Between Buddhist Temples and Love Motels
Bikepacking South Korea
It's Time for a New Adventure!
After the tough cycling in Central Asia, South Korea is a welcome change for us. In addition to a cycling infrastructure that would blow any Dutchman’s mind, we encounter tropical forests, a fascinating bathing culture, a lot of noodles and a day in a Buddhist temple.
Have fun reading!
Table of Contents
- A Bumpy Beginning
- Protests, Palaces and a Preposterous Dance
- A Noodle Faux-Pas with Consequences
- The Perfect Calorie-to-Cost Ratio
- A Glimpse into North Korea
- Camping in the Korean Wilderness
- A Hold Up in Chungju
- A Night in a Korean Bathhouse
- A Rude Phone
- A Monsun at the Sea of Japan
- Love Motels and a Popsicle-Flatrate
- A Monk for the Day
- How Joel Almost Becomes a Hero
A Bumpy Beginning
“I’ll ask those people over there if they can help me with the ATM!” Joel heads across the sparkling clean tiles of the terminal building towards a young couple sitting on a bench. We need cash. Seoul-Incheon Airport is located on a small island with only one bridge connecting it with the mainland. Cycling is forbidden on that road, so we have to take a train. Tickets can only be bought in cash though. The ATM displays a plethora of Korean characters which unfortunately, we cannot read.
While the young man agrees to help Joel with the cash machine, I stay behind and guard the bike boxes. A few moments later, Joel returns crestfallen. “Is the machine not working?” I ask anxiously. “I don’t know,” Joel shrugs, “but that bloke is from Thailand and can’t read Korean either.”
At Cheongwa Station, we heave our heavy boxes out of the train and down the escalator. I’m surprised how hot and humid the air is outside: The climate is downright tropical! Rebuilding our bikes in the shade next to the metro station, the reactions of the few passers-by are varied: Some ignore us completely, others stare at us in amazement and a few people even wave or greet us. To be honest, we are just very relieved that no one shouts “OTKUDAAA?”.
Once the bikes are built, we look out for a container to dispose of the boxes. Inside the metro station, next to a bin, we discover a folded-up cardboard bike box. It must belong to Poggy, an Irish cyclist who set off from Almaty the day before. The bin isn’t big enough to fit our boxes in, so we follow Poggy’s example, fold them up and wedge them between the bin and the wall. Not so without repercussions.
A few days later, we receive a message from Jonas, who has now also arrived in South Korea: “A staff member from the station approached me today when I was assembling the bike. She told me to dispose of my waste properly. She accused me of having already disposed of 5 boxes here and that she was going to call the police if I didn’t take it away.” A week later, Fran, a bikepacker from Germany, was also threatened by the same disgruntled employee.
We ride to the start of the 670 km long 4-Rivers cycle path, which connects Seoul with Busan. In Korea, the government has an interesting way of encouraging people to go cycling. So-called certification centres in red telephone booths are placed every 20-50 km along the major long-distance cycle paths. Stamps can be collected in a special bicycle passport after each section. For every completed long-distance cycle route, the riders are rewarded with stickers or even a medal. We won’t miss out on that for sure!
Protests, Palaces and a Preposterous Dance
Over the next few days, we explore the metropolis of Seoul. The vast city is a little bit bigger than London. Climbing up the stairs of the metro station, we are suddenly surrounded by skyscrapers – and in the middle of a major demonstration. As far as the eye can see, people are sitting on the ground in protest against Japan’s measure to discharge water from the Fukushima reactor back into the sea. While the words of a spokesperson on the podium echo from numerous loudspeakers, the protesters synchronously raise identical signs into the air at set times. It would be great, if organised strikes in Germany worked in such an orderly and efficient manner.
We stroll between the skyscrapers, visit Gyeongbokgung Palace and its huge park right in the city centre. Entry is free for everyone who wears a traditional robe – the Hanbok. This makes for a beautiful photo backdrop. But, my European friends, please consider this before hurrying to one of the many Hanbok-Rental Shops: Hanboks don’t suit Westerners, you look ridiculous! Joel and I can hardly contain ourselves when we spot this couple in traditional clothing.
