Forgiveness over Permission – Three Places You Probably Shouldn’t Visit, Unless You Do

 

By Isaiah Winters 

I wish I stuck to normal hobbies. I do like hiking, golfing, and swimming, but my inner Mr. Hyde always hijacks these and veers them off course. To provide some examples, in this recidivist edition of “Lost,” Mr. Hyde will take the wheel and steer us to three places in Honam where we probably shouldn’t be. As they say, it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, so here goes nothing. 

Ongseong-san’s Unfinished Suspension Bridge 

There’s a suspension bridge overlooking Dongbok-ho in Hwasun-gun that’s so new, I might have been the first to cross it. Of course, the engineers and builders working on it surely crossed first, but for unaffiliates like myself, I think it’s never been done, and that feels awesome. When I stumbled upon the bridge in late October, two workers were just finishing the final drilling and lacquering on the wooden staircase leading to it, so in my usual trance of brazen curiosity over common sense, I approached them and started asking questions about the bridge and whether it was okay to cross. They didn’t like me being there initially, but within a minute, I managed to pry a contradictory “You can’t, but hurry up and do it anyway” from the man in charge. 

Don’t mind if I do. 

The view is absolutely killer. Though the bridge dead ended at a huge concrete block without stairs yet leading to it, I found a bypass and made it to the edge of the cliff beyond, where the view over the protected waters below is among the finest in the country. Dongbok-ho is an off-limits reservoir for both Gwangju’s drinking water and flood control on the Hwasun side of Mudeung-san. Having visited the area many times without ever finding such a perfect vantage over the waters, all I could do was film, photograph, and stare in awe at the superlative scenery. I’m sure the view will be just as beautiful on the day they complete the bridge’s full hiking infrastructure, but something about being there alone at the edge of where I should and shouldn’t have been made it seem better. 

The yet unfinished suspension bridge at Ongseong-san 

Swinging Solo at Gwangju’s Abandoned Driving Range 

Somewhere on the outskirts of our fair city is an open gate sans “No Entry” signs leading to an abandoned driving range. Using my usual devil-may-care rationale, I recently sauntered in, scooped up a few dozen balls, and found a club – the first I’d held in ten years. I used to golf on the weekends back home because my area had a few unpretentious, dirt-cheap courses, but golfing in Korea always felt too formal for me, so I gave it up and let a decade of rust accumulate. Predictably, I was atrocious at my newfound range, hooking left, slicing right, and even flat-out missing a few times. For some reason, I decided to film all my flailing swings and put them on YouTube, granting my mediocrity digital immortality. Still, it was great fun and an excellent stress reliever. 

Adjacent to the driving range is a huge, abandoned hotel that the city doesn’t know what to do with. It’s got a massive indoor swimming pool and tile mosaic of Baekdu-san, pristine suites still with crisp (albeit dusty) bedding, a horribly vandalized Chinese restaurant, and spacious wedding halls, one of which still has a banner announcing the hall’s final couple to wed there. Even before closing, the hotel seemed to have had lots of wear and tear, as evidenced by the long, white tarps lining the ceilings along its lengthy corridors. Using these, the owners were likely trying to hide extensive water damage. The nicest rooms were naturally on the top floor and provided excellent views of the city, but if you reach these VIP suites, beware that one of them has the biggest active hornet’s nest I’ve ever seen. You really should see it, except you shouldn’t. 

Swinging solo at Gwangju’s most exclusive country club 
An abandoned hotel room still with nice beds and views 

Deserted Jindo Beaches That’ll Kill You  

Jindo is Korea’s third-largest island, and yet its beaches suck. Kagye Beach is great if you like to feel mud ooze between your toes as you lurch half a kilometer through murky water teaming with sea creatures you can’t see just to get waist deep. Geumgap Beach is better, but that’s only because Kagye Beach sets the bar so low. However, there is a trio of good beaches along one stretch of the island that are more or less “secret,” but only one ever attracts any visitors. So, I recently took it upon myself to visit all three in one day to see why nobody goes to the other two. After a two-hour drive from Gwangju, a long coastal hike in the blazing sun, plus a pinch of heatstroke and dehydration, I concluded that the other two beaches remain deserted because there’s a good chance they can kill you. 

The first is a crescent-shaped pebble beach that is calmed somewhat by the adjacent concrete jetty extending out into the sea. This area of Jindo is the most exposed to the open sea, so the waves crash quite hard against the jetty’s outer side, and what’s even more disconcerting is that the waves don’t just crash in a uniform line, but tend to crash, swirl, and crash again, making the choppy waters look eerie as hell. I’m no doyen of jetty architecture, but my guess is that nobody visits this beach because the jetty is too short to sufficiently tame its turbulent waters. Just a five-minute hike from this pebble beach is the second deserted beach that, although prettier and sandier, is even more exposed to the open sea, as it lacks any jetty. It was absolutely beautiful yet terrifying as the waves came crashing in at odd angles. In the end, I decided to only go in knee-deep at both beaches, even though I’m a strong swimmer. If you manage to find them, you should pay a visit to enjoy their beauty, but you definitely shouldn’t swim. 

Anyway, that’s it for this month’s transgressions. Please forgive me. 

The deserted pebble beach and short jetty that creeped me out 

The Author 

Hailing from Chino, California, Isaiah Winters is a pixel-stained wretch who loves writing about Gwangju and Honam, warts and all. He’s grateful to have written for the Gwangju News for over five years. More of his unique finds can be seen on Instagram @d.p.r.kwangju and YouTube at Lost in Honam.