These inter-Korean trips don’t always go as expected. My destinations on the first weekend of spring 2019 were Kohwun Garden and Wonsando (130 kilometers south of Seoul, with the Yellow Sea to the west and Cheonsuman Bay to the east). As things turned out, I visited neither one.
I rode from Express Bus Terminal down to the city of Anmyeon, which I had visited in July 2011. There I had some difficulty securing passage to the southern tip of the oblong island of Anmyeondo. But as has happened so many times before, a kind stranger offered to help. His name was Lee Sang-no, and he drove a truck that advertised “boat repair” on the side. It took at least half an hour to make that journey. On the way, I looked for signs about Kohwun Garden which—according to my map at home—should have been on the right. Mr. Lee appeared not to know of it. One of Korea’s top botanical gardens, it consists of 200,000 square meters, and more than 4,500 native and exotic plants. The photos I had seen were such that I really wanted to go and experience it. Only when I got back to Seoul did I realize that my map was faulty; Kohwun Garden was on the other side of the bay, close to Cheongyang!
By a circuitous route, Mr. Lee and I passed through rice paddies and rustic farmhouses. Upon arrival in a village named Yeongmok, we went straight to the ferry terminal to see about buying a ticket over to Wonsando. The ferry terminal / fishing shop / convenience store was run by a lone woman who informed us that high winds meant no ferries coming or going that day. While I could have taken a taxi over the suspension bridge, that meant 30,000 won in each direction—too much. With Kohwun Garden and Wonsando out, I rolled with the punches and chose to stay in Yeongmok for the night. It was nothing special, admittedly, but there was water on three sides and the setting was surely pleasant. Mr. Lee did me one more favor, taking me to a hotel and introducing me to the lady who ran it. I thanked him and said goodbye before moving in and starting to look around.
Although I am loath to criticize, Yeongmok had a down-at-the-heels ambience. Perhaps 50% of the stores, restaurants, hotels, singing rooms and other establishments were closed. Worse, I did not even see the familiar imdae (“for rent”) signs on the doors of many. It compensated, however, with rolling hills, numerous fishing boats and clean air. During my 24 hours there, I recall just one person who wore a mask. The fine-dust problem in Seoul is such these days that many people never go outdoors without one on.
My friend Joo Hwa-seop had urged me to watch the sunset while in Yeongmok, and I did as numerous cackling seabirds flew above. I ventured into a restaurant and ordered a noodle and oyster stew with a half-dozen side dishes. The TV was on, and I noted that it had been opening day for the Korea Baseball Organization—Lotte Giants vs. Kiwoom (formerly Nexen) Heroes in Busan, SK Wyverns vs. KT Wiz in Incheon, Kia Tigers vs. LG Twins in Gwangju, Doosan Bears vs. Hanhwa Eagles in Seoul and NC Dinos vs. Samsung Lions in Changwon. Also on the tube was a segment wherein one K-pop boy, Jung Jun-young, had been caught videotaping his sexual trysts and sharing it all on group chat. He was seen making a teary confession before a horde of reporters at Seoul Central District Court.
The wind had died down the next morning, and I had a couple of hours before heading north. Actually, there was a place I just had to visit: Café Beach, a bright yellow school bus-turned-coffee shop. It sat no more than 100 meters from the water and had a lively, welcoming vibe—quite a contrast with the village’s dreariness. I ordered a café latte and noted that among its décor was battered old Texas license plate. How in the world did that get there?
Thirty minutes late, the island bus arrived. It took me back to Anmyeon, a real metropolis compared to Yeongmok. I had planned to stroll around, but the driver of the Seoul-bound bus was revving its engine. On the way home, I read 50 pages of Andrew Roberts’ Napoleon / A Life; it included Waterloo and the emperor’s second exile to the remote South Atlantic island of St. Helena.
I will not pretend that Yeongmok was one of my most exciting and edifying trips. And yet I had truly enjoyed myself, seeing a part of Korea that was new to me. I never tire of this.
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