May 1 - 25 (Part 16) From Mountains to Sea; Finding Stillness in Yangyang
18th May: From Mountains to the Sea
A Last Glimpse
One last look from our room at Hotel Richell… and then it was time to move on.
After spending time inland, it was finally time to set our sails toward the seaside again.
For the next few days, Yangyang, on South Korea’s North-East coast, would be our home. We had booked a stay at Naksan Beach Hotel and the promise of a sea view was something to look forward to.
The Journey North
The drive north, about three and a half hours, turned out to be an experience in itself.
Under a bright blue sky, we made our way through a landscape of lush green mountains. Tunnel after tunnel followed, yet none of them felt dull. Some played music beneath our tyres as we drove, while others lit up in shifting colors, even rainbow lights, transforming the journey into something surprisingly playful.
Here a video with the music of the tyres:
And a video of coming in/out tunnel:
Around lunchtime, we stopped at a large highway service area. It felt more like a lively marketplace than a simple rest stop. There were shops selling everything from food and drinks to clothes and accessories.
One of the most memorable sights was a robotic barista, complete with a funny face and a wink, its eyes even turning into two hearts, an amusing mix of technology and charm. This made ordering coffee into a unique experience.
Small Moments on the Road
Surrounded by mountains, we found a scenic photo spot framed perfectly for travellers. I asked someone to take a picture of us. It was one of those small but meaningful moments that capture the joy of being on the road together.
Driving through this beautiful, green and mountainous country filled me with a deep sense of gratitude. Maybe it was the sunshine, maybe the scenery. But mostly, it was the realization of how fortunate I am to experience this journey.
Arrival by the Sea
Around 3:30 p.m., we arrived at our hotel. And the view did not disappoint. A room with a sea view, just as promised.
With time still on our side, we headed straight to the beach for a relaxing evening walk. The sound of the waves and the fresh sea air welcomed us instantly.
Later, we went looking for dinner and ended up at a local spot: Naksan Sea Sashimi Village Restaurant. It wasn’t very busy, but everything looked fresh and inviting. We chose grilled fish with rice, accompanied by a bottle of makgeolli. Simple, fresh and exactly what we needed.
In South Korea, “grilled fish” isn’t quite what we’d expect in the Netherlands. What’s called grilled fish there is actually closer to what we would describe as fried fish. Back home, fried fish is usually a thick fillet, like cod, so you get a lot of meat. In South Korea, however, the fish is often much thinner and cooked whole or in slimmer cuts, so it’s less meaty and has a different texture altogether. On every menu we came across, “grilled fish” turned out to be this style of fried, thinner fish, which was a surprising but interesting difference.
A young waiter approached us during dinner. Originally from India, he studied and lived in Sokcho, but worked here at the restaurant. He warmly recommended that we visit Sokcho in the evening, if we had time. It was only a fifteen minute drive away. Since we would be staying in Yangyang for a few days, we decided to add it to our plans.
After a short walk back to the hotel, we called it a day.
19th May: A Day of Stillness and Reflection
Good morning, Yangyang… the sun was shining and the day felt like the perfect day for a temple visit.
Like most mornings during this trip, we started our day quietly in our hotel room with a small breakfast. Nothing fancy, just simple and peaceful, a gentle way to begin the day.
Naksan-sa Temple
Just around the corner from our hotel lay Naksan-sa Temple, beautifully located between the mountains and the sea.
From the moment we entered the temple grounds, there was a noticeable stillness in the air. It felt as if time slowed down, inviting us to move more gently, more consciously. Even the slightly rising paths encouraged us to take our time.
This ancient temple was built in the 11th year of King Munmu’s reign of Silla (671) by the Buddhist monk Uisang. Naksansa Temple is one of the foremost sights of Yangyang and one of the most historic sites in the region. Its handsome view overlooking the East Sea has earned it a spot in the Eight Sights of Gwandong (eight famous sights in Yeongdong region of Gangwon-do), documented throughout the ages in many classic literature and poetry.
Today’s Naksansa Temple is a product of many restorations and expansions and has many examples of cultural heritage within its walls, including a 16 meter-tall statue of the Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva. A mountain fire in 2005 resulted in the loss of 20 buildings, including the building that housed its bronze bell.
A Poem Without End
Inside the Uisang Memorial Hall we came across something quietly profound.
A familiar pattern, one I had seen before at Haeinsa, appeared again: a flowing, continuous diagram symbolizing the interconnectedness of all things. Uisang’s Ocean Seal Diagram.
It is more than a design. It is a philosophy. A reminder that nothing exists in isolation.
