We didn’t expect much from Route 7-1.
It was a spur trail — not one of the main Olle stars — and we thought of it as a filler day between tougher hikes. But as always, Jeju surprised us. What we got instead was a calm, coastal loop full of soft skies, salt-laced winds, and a sense that time had hit pause.
The trail begins and ends in Seogwipo-si, looping gently along the shoreline and circling back inland. It’s one of the few Olle routes that forms a complete loop, which gave the walk a feeling of completion — like a chapter that writes its own ending.
Almost right away, we were walking along Jeju’s southern coast, with low cliffs, pebbled beaches, and waves lapping gently against black volcanic rock. No crowds. Just a handful of fishermen, and one or two hikers heading in the opposite direction with quiet nods of acknowledgment.
We passed through Jungmun’s smaller outskirts, where traditional houses and quiet farms sat not far from the water’s edge. There was something intimate about this trail — less performance, more presence. It felt like we’d stepped behind the island’s curtain and into its everyday rhythm.
One of the peaceful highlights was the little chapel tucked near the shore, humble and white against the deep blue sea. We stood there for a while — not because it was famous, but because it was beautiful in the way quiet places always are. A moment to breathe, reflect, and keep walking.
The trail also meandered through small forests, offering pockets of shade and birdsong, before looping us back toward Seogwipo. The trees here weren’t dramatic or towering — just soft, swaying, and full of life. It reminded us that not every trail has to be grand to be memorable.
By the time we closed the loop, we felt… lighter. Not from achievement, but from ease. Route 7-1 was like a gentle conversation with the island — one that didn’t ask us to hurry, prove anything, or even say much at all.