Jeju Olle – Route 11
The peak of Hallasan jutted up and out of a shroud of mist, adamant about keeping an eye on its minions. The rain on and off today, but soothing all the same as it was still relatively humid as I trudged my way up Moseul-bong amongst a collection of burial mounds and down the otherside through a plethora of farms; the smell of fertilizer rich in the air.
A sign soon warns me that I was headed into a mobile signal dead zone. And before long I find myself amongst the densely clustered woodland of Sinpyeong Gotjawal. Trees passionately entwine their branches around one another as ferns fight it out for space amongst the mulchy earth. A woodpecker drums from somewhere deep and distant and a pair of Jays cackle as I pass. A call shrill and eerie rings out that I can’t identify; amongst the pitter patter of rain it creates a sombre tone. Whatever it is, it knows I’m here. For I was an intruder in their beautiful slice of world. I guess I always will be.
Exiting the forest. Headed in a northerly trajectory I could see a succession of planes departing and arriving from the islands busy airport. I was now halfway through my journey.
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