Of course, no visit to Seoul would be complete without a stop in the district of Gangnam. Ever since the cynical song Gangnam Style by Psy, Seoul’s trendy district has become famous around the world. Gangnam consists almost entirely of skyscrapers, with advertisements for brands such as Gucci, Chanel and Prada everywhere. We are impressed by the unusual architecture of the Starfield City Library and the Gangnam-style statue at the metro station. Of course, Joel poses in the famous horse riding pose of the dance, much to the amusement of bystanders.
A Noodle Faux-Pas with Consequences
We go to a CU Convenience Store near our apartment. Convenience Stores are in abundance in the whole of Korea. Selling snacks, drinks, cosmetic products, camping gas and ready meals, these shops have everything we need. They also offer hot water and seating, so the food can be consumed straight away. Today we decide on instant noodles. They come in a wide variety of sizes and flavours and are of a higher quality than the cheap stuff in Europe. Joel goes for spicy cheese noodles, while I choose Udon noodle soup. I want to pour off the excess water. Joel points to a bin with a colander hanging in it. I frown. Pouring the hot water into a normal plastic bin? Will the bin liner not melt from the heat? I hesitate, but Joel starts to pour his water away. Then it is my turn.
“Nooo!!!” the store owner storms out from behind the counter. Oh no. I wish I hadn’t listened to Joel. I turn around. The man is gesticulating wildly at Joel. Cold sweat forms on my forehead. What’s the best way to explain to him that I poured the noodle water in the bucket by accident? I hope I haven’t destroyed it. Otherwise we’ll surely have to pay for the damage… Joel asks the man to use the translator on his phone. We are surprised when we read the answer: “Don’t pour the water away! This is an Udon noodle soup, the water is part of it.” My heart drops and we start laughing. I explain that I’m just not in the mood for soup today and the shopkeeper calms down. He shrugs his shoulders, as if he thinks to himself: “Those weird foreigners …” and returns behind the counter.
Gifts From the Locals
The Perfect Calorie-to-Cost Ratio
We cycle along the “Wishing for Peace” trail towards North Korea. When it comes to bike-infrastructure, I always thought Belgium or the Netherlands are top of the list. But South Korea beats them all! In the greater Seoul area, very clean public toilets with potable water are abundant. There are plenty of covered seating areas, bicycle pump stations and convenience stores along the trail too. After the stresses and strains of Central Asia, we can cycle here carefree. We are faced with a new challenge though: Finding food with enough calories at an affordable price.
The scarce supermarkets cannot be compared with their European counterparts. Not even recognising half of the products in the store, we examine the things we know. My eyes almost pop out of my head when I work out the price of two apples: 8000 ₩, about £6. Bananas are cheaper: 8 (small) bananas cost £3.
Therefore we mainly resort to ready meals from the convenience stores. The choice is huge: from instant noodles, curries and rice pockets to bento boxes, everything can be found even in the smallest of stores. Most portions have a low calorie content however. Comparing the different dishes and their calories, we often spend a quarter of an hour with the question not being: What is the healthiest? But rather: Which dish has the best calorie-to-cost ratio? We also rely heavily on 2+1 offers. Today, we share three bowls of instant noodles with a 2+1 offer and a chocolate bar with a 1+1 offer. Add a sweet lemonade each and our calorie deficit is more or less compensated!
A Glimpse into North Korea
“Technically, you need to make an online reservation beforehand if you want to stay at this campsite,” the receptionist types into our translator app and looks up with a frown. Then her face brightens up. “But I’ll make an exception for you! That’s 14000 ₩!” she smiles. I convert it quickly in my head. That’s only £8 – cheaper than our lunch! The campsite in Paju is spacious, with clean toilets and even a small convenience store. It is evident that many Koreans love camping, or should I say glamping? Surrounded by gazebos, fairy lights, braziers, electric barbecues and even fully equipped outdoor kitchens, our small tent looks a bit lost.
The Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) between North- and South Korea is a 248 km long and 4 km wide strip of land that was established in 1953 after the Korean War. Entering this buffer zone between the two countries is only possible with a special permit. Over the past 70 years, there have been numerous violations of the ceasefire and breaches of the border, particularly from the North Korean side. In addition, between 1974 and 1990, a total of four tunnels were discovered through which the North Koreans tried to infiltrate South Korea. The last incident at the border occurred in May 2020.
We buy tickets for the tour and quickly find ourselves part of an Asian bus tour group. Yes, the kind of bus tour that we always make fun of in Europe. We visit one of the tunnels dug by North Korea, then continue to a platform with binoculars. Peering through the telescopes into the North Korean propaganda village of Kijong-Dong gives us a strange feeling, almost like being a gawker at a crime scene. In general, the whole area around the South Korean side of the DMZ gives off the vibe of an amusement park rather than a reminder of a cruel history and a dangerous conflict. What is sold as a tourist attraction here is bitter reality for the people of North Korea. One should never forget that.
Camping in the KoreanWilderness
Having spent over a week in Korea now, it is time to start wild camping to reduce our costs. Doing it for the first time in a new country is always a challenge: Will we find a suitable place? How will the locals react? Are there potential dangers by wild animals? Feeling a little anxious, we observe the area carefully as we leave the big city of Yang-Ju. In a village, Joel’s eagle eyes spot a wooden pagoda on the other side of a lake.
We find an overgrown path that takes us directly there. The pagoda is located right next to an outdoor fitness facility. Everything is overgrown with tall grass. Nobody seems to have taken care of this place for a while. The only downer: huge yellow spiders sit in their webs in between the beams of the building. Careful not to upset the creepy crawlies, we set up the tent in the middle of the pagoda.
Korea is so densely populated that we can never really get away from civilization. A few days later – back in the Seoul area – we discover a beautifully adorned pagoda on a slope above the cycle path. It stands on the edge of a gravel-covered plateau next to an arrangement of stones carved with Chinese characters. With a view of the busy three-lane highway on one side and the Han River on the other, it’s a wonderful place to pitch the tent, while the sunset bathes everything in a deep orange glow.
From time to time, a few locals pass by: an elderly man even tries to take us to a BBQ restaurant! We politely decline, as the tent is already pitched and we are in the middle of cooking dinner. In Korean culture, people mostly mind their own business. A young couple, presumably looking for a spot to watch the picturesque sunset, turn on their heels when they see our tent in the pagoda.
The 4-Rivers bicycle highway is busy and all cyclists greet each other. Joel is already complaining that his neck hurts from constantly tilting his head while shouting: Ahn-nyeong-ha-se-yo (Hello)!
Apparently all campsites in Korea are closed on Tuesdays, so we turn to the tourist information in despair. They direct us to an island on the river, 10 km further. As we reach Gangcheonseom Island just before dusk, “No camping no cooking” signs greet us. Whatever – after all, it was the tourist information who suggested it to us.
The island itself consists of a large park with green meadows, alleys and benches. There’s not a soul here apart from us and it is almost eerily quiet. We stroll across the island and look around for a well-hidden spot, when we come across a modern toilet building. The toilets, cleaner than in many hotels, have a sensor that turns on the lights and classical music as soon as we open the door. But why is nobody here? It really is a bit creepy with the soft piano music sounding in the emptiness. We find a covered and hidden spot for the tent. When we leave the island at 7 am the next day, it is just as quiet and deserted as it was the night before.
A Hold Up in Chungju
Having wildcamped for four nights, we urgently need a shower and a break. The Raemian Hotel in Chungju, right on the cycle path, is a jackpot: There’s free coffee and hot water, a collection of complimentary cosmetic products and a GS 25 convenience store on the first floor of the building. We get as much food as we can afford and watch Netflix on the bed. The next day we spend in the city trying to figure out why my left pedal crank keeps coming loose. After being tightened several times by different bike mechanics, the issue persists.
