36 Hours in Namhae — A 36-Hour Journey Through the Island
Made up of 68 islands large and small, Namhae is a destination where being less touched by the crowds is both a drawback and a virtue. There is the fascinating heritage the island has preserved, its beautiful nature, and the stories of the people who fell for it and moved here. Follow along for a sustainable 36 hours in Namhae, drifting lazily beneath warm sunshine and sea breezes.
Words Pitch by Pitch
Photos Park Shinwoo
Day One, 11:00
Once More, the Gateway to Namhae
Namhaegak is a building that symbolized the dawn of South Korea’s tourism industry in the 1970s. When Namhae Bridge, linking Hadong and Namhae, opened in June 1973, Namhae went from being an island to being connected to the mainland. The Namhae locals were not the only ones who welcomed the arrival of ‘the longest suspension bridge in Asia,’ at 660 meters. Some 100,000 people gathered from across the country to watch the opening ceremony, at a time when the population of Namhae County was 130,000. Two years later, Namhaegak went up on a spot with a sweeping view of the bridge.
The now-defunct Haitai Group threw itself into the tourism business in earnest, building Imjingak in the north and Namhaegak in the south. As Namhae Bridge became a travel landmark, Namhaegak, with its lodging and rest facilities, bustled with visitors through the 1980s. At its peak, some 20 photographers reportedly worked there full time, taking commemorative photos and doubling as guides. 1 As travel trends changed, Namhaegak’s heyday gradually became a thing of the past, and the building, by then occupied by a run-down motel, lost its function entirely when Noryang Bridge opened in 2018.
Fortunately, Namhaegak’s story did not end there. Reopened this year as a multipurpose cultural complex, it dreams of a second golden age as the gateway to Namhae. The building’s original features have been preserved, including columns modeled on the main tower of Namhae Bridge, while the first floor and basement, once home to a café, a restaurant and a nightclub, have been turned into exhibition spaces. The second floor, formerly lodging, is now a platform for visitors to Namhae, and the third floor has become an open-air observatory. Especially fascinating is the permanent exhibition, which archives records of Namhae Bridge and Namhaegak from the 1970s through the 2000s and offers a glimpse of the emotional significance these two places hold for locals. There is footage of Park Yonggil, Namhaegak’s last photographer; countless photos taken with the bridge behind them; newspaper articles on the bridge’s opening; a print ad for the Pony car shot against the bridge; even motel room keys. As you wander among the exhibits, the red Namhae Bridge outside the windows stands out like a work of art. “For people here, Namhae Bridge has long stood for the front gate of Namhae. When you come back from being away, it’s only as you cross the bridge that you feel you’ve finally come home.” The words of Kim Hyangsuk, Namhaegak’s docent, lend weight to the place’s reason for being. An outdoor stage and lounge are planned for Namhaegak, and Namhae Bridge is preparing to become a pedestrian-only bridge with a range of new content.
4216 Namhae-daero, Seolcheon-myeon, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do
14:00
A Book to Remember the Trip By
A two-lane road runs down the middle of a street lined with low buildings, few of them taller than two stories. It was once the busiest part of Jijok village, but now only a quiet, drowsy mood lingers. With no trees or high-rises to block the view, the warm Namhae sunlight falls evenly on everything, and even visitors from elsewhere feel completely at ease. Locals know it not by its new address, ‘Dongbu-daero 1876beon-gil,’ but as ‘Jijok Old Street.’ Amado Chaekbang (‘Maybe Bookstore’) is an independent bookstore that opened on this street in March 2018.
Owner Jeong Sujin says Namhae was a place that ‘stays with you after the trip is over.’ Thanks to that (?), she moved to Namhae with no ties to it, and opened Amado Chaekbang drawing on her memories of happily visiting bookstores large and small while traveling. The few shelves and tables that fill the small interior are packed with books reflecting the owner’s interests and tastes, such as the environment and animal rights, along with essays and novels chosen with travelers in mind. Notes with striking passages or short impressions of the books make the time spent in the shop more enjoyable. Despite its modest size, it also has a separate space at the back for families, which is unusual. 1 Like many buildings on this street, the front facing the road served as the shop and the back as the living quarters, and the store keeps that layout. Take your time to notice the owner’s careful touches and warm taste in every corner, then buy a book to prolong the afterglow of your trip to Namhae.
