Finding Serenity in Korea- Yellow Sea Island Biking

Our initial plan was to take a weekend biking tour of Seonyudo and the surrounding islands off the coast of Gunsan in the Yellow Sea with a large tour group. However, once we finally got around to registering online, all of the seats had been reserved.

We decided to try it on our own, and couldn't have been more pleased with the outcome. This was easily my favorite weekend spent in Korea so far, not only because of the unique location and picturesque scenery, but because, for the first time, we were able to shake the endless noise of bumpy crowds and find peace in our adopted country.

To reach our island getaway, we rose at 5:00 a.m. and caught the bus to Express Bus Terminal in Seoul where we bought a ticket for Gunsan. We met two of our friends in Guri (where we live) and two more at Express Bus Terminal. Three of our friends are teachers around the same area we live in, and the other is a Korean pharmacist. All four are female, laid back, easy to get along with and as happy as we were to be escaping the city.

The ride from Seoul to Gunsan took about 4 hours. Halfway down, we stopped at one of the famous, bustling rest stops, and I became drawn to a miniature military doll that danced and played music on top of a food cart.

In Gunsan, we took the taxi to a ferry to the islands. The ferry left at 12:30, and we got to the islands somewhere between 1:30 and 2:00. We should have been tipped off to the fact that we were pretty much going to have the islands to ourselves. The ferry was nearly empty. (That is our friend Jessica behind me in the picture below)

The ride from our ferry to the pension (motel) was kind of interesting. The owners had arranged for us to be picked up, and by picked up I mean thrown in the back of a van to sit on our luggage. I cowered down on the floor and hid myself, pretending to be an illegal crossing the Rio Grande.

Our pension (pictured below) cost 70,000 wan, or roughly $10 USD each. We rented bikes for the same price (for 24 hours use) and rode off to first explore Seonyudo Island- the island we would be staying on.

Bicycling was a liberating experience. One of the things I miss most about home is being able to get in a car and drive anywhere. Not having a vehicle has been a pretty easy transition, but I can't wait to get behind the wheel again.

It didn't hurt that the weather was spectacular as well. This winter Korea received more snow than any other year in the past 100. It snowed 8 inches one night in March, just a few weeks before this trip. The cold Siberian winds had been relentless since November so the mild 50-60 degree weather on this trip felt downright balmy.

I have never been a huge biker. I think I was 9 or 10 when I first learned how to ride, which is pretty embarrassing. I remember falling and getting a rock stuck in my hand.

Despite my status as a relatively novice cyclist, I managed quite well. I fiercely tackled steep inclines and pedaled circles around the all-girl crew. One of our friends from New York City rode around very shakily at first. She had learned to ride as an adult, and was lacking a little confidence. I had fun barreling toward her at top speed and abruptly slamming home the breaks inches from colliding.

After exploring Seonyudo, we pedaled uphill and over a magnificent bridge to Jangja-Do Island.

At the top of one of the cliffs, I found a nice grassy spot to take a nap. Before I dozed off, I took a final gaze out at the seaweed farms and marveled at just how far away I was from Oregon. Then, dreamytime.

At sundown we retreated to our pension where the girls (minus Sami) cooked up a delicious hodgepodge of foods foreign to Korea- A seven bean soup and a pesto pasta with vegetables and tomato sauce. We even had tuna salad with mayonaisse. Mayonaisse I tell you!

Someone had recently been to Costco and scored a big box of cookies- the kind with 3 varieties: chocolate chip, oatmeal, and white chocolate macadamia nut. As the official cookie judge, I inhaled one of each and instantly declared oatmeal raisin the winner. 

If my 9 year old self could have peered into the future, he would have been mortified and probably start to question whether it was worth it to carry on with life. What kid in their right mind would ever choose oatmeal raisin over chocolate chip? Well, I must tell you little Joey, that your taste buds will develop someday and you will begin to know the joy of butter and cinnamon. You will know happiness when you squish the greasy oatmeal goo around in your mouth along with the sweet and sour burst of raisin, and it will be good.

The next morning I rose early, back and hip bones sore from tossing around on the hard, heated floor, and searched the island for an outdoor restroom. I had no intention of stinking up the bathroom that five girls were soon to alternately occupy. 

Even with our crappy camera, I was pleased with a couple of pictures I took of the island in the early morning as I searched for a port-a-pooper.

 

After an oatmeal cookie breakfast, we rode out to explore Munyeo and Sinshi Do Island. We visited with a group of oyster shuckers, and later with a Korean couple clamming in the wet sand. We cheered them on as they performed their choreographed ritual. The husbnd would rake back the wet sand with a garden spade to reveal small holes the clams use to breathe. Then, he would pour salt into the hole. After a few seconds, a skinny, brownish, razor-like clam would emerge like Carrie's hand from the grave. The wife would swiftly pluck the clam out of the ground and toss it a bag with the others.

 

Further on down the road, we came across a school playground. There was a basketball hoop a few inches higher than 7 feet, so I found an abandoned ball and flushed it down hard with two hands like I was Dwight Howard. I did that a few times and experimented with different celebratory dances. I banged two balled fists on my skull like I was Darius Miles. I mean mugged Sami as if I were K.G. I eventually settled on placing my hand on top of my head with fingers extended in the air, calling it "the shark."

 

After a few more dunks and a spin on the merry-go-round it was time to soak up the scenery on the way back to the pension. Good-bye peace and calm, hello pushy subway riders and neon lights. I will consciously neglect the details from our return to the city. Lets just say it was about seven hours too long. 

It is better to focus only on what a great experience we had at Seonyudo Island. I would like to hope that someday we can go back to shuck oysters, dig for clams and bike around eating oatmeal cookies from Costco again, but somehow I feel it just won't be the same. There might be a big tour group staying in our pension, pounding the soju and disrupting what should always be a quiet, relaxing island ride.