Korea DAY 5: (Pt. 2) Seogwipo Jeongbang Waterfall

Read Part 1 HERE !

Having my browsing partner handle the driving portion of the trip was both a blessing and a curse. I had suffered a minimum of two nonsensical tantrums: first in obtaining an IDP (International Driving Permit) and second in retrieving the rental car from the airport. Speed of navigation was also beyond my control. The route and rate at which we travelled was no longer within my ability to adjust on the fly.

That said, I wasn't liberated from being asked the meaning of the fine print underneath the U-turn signs. Such vocabulary was beyond my knowledge. It was also nearly impossible to make out the words while driving through the intersection.

​Smooth, immaculate asphalt and distinct line markings were present on just about every major collector. In particular, multi-use paths saw delineation using blue pavement markings and sodded boulevards.

​We stopped for gas along the way, and I was again confronted with a scenario where my existing Korean vocabulary proved inadequate. Papago and basic English managed to get us by, however.

While we had been assigned an LPG vehicle at the rental shop, we soon discovered that LPG stations were rarer than standard fuel stops. Routing into all gas stations had to be planned strategically as well, for those on the opposing side of the road could not be accessed directly due to the presence of a median. U-turning at the nearest intersection, if permitted, was the only way. ​

​Driving along farm roads, over small overpasses, and down surprisingly linear pathways edged with blue skies and palm trees was an experience unlike any other. The creeks and winding paths reminded me of country roads back home, except exhibiting a far greater degree of maintenance and more frequent sightings of agriculture.

Meanwhile, palm trees had only ever been observed on the West Coast before, in unapologetically sunny Los Angeles. Nature elements evoked memories of roaming North Van. To witness all the above together in one space was an incredible sensation.

​The neighbourhood in which Jeongbang Waterfall was situated revealed itself more developed than expected. Besides a sizable parking lot, inclusive of a dedicated spots for tour buses, the attraction offered on-site indoor plumbing facilities in as spacious one-storey building, a handful of souvenir vendors (retailing gifts and snacks such as tanghulu), and a network of connecting trails.

​Surrounding us were plenty of rental vehicles - surprisingly all white - and domestic tourists that did not shy away from being loud and disruptive, further spitting on the ground after smoking.

Non-Korean visitors were also seen for the first time since landing in Jeju. A few ladies appeared to be joined by a middle-aged man who served as their tour guide.

​The bathroom facility was surprisingly clean, with the toilet boasting decent flushing power - in essence, one could go about their business without needing to dispose used toilet paper in a nearby garbage bin. Lining one of the walls were patterned tiles similar to those seen in our pension. The space also featured a skylight for natural illumination.

​While we could have descended towards the Falls immediately upon arrival, my hunger could no longer be suppressed at the late hour of 2 PM. Of course, my browsing partner saw no need for sustenance, even suggesting deferring consumption to the next stop. But my limbs had begun to weaken. I was adamant that we were overdue for a proper meal.

The nearest restaurant was a ramen eatery that overlooked the steep staircase down to Jeongbang Falls. Instead of trekking further and trying our luck elsewhere in the district, I led the way into the fumy establishment, named Jeju:got Seogwipo Haemul Ramyeon (제주:곶 서귀포 해물라면).​

​At first, I debated a bottle of Jeju-branded ale, but its costly price tag of 9000 KRW halted me in my steps. 

With my browsing partner indifferent to my survival needs, I pointed towards the Jeju Cape Octopus Ramen to share. A Fried Tofu Rice Ball with Jeju Horse Raw Beef would supplement the meal.

​Side dishes operated on a self-serve basis via a tall Stainless steel cart positioned against the wall. The apparatus was stocked with compartmentalized trays and tongs labelled for yellow radish and kimchi respectively

Being anti-raw anything, my browsing partner declined sampling of the 제주 말 육회 유부밥. "More for me then!" I thought, gladly. Though the serving platter was rather dilapidated and the microgreens somewhat scraggly, the inarizushi was delicious overall. The tartare was well-seasoned and devoid of the typical gamey-ness of raw beef. Served atop a plentiful portion of short-grain rice, the inarizushi successfully tied me over until the next sighting of food.

​When the Jeju Cape Octopus Ramen arrived bearing a vivid red-orange hue, I knew that I had made a grave mistake. The broth was awfully fiery, causing all components submerged within to adopt a similar degree of fieriness.

