We Do Jeju-do
Pictures taken May 5-7, 2006

Jeju-do is a sub-tropical island off the south coast of Korea which is famous for three things: stone, girls and tangerines ('wind' is also an acceptable answer). With scant few long weekends left in our arsenal, Jen, Chad, Matt and I resolved to visit this vacation hotspot since we all really like tangerines. Unfortunately, our resolve was slow and tardy. All the regional flights from Incheon down to Jeju were already long booked. It looked like our resolve would be taking the painfully slow alternate route - the KTX train down south, a bus or two and then a five hour chug-a-lug ferry to our final destination.

The best thing to do whenever one encounters something mildly inconvenient or unpleasant in a foreign country is to label it "quaint" or perhaps "traditional" and pretend one is enjoying its cultural merits. Thusly we embarked on our ten hour voyage of droll 'native' public transport, intent on enjoying its rustic fancies rather like a bunch of British gentlewomen with sunbrellas marveling at Burmese whorehouses.

Upon finally arriving at the docks in Mokpo, I was pleased to note that Korean "ferry" does not mean a rust-patched barge rowed by Cambodian slaves as I had half feared. All the moored ships were high quality vessels with multiple decks and state-of-the-art rotor propulsion. The only thing that was missing were terror-inspiring piratical names for each ferry, like "The Masticator" or "Jolly Roger's Poop Deck Swab."

We climbed aboard, which means we filed slowly up a steel ramp with all the other passengers. While most families quickly staked claim to the large open areas in the midship interior, we set up shop in the open air of the top deck. We were true seafarers! Snapshots of nautical memories were interrupted as the ferry belched up two enormous and pungent streamers of filthy black smoke, and we were off.

Our ferry was better than this one, I assure you. It had 18th century cannons and all the cars aboard were Escalades.

We saw lots of passing ships and small islands that looked like nipples, but our seafaring spirit was quickly crushed by rain and the fact that offshore winds are fucking cold. We wandered below deck and discovered that our ride was actually quite pimp: it had a snack bar, restaurant and even arcade machines! The rest of our journey was well wasted on old Neo-Geo games and restlessly trying to sleep on horribly uncomfortable purple chairs. Matt played a stupid game he found on his cell phone where you have to dodge an evil sun in order to uncover semi-nude pictures of anime girls on their graduation day. These sort of things really don't surprise me anymore.

Debarking in Jeju put us right in the middle of Buddha's birthday celebration, which featured floats, traditional gear and a whole lotta lanterns. Dropping off our stuff in a mid-range hotel (which was luckily our hotel, the one we paid for, and not just some random place) we trolled the shoreline taking in the festivities. All was mild and pleasant until dragons attacked!!!

Luckily they were made out of paper mache or plastic or something not very strong... but still scary.

The Buddha rides in style!

Later we wandered Jeju City in search of some kind of nightlife, which was tragically absent. Jeju is a honeymoon resort, an island of conciliatory action, and basically not any kind of party town. We got drunk on Buy the Way corner-store beer and roamed narrow alleyways, peeking in windows of dilapidated shacks and discovering ancient shrines in back yards. Jeju felt filled with eerie spirits in its stillness that night; creepily invigorating. We were menaced by several terrifying ghost-dogs and picked our way back to the seaside, stopping on the seawall (constructed of enormous concrete prongs) to stare out at the ocean and feel insignificant.

The next morning ushered in a torrential downpour and a ghastly wake-up time. After a traditional and rather un-scrumptious breakfast of rice and soup, we boarded a bus with a large group of Korean sightseers and some very boring Westerners. We had already become the black sheep of the group, having found various ways to turn our tour badges into pirate costumes the previous day, and our antics were generally unappreciated. But that's okay, because everyone else really sucked.

Our first stop was something called the Mysterious Road, which I learnt nothing about because our English-speaking tour guide was in a constant volume battle with her Korean counterpart, who was an old biddy that never shut the fuck up. Later, when bus naps en route to our next destination became a valuable commodity, we grew to hate her fiercely. The Mysterious Road was very unmysterious, except for the fact that it was half underwater and barely visible from the rain. I am going to go out on a limb and say that it was probably mysterious because bloodthirsty pig-demons used to invite travelers to have sex with their hot step-sister who was not, in fact, a hot sister but just another pig-demon dressed up like Marilyn Monroe. A LEGENDARY QUANDRARY INDEED!

