Published by the Gwangju International Center since 2001
Located in the northeastern part of Gangwon Province, Sokcho is so far north that it was briefly under the control of North Korea after World War II , before finally changing hands following the Korean Armistice Agreement. These days, it is a popular getaway for those wanting to swap the stifling, summer streets of Seoul for the cool sea breeze of the coast.
Among the ample little peaks studding Korea’s west, one that’s recently left me lovestruck is Jindo Island’s Dongseok-san. It’s about as far southwest as you can drive in Korea and a solid 2.5 hours from Gwangju.
Deep in the mountains, there once lived an old bachelor. Every day, he would go digging for herbs and then sell them in the market. Nearly thirty, and quite poor, it seemed unlikely he would ever find a wife. One day he went deeper in the woods than usual, looking for herbs, and struck such a rich vein that he lost track of time. Before he knew it, the sun had set, stranding him in the dark. Eager to get home, he only got more lost in the forest. He had no other recourse but to keep wandering. At last, he saw a faint light flickering in the distance. He ran over to see who it might be. What he found was a straw-thatched house with a fenced-in garden. Hearing his footsteps, a young woman came out to greet him.
enter this new season. Grab some friends, water, and sunscreen and get outside to enjoy the green. There’s a whole lot to uncover here in Gwangju, and you’ll never know what you’ll learn. Where will your next adventure be?
A strange tale, this.
Mokpo is such a great little city. Its geography alone is impressive, with rocky Yudal-san bookending the city’s peninsular core and shielding residents from the yearly barrage of typhoons. The city also sits at the mouth of the massive Yeongsan River, which originates in Damyang-gun, passes through Gwangju and Naju, and disgorges on either side of Goha-do.
My involvement with the “Lost” column began this month back in 2018, and as much as I’d like to have a single, significant topic to cover, this fourth anniversary has fallen during a creative slump. As per tradition, whenever this happens, I’m left to cobble together a few half-baked ideas with little rhyme or reason to them. And so, here it is – an underwhelming medley of odds and (dead) ends that have been crowding my workspace these past few months.
“No matter its weight or size, he could lift any rock. For that, he was given the name ‘Rock.’”
