I bolted up from a dead sleep and knew I’d overslept. My heart pounded as I tried to figure out if I could still make it to the restaurant.
I’d wanted to grab a power nap (classic mistake!) before meeting the tour group for our special Yeongdeok crab feast. We’d had a big biking day: 105 kilometres and 1,400 metres of climbing over Ihwa Pass and back down again. Have you ever biked 105 kilometres for crab? And then slept through the dinner?
I ran downstairs and looked pleadingly at the front desk clerk, miming what I hoped translated to “I’m late! Do you know where the group went?” He responded with a satisfyingly alarmed look, miming: “Why are you still here? You’re missing the crab!”
He motioned for me to follow him, and in under two minutes we were in his black sedan flying down the road, past the enormous crab sculpture on the bridge, to the restaurant.
You may not have heard of Yeongdeok or its crab. Neither had I. It’s one of the many delights I discovered on a 650-kilometre bike crossing of South Korea. Being able to explore the country and its rich history and points of interest – well-known and not – at the speed of a bike was an exciting prospect, both for the chance to see places I might fly by in a car, and to work up an appetite that could accommodate Korea’s vast culinary offerings.
On our first morning, we biked out of Seoul, a bustling city of nine million, through huge and beautiful Yeouido Park, bypassing rush hour traffic via a network of connected bike paths along the Hangang River, the sweet scent of white fringe trees in the air and seed pods popping under our wheels. I felt the jet lag leaving my body as I pedalled, and my bike felt jaunty thanks to Korean Airlines’s careful handling.
The plan was to cycle southeast from Seoul along bike paths and rural roads to the busy seaport of Busan. The group would continue to Japan for a month’s cycling, and I’d head home. Chatting with my fellow riders on the tour, which was organized by TDA Global Cycling, I learned that most had joined the trip for the Japan section.
Hallyu, a.k.a., the Korean Wave, has put South Korea on the culture map in recent years – think K-Pop superstars BTS, big and small screen hits like Parasite and Squid Game, and the K-Beauty craze – but the country is still off many travellers’ radar. That’s changing, and for good reason. Especially if you like to travel on two wheels.
In most places as a cyclist, you’re constantly reminded that you’re a guest in a world made for cars. But cycling along the Hangang River Path, I had a different feeling: I felt welcome. The path is part of the 580-kilometre Four Rivers Bicycle Path, which criss-crosses the country. The path was created in the late aughts as part of then-President Lee Myung-bak’s controversial Four Rivers Restoration Project. Imagine the privilege to be able to cross a country on bike lanes.
Our first stop was Yeoju, a city whose culinary claim to fame is its rice, which was served to monarchs during the Joseon dynasty that ruled from 1392 to 1910. I’d be lying if I said my tastebuds noted the subtle earthiness that our guide described, but then, I’d been training for cycling, not rice-tasting. We continued along the Namhan River to Suanbo, home to 30,000-year-old hot springs and many large plastic pheasant statues – representing the city’s culinary specialty. After a long postride soak in the hotel hot spring, we ate pheasant eight ways, including raw.
From Suanbo we took inland country roads, hitting steep 14 per cent climbs and long switchback descents that had me worried I’d burn out my knees on the climbs and my brake pads on the descents. Every so often I’d remind myself to breathe, and the smell of pine, black locust, and lily of the valley would flood in. I’d unlock my eyes from the road ahead and see farmers working rice paddies and greenhouses, racing magpies overhead, ancient Buddhist temples and rivers rushing through gorges.
The great thing about bike travel is that you can see the major sights, and you can see the small and quirky everyday stuff, too: seniors exercising at calisthenics machines, traditional hanok houses with their tiled roofs made from burned soil, and their rows of onggi, the pots used to ferment kimchi, and the many cute cafés that popped up seemingly out of nowhere.
My favourite stop was Gyeongju, a historic city that’s home to 23 enormous and haunting tumuli, the burial mounds that hide the tombs of monarchs from the Silla dynasty. Walk a few minutes and you’re launched from the fifth century to the present, the nearby streets crammed with self-photo studios, playful caricature shops, and stands selling sweet mozzarella pancakes on a stick.
At nearby Bulguksa Temple, we walked under hundreds of colourful lanterns strung up in honour of Buddha Day and drank from a fountain that our volunteer guide assured us would take years off our lives. Cycling has a way of making your mind and heart feel young but your body feel old, so I happily bought into the hype.
With every cycling day, I felt more welcome. From the restaurant owner in Andong’s Galbi Alley who showed us proper beef barbecue technique to the woman who stopped us one morning with an excited clap to tell us that this was her first day on a bike, to my Yeongdeok crab captain – I felt invited to stay and discover.
As our group pedalled together, we shared uphill curses, downhill exhilaration, and reflections that extended into postride beers and meals. In a world where I often feel like I’m going both too fast and not fast enough, I had the reassuring feeling that we were going exactly the right speed. By the time we neared the finish line, after some tough climbs in the Busan Alps, we all agreed that we’d discovered something unexpected and special.
Forget music, movies and makeup – the next Korean Wave phase should be K-biking.
If you go
For cycling, the best times to visit are May to mid-June and September to November. Toronto’s TDA Global Cycling runs a seven-day itinerary as part of their Journey to the East expedition (tdaglobalcycling.com). Seoul-based Teamax Adventures offers several itineraries too (teamaxadventure.com). Google maps doesn’t work in South Korea so download the Naver app for navigation.
Korean Air has direct business and coach service from Toronto to Seoul Incheon Airport six days a week, with Korean favourites like bibimbap and bulgogi on the inflight menu, and excellent bike handling (koreanair.com).
Refuelling: In Seoul, try pyeonsu dumplings or kimchi jjigae, a spicy stew. In Yeoju, try Yeoju rice for its earthy flavour. Suanbo’s specialty is pheasant, which you can try barbecued, in stew, in dumplings and raw. You can’t visit Yeongdeok without feasting on king and snow crab. In Andong, go to Andong Jjimdak Alley for the delicious braised chicken dish or hit up Galbi Alley for beef barbecue. In Gyeongju, head to Daereungwon for ssambap – leaf wraps and rice. In Busan, sample the best of Korean street food in Changseong-dong Food Alley, or steep in seafood at Jagalchi Fish Market.
Special to The Globe and Mail
The author was a guest of TDA Global Cycling and Korean Air, which did not review or approve the article.