A Day for Dreams
About 90 minutes from Changwon by bus is the island of Namhae - twin fingers of verdant mountain sloping down in all directions to the sea. Mainly pastoral, it's cove-bordered valleys are terraced with crops of garlic and herds of black goats. Beat-up push tractors and traditional woven carrying baskets (on stout wooden frames - ouch!) out number cars on the nearly empty roads. Meanwhile high above, the mountain sumits are adorned with brightly painted temples that glitter like jeweled crowns in the sun. It's easy to see why they call Namhae "Dream Island".
My dream began early Monday morning - about 12 am. After a busy-but-good day with friends in the garden, I decided I needed to get away. Slow down. Be close to the water. Salt images filled a long and restful night, and mid-morning I was on a bus, on my own, headed for the island.
Even if I had never reached Namhae, the drive on its own would have been worth the trip. Following the coast, on narrow roads undulating with the pristine hillsides, it's a more scenic route than most in this (very scenic) country. Added to which, a telephone call from my best friend in Canada and some great music over the bus speakers made the time fly by.
Arriving at the main terminal in tiny Namhae town, I encountered my first problem. There was no bus going to the temple that I wanted to see - Boriam, at the summit of the tallest mountain. And I couldn't understand the many helpful conductors trying to give me other options (in a rapid, heavily accented Korean dialect). After several minutes, and lots of map waving, finally one of them shrugs, tells me to get on his bus (to where?), and off I go!
The bus lets me off in the middle of nowhere, at an unmarked junction of two roads. Motioning me towards the upper road, he guns the motor and heads down the lower, leaving me with the sunshine and birds. And 3 back-pack toting strangers - a group of Seoul men on their first trip to the island. Though separate, we set off together in the direction indicated by the now invisible bus.
Luckily for me (and my appalling sense of direction!), the men speak pretty good English. Even luckier, they were born in the same year as me - making it possible for us all to be "friends" rather than "junior"/"senior" to each other. After a slow beginning, we end up spending the entire (brilliant!) day together.
The walk to the park gates of Boriam takes about 45 min. It winds gradually up the slope of the mountain, past glittering lakes and expansive ocean views. At the gate, we get lucky again - a park ranger in his empty jeep offers us a lift the rest of the way, saving us another gruelling 2 hours+ of walking (and the park entrance fee, which the smiling woman waived when we got into the jeep). This is the life!!
At the summit, we find rocky, pine lined trails strewn with festive paper lanterns in preparation for Buddha's Birthday on the 15th. The temple is freshly painted, gleaming in the mid-day sun, breathtaking on its cliff-top perch. I can't stop smiling. The many elderly pilgrims in their rough-spun, undyed Buddhist garments are also smiling. It is a beautiful, beautiful day.
From the summit, a rocky trail leads through an unexpected cave and down the side of the mountain. My 3 new friends and I hike for another hour under the cool canopy of new leaves, laughing at the scrambling antics of the many lizards along the way, to reach the road to Sangju and the beach. The land opens up into a patchwork of garlic farms and tiny villages, pines giving way to acacia, then to cherries, then to palms.
The beach is wide, white sand, nearly deserted. Wading out into the gentle surf, the water is almost warm. When waves break, we can see the torpedo outlines of schools of fish suspended in the sunlight. Further out in the bay, they leap in the dozens, silver bodies flashing above the blue-green.
When it's time for me to go, the men walk me back to town, help me find a bus to take me back to Namhae town and the main terminal. My last view of Sangju was the 3 of them standing by the side of the road, waving. Back at Namhae, I arrive just in time for a bite of dinner before the last bus of the day back home. From which I watch the sun set over the water, receding into the dark and distance as all dreams do.
My dream began early Monday morning - about 12 am. After a busy-but-good day with friends in the garden, I decided I needed to get away. Slow down. Be close to the water. Salt images filled a long and restful night, and mid-morning I was on a bus, on my own, headed for the island.
Even if I had never reached Namhae, the drive on its own would have been worth the trip. Following the coast, on narrow roads undulating with the pristine hillsides, it's a more scenic route than most in this (very scenic) country. Added to which, a telephone call from my best friend in Canada and some great music over the bus speakers made the time fly by.
Arriving at the main terminal in tiny Namhae town, I encountered my first problem. There was no bus going to the temple that I wanted to see - Boriam, at the summit of the tallest mountain. And I couldn't understand the many helpful conductors trying to give me other options (in a rapid, heavily accented Korean dialect). After several minutes, and lots of map waving, finally one of them shrugs, tells me to get on his bus (to where?), and off I go!
The bus lets me off in the middle of nowhere, at an unmarked junction of two roads. Motioning me towards the upper road, he guns the motor and heads down the lower, leaving me with the sunshine and birds. And 3 back-pack toting strangers - a group of Seoul men on their first trip to the island. Though separate, we set off together in the direction indicated by the now invisible bus.
Luckily for me (and my appalling sense of direction!), the men speak pretty good English. Even luckier, they were born in the same year as me - making it possible for us all to be "friends" rather than "junior"/"senior" to each other. After a slow beginning, we end up spending the entire (brilliant!) day together.
The walk to the park gates of Boriam takes about 45 min. It winds gradually up the slope of the mountain, past glittering lakes and expansive ocean views. At the gate, we get lucky again - a park ranger in his empty jeep offers us a lift the rest of the way, saving us another gruelling 2 hours+ of walking (and the park entrance fee, which the smiling woman waived when we got into the jeep). This is the life!!
At the summit, we find rocky, pine lined trails strewn with festive paper lanterns in preparation for Buddha's Birthday on the 15th. The temple is freshly painted, gleaming in the mid-day sun, breathtaking on its cliff-top perch. I can't stop smiling. The many elderly pilgrims in their rough-spun, undyed Buddhist garments are also smiling. It is a beautiful, beautiful day.
From the summit, a rocky trail leads through an unexpected cave and down the side of the mountain. My 3 new friends and I hike for another hour under the cool canopy of new leaves, laughing at the scrambling antics of the many lizards along the way, to reach the road to Sangju and the beach. The land opens up into a patchwork of garlic farms and tiny villages, pines giving way to acacia, then to cherries, then to palms.
The beach is wide, white sand, nearly deserted. Wading out into the gentle surf, the water is almost warm. When waves break, we can see the torpedo outlines of schools of fish suspended in the sunlight. Further out in the bay, they leap in the dozens, silver bodies flashing above the blue-green.
When it's time for me to go, the men walk me back to town, help me find a bus to take me back to Namhae town and the main terminal. My last view of Sangju was the 3 of them standing by the side of the road, waving. Back at Namhae, I arrive just in time for a bite of dinner before the last bus of the day back home. From which I watch the sun set over the water, receding into the dark and distance as all dreams do.
posted by Roberta | 1:13 PM
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