As it turns out the following day, the connecting piece between the crank and spindle, once square, is so worn that it is now completely round. The entire crank set needs replacing. With the repair taking at least until the afternoon, it leaves us enough time to eat an ultra-spicy Rice Bowl in the restaurant next door, buy stylish children’s sunglasses and go for a coffee.
When we pick my bike up at 3:30 pm, not only does our wallet hurt (80000 ₩), but so do my thighs. Far too late I realise that the shifter-display doesn’t reflect the current gear. The chain no longer moves onto the biggest cog (lowest gear). Really? Exasperated, I immediately want to return to the bike store, but Joel is confident that he can fix the problem himself. He grabs my bike and a screwdriver, rides around in circles and tweaks the rear derailleur from time to time.
“Okay, I can’t fix it!” Joel stops next to me, panting. He’s been on it for no less than half an hour now. I roll my eyes. We ride back to the repair shop. Another half an hour later, the chain is still rubbing in some gears, but the shifting works without problems again. We finally want to leave Chungju and find a small pagoda for the night somewhere. At that very moment it starts to rain cats and dogs.
The mechanic peers out of the window worriedly: “What are you going to do now?” We look at each other briefly. We’re both thinking the same thing. I reply: “We’re going back to the hotel. Tomorrow is another day” When we arrive at the hotel reception a little later, completely soaked and freezing, the friendly receptionist can’t hide his surprise. “You again?” When Joel tells him a pitiful story about a day filled with bad luck, we get to stay in the very same room again – at a friendship rate. After a hot shower, eating instant noodles and watching Netflix, we’re actually quite happy about today’s outcome.
A Night in a Korean Bathhouse
We leave the 4-Rivers trail and head east towards the Sea of Japan. Between apple orchards and jungle like forest, our route winds through the hilly landscape. After passing Woraksan National Park, we reach Danyang, a picturesque little town on the northern branch of the Chungju River.
We push our bikes through the covered market hall and find what we are looking for: A Jjimjilbang!
This tongue twister refers to a traditional Korean bathhouse with the possibility to stay overnight. The ticket price of £7.50 per person includes access to the baths with a sauna and hot pools and a space in the dormitory! I’m a little nervous because there is a strict etiquette of behaviour. The gender-segregated sauna and bathing area must be entered completely naked. No chance to cover anything up with the miniature towels provided! Before using the baths, a thorough wash is essential.
For the first time in my life I am confronted with seated showers, where the Korean women spend an eternity exfoliating their bodies. Although I had previously read up on Jjimjilbangs on the internet, I don’t know everything. Weeks later in Japan, I learn that head hair is not allowed to touch the water. The other ladies in the bath don’t comment on my long hair dangling down though. It must be because I am a foreigner.
Clean again and with rumbling stomachs, we wander through the market halls next door. There is delicious food everywhere! Our mouths are watering. In the end, we opt for baked rolls with various fillings and sausages. Maybe not the most cultural choice in Korea, but when you have been away from home for so long, the thought of a freshly baked breadroll fills you with anticipation. It tastes delicious! I estimate that the large dormitory at the Jjimjilbang can accommodate up to 30 people. Today however, there are only 4 or 5 others. Sleeping mats and rubber wedges can be taken from a large pile in the corner of the room. We select a comfortable spot on the gallery. When the alarm rings at 07:30 am, we are the last ones to get up. We quickly hop into the sauna once before saying goodbye to Danyang for good.
A Rude Phone
To avoid going back on ourselves for 10 kilometres, we take a small path following a stream of water up the mountain instead. It’s super steep (great idea, Jana!). We pass through the small village of Nodong-ri, where we stop once again to catch our breath. A man waves to us from the side of the road and invites us into his garden for a glass of water. We are delighted about this opportunity to talk to Han Sok-Won and his wife Chong Sun-Il.