19 Dongbu-daero 1876beon-gil, Samdong-myeon, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do, Thu–Mon 12–5 pm
1 Even behind the empty shops you spot now and then as you walk the old street, people still live deeper inside.
16:00
When an Island Finds Its Pride
At the Simun Intersection in Samdong-myeon, a sturdy, squared-off building stands out at the entrance to the village. If Namhaegak symbolizes Namhae after Namhae Bridge, the stone warehouse symbolizes the Namhae that came before. Built as a communal storehouse for the village’s grain and fertilizer, it is distinguished by its walls of natural stone, split and stacked piece by piece in an era when building materials were hard to come by. When Namhae Bridge opened in the 1970s, the stone warehouses were no longer of use and were naturally left to decay. Of those that remain around Namhae, the one in Simun-ri was built in 1967.
In 2016, Choi Seungyong bought the Simun stone warehouse and restored it to its original form. The Stone Warehouse Project that began there has tried many things to expand the local arts and culture infrastructure, including exhibitions by emerging artists and residency programs. Today it focuses on archiving and reviving Namhae’s own traditions and culture. The exhibition now on view at Namhae Stone Warehouse, ‘Protected Trees, Wa: Namhae Protected Tree Project 2021,’ is one example. The project has sought out and documented 31 protected trees in villages across Namhae, and spreads word of their value through exhibitions, publications and map-making.
After the exhibition, a stop at Aemae House, just across from the stone warehouse, is a must. A vacant building used for various purposes since the 1960s has been converted into a café and residency. The first-floor café serves dishes made with local ingredients. Signature items include leaf bread topped with pesto made from Namhae leaves and aged cheese from Namhae’s Haemoa Farm, and a misugaru (roasted multigrain powder) drink made by Choi Seungyong’s mother in Hadong and sent to the café.
538-1 Bonghwa-ro, Samdong-myeon, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do
20:00
A Room with a View
Sangjujang is a rare hostel in Namhae. Lodging on the island tends to fall at two extremes, either upscale hotels and resorts or pensions and homestays, which is why it stands out. Walk a short way into the residential lanes near Sangju Silver Sand Beach, and a white wall suddenly ends to reveal a huge cherry tree occupying the middle of Sangjujang’s yard. It opened at the end of 2019 in a three-story house that, like other homes in the area, once took in guests as a homestay. The ten rooms on the second and third floors are all doubles, focused squarely on being ‘a space for rest.’ Each room has only a bathroom, a bed, a small table that doubles as storage, and a refrigerator. Everything that might disrupt rest beyond the essentials has been removed. The crowning touch is the view of Silver Sand Beach framed in the wide windows.
A coffee roastery occupies the annex at one side of the yard. Just as the hostel has stripped away everything superfluous to focus purely on rest, Sangjujang’s coffee is likewise limited to drip coffee made from its own roasted beans. If you love coffee, even if you aren’t staying here, stop for a cup in the lounge on the main building’s first floor.
22-1 Namhae-daero 697beon-gil, Sangju-myeon, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do
How did you come to Namhae and start the stone warehouse project?
I was in graduate school when a friend who lived in Namhae told me, “There’s this thing called a stone warehouse, so come and take a look.” I think I had one semester left in my doctoral program. I came during vacation, saw it, and thought it had both cultural-heritage value and economic value, so I bought it. Then I went back, finished my doctoral coursework, came down again, and started the stone warehouse.
So you moved here completely?
Yes. I shut the door behind me and came down. I didn’t leave it open even a crack. If you leave it even slightly open, you might climb back up when things get hard. I moved down in March 2016 and held my first exhibition in July 2016.
When you started Dolchanggo (Stone Warehouse), did you have any role models or references?
At first, with that in mind, I think I visited every similar place in Korea. As I wrote in 2 “Jaesaeng Yeohaeng (Regeneration Journey),” I also sought out places in Japan that run projects in idle spaces. After seeing them all, I thought, ‘Now I can just forget all of it.’ There was nothing worth borrowing in terms of programs or architectural interiors, because I didn’t have the money for it. I couldn’t bring in famous artists or use fine finishing materials.... So when I came back, I forgot it all. I had to start something small from within my own lack of resources.
I imagine the residents of Namhae saw the Dolchanggo project a bit differently.
