Return to Jebu-do

Back in May, I made a day trip to Jebu-do, a unique island on the east coast. The directions I had weren’t that good. I found very little information about this place on the web and none of the teachers I work with had ever been there either. I made it.

If you’re interested in an excursion, just get to the train station in Suwon. Don’t go inside. There’s a tourist bureau on the right. Unless things change, they’ll probably direct you to a big red bus, no. 1004, that parks right out in front and will take you to the nearby mainland town where another bus crosses the long causeway that disappears beneath the water at high tide. Don’t worry about finding that bus. You can’t miss it. Or hike across if you’re in the mood.


It was an agreeable way to spend a Sunday afternoon, hiking around the shoreline. I had to be back in Icheon for work the next day so I left well before the water rose. I wanted to return at least one more time when I could spend the night and watch the causeway sink and rise again.

Two weeks ago, I returned to Jebu-do with a horde of elementary school children. Our school took a big field trip to finish the year before summer vacation with a little adventure. Visiting the island on your own is so different than arriving with six big tour buses full of school children. Hiking the entire island was out of the question. Instead, we took little spades and dug in the mud of low tide for shellfish, a popular activity at Jebu-do, something I hadn’t done the first time around. We had fun. Some of us got rather wet and muddy but not a single person wiped out completely. What are the odds? And we walked all the way to the water’s edge, a considerable distance.





Kudos to whoever organized this trip. The organization was impressive. All of those children had to be fed. There was some arrangement for a tasty seafood noodle lunch right at the beach. Job well done.

The video is from the original solo journey

Two broken rules and one broken camera. Wah!

Cheonggye Stream downtown Seoul one cold December morning 2007.


Pictures probably make the difference between a rotten blog and a mediocre one.
In an attempt to make the most of my remaining time in Korea, I visited Mt. Bukhansan yesterday. I took a few pictures too but no one will be seeing them, not even me. I dropped the camera that has served me so well since April, 2006 in a stream.

I still have high hopes but low expectations that it will resurrect after a few days of drying. I read on the web that that sometimes happens. We’ll see. I have it in a container with some silicone gel bags to reduce mold. I may even take it apart today if I can find the right mini-screwdriver.


Summer in Korea is a very sweaty time and I found a nice alternative to hiking up the mountain right at the base where a cool stream rolled through big rocks. I found my spot by a small swimming hole worth about one good stroke in either direction. Daredevils slid down a steep smooth slope into the water. It looked a bit chancy to me. A bad landing could end in a serious head injury. I’ve been trying to cut down on that kind of excitement.

I had a giant high rock in the middle of the stream with a smooth depression in the center of the top the length of my body. Laying there, catching a sweet breeze after a nice dip in the cool water, I wasn’t surprised to find my book slipping out of my hands and I didn’t wake up until a park official peeked his head over the top to tell me I had to button my shirt. I had noticed that everyone else was splashing with their shirts on. They did that at Seonjong Beach in Busan too. I thought it was strange; never dreamed it was a rule. Well, rules are rules but Iwanted toknow why. He tried to explain but lacked the English words so as far as I can tell, it’s considered indecent for men to take their shirts off when swimming in streams in national parks. Maybe the same applies to public beaches.

This is not where I dropped the camera. A big storm seemed to be on the way so I drifted along back downtown to walk around in no particular direction and see things I’d missed before. When I stumbled across the Cheonggye Stream, I knew it was way past time to descend from the street and take a stroll along the banks.

Under a bridge, people sat on the bank to dangle their feet in the water and some waded out to the center. That gave me the brilliant idea to wade out to the center and walk the length in the water, snapping pictures from a different perspective. It looked easy. It’s an artificial stream, not too deep, and the bottom is made of flattish rocks. I didn’t get far, probably four stubborn steps at the most. The current was surprisingly strong and a bit of moss made those rocks nice and slippery. I was ready to give up but getting back wasn’t so easy. Realizing there was a solid chance I was going to fall and find my way back on hands and knees, I got ready to minimize the damage and toss the backpack onto the bank first. A friendly stranger gave a hand. I was ready. I lunged for a rock and my camera flew out of my shirt pocket. Dang. Lights out for the little Canon Powershot.

Some guy in a uniform came down to chase the waders back to the bank. Wading isn’t allowed there and it shouldn’t be. I think that’s the main job for this man and a few others I saw. Sitting on the bank with feet in the water is cool but the minute someone stands up in the water, these guys are there to tell them to sit back down again. Tempting as it is, that stream is rather hazardous. Lots of potential for head and spinal injuries. I was already on the bank by the time he arrived to chase the others but I suspect he made a special trip for me when someone reported on a walkie talkie that a stupid tourist thought he could wade the whole stream. I don’t know that for sure but he openly glared at me until I left the scene of the crime and his fixed hostile stare.

Sniff. Maybe the Canon is only in a coma. For now, it’s in intensive care, waiting for a sign of life before pulling the final plug. If the rain stops today, I’ll try drying it with that foot cleaner/ air compressor at Seolbong Park I use to blow the dust out of the laptop once a month.