'Don't say the T-Word'...Ulleungdo and Dokdo

So, finally, I finished my year’s contract in a hagwan and decided to take some time out to explore Korea a little more. With an extra month left on my working visa I thought I could really go to some of those hard-to-reach spots without having to worry about getting back to work for Monday morning. What a treat, after slogging for a year, it’s time to be a tourist! 

My friend from England Andy is on an extended holiday in Korea right now, so we have the chance to do some exploring together. There has been one place which has intrigued me for ages, the lonely island of Ulleungdo, located 100 miles off Korea’s East coast.

'Lord Of The Rings'. Sans orcs

Ulleungdo is not a terribly easy place to get to, and very few foreigners make the effort, preferring to go to the more famous and accessible Jeju island down south. But being a contrary git, I like to do the things most people don’t do. So, with the indispensable help of my Rough Guide, and my Korean friend Nina, we advance-booked the ferry tickets (ferry crossings are not regular, so you need to book ahead, and you really need to speak Korean!), and away we went.

To get to Ulleungdo, we had to take a ferry from the rather boring port city of Donghae, a 3-hour bus ride from Seoul’s Express Bus Terminal. The arrival of a ferry at Ulleungdo’s Dodong harbour is rather a big event for this mostly pretty sleepy island, so we were immediately accosted by a bunch of ajummas trying to drag us to their respective hostels. The winning ajumma charged us 40,000 won (about £12 each) a night, for a basic but totally acceptable sleep-on-the-floor ‘minbak’ room.

We found out that there was a ferry leaving to go to Dok-do that same afternoon, so we decided to hop on it, and take a trip to Korea’s most easterly point, the disputed island which the Japanese call ‘Takeshima’ (but don’t mention the T-word to the Koreans, especially round these parts!)

 

Andy wondering what all the fuss is about this Dokdo place

My Rough Guide told me that going to Dok-do, despite its notoriety, is not a terribly appealing option except for the most nationalistic of Koreans, and I can kind of see why some might think that:  a 3-hour round trip, punctuated by only 30 minutes of actual time on the island, and costing £20, might seem a waste of time and money. But actually, it turned out to be a rather surreal and entertaining experience, and one which most people don’t get to enjoy.

For the uninitiated: Dok-do has been a source of friction between Korea and Japan for decades. Despite the fact that the international community appears to recognise it as being part of Korea, and the fact that Korea actually has troops stationed there, and has built a landing platform and various buildings on the two rocky outcrops which make up this tiny place, Japanese politicians periodically stir up tensions by reiterating their claim to the island.

Only this year, the Japanese government published new history textbooks for its school children, claiming that Takeshima was in fact part of Japan. More recently, a group of Japanese politicians from a far-right party were denied entry on a planned trip to Dokdo, with the Korean authorities fearing (correctly) that the aim of the trip was a media-stunt, intending to stoke the Japanese public into nationalistic fervour. The Japanese government also banned its staff from using Korean airlines for a while too, as a protest at Korea’s ‘occupation’ of Dokdo. All of these events (and particularly the textbook affair) were a big deal in Korea, who felt rather miffed that Japan seemed to be provocatively flexing its imperialistic muscles (again), at a time when Korea was trying to help the Japanese overcome the problems of the recent earthquake/tsunami disaster.

Throw in the (not unimportant) fact that Japan occupied Korea, rather brutally, for about 40 years, less than a century ago, and you can start to understand how Dokdo has become a focal point for anti-Japan antipathy in particular, and for Korean pride and patriotism in general.

So after crossing the East Sea for ninety minutes, we arrived at Dokdo’s tiny landing platform to a reception of about twenty soldiers saluting our arrival, to the obvious joy of the passengers who cheered and waved back, proudly and sincerely, without a hint of irony (NB – Myself and Andy were the only non-Koreans on a ship of maybe 150 people!).

The banner says something like: "even the children know Dokdo is Korea"

There is only a very small section of Dokdo which is accessible to civilians, so really it was just an opportunity for the Koreans to unfurl their banners (with pro-Korea slogans), wave their flags and take lots of photos. After thirty minutes of breast-beating patriotism, we were herded back into the ship, and as the Dokdo soldiers saluted us farewell, there was more cheering and waving, and possibly a few tears as well.

