After the long, peaceful stretch of Trail 4, we weren’t quite ready for what Route 5 had in store. It was a course that pulled us inland and up, away from the coast’s salt-kissed breeze and into Jeju’s rural soul. With a mix of forest, hill trails, and traditional villages, Jeju Olle Trail 5 felt like a gentle culture shock—a reminder that this island holds more than beaches and blue waves. It holds memory. It holds silence. And it holds some serious elevation, too.
We began the day in Pyoseon-ri, not far from the quiet sands of Pyoseon Beach, where Trail 4 had left us the previous afternoon. The shift in atmosphere was immediate. While previous trails flirted with the coastline, Route 5 turned inland with purpose. The sea disappeared behind us, replaced by low hills, farm plots, and old stone walls stitched across the land like scars from a slower time.
The trail wound its way through traditional Jeju villages, some so still and quiet that our footsteps echoed. In Dongbaekdongsan Wetland, an ecological treasure near Seongeup-ri, we paused to listen—really listen—to the rustling reeds, the croak of frogs, and the invisible wings of birds flitting overhead. The wetlands are protected, and for good reason. They’re alive with subtle, important magic. It felt like walking through Jeju’s lungs.
We passed Seongeup Folk Village, one of the most famous cultural heritage sites on the island. With its preserved thatched houses, volcanic stone walls, and open courtyards, it felt like time had slowed down. We didn’t rush through. We wandered. We read the signs. We tried to imagine the lives once lived in those homes—the stories whispered through basalt walls and smoke drifting from open kitchen fires.
The trail led us higher as the day warmed up. The terrain gradually became more challenging, but never overwhelming. It was the kind of climb that made your calves burn gently but rewarded you with wide-open views of Hallasan watching in the distance, its silhouette a silent guardian of the island. As we gained elevation, the air thinned and cooled. Trees gave way to open ridgelines, and Jeju spread out beneath us like a painted scroll.
By the time we reached Namwon, where Trail 5 ends, the sun was beginning to lower behind the hills, casting long golden shadows across the land. Namwon Port, quiet and picturesque, greeted us with the sound of small waves and the scent of the sea returning once again. After hours inland, the coastline felt familiar, like an old friend waiting at the finish line.
Trail 5 surprised us. It wasn’t the most dramatic. It didn’t have crashing waves or cliffside thrills. But it had something deeper—a quiet beauty, a cultural heartbeat, and a strong sense of place. It showed us a Jeju we hadn’t met yet—the Jeju that lives between fields and forests, in the rhythm of farm life, in the cracks of stone fences that have held strong for generations.
We ended the day with tired legs and full hearts, already wondering what Trail 6 would bring. But we carried something else too—a deeper respect for the land beneath our feet and the people who’ve called it home long before us.
So if you’re looking for a trail that’s not just about scenery but about stepping into history, walking with intention, and letting Jeju show you her roots, then Trail 5 might be the one for you.
Next stop: more stories, more steps, and more of Jeju’s unexpected beauty—waiting somewhere just ahead.