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Cameron Dueck

The colours dazzle under the midday sun, even through squinting eyes.
Aqua blue sea, sparkling and dancing with the waves, a bright baby blue where the sea floor turns to sand, a deeper marine hue where the water deepens. The sea tears itself into dashes of foam along the shore, surprising me as the white rears up and falls with a whoosh right next to my wheels.
Then the volcanic basalt, jagged and hot as it absorbs the sun’s rays, stretches clean and black as far as the eye can see. Finally, the lush green vegetation, buzzing with insect song and dappled with pink flowers, appears impenetrable in its unchecked growth.
Cutting through those colours – beside the green, sometimes into the black and so close to the aquamarines that the white sprays against our hot skin – is a pale blue line painted on the road that rings Jeju, leading cyclists around Korea’s tourist paradise.

My partner and I are riding rented mountain bikes around the island, which sits just off the south coast of South Korea. We have chosen to take our time on a 234km ride that should, it is suggested, take three to four days. By exploring side roads and lingering over roadside coffee breaks, our loop will stretch to more than 260km, spread out over six days.
We encounter groups of students, senior couples and solo riders on the Jeju Fantasy Bicycle Path, marked by the blue line. Some ride speedy carbon road racers or expensive folding bikes brought along as luggage, others electric bikes that make the circumnavigation faster and easier. But most, like us, have basic mountain bikes from one of Jeju’s many rental shops.
We also pass people who have opted for an even slower mode of transport, walkers following the Jeju Olle Trail, a 437km network of footpaths that overlaps the bike route in places and skirts some of the island’s most scenic beaches and villages.
We begin our ride in Jeju City, halfway along the northern coast, and travel the island in a counter-clock­wise direction, to remain on the ocean side of the road.

Within a few hours we have left the city traffic behind, but are still in the thick of Jeju’s tourist jungle. The entire north coast is built up with hotels, restaurants and tourist attractions, serving the more than 13 million visitors that arrive each year. Dozens of white wind turbines spin across the horizon, hinting at the winds we will encounter on our ride.
On our second day, we round the western end of the island and begin to escape the tourist sprawl, the blue line leading us through small fishing villages in which the handrails around the ports double as squid drying racks, and past tidy fields planted with onions and cabbages.
Inland, the effects of volcanoes that formed some 1.8 million years ago are still evident. Hallasan, at 1,947 metres South Korea’s tallest mountain, is nearly always visible along our route, but it is the 360 satellite volcanoes, known locally as oreum, that make Jeju’s landscape unique. The peaks, most only a few hundred metres tall, dot the interior, creating small parklands filled with hiking trails and wildlife.
As we pedal around to the south side we are surrounded by orchards and valleys full of greenhouses, in which the island’s famous tangerines are ripening. The air is scented by the farms raising the black pork that draws tourists to Jeju’s barbecue restaurants.
Folklore claims the island has three abundances: wind, rocks and women, and it is the third, embodied by female divers, or haenyeo, who are the real stars of Jeju.
Haenyeo dive, without scuba gear, for abalone, sea urchins and other seafood. Although they have played a key role in the island’s semi-matriarchal culture and economy for many decades, few younger women are joining the profession, meaning most haenyeo are of retirement age. They have, however, been immortalised in numerous films and books, such as Lisa See’s The Island of Sea Women (2019), and are a key tourist draw.
The haenyeo, and their diving associations, played a central role in organising Jeju’s resistance to Japanese colonial rule (1910-1945), then against United States intervention in creating a South Korean state after World War II. The bloody history of resistance and oppression may not lure as many tourists as do tangerines and black pork, but it forms the foundation of how islanders see themselves. The Jeju 4·3 Peace Park, a large stone monument, a museum and landscaped grounds designed for quiet reflection, does an excellent job of telling the story of the uprising that took place from April 3, 1948, to May 13, 1949.

Thousands of people were jailed, tortured and killed by government forces during the Jeju Uprising, and the truth was heavily censored by South Korea’s military government until civilian rule was reinstated in the 1990s. Seven mass graves were excavated, including one near the Jeju International Airport, uncovering the remains of 400 people.
While many tourists are unaware of the tragedy that took place near where they step onto the island, the people of Jeju haven’t forgotten, proudly seeing themselves as rebels who won’t bend to outside powers. They also still speak their own language, Jejuan, which differs enough from standard Korean to keep mainlanders guessing at the islanders’ inside jokes.
The remaining haenyeo now focus on more peaceful work, and as we cycle along the coast, the women are active everywhere in the shallows, often showing only a pair of flippers as they dive under the surface. Their bulteok, rough lava-stone shelters used to convene and change clothes, are visible along the shore.