Generally speaking, the Koreans we have met so far were all incredibly friendly, but it’s rare to strike up a proper conversation. Mr. Han offers us a glass of water and a plate of grapes straight from the fridge. The perfectly round, smooth, green fruits, moist from condensation water, look delicious. A real luxury product, which would cost around £8 in a Korean supermarket. Hesitantly we reach for the sweet and seedless delights. With the help of our translation app, we learn that Mr. Han and Mrs. Chong are garlic farmers and that their son works as a translator in Australia.
In Korean, there is a polite form of address, which is used to show respect for strangers and older people. Joel’s phone on the other hand seems to translate as if we were close friends. At some point, Mr. Han kindly points out to him that it is very impolite to address older people and strangers in that manner. We apologise for the cheeky phone! When we outline our route to Mr. Han and Ms. Chong, they seem to be very worried about us potentially not finding enough to drink on our way. We point out that we have already survived the Uzbek desert, but they insist on giving us at least some juice and an energy drink. With renewed strength, we return to tackle the steep slope.
A Monsun at the Sea of Japan
After days in the jungle, we finally reach the Sea of Japan in the east! Sun, beaches and swimming – I have been dreaming about this for days! Instead, we head right into a monsoon. It rains and rains extremely heavily for hours. In fact, it doesn’t stop at all. We ride through small, poor fishing villages and up and down tsunami barriers. The waves lash against the groynes and concrete tetrapods in the sea. In between, two miserable bikepackers in the pouring rain with rain gear that is now soaked inside and out. In the evening, we find a two-storey pagoda in a water lily park. Fortunately, it’s not particularly windy, so the wooden roof of the construction shelters us sufficiently from the rain when we set up the tent.
I wake up about two hours after we’ve gone to sleep. A real storm is picking up outside. The tent is being tossed around by gushes of wind while lightning flashes through the dark night. Joel is also awake and listening to the storm. The howling of the wind is terribly noisy. When the storm doesn’t die down, but rather increases in intensity, we come to realise: One of us has to go out there and fix the guy ropes. Otherwise, our tent will soon be nothing but a loose patch of fabric.
We decide on Joel. Building and ensuring the safety of the tent is his job, after all. To avoid a further accumulation of damp and wet clothing, Joel decides to jump out into the lashing rain completely naked. The scene must have looked incredibly funny. We can’t help but burst out in laughter when Joel is back in his warm sleeping bag. The tent is still being tossed around, but there’s nothing else we can do now. I don’t think I need to mention that we hardly sleep a wink that night.
Time for dinner. The calm before the storm …
Relieved the next morning. Our tent survived!
After 100 km of strong crosswinds, we arrive in the town of Pohang the next day. Here we discover a new favourite cycling snack: Kkwabaegi, twisted sticks made from rice dough, deep-fried and rolled in sugar: They are crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside! Joel also loves the small donuts with sweet adzuki bean filling.
Love Motels and a Popsicle-Flatrate
In Gumi, an industrial town in the centre of South Korea, we are on the lookout for Motel Jess, which we booked for a very cheap price on booking.com. As we get closer to our destination, it becomes quite obvious that this is the red light district. One business motel follows the next. On this late afternoon, the streets are empty except for a few dubious-looking figures. Korea has a flourishing Love Motel culture. While these establishments used to be seen primarily as a love nest for young couples and affairs in strictly conservative Korea, today Love Motels also attract study groups, gamers, party people and tourists with their affordable rooms. But let’s not kid ourselves: Even though prostitution is officially banned in Korea, it definitely exists. This ‘red light district’ is proof.
Love motels come in all sizes, shapes and colours, from tacky and fluffy to ultra-modern and smart. There is even a Trump motel with prison cells or a themed hotel where you can sleep in a soju bottle or a 50000 ₩ money roll. Our motel, on the other hand, has pretty standard rooms. With one exception: The freezer box on the corridor is filled to the rim with popsicles in vanilla, chocolate, strawberry and melon flavours. The room rate of £17 includes a popsicle flatrate!