The residents told me I’d done enough and should leave. ‘We hear you studied in Seoul, too. You’ve given it a try, so go back. Stop worrying your parents.’ That’s the kind of thing they said. Even now, local residents aren’t very interested in the exhibitions or projects held here. But ultimately, every project is about building a backdrop for this place. Our final aim is to create stories for the people of Namhae and help them feel pride in their hometown. When people have pride, they treat visitors well. They feel proud. And they don’t damage the place.
You’ve steadily held exhibitions and run many projects. I’m curious how people responded. Was it successful?
Mostly we failed. Every project we did.
Why do you think that was?
For example, I’d think, ‘If we hold an exhibition on protected trees, 15,000 people will come,’ but about 100 came. Or I’d figure an exhibition budget of around 10 million won would do, and it actually cost 20 million won.... There were a lot of failures like that. But the response from tourists and travelers isn’t bad. They find it fascinating and they like it. Thanks to that, people have started to see Namhae as young. I think that’s a positive thing. I don’t think Namhae used to have that image. It was a warm southern island where you could retire and run a pension by the beach, but now it’s becoming a town where young people can start something.
Did you have any ties to Namhae?
My hometown is Hadong, so I lived in a town near Namhae. I used to cross the bridge to go fishing or to see the terraced rice paddies.
What do you think is Namhae’s appeal or potential?
I don’t think I’m in a position to say, but if I think of it in terms of my projects, it would be the ‘landscape.’ People feel at ease when they look at Namhae. Most of the scenery here is modest and small in scale. There isn’t much sense of distance, either. The islands are close. They aren’t far away like in the East Sea; it feels as if you could reach out and touch them. The mountains aren’t high. The fields don’t stretch out like a vast plain. It feels as though, with a little effort, you could catch them or climb them. That’s why it feels comfortable. One person put it this way: people usually travel when they’re happy, but Namhae is a place you can come to even when you want to cry.
What do you hope the Dolchanggo project will look like going forward?
For the first three years after I came down to Namhae, I was busy bringing in things from the city and spreading them around. Then I reached the conclusion that I no longer needed to do that. For Namhae Dolchanggo’s ten-year project, we chose three themes: 3 Namhae Protected Trees, 4 Sounds of Namhae, and 5 The Fisherman’s Table. The project runs through 2030, and we’re already in our second year. For the protected trees, the theme stays the same while the artists change. As for the sounds of Namhae, there are still about 800 we haven’t uncovered. The fisherman’s table is the same, of course. Think how many local dishes there must be. Our goal is to deepen all of these a little more each year.
2 “Jaesaeng Yeohaeng (Regeneration Journey),” Choi Seungyong, 3people. A book recording the journey of regeneration to Naoshima, Okayama, and Tottori in Japan that Choi Seungyong, the founder, took after purchasing the Namhae stone warehouse.
3 A project that archives 31 old trees in Namhae and rediscovers and reinterprets the cultural value of the protected trees.
4 A project that uncovers Namhae’s traditional folk songs and collaborates with musicians from Korea and abroad to create new sounds of Namhae.
5 A project that meets Namhae’s fishermen, records the local dishes of Namhae that are fading away, and seeks out the flavors of Namhae by drawing attention to disappearing fish resources.
Day 2, 7:00
Morning over the Dadohae
Nestled against the southern cliffs of Geumsan Mountain, Boriam Temple was founded by the monk Wonhyo during the Silla period. Together with Bomunsa on Ganghwado and Naksansa in Yangyang, it is counted among Korea’s three great seaside Avalokitesvara sanctuaries. Legend has it that Yi Seong-gye, the founder of Joseon, prayed here and realized his dream of establishing the dynasty, and the temple has long been known as a place where prayers are answered. It was around then that Bogwangsa on Bogwangsan Mountain became ‘Boriam of Geumsan.’
For travelers to Namhae, Boriam is a viewpoint you visit even if you have no wish to make. It’s about a 15-minute walk from the ticket office, so it’s not a taxing hike, and even that effort is more than repaid by the spectacular scenery that awaits. As you approach Boriam, tucked among rock faces that jut out from the greenery, the view unfolds before you: Sangju Silver Sand Beach curving into the land like a crescent moon, the rooftops surrounding it, the surrounding mountains, and the Dadohae, the archipelago sea, all blending together. The slopes of Geumsan and the islands of Namhae overlap so densely that you can’t tell where the mountain ends and the islands begin. As in a line from Lee Seongbok’s poem ‘Namhae Geumsan,’ the landscape ‘sinks into the blue seawater.’
