Published by the Gwangju International Center since 2001
Sensing faint pangs of discontent across social media, the ever-perceptive Gwangju News dispatched its crack team of reporters to pursue a bevy of disparate leads, all of which culminated at the Cheetos-strewn bedside of a gaunt, woebegone loner for further elucidation. What follows is our earth-sundering report.
To kick off the new year, we’ll unshelve our trusty Farmers’ Almanac and put its sage guidance and folksy humor to good use in the pursuit of understanding Korea’s modern agricultural craze: sowing apartment complexes in the middle of nowhere. What could possibly go wrong? So, without further ado, let’s hop in the car and head to the countryside – oh, and feel free to ask any questions along the way…….
In fact, arguably the first mountain you’d think of when South Korea comes to mind is Bukhansan, nestled in its eponymous national park spread out over 30.86 square miles along the northern periphery of Seoul. Unsurprisingly, it tops most peoples’ to-do list and would likely be your first port of call as a hungry hiker newly moved here. But there are many more mountains to be explored beyond Bukhansan.
This month, we’ll turn to the interior for a visit to Hwasun County, located just southeast of Gwangju. There we’ll visit a pair of abandoned family shrines and the ruins of a mountain fortress dating back to the Goryeo era.
The five nations of Central Asia – Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, and Turkmenistan – were once part of the USSR. Their being late to obtain independence has meant that they are arguably still overlooked, though they are hidden gems in their own right. Kazakhstan, like its neighbors, is home to scenery that is nothing short of epic: Mountains capped with snow, glacial lakes, and gorges make it a dream for keen hikers and novices alike. It is a country where the influences of Islam and communism still clash wonderfully with each other, making way for some truly beautiful architecture, the likes of which I have never seen anywhere else.
Now any seasoned festival-goer will tell you, getting to the site is always a gruelling slog, which leaves you exhausted before the first chord is even strummed. I have had motorway breakdowns, cancelled coaches, and overcrowded trains. But this festival was different – we actually arrived in style.
Korea is known as a peninsula which has four distinct seasons and four distinct landscapes according to each season. Since Koreans enjoy seeing red and yellow foliage in the autumn, there is a specific Korean word called danpungnori (단풍놀이, directly translated as “autumn foliage play”), which refers to the act of going out to enjoy the autumn leaves. For this year, it is expected that we will be able to see the first fall leaves from late October (in the southern provinces). Below are the spots that are famous for danpungnori.
This month, we’ll trek to the extreme western edge of Jaeun-do, another of Sinan-gun’s many superb but under-visited islands. Jaeun-do has at least a half dozen sites and experiences of note I could talk about: the large, abandoned school complex that haunts the landscape, what Mariposa Resort was like back when I found it a burned-out derelict, the excellent hike to the peak of Dubong-san, dodging bats at the island’s decommissioned military site, discovering one-of-a-kind temple ruins amid a forest of bamboo, and two vast beaches that merge into an epic promontory scarcely anyone visits. For this article, we’ll focus just on the temple ruins and beach promontory.