Small packs of cosmetic products – basic equipment in every Korean Hotel
A Monk for the Day
One of the highlights of our trip through Korea is a temple stay. As part of the “Visit Korea Year” 2023/2024, numerous cultural events are being promoted, including a stay in a Buddhist temple. In 2021, Korea was the country with the second-highest number of working hours of all OECD countries (5th place in 2022), with a rising number of people in desperate need of a break. Many come to a Buddhist monastery to heal and meditate. Usually just for a day, then it’s time to head back to work. In certain temples, foreigners can take part in the programs – this year for a discounted price of £19 per person, including an overnight stay and three meals.
A temple employee welcomes us and shows us a video briefing in English. Unfortunately, our translator has fallen ill at short notice. We are given temple clothes: comfortable grey trousers and a brown vest. Joel is a little disappointed that he doesn’t get to wear an orange monk’s outfit like the monks in Thailand. To our surprise, we aren’t assigned a spot in separate dormitories but are given our own double room in a hanok, a traditional Korean wooden house. The temple complex is beautifully situated in a forest and when I close my eyes, there is no sound but the rushing little stream, the whisper of the leaves moving in the wind and the chirping of the birds. I can understand why Koreans seek healing and peace here.
Our room in a traditional Korean House
The temple employee does his best to introduce us to temple etiquette. Due to the language barrier, however, we learn very little about Buddhism itself.
The temple food, on the other hand, is great! As Buddhists respect all living beings equally, they are strictly vegan. The diet consists of sticky rice, seaweed, tofu and various fermented vegetables: cabbage, mushrooms, carrots. It’s completely different to anything I’ve ever tasted before.
The alarm rings at 04:00 am. We stagger towards the temple in the dark, crossing our hands in front of our stomachs as required by etiquette. The ceremony itself is quite exhausting. We have no idea what the procedure is and try to follow the movements and prostrations of the monks next to us. It’s not particularly meditative or relaxing. We lie down for another hour before breakfast.
This is a video of our Temple-Experience:
How Joel Almost Becomes a Hero While Bikepacking in South Korea Comes to an End
Two days later. We attentively observe the family in the pagoda, as they pack away their picnic equipment and stow it in the car. We get ready for the sprint. “You are travelling to Busan?” A cyclist who has just come to a halt behind us on the trail addresses us in broken English. “Yes,” Joel replies, “Busan and then on to Fukuoka, Tokyo, Vietnam, Laos…”. At the minute, we recite our itinerary 2-3 times a day. The man is clearly impressed and tells us that he lives in the next town. He gives us a persimmon and a Snickers bar before riding on. We turn our attention back to the pagoda. Bugger, now we missed our opportunity: Another family has already made themselves comfortable there.
The rectangular wooden pagoda, located directly on the cycle path, is the perfect place to camp. The view over the river with the sun setting is magnificent and public toilets are just around the corner. We are not the only ones keen on this spot. Local families are using this space for a picnic. Who can blame them? We wait patiently and watch the hustle and bustle on the cycle path.
A woman in her 70s pushes a bike with two flat tires. Joel offers to help and pumps them up for her. The woman appears over the moonand then happily rides off around the corner. About half an hour later – we have finally secured our spot in the pagoda – the woman returns. This time with another bike! She comes closer, obviously looking for Joel. Then I see why: This bike has two flat tires too. Joel does his best to help, but this time our pump doesn’t fit the valve on the tubes. Almost a hero!
In Busan, we meet up with Anna and Thomas, two Danish overlanders we’ve already met in Kazakhstan (small world), eat all kinds of delicacies and go surfing. Then it is time to take the ferry to Japan.
Busan
South Korea is not what I expected. A country with a tropical climate, a cycling paradise with friendly, proud, polite and curious people. We explored supermarkets with mysterious products, culinary delights, a fascinating bathing culture, crazy themed hotels and the cleanest public toilets I’ve ever seen. I am glad we had the opportunity to spend more than one month in this amazing country.
Goodbye, Korea! 안녕히 계세요 한국!
