the walk gave us the chance to explore our surroundings. So we headed back up the mountain and had dinner at the hotel restaurant instead.

At 7 p.m. we seemed to be the only guests in the large restaurant. It almost felt like we had the whole place to ourselves. Instead of feeling lost in the big empty room, we decided to simply order plenty of food.

And what a dinner it turned out to be.

Soon our table was covered with small bowls of delicious dishes, the classic Korean banchan experience. And of course, a bottle of makgeolli was an essential addition.

One of the highlights of the hotel was its natural alkaline sauna, which we definitely had to try. As I mentioned in one of my earlier blogs, saunas in South Korea are separated for men and women.

May 16th: Into Gayasan and the Temple of 80,000 Woodblocks

The next morning we enjoyed another delicious breakfast. Outside, we were still surrounded by clouds. It wasn’t raining yet, but the forecast wasn’t promising.

Our destination for the day was the famous Haeinsa Temple.

The drive through Gayasan National Park was breathtaking. The winding mountain roads were surrounded by lush forests and misty peaks. We stopped several times simply to enjoy the view.

Haeinsa Temple was founded in the year 802 during the Unified Silla period by two monks, Sunung and Ijeong. The name “Haeinsa” refers to Haein Samadhi, a Buddhist philosophical concept that describes the mind as calm water reflecting reality clearly after the storms of life.

For more than a thousand years, the temple has been one of the most important centres of Korean Buddhism.

Haeinsa is most famous for housing the Tripitaka Koreana, the most complete collection of Buddhist scriptures in the world. The texts were carved onto approximately 80,000 wooden blocks between 1237 and 1248.

These woodblocks were created during the Mongol invasions of Korea as a spiritual appeal to the Buddha for protection.

Their craftsmanship is extraordinary. The Chinese characters carved into the wood are so consistent and precise that scholars long believed they must have been carved by a single master.

The wooden blocks are stored in the historic Janggyeong Panjeon buildings, which were added to the UNESCO World Heritage List in 1995.

Because of their priceless value, the buildings are carefully protected with strict climate control, security systems, and fire protection. That meant we couldn’t step inside, so we admired them from behind the wooden bars instead.”

While walking through the temple complex we encountered a statue of Choe Chi-won, a famous Korean scholar, poet and philosopher from the late Silla dynasty.

According to legend, at the end of his life he withdrew from public life and lived as a hermit near Haeinsa, where his brother was the abbot. Local folklore says that he never truly died. Instead, he ascended to heaven on the back of a crane and became an immortal spirit.

The statue beautifully captures this legend: the scholar, the crane behind him and the writing brush symbolising his intellectual legacy.

Another fascinating feature of the temple grounds looks like a maze, but is actually a labyrinth known as the Haeindo, based on the Beopseongge diagram created by the monk Uisang.

Unlike a maze, a labyrinth has only one continuous path. At Haeinsa, the path begins and ends at the same point, symbolising the unity of all things.

The design is based on the poem Beopseongge (“Song of Dharma Nature”), which consists of 210 Chinese characters summarising the essence of Buddhist philosophy.

Pilgrims slowly follow the winding path as a form of walking meditation. With each turn, there are more than fifty, the path encourages you to slow down, focus your mind and reflect on the teachings embodied in the diagram.

Near the labyrinth we discovered a lovely place called the Gugwangru Pavilion Book Cafe.

It’s a peaceful spot where you can enjoy coffee or traditional Korean tea while browsing books about Buddhism and the history of the temple. From the café you can watch people quietly walking the labyrinth. Today, because of the rain, there was only one person walking this labyrinth.

While we were there, someone kindly offered us a warm Korean sweet potato, known as goguma. These sweet potatoes are often roasted, which caramelises the natural sugars and gives them a wonderfully rich flavour.

After exploring the rain-soaked temple grounds, we decided it was time to call it a day.

That evening, we had dinner reservations at Nongga Matjip Wheat, a small restaurant tucked away in the Gayasan Green Experience Village at the foot of Mount Gaya.

Making the reservation had already been an experience in itself. Earlier that morning, just before heading to Haeinsa Temple, we had driven past the restaurant and decided to step inside to ask if they had a table for the evening. Instead of simply reserving a table, we were kindly asked to choose our entire menu on the spot so the owner could prepare everything in advance. It felt a little unexpected, but also wonderfully personal, a quiet reminder of the trust and care that often characterise small local places in Korea.

That evening, with mist hanging over the mountains and rain softly falling, we freshened up in our room before setting off downhill to the restaurant.

What awaited us turned out to be a memorable experience.

As is still common in many traditional Korean restaurants, we removed our shoes at the entrance and walked in our socks to our table. The warm wooden interior felt calm and welcoming and once again, we found ourselves the only guests.

Dinner was absolutely delicious. Every dish felt thoughtfully prepared, comforting and full of flavour. This time, however, we skipped the makgeolli and opted for cold herbal tea instead, a refreshing choice after a long, rain-filled day.

Looking back, these two days felt like a journey through different layers of Korean history and culture. From the centuries-old clan traditions of Yangdong Folk Village to the spiritual tranquility of Haeinsa Temple, every place had its own story to tell.

The rain, the misty mountains of Gayasan National Park, the quiet temple grounds and even the simple sweetness of a warm Korean sweet potato made the experience feel even more special.

With full stomachs and happy hearts, we slowly made our way back up the mountain to our hotel. It was one of those moments when you realise how incredibly rich travelling can be. Not just in places visited, but in stories and memories collected along the way.