Just in case we miss seeing a real live haenyeo, the coastline is dotted with statues of the women, romanticised with swollen breasts and hips, wading out of the sea. At the eastern end of the island is the Jeju Haenyeo Museum, where dioramas and recreations of their village homes depict the hard lives they have lived.
The blue line makes navigation easy; the route typically follows the road nearest the shore, so when we do lose sight of the marker, we simply head towards the sea until we find it again. We soon learn, however, that the blue line does not designate a dedicated cycling lane. Sometimes, it forces us to share the road with vehicular traffic, other times we find ourselves dodging pedestrians on the pavement. The line cuts straight through bus shelters and is occasionally blocked by parked cars. Using navigation apps such as Naver and Kakao helps us create our own route when the blue line fails us.
We also quickly learn about Jeju’s weather, which is volatile and unpredictable. It’s early June and we are lucky to experience only one day of rain – the wet season begins in mid-June and lasts through much of July – but we do get a taste of the island’s wind, which forces us to fight for every kilometre on several days.
Haenyeo are active everywhere in the shallows, often showing only a pair of flippers as they dive under the surface

The cycle route is lined with so many chic cafes, many with towering windows overlooking the sea, that we are rarely further than a few hundred metres from our next potential coffee stop. In between is a steady supply of convenience stores that, we quickly discover, sell kimbap, or Korean sushi rolls, which make for a perfect takeaway lunch.
But there is also a large number of shuttered cafes, hotels and rental villas. Shopkeepers tell us that although domestic tourism boomed during the pandemic, prompting a wave of new construction, the flow of visitors has ebbed since, and many business owners have chosen to shut up shop rather than compete for the dwindling amount of tourist won.

After several days of slow riding and sightseeing along the south coast we arrive at Seopjikoji, a scenic cape that juts out of eastern Jeju. Given our relaxed pace, we have the energy necessary to hike up the 182-metre-high Seongsan Ilchulbong Tuff Cone, created by submarine magma flows more than 5,000 years ago.
It is the penultimate day of our trip when we join throngs of tourists on a large ferry destined for the small island of Udo (“cow island”), a name derived from its profile when viewed from afar. Udo, however, has been enveloped in heavy fog for hours, another feature of Jeju’s variable weather, confining the ferry at the dock in Seongsan Port. Luckily, the fog lifts within half an hour and we are able to safely make the 15-minute crossing.
It takes us only a few hours to make a lap of Udo, including a stop to sample ice cream made with locally grown peanuts, but the intensity of the tourism sell on Udo is worse than we’ve seen on the main island, so we are soon back on the ferry to Jeju.
We have been booking accommodation on a day-to-day basis, depending on the weather, the number of kilometres we feel like riding that day and the sights we plan to seek out. Our last night’s lodgings are in a simple but elegant rental house in Jongdal-ri.
The village, just inland at the east end of Jeju, doesn’t look promising at first glance, but then we take a walk down the olle, or narrow stone-walled pathways, which are painted with bright images of local flora and fauna, and hide small ceramics studios and galleries. Discreet restaurants and homestays are tucked in between vegetable gardens and racks of drying fishing nets.

At the rustic little wine shop Jongdal Blanc, we order a glass to enjoy in the owner’s garden. Jusil Jeon lives next door, but comes over to pick blueberries and other fruit from the trees in the garden, adding them to our cheese platter. One or two other customers come and go, but the shop isn’t busy.
“Jongdal-ri is quiet and slow, that’s why I choose to live here,” says Jeon. “It isn’t popular like other places in Jeju. Not many visitors know about it.”
But now we know. And so do you.


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Asia travel

A 260km cycling journey around Jeju through volcanic landscapes and fishing villages

A cyclist follows the blue line that marks the Jeju Fantasy Bicycle Path, which circumnavigates the South Korean island. Photo: Cameron Dueck

Squid drying on handrails around the port in a Jeju fishing village. Photo: Cameron Dueck

Small villages and farmland line the black basalt shores of Jeju Island. Photo: Cameron Dueck

The museum in the Jeju 4.3 Peace Park helps tell the story of the island’s political uprising. Photo: Cameron Dueck

The Jeju bicycle route is marked by a blue line, making navigation easy. Photo: Cameron Dueck

Women divers, or haenyeo, set out to dive without scuba gear in search of abalone, sea urchins and other seafood  near the Seongsan Ilchulbong Tuff Cone. Photo: Shutterstock

Jeju Island’s coastline is dotted with statues of haenyeo. Photo: Shutterstock

Mix martial arts with meditation at a South Korean temple retreat

Master Hyunwoong (front) and volunteers give a Seonmudo demonstration at the Golgulsa Temple near Gyeongju, South Korea. Photo: Fiona Ching

A painting of a seonmudo master adorns a temple window. Photo: Fiona Ching

Master Hyunwoong and temple volunteers give a seonmudo demonstration. Photo: Fiona Ching