​Instant noodles resided underneath the bountiful portion of clams, mussels, abalone, shrimp, and octopus. Their economic context made me question the hefty price 15,900 KRW, despite their splendidly chewy texture.

​Between urgent gulps of water and frequent bites of danmuji, I succeeded in consuming a few bowls of the seafood-centric concoction before surrendering to its heat. Meanwhile, my browsing partner continued to work at the order. Eventually, due to accidental splashing of the noodles, an octopus-themed apron was obtained from the wall for dine-in use.
Any discard was placed in the plastic-lined bucket adorning the table. Wet wipes were also readily available to reinstate clean hands.

​The signature seafood ramen had been tailored to local preferences. Although I wouldn't willingly subject myself to the torturous degree of spice again, I thoroughly enjoyed their horse tartare inarizushi and unlimited supply of pickled yellow radish. The octopus aprons were adorable as well.
Their chairs, on the other hand, could be made larger, as my backpack fell off twice during our stay.

While our stopover was brief, this eatery left a notable impression in my mind. It appeared to be operated by a team of two, with one member tending to order delivery and customer inquiries and the other cooking and handling the cashier. I had first attempted to place our order in Korean, however the staff quickly - and somewhat irritably - transitioned to English, much to my surprise. There wasn't a smile to be seen from the server, as he continued to hover near his post, phone in hand and head down, after presenting our picks.

The other staff member assisted us with the checkout process. He seemed a tad hesitant when it came to conversing in English, carefully asking "Where are you from?".
Before departing, I posed the question that had been on my mind during the entire meal: "Whose signature is that?" I pointed to the quad of images on the pillar.
"Korean...talent" the man slowly replied.
"Talent?" I repeated, processing the textbook reference.
"Do you know Code Kunst?"
"Ah! The rapper!"
"Yes!"

The exchange was memorable, for "talent" and "entertainers" were not words regularly used in my day-to-day dialogues nor present in the English subtitles of modern-day media.

​Appetite curbed, I declared that I was now ready for exploration.

​​Admission to the Falls was a ridiculously affordable 2000 KRW per person. While it was my browsing partner who had suggested the detour, I settled the 4000 KRW total at seeing the sluggish response of wallet withdrawal. There was no time to waste!

​Access to Jeongbang Falls was anything but accessible. A winding wooden platform of stairs led us down to the coastline.

Drawing near the base of the falls, a group of elderly fisher-people were spotted basking in the sun, surrounded by the colourful plastic vessels. A price list was erected nearby, likely serving as a purchase guide for those looking to indulge in fresh (uncooked) seafood.

Wide stone steps led to the scenic, rocky spot. From this point onwards, one would be required to climb over and around the rocks in order to draw near the sea and adjacent viewpoint. Several stone sculptures could be observed in this area.

View the full album HERE !

​Jeongbang Falls was beautifully misty and grand. Nearing its base, we would experience sprays from the raging streams flowing from high above. Its velocity contrasted drastically with the calm waters surrounding the stone-filled landing area.

​Frankly, the ability to draw near the base of any waterfall was almost unheard of in the GTA. Too many cases of slip-and-falls from uninformed visitors had caused accesses to be closed and fines be issued for trespassing.

Impressive to me was the sheer amount of discipline exercised by visitors of Jeongbang Falls. Most, if not all, donned appropriate, close-toed footwear for the excursion. Those that regarded the rocky stretch with uncertainty merely captured photos at a distance instead of descending down to the comparatively slippery base. Their stays were also reasonable in terms of duration: no one "hogged" a photo spot for an incredulous period of time. The space was peaceful, despite seeing decent levels of visitors and tourists.

Such profound acts of respect and common sense were immensely refreshing to me. The detour was actually enjoyable, unlike North America's overcrowded, dismal nature attractions with steep admission fees, barren gravel lots, and port-a-potties.

The impromptu detour was admittedly worthwhile. That said, we would need to make haste to arrive at O-Sulloc before its 6 PM closure.

​I hurried up the steps, catching a glimpse of a fallen flower bud. The image included two uniquely Jeju-like elements: the national flower of camelia and the porous, widely-available volcanic rock.

Read Part 3 HERE !