Since you’ve come all the way to Boriam, it’s also worth walking another 200 meters up to Geumsan Sanjang (Geumsan Mountain Lodge). This hikers’ shelter, built in the 1950s, has recently become popular as a “cup ramyeon hot spot.” Sitting on a bench open on all sides, facing the view below your feet, any aversion to a “social media photo spot” melts away. And if the lodge’s friendly resident cat shows up, you won’t be able to resist taking a photo.
Boriam Temple: 665 Boriam-ro, Sangju-myeon, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do
10:00
The Light of Namhae
Not a “haebyeon” but a “beach.” Sangju Silver Sand Beach is the place’s official name. With a white-sand shore backed by a folding screen of tall pine trees and a bay gently cradled by that sand, the calm waves and lovely scenery have made it a hot spot for Namhae locals and visitors alike for many years. The old name, Sangju Beach, disappeared long ago, and although the campsites have recently been upgraded and it’s popular as an auto-camping ground, it still has less polish than the innocence of a scene in a faded photograph. Even the name still evokes the half-ripe romance of youth.
The name comes from the sand on the beach shining silver, but it’s actually the waves glittering in the sunlight that look closer to silver. The water isn’t deep, so it’s ideal for swimming. In seasons when it’s hard to get into the sea, you can stroll along the 2-kilometer stretch of sand or sit on a bench in the shade of the pines and gaze at the water. Turn your back to the beach and you’ll see Geumsan, which you climbed this morning, facing you. Within just a few hours, you find yourself standing in two different landscapes, Boriam and Sangju Silver Sand Beach, an odd experience. If you want to experience Namhae’s scenery in a more three-dimensional way, I recommend visiting both the sea and the mountain.
Sangju Silver Sand Beach: 17-4 Sangju-ro, Sangju-myeon, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do
12:00
Home-Style Bulgarian Cooking by the Southern Sea
Yuzhno More is a place where you can taste Bulgarian food, unfamiliar not only in Namhae but anywhere in Korea. A couple, originally from Busan and Seoul respectively, moved to Namhae and opened Yuzhno More last summer. Beside the rice paddies of Mulgeon-ri, overlooked by the German Village on the hill, stands Yuzhno More’s bright white building, which was once the husband’s grandmother’s house. The husband had known the house and the neighborhood since childhood and felt nothing special about them, but his wife fell for both at first sight.
Drawing on the skills of the wife, who spent her school years in Bulgaria, the menu offers dishes whose very names are unfamiliar, such as her homemade Bulgarian-style steak kebapche and shopska salata, a Bulgarian salad heaped with sirene cheese. Every one of them tastes better than you’d expect. Desserts such as banitsa, Bulgaria’s signature pastry, and baklava, a favorite across the Balkans, sell out if you hesitate for even a moment. Don’t miss the outdoor space either, where the building, which preserves the grandmother’s house’s front tiles and window frames, the stylish lounge chairs, and the view of golden rice paddies in front of them come together beautifully. Yuzhno More means “southern sea” in Bulgarian.
104 Dongbu-daero 1030beon-gil, Samdong-myeon, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do
15:00
The Flavors of Namhae
When you travel to Namhae, you hardly need to worry about what to bring home as a souvenir. That is thanks to Aenggang Market, a specialty shop and café devoted to local food. Step inside the neat wooden building, which recalls Kyoto, Japan, and you will find high-quality regional products neatly arranged: jukbangnyeom (traditional bamboo-stake fishing weir) anchovies bought directly from the weir fisheries, seaweeds such as miyeok (wakame) and dasima (kelp) harvested from the waters off Namhae, and rice grown in Namhae. There is a wide range of teas too, including barley tea made from barley grown in Aenggang Bay and yuja tea that captures the fragrance of Namhae citron. The products are sold in small quantities and in tidy packaging so travelers can buy them without hesitation, and once you start browsing, it is hard to leave empty-handed. The owner couple hope the space will properly introduce Namhae’s local food, so the drinks served at the café in one corner are kept as simple as possible, and the only side menu item is yanggaeng (sweet red bean jelly). A large window with a refreshing view of the inner courtyard and seating on real tatami mats make it a photo spot that gets everyone reaching for their phones.
772 Nanseo-daero, Nam-myeon, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do
What led you to start Aenggang Market?