Next we toured some botanical gardens, which housed many trees and bushes that were only of interest because they softened the buckets of water being poured down on us from the heavens. Inside a greenhouse, we looked for our favorite plant cannabus sativus, which was sadly not represented in this particular Garden of Eden, and initiated our EXTREME JEJU protocol: taking misleading pictures of how totally rad everything about Jeju was!

The end result of this was that Jeju actually did start to feel a lot more fun, thereby reinforcing my worldview that pretending is believing. As the rain persisted, our tour decided to ferry us around to some circuses and monkey-seal shows, presumably because these enticements were a) indoors and b) cost extra money.

The circus was kinda cool. We saw some trapeze, and several girls perform graceful feats of impossible flexibility although I was surprised that the chunkiest girl was the one who could bend the most. Unfortunately a lot of it seemed old hat after watching China's National Troupe, but two Russians in a gigantic hamster wheel provided some new gags by theatrically pretending to fuck up and fall down to their deaths during their routine.

Of the seal show I will not speak: I have seen enough jumping dolphins and barking seals and swashbuckling monkeys in tiny pink dresses to last me a lifetime in this country.

Afterwards we had a hearty meal of fish, which none of the other Westerners we were with would touch due to squeamishness and vegetarianitis. DAMN I love fish now: these people know how to do it right, especially in Jeju where a good catch is a half-hour away. I accidentally ordered fish later that night too, falling prey to the regionalized dialect of Korean used in Jeju, and it was the best mistake ever. Those fish tasted like butter and Jesus. I actually got the chance to watch a local fisherman mutilate several squid and a large flounder (I am guessing here... I have no idea what kind of fish it was) while in Jeju, and the fish here definitely love life, thrashing around in their own blood in an effort to appear less delicious. The squid were placid and unassuming about the end of their short existence, although their tentacles have a devilish capacity to flip about and assault their murderer postmortem.

I'm not sure why I was so fascinated with the whole process; perhaps because We From North America are so distanced from the food we eat by an endless series of processing and shipping and packaging and retailing. What the end user buys has nothing in common with the live animal or vegetable from which it was derived, and thus the actual practice of localized food preparation seems foreign and alien and a tourist attraction. Some people happen across this harsh reality and become vegan. My reaction? "Man I really want to eat that fish!"

Chad got to run around on the beach. He frolicked in the frigid eddies for a while, the Koreans found his wave-chasing quirky and enchanting and then we got back on the bus.

We were off to the tangerine groves, where we ate tiny ungrown tangerines that an absolutely insane caretaker compared to the size of our testicles. He was a crude, insulting fellow and we instantly loved him for it. There were also gigantic mushrooms which were crushed and made into a very expensive tea, which we drank to cure our halitosis... or migraine headaches... or any number of physical ailments. We also had some super-concentrated tangerine jelly that probably cured epilepsy. In Korea, everything is touted as a medicinal cure for some problem, the most common being 'male virility'. After so much assurance that eating so-and-so is good for my pancreas, or this-and-that will cure my AIDS, I don't really pay attention anymore. All I learnt is that tangerines are good for eatin'.

After another dysfunctional night of drinking in NEW Jeju City - which was basically the same as the OLD - and some other stuff that I really can't remember (I seem to recall jump-kicking a large inflatable monk), we arose for Round Two... or Three, I can't remember that either. Most of these pictures aren't even in chronological order I don't think. Regardless, our hotel overlooked an Incan-esque structure which apparently struck me as important:

It was some sort of theatre play-house. And aaah, there's a palm tree. Palm trees were the sole thing that visually distinguished Jeju from the Korean mainland... that, and random Incan architecture. Palm trees lined every promenade and I am sure that Jeju is damn proud that its climate can support their overabundance, while Seoul's cannot.

One of our tour stops was the Lotte Hotel, a hotel which we were not staying at. The Lotte Hotel was gorgeous and served as a reminder that we had purchased an economy package to the island. There were plenty of palm trees there. I did not take any pictures because I was bitter.

One of the best places we visited was a Folk Village arranged to depict a traditional and historical Korean lifestyle. The two statues above appear everywhere in Jeju. They are made of volcanic rock and come as a twin set: one has a slightly raised left hand which signifies scholarship, and the other has a raised right hand which is the mark of a warrior. Their heads are shaped like penises for an undisclosed reason.

