This is it.

It’s Hallasan Day.

Let’s go climb a mountain, people!

Today I really was on tenterhooks over this hike; I’d been keeping my eye on the weather all week, and obviously I had given up some of my precious exploring time to be sure I was fighting fit to make it the 1,947m to the top. Therefore when I set off at 7am for the bus, I wasn’t too excited to see this when I reached the bus stop…

Somewhere under that massive dense ball of cloud is the mountaintop of Hallasan.

Now, if you are slightly new to hiking mountains you might not be aware of this, but mountains which are tightly traffic controlled i.e. usually lofty, very popular ones in national parks, can be closed to hiking in poor weather conditions. It is the national park staff who make this judgement call, not you as an individual hiker, so you are at their mercy. Although I didn’t have the best feeling about today, I kept my fingers crossed, jumped on the bus and made my way to the national park entrance.

On arrival I found I had plenty of company on my climb. To summit Hallasan, there are only two trails you can take – Seongpanak and Gwaneumsa – the first trail allows 1000 people per day and the second is limited to 500 (these numbers are spread out at different times across the morning to prevent crowding). You need to book which trail you intend to use to go up, but you can actually come down either route. My plan today is to head up Seongpanak, a slightly longer but less rigorous trail with limited view as it’s forested, and then come down Gwaneumsa, the route that is very steep but has views over the valley.

I approach the trail entrance and a nice lady checks my email reservation, scans my QR code, and wishes me a good hike. I would like to point out right now that while at the base of the mountain when I start hiking the trail looks like this…

…the summit is still completely fog covered. However, there are no signs, messages, or announcements anywhere indicating you cannot summit. The lady waving me in also hasn’t mentioned anything at all and everyone around me looks game. I take a bit of heart from this.

Look, I’m not going to draw this out. This is what my hike looked like…

It was a bog standard upward march through the trees; walking over hemp carpet paths, stones, and some stairs. There was nothing of outstanding value or interest to this climb. Except this stone. I felt good when I reached it at least.

My point here being that for all of the hype about climbing Hallasan, all the blogs that say you must do it, the excitement I had felt beforehand…well, I wasn’t really feeling it today. Maybe it was because of the path I chose, I might have been more enthused had I gone with the rock climbing route first? Maybe I was still a little under the weather and nervous I might flake out halfway up? Possibly just the anxiety about the uncertainty of summiting given the fact it had started to rain/hail?

Yup, it had started to rain with a side serving of light hail. And the temperature was getting a tad chill. Not a good sign.

But I marched onwards.

I would also like to inform you at this point my waterproofs currently suck. They SUCK. And it’s my own fault I will admit. Before I headed for Korea I washed them and re-waterproofed them. Or so I thought. I slightly forgot (given it’s been about 10 years since I last did them) that when you wash them, normal detergent is the devil, you must only use waterproofing wash. Washing them normally and then applying waterproofing spray afterwards doesn’t work, it’s a two-step process you need. Which is why I am now rather soggily wet.      

At some point I came across this sign…

And I took it as a sign. Despite my wetness, average hiking motivation levels, and my now constant dripping nose; this sign gave me hope. Why? Because it shows that according to the national park peeps, the hardest part of this hike is right in the centre, just before you hit the final shelter. This is labelling the first section and the summiting part as being less difficult than the middle. Surely, if we are being allowed to climb in this weather all the way to the shelter, the summiting section should be open as it is not as technical to climb, right?

Wrong. Very wrong.

Even before I spot the shelter I am suspicious by the sheer number and clumping together of people coming back down given that it was still early in the morning, and then I spot the ropes and chains barring the entrance to the summit path.

I feel…well, not much.

Hmm. This is odd.

I somehow expected to feel a sense of crushing defeat. Frustration. Upset. Something along these lines. But I don’t. Not really.

I wander into the shelter, which is an actual building as opposed to a sleeping shelter, and find it rammed with people sitting spread out across the floor, dripping wet, literally steaming, and munching food. I join them. Squash myself into a bit of a corner and chew on my snacks while listening to a pre-recorded message in Korean which I 100% don’t understand but can 99% guess is telling me the summit is closed today.     

A couple of ladies are gathered nearby and one of them asks me where I am from (got that one down pat) and if I am hiking alone (another one checked off my list). I am then offered sliced apples (possibly because I am looking pitiful and solo – the nemesis of Korean people) and one of the ladies tells me she has the same jacket as me in her bag (no doubt able to fulfil its purpose in life better than mine right now).

I assess my situation and toy with the idea of waiting a little to see if the weather alters, if there may be a chance that the gate to the summit unlocks; but as anyone who hikes knows, once you’ve sweated a little making your climb, sit for a few minutes in a cooler higher altitude, you start to freeze. Even in a building filled with people, I can already feel the chill creeping in, and seeing everyone packing up for the descent makes me think they know better than I and the mountain is indeed closed for the day.

Right. Phase two.