Squid Genocide.

Ulleungdo is famous for squid-fishing, and you can see squid being brought off boats, squid being killed, squid being skinned and chopped, and squid hanging out to dry, all over the place. There was a veritable fishy genocide going on pretty much continuously to be honest.  So after a fitting dinner of Ojingo Bulgogi (basically squid fried with loads of vegetables – a local speciality, and a damn good one too), and a stroll around the several bars built around the coast, we retired, full of fish and beer, mulling over the randomness of our Dok-do excursion.

View through the mist from Seonginbong

The next day was hiking time, and we dutifully hit the trail for Seonginbong, the island’s biggest and most central peak, standing at just over 900 metres. The hike up wasn’t too difficult (especially as a taxi ride to the mountain entrance shaved off the first few hundred metres), but coming down on the island’s north side was spectacular, and the island’s reputation for its’ ‘Lord of The Rings’ style scenery was justified to us, as we took in epic vistas of rocky mountains, covered in lush greenery, dissolving into cloud at the top, and into the sea at the bottom. 

We walked down over the only flat part of the island, the Nari basin, towards the North coast, where we were met by more huge rock outcrops, gaggles of seagulls, and the beautiful blue of the East Sea crashing onto the craggy shore. Time for a can of Hite before taking the bus along the coastal road (indeed, the only road) back to Dodong.

'Entertainment'

At Dodong, by the docks, an outdoor stage had been built, and me and Andy sat, bemused, as a variety of singers were brought to perform to us and the crowd of a few hundred Korean tourists. Some of the singers were young kids, some were seasoned old pros, but the music was invariably a distillation of what older Koreans seem to like in general: big, wistful, passionate power-ballads, mostly set to the bouncey beat of traditional Korean ‘Trot’ music. Hmmmm. After a few bottles of Makgeoli, it seemed, strangely enough, to sound better, and I was shaking my ass along with all the 50-year old mums and dads, dressed head to toe in unnecessarily brightly-coloured hiking gear.

Coastal Path. Lovely Day.

The next day, after a brunch of absolutely divine (and cheap-as-chips) Mackerel stew, we did the coastal path from Dodong-ri to Jeo-dong-ri. The path has been cut right into the side of the cliff, close to the shoreline, so you can walk in a place you wouldn’t naturally be able to access: it’s a triumph of ambitious yet tasteful Korean engineering, and an example of how Ulleungdo has been made tourist-friendly without spoiling itself. On our route we also stopped at the lighthouse and took in yet more amazing views (to which we were becoming rather blasé by now) before descending down to Jeo-dong-ri for a ‘well-earned’ can of Hite or two. I’m always relieved that daytime drinking is never frowned upon in Korea, and the sight of middle-aged men quaffing down Soju at lunchtime is always reassuring to the British binge-drinker.

The Squidy mascot was a recurring theme

The rest of our day was rather similar to the first: more hiking, amazing views, a ferry ride or two, some nice local cuisine (this time, Mountain-vegetable bibimbap AKA ‘mixed rice’), more ‘entertainment’ at the docks, and plenty more Makgeoli.

If I had to give a complaint about Ulleungdo, it would be that the nightlife is almost non-existent. There is one nightclub at Dodong-ri but it appeared rather empty when we passed it, and after the stage entertainments stopped at just after 9pm, there was very little to do other than drink on the street and attract the attention of the odd local, who might, if you were lucky, speak a little English. This did happen to us one night, when a local guy brought us a load of fried Squid (which makes for a great drinking snack) in exchange for some of our Makgeoli and a little English conversation practice.

But mostly, Ulleungdo is a place for couples or families, or those who want to escape the craziness of urban Korean life and don’t mind a little quiet time. I was never bored, and our daytimes were so tiring enough physically that all-night partying wasn’t really called for anyway.

.

As our ferry left Dodong-ri, and my view of Ulleungdo became ever-smaller from my ferry window, I felt minded to conclude that it is one of the prettiest places I have seen in Korea, and is uniquely tranquil in a country which seems desperate to do everything as fast as possible. Add in the great food, the randomness of Dokdo, the eccentricities and friendliness of the other tourists and the locals, and you are guaranteed a great time in a special place, far away from anything resembling a beaten-track. Just don’t say the T-word.