In the Folk Village (which contains actual inhabitants, by the way, people who choose to live the hard-knock life) we looked at traditional baskets and traditional mills and a traditional fireplace which lacked a traditional fire. One hut had a pretty good stereo system inside.

The star attraction of the village was the dong-dwedgy which, in all seriousness, translates as "shit-pig". In olden times, this noble pig's duty was to chill out in his pen all day and eat villager poo, which they would kindly deposit via a little rock hole in the side of his pen. This particular dong-dwedgy was not currently under contract, we were told, and a bunch of rats lived in a hole under his enclosure. I don't know why the rats are important, but I think maybe the pig was pissed that they were stealing his scraps and/or poo.

I was so totally envious of that pig's job. After another spot o' magical cure-all tea and declining a souvenir purchase of said tea, we embarked on our greatest venture yet: another ferry ride!

We were hitting the sea once more to visit U-Do (Cow Island), a tiny speck on the Pacific that can be walked around in a couple hours. Unfortunately, after a mercifully short ferry ride, we were jammed back onto another bus with some sad back-glances at a fine array of four-wheelers calling our name at the docks. Our driver was apparently a very charismatic individual, winning the laugher and applause of the middle-aged Korean women in our group, but, lacking linguistic appreciation, we could only give him props for not driving us off the skinny dirt road into rice paddies. He did that very well.

He also deserves admiration for taking us to a gorgeous cliff outcropping into the sea, where me and Jen got EXTREME with a local horse:

While Jen messed around and tried to be artistic with her new (and awesome) camera, I went exploring down along the beach and into some rock caves. It was low tide so the route was only mildly treacherous. Accompanied by some Korean kids and spritely grandmas and a dog who had inexplicably appeared in our midst, I jumped from ledge to ledge, hoping to God that I wouldn't slip and have to ask an ajuma to reassemble my skull. I wanted to at least make it further than the dog. Luckily I survived my gangliness and made it to an inlet at the end of the line which - as most things do - reminded me of pirates.

Another attraction of Jeju is that many Korean TV Dramas are filmed there. Enthusiasts of these dramas visit these scenic spots like we might embrace Universal Studios or maybe that corner store from Clerks, if it was real. Fortunately for K-Drama fans, that beach where Mr. Kim confessed his love to Yong-Ju, or whatever, is genuine and waiting for them to each, in turn, take photographs of themselves in the exact same pose and location as the show! That is a made memory, my friends. On U-Do, we checked out a mock church which we were assured was famous. Did the characters have sordid romances in a church? Did they make out on top of a statue of the Virgin Mary? I'll never know, but the set seemed to be important. They even had a plastic cameraman pointed at one of the windows, in what I assume is a reenactment of the real plastic cameraman who shot the show when the series was still running.

If you paid an extra 10 000 won (ten bucks), you could go inside and actually touch the plastic cameraman. He looked busy so we passed, spending the time trying to shank each other with wooden stakes that once upon a time held meat kebabs. We also tried to buy melon-flavored ice cream, which nobody would sell to us until I threatened to heave a large rock into the street cart. This act of strange (and mock) aggression brought an old lady over in a hurry and she gave us our melon with worried glances. Ahhhh iced melon. It's all part of being culturally insensitive and, of course, EXTREME!

Pow! We should all be stabbed. But it was not to be, at least not on Jeju Island. We took one last trip to the local beach, where we were cautioned not to pocket any rocks as they are a regional treasure and protected by cultural law. Matt and Chad threw these precious stones at each other for a while, we made a brief and mandatory appearance at the Official Tour Souvenir Shop and finally loaded our unpunctured bodies back on the ferry to Mokpo. More video games awaited, followed by an exhaustive and lengthy bus trip back to Seoul, and our sack of Jeju was complete.

The island may have rained on us continually and failed, in most senses, to be suitably tropical but it still had its bright spots. Gorgeous scenery and ample opportunity to be an idiot flecked the long weekend with goodness despite the weather. For me, it was the final destination on my journey to visit All Notable Places Korean. Jen got to molest her camera in new and exciting locales. Matt and Chad were able to physically assault each other in a variety of disturbing ways. For those looking for a Korean Ibiza of wild parties and bestiality, Jeju might disappoint, but as a getaway from the big city for a weekend this island provides some sexy results.