Waterproofs (if I can call them that) off. Pack open. Jumper out and on. Yum, instant warmth. Next comes my secret weapon, the $5 bright yellow calf-length plastic mac I bought yesterday at the convenience store in preparation for this very situation. I tell you what, hiking for 8 months in the wilderness didn’t teach me nothing. I certainly know what my strengths and weaknesses are when hiking and I know when not to fuck around with my safety. I have finally learned to prepare! And let me tell you, the mac is actually excellent. I have seen Koreans aplenty, including a large number around me now, wearing these macs around towns and up mountains. I will admit, I scoffed a little. But no more, today the mac is king!

My return to the mountain base is at a swift pace (as most descents are), but I do decide to make the extra sideways trek on the trail to see these two sights…

One is a volcanic cone lake and the other is a view off the side of Hallasan and if you see that shiny light off to the right, that’s the reflection of the sea!

Right, 5 minutes here was enough. It’s still raining. No more getting chilled. Speaking of which I did actually stop off down the trail when I found a Korean girl huddled on the floor and shivering. She was wearing a mac but really thin clothes. I could hear someone slightly off the path, who was obviously her friend, calling to the park rangers on the mini mountain train (there is a small seated motor thing and a small track that can take people and supplies up and down the mountain for maintenance and emergencies). I could tell she was obviously getting her help, but I did take off my pack and give her the two carbon hand warmers I was carrying –  I asked her if she was cold and then mimed to open them – which she did and thanked me for. They saved me on the AT in winter I can tell you, and are really surprisingly warm and last for hours. Emergency supplies, people!

And that was it really. I get to the base, make sure I get my stamp for my national park passport, hop on the bus, and home for a hot shower.

So that was my Hallasan let-down hike. Well, not really a let-down.

It was a good levelling and tempering experience. It helped me realise that actually EVERYTHING I am currently doing is new and positive and fulfilling in some manner, even if it’s not in a way I thought or hoped.

I hiked Hallasan Mountain on Jeju Island. 1500m of it. Could I have made it to the top? Yes. There isn’t any doubt, I would have been perfectly able to do it. Instead, I got to have the experience of a mountain closure, the confidence to know I am prepared for poor weather conditions, the little warmth and joy in my heart to have spoken to some more Korean people and have them be nice to me, and to hopefully have helped someone who needed it.

And that all feels pretty good to me.

Not going to lie though. The fact that this was the view of Hallasan for the final two days of my Jeju trip kind of felt like someone was rubbing my nose in it a bit…

But thinking that also made me chuckle quietly to myself.

It seems this trip was going to be all about the life lessons and personal growth; the next trial coming the following day.

I had made the decision that I wanted to visit Jeju Stone Park as one of my last destinations. No, this isn’t a Korean Stonehenge, but more of an indoor/outdoor museum of stone statues depicting aspects of Jeju life, including examples of Jeju’s most famous figures, called Dol Hareubangs, that you find scattered all over the island. If you aren’t familiar with them, they look like this…

The term Dol Hareubang translates to ‘Old Grandfather’, but I can’t really tell you much more than that because a) there isn’t a lot of information about their purpose, they are a folk thing with no real written records, and b) because I didn’t make it to the stone park to give you more information.

Admittedly, I set out with a sketchy bus plan to say the least. I had the number of the bus that should have taken me past the park, but couldn’t find any reliable info on the bus times. So I just rolled with it, headed to my regular bus stop, and checked the board for what buses were in the vicinity. It seemed the one I wanted wasn’t due for an hour, so, I made what I thought was a crafty plan (you are already getting the gist of this, right?). It seemed one of the upcoming buses would take me about 20 minutes in the direction I wanted to go and, if I was brave enough to try, I could then get off (in the middle of somewhere/nowhere) and there should be another bus shortly thereafter that would go in the direction of the stone park. Hmm. A challenge. I like it. I feel up for this.

But, to add another twist to my travel tale, the transfer bus still won’t be going to the stone park, it deviates a few miles from the entrance, however it does pass by Saryeoni Forest Path, another place I had been considering visiting for a relaxing walk. If I wanted to be even more daring, I could take my chances on the buses, get off at the forest, take a walk and then…get back on a following bus later in the day that would then take me to the stone park! Woah. Sounds an epic idea, what could go possibly wrong?!

I lost my T-card, that’s what.

T-what now?

That little cash filled card that serves to take me around Korea via public transport is what.

My plan worked…I was feeling a slight smug happiness that my bus skills were so finely honed…right up until I got off at the forest, put my hand in my back pocket for my card and…nothing. It was gone. Probably still happily sitting on my bus seat where it had fallen out of my pocket and was now travelling solo around Jeju until someone rescues it and has 20 free bus rides on me.   

The panic that set in was instantaneous and overwhelming. I could feel my heart beat faster and my breathing become unsteady. I double checked, triple checked and quadruple checked my pockets, my wallet and my pack. It was gone. I was standing at a bus stop in the middle of Jeju with nothing but forest around me and I could feel myself wanting to sit down and cry. So that’s what I did. I crossed the road, went into the bathroom, and had my first mini breakdown since getting to Korea.     

