Ulleung-do

The tiny town of Dodong-ri, Ulleung-do, South Korea.

At the moment, I am feeling reminiscent towards a particular island I visited in the fall of 2011.  To some Europeans, it was Dagelet, to some Japanese, Takeshima, but to me and the Koreans:  Ulleung-do.  This obscure little island is forlorn, way out amongst the middle of the East Sea (to Koreans), and by that, I mean the Sea of Japan (to everyone else).  It was to this little island that my girlfriend, a friend, and I decided to go when we had a long weekend break.  

Before I pine on about the island`s natural beauty and Pleistocene era feel, a brief word about the confusion of names associated with all of these places.  The Koreans and the Japanese are not particularly fond of each other - to put it mildly.  I have to side with the Koreans on this one: continuous invasion and attack on the Korean peninsula throughout history, but more importantly, a brutal subjugation and rape of the country during the Second World War.  The Imperial Japanese are infamous for some pretty nasty stuff – see the rape of Nanking – and much of that reputation is justified in what they did to Korea.  Anyhow, the main point is that the two countries still bicker about what seems like trivial matters.  Ulleung-do is one of these.  However, the ownership of Ulleung-do carries some very important weight: fishing grounds.  These fishing grounds are vitally important to both countries.  Now, compound that with the fact that the even tinier islands of Dok-do (Matsushima) are almost in the middle of the two countries, and the ownership of Ulleung-do becomes paramount.  Whoever controls Ulleung-do has precedent to claim ownership to Dok-do and its fishing grounds. 

Enough of this historical context:  We left Seoul at 3 a.m. on a bus heading eastward to the coast.  Even the beer I drank in Hongdae that night didn`t put me to sleep.  When we finally arrived at the port, it was morning.  Waiting for 2 or 3 hours in this absolutely dead port was actually fun, but we were ready to go by the time we climbed onto the hydrofoil that would zip us across the water.  Our friend was terrified of boats – and heights, and… – and she was in misery by the bouncing, slamming of the boat and the braying of waves.  It truly was a hellish ride.  We arrived into a small fishing port in the middle of the pouring rain.  Settling in, we realized our entire tour spoke no English, and were all quite old.  We zipped off to see the much publicised Dok-do, and that was the last thing we did with our group (for the record, a three hour return trip to see some rocks sticking out of the ocean is not that exciting).

The humble ferry port on Ulleung-do.

We explored the island at our own leisure, meeting some new friends along the way.  The night ended with drinking on the side of the pier, with the bulbs of squid boats all around us, no one else in sight.  Only present company, a dock full of boats, and still water.  In the morning, we climbed a mountain close to Dodong-ri, the main port on the island.  From there, our eyes could see for what felt like hundreds of kilometers across the Sea of Japan.  From the summit of this tiny mountain we could see the tiny town sandwiched between great rising plateaus and peaks of rock and moss.  Beyond, the sea met the town with great ferocity, waves crashing into the reinforced pier.  But from this high outpost, the sea looked like a flat blanket.  My visceral surroundings, the waves, the mountains and the rocks all covered with moss and vegetation, I felt like I was in a world that existed millennia ago.  I had thought that this type of rugged paradise had disappeared with the ice age.  The only signs of modernity were the rugged little town below us and the windy road in and out.  This is not the type of place you should go if you want clubs, if you want beaches, tourist stalls, knick knacks, pizza, pasta, and that troupe of inauthenticity that follows popular or famous tourist spots.   However, if you want squid, if you want pumpkin, if you want astounding beauty, this must be the place! 

Ulleungdo's beautiful coastal road.

When we eventually hopped a cab out of town, and around the coast, the island`s anachronistic nature was even more evident.  Sheer rock face straight down until the ocean and the crashing waves was only separated by a tiny road.  This perimeter road had seen many boulders crash down, proven by the one lane sections of construction along the way.  The road wound around the edge of the island, sometimes through tunnels, arches, but mostly out of the side of the mountain itself.  We got out of the cab when we felt the time was right: a tiny town sitting between two mountain peaks with a rocky approach to the water.  This town had a few houses and one road leading in to the interior of the island.  Apart from these evident manmade structures, there was nothing to suggest any life: a desolate, but beautiful town.  The silence all around us was only punctuated by the sparse passing of cars.  After relaxing on its craggy beach for the afternoon, we decided to head back to Dodong-ri, the main town.  With absolutely no traffic on the road, we waited until the first sight of headlights and tried our best at hitchhiking (for the record I thought it would not work, but the others were more optimistic).  The jeep pulled over, and we climbed in.  I told him the name of the town.  He nodded, and that was the last thing he did.  He said something that resembled ``bye`` when he dropped us off.  I think hitchhiking might only exist in Ulleung-do, because I have never seen it elsewhere in Korea. 

Like any proper Korean coastal city, Dodong-ri had great sha-shimi.   It means raw fish.  When most people think of raw fish, they think of sushi – which may or may not contain raw fish – but sha-shimi is the real deal.  Quite literally it is only a fish that has been sliced up.  Dip the raw slices in soy or sesame oil, with some wasabi.  Combined with a handful of side dishes, Ulleung-do’s sha-shimi did not disappoint.  Another one of Ulleung-do’s delicacies is its own variation of stone pot bibimbap, as well as a large market for dried squid and pumpkin.

It's Dok-do (and it's raining)!

Ulleung-do lacks the popular amenities that would help it become a tourist icon.  It manages well, with a small economy based around squid fishing and tours.  These are the tours that scuttle people between Ulleung-do and Dok-do, allowing them to cement their national pride over a series of rocks in the ocean.   Otherwise, you are left to explore the island – that Spielberg missed as the setting for Jurassic Park – on your own accord.  There is no airport here.  The only way on and off is on the daily ferry.  There are the occasional norae-bangs, if you can find them, and if you are into drunken karaoke.  Otherwise, you make your own experience by exploring the mountains, the trails, the temples, and the towns.  A word about the weather: it rains a lot! In fact, I`d say it rained almost the entire time.  It rained so much that one morning; I felt this irrational fear that there would be a landslide.  I couldn`t shake it.  Obviously, there wasn`t a landslide, so you shouldn’t worry about that.

Ulleung-do is definitely, without a doubt, with absolute conviction, one of the most interesting, most beautiful, and most removed places I`ve been so far.  I can`t underscore the subjective journey it was.  Whenever I thought about it, it felt like I was on the edge of the Earth.  I felt so far away from home, from the familiar, and from the normal.  Being out on that island was one of the highlights of my entire year in Korea, and it was the total embodiment of why I travel.  To see things like this: 

A view of Ulleung-do's lonely coast.