While David, Katie and Jared were off exploring peace dams and hills in Chuncheon, Ruth and I opted to spend the long weekend on Deokjeokdo, one of the West Sea's hidden gems. This was my second excursion to the picturesque island retreat, the first being in September 2006. It's not really much more hassle to get there than Muuido, and the payoff -proper beaches and swimming - is well-worth the extra ferry cost.
Since my last visit, there were few noticeable changes in the little village of Seopori. Still the same old houses/corner stores and minbaks, though many were in the process of being given a fresh coat of paint. There were some beautiful some new pensions at the back of the village. We noticed this only after agreeing to stay with some of Ruth's fellow Siheung-ers in a cramped little minbak just off the main (for main, read only) street, six to a room. They're fun folks, and I didn't really mind staying there (I just love to have something to bitch about), but would love to check out a nice faux-European pension when I'm feeling flush sometime and have the benefit of reservations (They were all booked out anyway).
The lack of available accommodation was in part due to the presence of a large number of tourists, both Korean (i.e. ajumas in hiking gear) and foreign (i.e. teachers with cans of beer). We had been forced to catch the lunchtime ferry because the morning one had sold out. Most of the waygookins were ensconced in various cliques and groupings along the beach, as we saw a few familiar faces among the assembled masses.
Saturday morning was misty and overcast. With little else to do but gaze at the Carpenter-esque fog enveloping the beach, I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of Family Mart pastries in the lifeguard tower while Ruth snapped pictures of some random Korean beach-goers. It was not the most glorious of mornings, and we contemplated cutting our losses and heading for Seoul ,
Around midday, however, the fog suddenly cleared and the island was bathed in glorious sunshine. Any thoughts of departure were quickly forgotten. Armed with water, Gatorade, and some Korean digestive biscuits, Ruth and I set off up the hill - well, at least we did after taking a few wrong turns in the back alleys and lanes behind the village.
In contrast to the well-maintained paths encountered in 2006, the trail was now quite overgrown in places, making me wish I'd worn long trousers instead of shorts. Ruth quite rightly ridiculed me for whinging about the thorny brambles that occasionally crisscrossed the path.
The hilltop pagoda, once freshly painted, now looked rather forlorn and dilapidated. A host of flies meandered through the weather-beaten rafters, and the place gave off a forlorn air. However, the spectacular view from the ridgeline had lost none of its luster. Even though the far-away islands were lost in the haze, the beaches and coves of Deokjeokdo were still there for all to see, breathtaking in their beauty.
On our way down we passed a few old shacks entangled in a mass of weeds and vines. I barely remembered them from last time, but on this occasion they gave me the absolute creeps. I just have way too active an imagination and they reminded me a little too much of the creepy cabin in LOST. One glimpse of a swinging rocking chair and I would have been out of there as fast as my little Irish legs could carry me. Ruth was similarly spooked. Perhaps the earlier discussion about Japanese soldiers roaming the jungles of the Philippines was, in hindsight, a bad conversation topic.
The funny part is, the shack is mere minutes from civilization. We passed a similar ruin just down the track . The second one, in the open and littered with discarded farm rubbish, was not in the least bit eerie.
In the evening, following another delicious dinner at the little restaurant, we all yomped down to the beach and blagged our way into one of the campfire circles. This was made easy by the fact that the group had been already invaded by the island's quite inebriated baseball team, who were trying to give everyone soju and beer shots, and setting off roman candles at a proximity that bordered on the criminally negligent. Few things are potentially more catastrophic than people who mix soju and fireworks, but we escaped unscathed.
All in all, it was a feel-good return and a relaxing way to spend the weekend. Time permitting, I have every intention to go back in the autumn.