Kim Gyunhwan (hereafter Kim) When we first moved to Namhae, we ran a pension and a café, and the guests who came didn’t know much about Namhae. There wasn’t much you could buy here as a gift, so they often asked us what to take home. That made us think, why don’t we sell something ourselves? We prepared for about a year or two while running the pension.
Having come here, I can see you put a lot of care into the space and the branding.
Lee Seonhye (hereafter Lee) We built on our own ideas, but we got a lot of help from professionals. A friend who does space design and a friend who does brand design came together, and we started it like a project.
How did you choose Namhae?
Kim I visited Namhae once in my early twenties, and I loved it so much that I came back many times. I traveled here alone, and after I met my wife, we came together every year.
What did you do before coming to Namhae?
Lee We both had office jobs in Seoul. Even after we married, we both kept working, and with two kids it was a little hard. We were feeling the kind of difficulties anyone living in a city might experience. My husband had talked a lot, even before we married, about moving to the countryside and running a shop. So even while working at our companies, we kept preparing. He went to cooking school, and we kept studying for the work we wanted to do. Then an opportunity came up, and we moved down here.
From the perspective of Namhae residents, wasn’t it perhaps a little puzzling to see outsiders arrive and do this kind of work?
Lee Even before we opened, the county office’s relevant officials made an effort to support us actively. When young people move into a quiet country village, the atmosphere itself changes. So the shopkeepers around us also looked on us kindly. Some even suggested we hold a market at the traditional five-day market. Actually, while preparing the pension, we paused construction for a while because of the interior work. During that time, we had a chance to study the region and get to know the residents. Helping with anchovy fishing, we learned things like, ‘So this is how jukbang anchovies are caught and produced. This is how they differ from ordinary anchovies, and that’s why they’re so expensive.’ We weren’t buying goods at a regular market and repackaging them for resale. We learned which fishery to go to and when the anchovies are best. I think that experience is why local residents didn’t find it strange when we said we would run a shop like this.
What do you find appealing about Namhae’s ingredients?
Lee Namhae has a mild climate, so farmers can grow two crops a year. In winter, the anchovy fisheries don’t operate, but people grow garlic, spinach and other crops instead, so farm and marine products are plentiful all year round.
Kim The soil is fertile, so on the forested slopes, berries such as wild raspberries and blueberries, and fruits like yuja, grow very well. The yields aren’t large, but they grow well.
I hear you are also preparing Namhae tea.
Kim We’ve begun turning some of it into products. We’ve been preparing for about a year and are already selling it. A few years ago, I started studying tea more seriously, and we even secured a field to grow it ourselves, and we’re preparing to build a factory. But we’re still the only ones growing tea in Namhae. We plan to farm tea in nearby Boseong as well, and to set up a separate factory there.
Lee My husband has been interested in the tea ceremony since his school days. We started with the thought, ‘If we’re going to do this, why not make it fun? Instead of the specialty products that are already developed and well known, let’s try something different in Namhae.’ We had been receiving tea grown under contract in Boseong, and earlier this year we established our own tea field in Seokgyo Village in Namhae. The plants recently flowered and have taken root well, so I think we can probably harvest from next year.
Many of your visitors come from outside the area, right?
Lee More than 80 percent of our customers are tourists from out of town. I think they come because they can see branded products of a quality that wouldn’t look out of place in a department store or online shop, rather than the kind of goods sold at a country market. Compared with the dried seafood sold at ordinary supermarkets, our prices are a little higher. But the quality is good, and we put more care into the packaging so the products make good gifts, so I think satisfaction is high. At first we only sold products in this space, but customers would buy things and leave, and they seemed disappointed. So we put together signature menu items, mainly tea drinks, that suit the place. When we added sweets like yanggaeng, they loved that too. And a lot of people come just to take photos.
What has been disappointing about running Aenggang Market?
Lee We’re working to grow Aenggang Market into a sustainable brand, and it upsets us when people treat our brand and shop only as something to copy. For a year or two, that made things hard, but now my thinking has changed a bit. When someone copies us, we tell ourselves, ‘Let’s go a little further.’
Kim That’s also why we ended up farming ourselves. We hold idea meetings every day and keep creating new products. I think that’s our only competitive edge.
How do you plan to develop this place further?
Lee It’s quite cramped now, but even if we open another space, I’d like to keep operating here and carry Aenggang Market on. Eventually, I’d like to build it into a brand that our children can take over.