A cross country tour of South Korea

Year 2024 was a very eventful year for Phil and I; we got married and basked in celebration and love from our friends and family across Canada and Europe. Almost a year after, we are back to endulging our love for one of the oldest and traditional institutions - starting with witnessing a dear friend’s wedding in Hong Kong and then a pedalling-fueled honeymoon in South Korea.

Around the time we had started biking, we learned of the cross-country bike trails that were set up in South Korea. The idea of being able to bike through the entire country in a dedicated bike infrastructure was very intriguing - additionally, for me, being a traveller in the country further piqued my interest. You see, I have visited South Korea many times in the recent years, but the trips were very much family-oriented, focused on spending what little time that was left with my grandmas before they passed on. The prospect of connecting with the culture as a fully-grown, independent adult - rather than a dependent with a crutch to rely on at every single inconvenient misunderstanding or language barrier arose (my Mom) - was magnetic and gave me hopeful enthusiasm.

After months of planning and with a jolt of energy from all the wishes of good fortune, prosperity and delicious wedding cake from Hong Kong, we hopped across the East China Sea to finally embarked on the 633km cross-country journey over 8 days - starting from Incheon (Northwestern point) to Busan (Southeastern point), following the some of the main rivers of the country.

If you complete the cross-country cycling tour, the South Korean government gives you a certification. We picked up this government issued bike passport and stamped our progress at the certification centres throughout the trip, bringing us one step closer to that official recognition of our accomplishment.

My dear friend, Steve, who happened to also have being visiting South Korea at the same time, joined us for the first two days of the trip. We met as children in university where interest in heritage and cultural connection was put aside in pursuit of parties and debouchery. Almost fifteen years later, we found ourselves sharing our appreciation over the first country we both called home while cycling almost 100km together.

Some of the notable things in the first two days:

• The bike infrastructure throughout the trip was absolutely impressive - in these first two days, we went through around 6-8 tunneled lanes dedicated to cyclists and beautiful cliffside roads built along the river. In the city, we came cross bike-only roundabouts, which I hope to see in Berlin someday!
• There were interesting mixes of riders - some who we typically call the cyclists and some are your typical Aunties and Uncles out for a joy ride. The cyclists decked out in lycra and expensive gear would weave in and out of the Aunties and Uncles leisurely riding their bikes while blasting Korean Schlager or ballad music, occassionally stopping to forage along the road.
• All riders were united in their complete and absolute coverage from sun exposure and smog - a balaklava, shades, and arm sleeves for the cyclists and on top of that, the Aunties wore large sun visors with maximalist prints (think floral but a lot of flowers). Some riders wore skin-coloured masks, I believe to mimick a comforting human face, but to my horror, the resemblance was too close to that of Hannibal Lector and the high speed at which these Hannibal Lectors rode at us certainly did not help.

Between days 3 and 5, we entered the steepest part of the journey - the longest one lasting 5km! These were also my favourite routes in terms of scenary - vistas of the misty mountains, trees blooming with vanila scented flowers, swampy farm lands with sightings of frogs, deers, and herons.

Unfortunately it also coincided with poor weather that left us soaked and exhausted from the rain, and winded (literally at 65km/h wind gust). We decided to cut out a planned detour to visit a dynastic folk village heritage site and move forward to the next part of the journey.

Before this trip, the idea of entering a small town diner full of (mostly older) locals in Korea would have intimidated Phil and I greatly. By day 6, we were barging into these establishments with such ease and comfort - the diners are fast-paced, usually serving noodles or stews to the locals who are on their lunch break. Our mannerisms also begin to transform to fit in with the fellow patrons, mostly involving making noises - from a nearly declarative clearing of one’s throat to a sprinkle of grunts here and there.

We often remark that city folks are the same everywhere - somewhat cold, individualistic, keep things to themselves. One of my biggest realizations on this trip is that rural folks are quite similar everywhere as well - approachable, chatty, and certainly do not mind their own business (and I mean this in a good way). As soon as we got out of Seoul, the big city, greetings from the fellow cyclists came (it’s a bow here, by the way). At different rest stops and restaurants, the Aunties and Uncles chatted away about their bikes, questions about our trip (and once if I knew about ChatGPT), and wished us a nice journey (once in German!). These encounters in short passing showed me so much more warmth and dimensionality to the people here than I experienced in my previous visits.

Here is some grub we had over the journey:

Not going to lie, the last two days were a bit of a struggle. Day 7 included two big climbs that I completely forgot to check for and on Day 8, the last day, we inadvertently took a longer route, lengthening our journey by 10-15km. As we neared Busan, the bows from the fellow cyclists diminished, signaling that we were officially in the City. Upon reaching our destinating and getting that government-issued certification, we celebrated our accomplishment over many bottles of beer and Soju and got our well-deserved rest over the past week.

As our trip nears the end, I realize that this trip is definitely one for the books (blogs?) in many ways. Traveling by bike continues to enchant me in its generous pace, proximity to those around in our journey, and the reward of physical challenges. It brings me such joy that I was able to do this in a country that I’ve been longing to grow in and connect with at a deeper level. The twofolded enchantment and the reward amplified and reverberated throughout the trip and I’ll bask in its magic over the coming months.

I leave you with these persimmon leprechauns that cheered us on on our trip.