The seonmudo practice sessions feel a bit like yoga classes, involving as they do a series of stretches and poses. Photo: Cameron Dueck

The Woljeonggyo Bridge, in the ancient Korean capital of Gyeongju, helps tell the story of the Silla dynasty. Photo: Cameron Dueck

The Golgulsa Temple is lit with colourful lanterns as the evening descends. Photo: Fiona Ching

The Golgulsa Templestay is in the forested mountains near Gyeongju. Photo: Cameron Dueck

A statue depicting a seonmudo master on the temple grounds. Photo: Cameron Dueck

Vegetarian meals are served in a communal dining hall, with guests required to wash their own dishes. Photo: Cameron Dueck

A vegetarian breakfast at Golgulsa Templestay. Photo: Cameron Dueck

A four-metre-tall seated Buddha is all that remains of the original temple, which was carved into the side of the Hamwolsan Mountain in the 9th century. Photo: Cameron Dueck

On the rocky beach, “instead of kicks and punches, we do stretches and take deep breaths amid the sound of crashing waves”. Photo: Cameron Dueck

South Korea’s Jeju issues multilingual dos and don’ts list for unruly tourists

People head to the sea on Iho Tewoo Beach, Jeju. Photo: EPA-EFE/Yonhap

The Jeju police’s public order notice is printed in Korean, English and Chinese. Photo: Jeju Provincial Police Agency

A crossing on board a ‘placeless place’ from China to South Korea

Shidao Port, where the writer’s maritime journey commenced. Photo: Getty Images

The Huadong Pearl VIII, moored at Incheon Port. Photo: Shutterstock

The Huadong Pearl VIII arrives at Incheon Port. Photo: Kristian Odebjer

The Incheon Bridge, under which the Huadong Pearl VIII sailed while approaching the port. Photo: Kristian Odebjer

The guest services desk on board the Huadong Pearl VIII. Photo: Kristian Odebjer

Entertainment options sitting idle on board the Huadong Pearl VIII. Photo: Kristian Odebjer

The South Korean artist making lamps out of McDonald’s bags

Korean artist Gyuhan Lee in front of an artwork as part of his solo exhibition, “Pop Craft Structure”, at WOAW Gallery in Hong Kong. Photo: Jocelyn Tam

Artist Gyuhan Lee’s background is in furniture design, which shows through in his work. Photo: Jocelyn Tam

Gyuhan Lee’s work, Kitty Paper Trunk. Photo: courtesy of WOAW Gallery

McDonald’s Paper Bag Lighting by Gyuhan Lee. Photo: courtesy of WOAW Gallery

Gyuhan Lee’s solo exhibition “Pop Craft Structure” is on view at WOAW Gallery, Hong Kong. Photo: Jocelyn Tam

Gyuhan Lee’s Day & Night – Hermes Paper Architecture. Photo: courtesy of WOAW Gallery

The show is on view at WOAW Gallery, Hong Kong, till December 16. Photo: courtesy of WOAW Gallery

Insiders’ guide to Bhutan, the Land of the Thunder Dragon

The Paro Taktsang, or Tiger’s Nest Monastery, Bhutan’s most popular tourist attraction. Photo: Bibek Bhandari

The Punakha Dzong is one of Bhutan’s most significant architectural marvels. Photo: Bibek Bhandari

The Chimi Lhakhang temple is popular with couples struggling to conceive a child. Photo: Bibek Bhandari

Ema datshi, a spicy Bhutanese stew of chillies and cheese, with rice, hot sauce and buckwheat bread, at My Kind of Place, in Paro. Photo: Bibek Bhandari

A vegetable vendor at the Kaja Throm farmers market, in Thimphu. Photo: Bibek Bhandari

Intricate architectural details adorn Paro’s Zhiwaling Hotel, which is known for its heritage architecture. Photo: Bibek Bhandari

The entrance to the Choki Traditional Art School, in Thimphu. Photo: Bibek Bhandari

CSI Market sells only Made in Bhutan products, including food, handicrafts and textiles. Photo: Bibek Bhandari

PostMag

Travel

The South Korean island is known for its beaches, black pork and haenyeo divers, but a bike trip reveals traces of history that still shape it


The South Korean island is known for its beaches, black pork and haenyeo divers, but a bike trip reveals traces of history that still shape it.


A 260km cycling journey around Jeju through volcanic landscapes and fishing villages

.css-1c6uqr6{color:inherit;font-weight:inherit;font-size:inherit;font-family:inherit;line-height:inherit;overflow-wrap:break-word;}The South Korean island is known for its beaches, black pork and haenyeo divers, but a bike trip reveals traces of history that still shape it

The South Korean island is known for its beaches, black pork and haenyeo divers, but a bike trip reveals traces of history that still shape it