I would like to immediately clarify something here. This actually wasn’t a big issue. At all. I have in my backpack a wallet containing cash and a functioning mobile phone. I have enough cash and internet capability to complete my whole day’s plan and then return home. I am not stuck. I am not even really in the middle of nowhere. I have dozens of people around me at the forest path and it’s located on a road serviced by buses.

But for whatever reason, be it illness after-effects, still pondering over yesterday’s not quite success, general tiredness by constant travel and being in a foreign country, sad news from home; there was obviously something that had just built up enough inside me that I wasn’t paying attention to and today it came crashing down with the loss of my poor T-card, my constant trusty Korean companion from Day 1 (well, about day 5 really, but I was being a bit dramatic here remember).   

I had a bit of a debate with myself in the toilet cubicle (luckily it was a nice enough one). Now, I was feeling a bit down and distraught, I could just call the whole day a loss, get on a bus and go home and sort myself out. Or, I could just go walk. Try and enjoy the forest. Exhibit a little bit of common sense knowing that this situation is easily resolved if I just put a bit of thought and effort into it.

So that’s what I did. I walked.

And the forest was nice. I’ve learned that I have two new tree species that I love very much – Korean Red Pine (Pinus densiflora) and Ginko (Ginkgo biloba). The forest here was filled with tall pines. I find them quiet and comforting. I think this is because not much tends to grow under pine due to the acidic nature of the soil in which they thrive, aided by the fact pines are thirsty and tend to monopolise water supplies. Therefore the ground is soft, springy, and mulchy to walk on from pine needles and seems to absorb all sounds.   

I didn’t attempt to go off-piste today, I simply walked the path that was in front of me. I had no idea where it was going, and actually, it didn’t really go anywhere. I walked until I felt I had walked enough and simply turned around and came back.

But it was worth it. It was relaxing. It was near silent. I only saw a handful of people the further I walked.

On my return to the boardwalk section of the woods near the entrance, I sat down on a bench. I watched other people taking photos of themselves, still forever marvelling at the need for the perfect model selfies, and observed them walking and talking together. It dawned a little on me that this trip is possibly the most soundless I have ever been in my life. If I say a handful of words in a day I am doing well. This trip is certainly making me listen, think, and evaluate.

My forest experience lasted longer than I intended, and my plans for the stone park today are well and truly scuppered. However, I have decided that is OK. What I really want is to rectify my T-card issues and end the day secure in the knowledge I once again have an easy and reliable travel method, and then I will feel better about myself. This is just another challenge.

As I head for the bus, I clock a Korean chap standing off to the side of the exit and notice him looking at me. Urgh. I really don’t have it in me to have an awkward language exchange right now that will make me feel a bit more rubbish. But I am surprised, because the only people I have found that will look at or talk to me are: my AirB&B hosts, children who gape in shock/fear of me as a foreigner or older kids have a tendency to shout hello at me in English, and little old ladies and gents (halmoni and halabeoji). This chap is probably in his 30’s and is holding a camera. He really shocks me when he clearly steps into my path and speaks to me in excellent English. He apologises for bothering me but tells me that he has been taking photos in the forest and that I am in one of the photos that he would like to put onto the internet. I’m not going to lie, my instant thought – I feel right now like I am in a drama scene right now. Not for any weird or romantic reason, but because I have seen this played out in a drama where a chap took pictures at Namsan Tower and asked a woman her permission to use them as her face was showing in it. This is exactly what he is doing to me. And it makes me smile. People actually do this for real! I guess it’s a Korean thing around privacy, because in the UK no-one is that bloody polite about stuff like this. The chap waves his camera slightly in front of me, he wants me to approve the picture, but to be honest I didn’t even look, because I was just so delighted and shocked at this very nice person and my drama imagination overload. I simply tell him that it is fine and I don’t mind at all, before then adding as he starts to turn away that it was very kind of him to ask and I appreciated it, to which of course he bows.

It’s silly how the smallest things can cheer us.

But it did.

Just that small warm feeling of someone being nice carried me onto the bus with cash in hand ready to tackle the money eating machine at the door (first time doing this), gave me a mental lift to locate a local GS shop near to my home bus stop and the energy to converse with the lady inside to ask if she had a T-card to buy and if I could add money to it (mission successful). I was feeling buoyed enough that I also ventured into a Auntie Anne’s that I spotted, ordered a pretzel and felt like I had just eaten manna from heaven after I devoured it. This also reminded me that I could probably do with some hot food to top off my evening and walked through the daily market for another round of black pork croquettes.

Small things. It’s the tiniest of things that can pull us down or lift us up. I’m learning this each day. About how I view the world I am living in, the people in it, and my own abilities to bend or break with each new situation. This reminds me that I want to encourage everyone I meet to travel. To step outside your comfort zone for just a little while. To see and do things you usually wouldn’t. To meet new people even if only for the briefest moment. To help find out who you really are as a person. To gain strength from it to take comfort from it.

And suddenly I am prompted to remember the tag line from The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (amazing film if you haven’t seen it by the way – watch it), so I am going to steal them and leave them here for you with a collection of my final day photos from the Jeju Olle Trail Route 7 while I depart…

 “To see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, draw closer, to find each other and to feel. That is the purpose of life.”