Standing there, it felt like a shift in perspective. Where we often divide and label the world, this idea suggests something entirely different. That everything is part of one continuous whole.
The diagram has no true beginning or end… just like life itself.
Through the paintings, this philosophy came alive. The abstract became a journey. The symbol became something human. It showed how meaning is not only something we understand, but something we experience as we move through life.
In a way, it felt like a quiet reminder during my travels, not just to observe what is around me, but to recognise how I am part of it too.
Compassion by the Sea
Outside again, we were met by an unforgettable sight: a large statue of Avalokitesvara, gazing out over the sea.
Avalokitesvara is one of the most beloved and significant figures in Buddhism. Known as the Bodhisattva of Compassion, the name literally translates from Sanskrit to “The Lord Who Looks Down” (with pity or concern) upon the suffering of the world.
Two women sat in front of it, praying softly. Still, focused, almost part of the landscape itself. Their presence felt deeply grounding.
In South Korea, it’s common for two friends, often “prayer partners”, to commit to a 100-day prayer cycle together. They sit in the same spot at the same time every day. Seeing them sitting there in silence with their papers in front of them, makes them a “living part” of the temple’s energy. To a passersby, they look like part of the monument because their concentration is so deep they barely move.
There was something beautiful in the contrast. The vast, infinite compassion represented by the statue and the small, personal hopes held by the two women.
Moments in Between
We took a break at a café belonging to the temple, where warm wooden interiors and a sea view created a peaceful setting. Sitting on the floor in traditional style, we sipped our coffee slowly. One of those moments where time seems to pause.
We left the temple grounds and walked slowly downhill to the beach. The coastline stretched endlessly and we followed it as far as we could, until the sea gradually reclaimed the land.
Along the way, we passed two statues of children, symbolizing the hardships of the 1950’s: a quiet and emotional reminder of the past.
At the far end, a fisherman stood by the water, casting his net into the sea. There was something timeless about that image: simple, patient and deeply connected to nature.
One of my favorite touches: air-blowing stations on the beach, so you can say goodbye to stubborn sand on your clothes, feet and shoes.
On our way back, we wanted to go to the small harbor below our hotel. There we watched boats gently move with the rhythm of the water. It felt like a soft return from a day filled with reflection.
An Evening in Sokcho
That evening, we followed the recommendation from the night before and drove to Sokcho. We parked our car near the beach, where we had dinner and took a quiet walk along the shore.
It was only a short visit, but a lovely one.
And just like that, the day came to a close. Just as it had begun: in calmness, in stillness and with a quiet sense of gratitude.
Reflective Outro: The Space Between Moments
Looking back on these two days, what stays with me most are not just the places, but the feeling in between.
The road through the mountains.
The silence of the temple.
The rhythmn of the sea.
It made me realise how easily we rush through experiences, always moving toward the next destination. But here, in these moments, there was space.
Space to pause. To observe. To feel.
And maybe that is what travel truly gives us… not just new places, but a different way of being within them.
A reminder that we are not separate from what we see, but quietly part of it all.
20th May: A Day by the Sea
Slow Mornings & Soft Sunlight
What a beautiful morning it was.
The kind of morning that doesn’t ask for plans… only presence. With the sun already warming the day, it felt like the perfect excuse to do nothing at all… except head to the beach.
A Lazy Beach Day
The hours unfolded slowly, just as they should.
There’s something about the sea that makes time feel different. We spent the day simply ‘being’, listening to the waves, feeling the warmth of the sun and letting everything else drift into the background.
The sea wasn’t quite as inviting as it looked. The water was still a little too cold to fully give in to. So instead, we stayed on the shore, enjoying the view, the breeze and the calm.
At some point, we wandered back to the hotel for a relaxed lunch. Nothing rushed, nothing planned. Just moving with the rhythm of the day.
And then, of course… back to the beach.
An Easy Evening
As the day softened into evening, we stayed close to where we were. Just down the road from our hotel, we returned to a restaurant we had noticed the night before: Gangju. The lively atmosphere had caught our attention and now it felt like the perfect place to end the day.
Dinner was simple, satisfying and exactly right for the moment.
And to complete this lazy beach day, we shared a bottle of makgeolli: slightly sparkling, gently sweet and best enjoyed without hurry.
Mini Reflection: The Beauty of Doing Nothing
Some days are not meant to be filled.
No sightseeing. No schedules. No need to capture or explain.
Just sun on your skin, sand beneath your feet and the quiet realization that this, too, is a meaningful part of the journey.
Because sometimes, the most memorable moments are the ones where nothing much happens at all.
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