← PreviousMaking our way along southern JejuThe hotel isn't exactly in the first flush of youth, but at this price we can't complain too much. When we open the windows, a smell of fish tickles our nostrils, but we are in a fishing port, after all. After breakfast in the room, we don't linger in Seongsan. It may be nice when the weather's good, but the greyness casts a dark, dreary pall over the whole landscape, and we're not sorry to leave it behind.
Rain threatens but stays a threat. It must be raining inland, though, as we think we can see curtains of water in the distance towards Mount Halla. On the way, we stop at the beach despite the unfavourable weather. Clémence loves playing in the water whatever the weather, and a few clouds won't stop us making sand turtles and channels for the water. Stéphane has had several refusals for bike boxes, and it's just as we're setting off again that he gets good news.
One of the bike shops in Jeju City has several boxes available! That solves part of the logistical puzzle. We communicate in English via Instagram, which makes things much simpler. We're now riding along a more surfy part of the coast; we see lots of boards in the water, and the cafés play a lot of surf rock. So does the little burger restaurant where we stop for lunch. We eat very well for a modest sum.
The clouds darken as the day goes on and we decide not to push our luck. We ride on to a little kids' café, to Clémence's great delight. There are lots of fun little games and books in English. We open one at random to read to Clémence, and on one of the pages a surprise awaits. Hidden in a character's passport in the story are tickets for the Utopia cinema in Avignon. A sign from fate? The wink makes us smile.
We carry on to tonight's hotel near Hamdeok beach. The place is very popular with foreigners, and we discover where most of the island's tourists are. Suddenly we hear a lot of Chinese and Russian. After washing and changing, we go for a walk along the promenade. Once again the seafront is completely hostile to pedestrians. We struggle to understand how there can be so much room for cars and only a tiny strip for the constant flow of people on foot.
Clémence has fun at the beach playground for a long while before we go to eat at a little bibimbap chain restaurant.
Thursday 10 July
Today marks the end of our tour of Jeju, as we only have about twenty kilometres left to reach our starting point and close the loop. The weather is still very bad, so we laze about at the hotel after breakfast. Clémence is even allowed to watch a few cartoons.
As often on Jeju, the cycle route isn't very pleasant. Cassandre navigates and often takes us off the route to avoid the big roads on the official itinerary. Overall, we're disappointed with the island's infrastructure; it's not exactly what specialist websites promise. The last section is no exception at all and we take no pleasure in riding. The only fun moment is the playground stop, but we have to leave it to ride into Jeju City.
The city is very dense with traffic, maybe the worst city in Korea, as cars park literally anywhere. Two-way streets turn into single lanes with vehicles parked on both sides, making it impossible to pass. So we ride along streets where we have to wait for one driver to reverse and another to manoeuvre before we can get through. It's completely absurd, and it doesn't get any better in the city centre, where we arrive. It's even worse, as there's no space left for pedestrians. We drop the bikes and bags at the hotel to go to the city's big pedestrian street. The hotel we chose for our last night in Korea is so cheap that we had to talk to a staff member via a screen to check in. It gave us the odd feeling of a dystopian future, but maybe that's already our reality.
After two months in South Korea, we immediately spot foreigners. In the little place where we stop to eat, we're surrounded by Chinese customers, and those on our right are a bit rude to the waitress, something we'd never seen until now. This neighbourhood two kilometres from the airport is full of duty-free shops. Lots of Chinese tourists stroll here until late in the evening to shop, especially to stock up on Korean skincare.
We take the opportunity to go into a souvenir shop. Clémence comes out with a new hat (we lost her cap), pyjamas, a pen and a toothbrush. All in orange, the colour of the island's emblematic tangerines.
Clémence and Cassandre then go to a playground while Stéphane goes to the bike shop. There he meets the employee he'd been messaging yesterday. Phew, he does have boxes, and they're the right size. He agrees that we can come tomorrow morning at opening time to take our bikes apart on site, and, the icing on the cake, the owner offers to drive us to the airport himself in his big pick-up for 30,000 won (just under €20). Stéphane gladly accepts, as it takes away the stress of booking a taxi and not being sure everything will fit.
To celebrate, we take Clémence to a new kids' café in the area. It's always the same kind of crowd: women alone with one small child. We're getting used to it; these places are always well organised and you can spend two hours there without noticing the time passing, which we do. On the way out, we go to Daiso, a kind of upmarket pound shop, to buy tape and bubble wrap for packing the bikes.
We end the evening fairly early with a frugal meal at the convenience store at the foot of our very cheap hotel. We need to rest, as tomorrow is likely to be intense.
Friday 11 July
No need for the alarm this morning; we're woken by the noise around us. We have a slow breakfast in the room and set off to arrive at Halla Cycle bike shop at 10. The owner is already there with his pick-up. We weren't expecting any nasty surprises, but it's reassuring all the same. He has already prepared the boxes and helps Stéphane remove the pedals, handlebars and front wheel to fit each bike into its box.
Cassandre goes for a hot chocolate with Clémence and is surprised to find it's all done in under an hour. We think a bit more about what goes into the boxes and what doesn't, then seal them. It's only 11 am, our flight is at 2:50 pm, but Choi is ready to take us, so we get in the car.
Ten short minutes later, we're at the airport. We load our luggage onto trolleys and head for the Korean Air counters. In the end we're quite glad to arrive early, as checking in the luggage takes time. Our bigger bike is heavy and its box weighs 31 kilos, when we're only allowed 23.
With a staff member's help, we reopen the box we'd taped up firmly, take out the bags of dirty clothes we'd put inside and weigh it again: 24 kilos. Phew, the man says it'll do. The trailer-buggy also goes into the hold with the two boxes, and all that's left is to kill time. We look for nappies for Clémence; she's been dry during the day for a few days, but we still need some for the night. Jeju airport is surprisingly big and crowded, but that makes sense: the Jeju–Seoul route is the busiest in the world, with 13 million passengers a year.
We get through security without a hitch and eat in an ordinary terminal restaurant, though at a very modest price for an airport. Our flight is on time, we board first because we have a young child, and after exactly forty minutes in the air, here we are in Busan. Combining ferry and bus, the journey would probably have taken us a day and a half. We only have a two-hour connection in Busan, but the airport is so well designed that we're already waiting at the gate after thirty minutes.
We get notifications telling us where our bags are, which is very reassuring. They're duly loaded onto the new plane, which we also board first, the privilege of travelling with a toddler. Again the flight only lasts forty minutes, and here we are in Japan! We've barely reached the baggage carousel when our boxes and the buggy are already waiting for us. This efficiency is a lifesaver, as we still have to put the bikes back together to get to the hotel.
We load everything onto trolleys, find a quiet corner outside and reassemble the bikes as quickly as we can. Well, the Kona's pedals are on the wrong sides and the front disc rubs, but it'll do for the two kilometres to the hotel. It takes us barely forty minutes in all, but we have to leave quickly. Night has fallen and our lights aren't charged. This glaring mistake forces us to ride on the pavement and take a thousand precautions.
The surprises aren't over, as there's no reception at the hotel. We call a number, and a man with shaky English struggles to find our booking and give us the code to get in. Once that's done, we still have to check in on a tablet, giving a lot of information. It was simpler in South Korea, and there are Koreans right behind us who don't understand the system any better. Anyway, we're finally in Japan, and the second part of the trip can begin!
On the road