Simply Chejudo_world

Simply Chejudo

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Was I in Korea, or wasn\'t I? A good question as the plane touched down in Cheju Airport to a backdrop of palm trees and orange groves. Later, travelling round Chejudo, I was to discover a wealth of \'un-Korean\' phenomena: extinct volcanoes, curiously-eroded rock formations, subtropical flora and fauna, a long-isolated breed of horses, generations of women who\'ve earned their livings diving for shellfishnot to mention those long-suffering black pigs.

As you\'ve probably guessed, I was indeed in Korea; Chejudo being the largest, most southerly and atypical of its islands. Tourist brochures like to plug Chejudo as \'Korea\'s Hawaii\'; a trite comparison that at least works on a superficial level; both places sharing volcanic landscapes, a similar line in vegetation and a surfeit of honeymooning couples. Korean and Japanese newlyweds swarm to Chejudo to enjoy and be photographed enjoying - the white sand and blue coral.

Picking up my hire car, I drove out of Cheju city along palm-lined boulevards and headed west onto the single-lane coastal road. It took about 70 minutes to drive to Seogwipo on the other (south) side of the island, and find and check into a \'yogwan\' (cheap family-run hotel).

Why Seogwipo? As Chejudo\'s second city, it\'s a good base from which to explore the more interesting southern part of the island. It\'s also the site of the most spectacular of Korea\'s spanking new football stadiums. Eulogised by TV commentators during the recent World Cup, Seogwipo Stadium with Hallasan (Korea\'s highest mountain) rising out of the mists on one side, and the gently lapping sea on the other certainly takes some beating.

A walk along a cliff and down to the beach near Seogwipo allowed a close-up of the lava rock formations. A little like psychological ink blot tests, these pocked boulders, weathered by centuries of wind, rain and sea, end up resembling just about anything you care to imagine. Staring at the lava, you begin to see how a certain collective longing might have created the penis-headed \'harubang\' statuettes that have become Chejudo\'s symbol across Korea..

Further along the same cliff-top, I caught my first sight of the \'Haenyo\' or female divers of Chejudo. The island has long held a greater proportion of women to men; a fact generally attributed to the precarious lifestyle of male islanders: fishing on the high seas and periodically having to fight off the Mongols, the Japanese and neighbouring Korean provinces. As a result, the women learned to support their families on their own. Numbering around 30,000 in the 1950s, but down to four figures now, these mostly older \'ajummas\' (married women) dress themselves in thick rubber wetsuits, with nets and fishing baskets slung over their shoulders and dive without respiratory equipment for anything up to two minutes at a time. The catch, formerly for personal subsistence, is more selective these days - for abalone and conches, often for export to Japan.

The following morning, I drove the short distance to the Shilla Hotel, a plush but soulless building with a beachside location. Strolling through the landscaped garden was like walking across a French impressionist\'s canvas. Overgrown with oilseed rape flowers - a Chejudo staple whose shades of yellow swayed and shifted with the breeze, the footpath led to a cliff-top view of Chungmun Beachthe island\'s most celebrated. A little too chilly in April for swimming or sunbathing, the sands were instead crowded with waddling brides and statuesque grooms, each with their personal photographer in tow.

In the foothills of Sungsan, a small volcanic mountain on the east coast, I came across a couple of the island\'s horses. During a 100 year occupation by the Mongols, Chejudo was used as an equine breeding ground. Presumably a few escaped or got left behind, as those that remain today bear a close resemblance to the classical short and sturdy Mongolian steeds. The majority of the island\'s stock live further inland on vast grazing pastures, a fraction of which I got to glimpse from the car\'s window while speeding back towards the airport.

I almost forgot to mention the black pigs. I found them on my last stop in Cheju Folk Village, a museum of reconstructed 19th century habitations. There, among the thatch-roofed black lava houses and shamanistic stone totems, stands an open-air hole-in-the-floor toilet. Ever practical, Chejudo\'s inhabitants developed a latrine system in which human waste fell directly into a pig penand you know how picky pigs are about their food. I should say I tried some black pig \'samgyupsa\' (barbecued pork) during my trip. No complaints. Very tasty indeed.

Had I been in Korea, or hadn\'t I? Obviously I had. But, as the plane took off bound for Seoul, another question formed itself: \'Had the place felt like Korea, or hadn\'t it?\' To which my answer was more ambiguous: \'Wellyes and no.\' Not exactly Korea. And certainly not Hawaii. Better to call it simplyChejudo.