After the coastal breeze and beach camping of Routes 16 and 17, we didn’t expect much from the inland trails. We thought they’d be “fillers” between the big scenic routes — a break from drama, a bridge from one coastline to the next.
We were wrong.
Routes 18 and 19 weren’t flashy. But they were the warmest, greenest, and most grounding trails we’d walked. Together, they felt like a soft-spoken love letter from the inner island — a story told in stone walls, quiet hills, and paths only locals seem to know.
The trail kicked off in Hallim-eup, where Route 17 had left us. There were no sea views this time — just quiet backroads, horses grazing in fields, and the subtle rise and fall of Jeju’s interior landscape.
We entered the Yongnuni Oreum region, and though we didn’t climb the oreum itself this time, it stood in the distance like a gentle giant watching us pass. The trail snaked through patches of Gotjawal Forest, offering cool shade and a soft, earthy scent that followed us like perfume.
What stood out most about Route 18 were the lava fields and basalt stone walls — endless fences built from ancient volcanic rock, some stacked so neatly it felt like art. It was humbling to think how many hands had touched those stones over generations.
Villages along the trail felt half-asleep, the kind of places where roosters roam free and tangerine crates double as chairs. We passed a small local shrine, nestled under trees with faded cloths tied to branches — wishes, maybe. We didn’t need to understand them to feel the hope.
By late afternoon, we reached the end of Route 18 and rolled right into the start of Route 19 — our legs aching, our hearts curious.
If Route 18 was green and grounded, Route 19 felt historical. We walked along paths that felt older than the map, passing traditional thatched-roof homes and farms still worked by hand. It was like stepping into a slower version of time.
We stopped at Yongyeon Valley, a peaceful break spot with gentle water and dragon-shaped stones said to bring luck. It was a good place to rest, eat snacks, and let our feet breathe.
The trail also passed Dongbaekdongsan, a protected Gotjawal forest area rich in biodiversity and silence. It felt like entering a secret — and the deeper we walked, the more the outside world faded. Birds called. Trees creaked. Our voices dropped to whispers without meaning to.
But Route 19 wasn’t just nature. Toward the end, we passed Jeju Stone Park, a massive cultural and natural space filled with sculptures, myth, and memory. We didn’t enter the museum this time — our feet had their limits — but just walking past the outer grounds gave us a sense of Jeju’s deeper stories. Volcanoes, gods, stones with names and faces.
The final stretch of the trail led us through more quiet roads until we reached Jocheon-eup, sleepy and soft in the golden light. We didn’t speak much — just shared glances that said, Yeah, that was something.