What a guided tour to Jeolla, South Korea's newest tourist hotspot, has to offer young travellers

It didn’t seem that long ago when I was the youngest person in every room, explaining what #latergram meant to my Gen X bosses the same way my Gen Z intern now educates us on the “millennial pause”. Having turned 31 this year, there are few settings that afford the same feeling of youthfulness – until I found myself at EU Holidays’ for a pre-trip briefing.

This October, my partner and I travelled with his parents – whose generation appears to be single handedly holding this industry together – to Jeolla, South Korea. We were the youngest in the room, although I caught myself mirroring the aunties’ and uncles’ reactions when they said persimmons would be in season during our visit.

Jeolla, the southernmost province in South Korea, had only recently opened its doors to international tourists. According to our tour guide, Singaporeans were the first to set foot there after the pandemic. This comes as no surprise, considering Jeju Island had long been done and dusted by those seeking a laid back alternative to Seoul.

It makes sense to explore Jeolla on a guided tour, not least because of the sweeping distances you would otherwise have to cover on a road trip. So extensive was our route that we watched both the autumn foliage and banchan (Korean side dishes) evolve as we headed northwards. The latter is particularly elaborate in Jeolla as the palace cooks used to live here. Fertile soil, flat land, and rivers have done wonders for its produce, and even the ubiquitous kimchi is distinct here.

Besides, I might have struggled to put an itinerary together independently. You see, the tourism industry in Jeolla is nascent and its presence on the web is delightfully scarce. Some of its attractions seem incapable of supporting mass visitorship, but in a way that gave our guided tour an uncharacteristic bespoke quality. Everywhere we went, the only other tourists were Korean ajoommas (or aunties) and students on school trips.

I appreciated that because after a redeye flight, an hour at the customs, and another four on the train from Incheon to Suncheon, I’d hate to be in someplace like Lotte World. Instead, we were ferried at sundown to Naganeupseong Folk Village, and it was just about the most idyllic time and place to be after all that travelling.

You’ll find the village in the only remaining walled town from the Joseon Dynasty, and it’s the sort of place filmmakers go to shoot period dramas. Just imagine the set of Jewel In The Palace, circa 2003, and you’re on the right track. In fact, a movie was being shot when we visited that evening.

The tourism board is eager to bill it as a well-preserved historical site, but the sun hasn’t entirely set on life in the village. That locals still live here, in what would otherwise be doomed to gentrification, keeps it real. At golden hour, a granny in her nineties could be seen hunching over her crops, unbothered by the film crew nearby or the Singaporean tour group walking along an exposed fortress wall. I suppose this is a day in the life for the residents of Kampong Lorong Buangkok back home.

The village’s charm is second only to Dawon Tea Plantation, which sits at the foot of Wolchusan Mountain in Gangjin. The tea plantation itself is no secret, and the first search result on Google is a Visit Korea page. But what the algorithms haven’t caught wind of is the elusive Lee Hang Young Tea Culture Centre.

The humble teahouse is helmed by the descendant of the late Yi Han-yeong, who in 1890 made Korea’s first ever green tea product on these very grounds. Today, his heiress continues to gather wild tea leaves from the surrounding mountains as he did over a century ago, telling visitors like ourselves of their origin story, artistry, and products.

I’d be the first to admit that I can’t tell low- and high-quality teas apart – the finer things in life are often lost on me. But you don’t need to be a connoisseur to appreciate local produce straight from its source – a practice that reminds us city folk of our long-forgotten connection with nature.

Tea is just a smidgen of what Jeolla has to offer and, later, we would find ourselves heading to an abalone farm on a boat. Forgive me for being vague about its whereabouts, but we had promised our tour guide to be tight-lipped about it. Apparently, the local authorities have talked the owners out of marketing their family business in a bid to protect it from over-commercialisation. Instead, they would bring them footfall in a sustainable way via exclusive agreements with tour operators.

It’s quite quaint really. The couple in their seventies run a cafe by the bay, which feels more like a living room with their vinyl records and autographed baseballs on display. Also stuck to the wall was a Singapore dollar, commemorating the first Singaporean guest they had welcomed not too long ago.

Once we were sufficiently caffeinated, twenty of us hopped onto the fishermen’s boat and doubled back in the cafe’s direction. To everyone’s amusement, his wife, who had hurriedly locked up the cafe, jumped off the ledge and joined us on said boat. Turns out she would be shucking and slicing and steaming our catch of the day in a bit.

It’s all very Indiana Jones, but that’s as much action as it gets. When you tell your friends you’re going to pick abalones in Korea, they picture you donning a wetsuit at the crack of dawn with the grannies of Jeju Island. I hate to burst your bubble, or not, but abalone-picking in Jeolla is exponentially tamer (and far less likely to induce hypothermia).

I am by no means implying that Jeolla is a complete snoozefest for the younger crowd, though. For one, Purple Island, an attraction with Barney the Dinosaur splashed all over it, had plastered the catchphrase of one BTS member – “I purple you” – everywhere.

Everything here is purple. It didn’t matter if it were natural, like a field of lavenders, or man-made, like the Cheonsa Bridge connecting Banwol and Bakji Islands. Vehicles were purple. The folks who live and work there wore purple. Even the hotteok (Korean sweet pancakes) from a food truck was purple. I’m hoping it’s because the ajoomma used sweet potato skins and not food colouring but, either way, it was delicious and ruined all hotteoks in Seoul for me.

As we explored Jeolla’s bucolic countryside, an intermission came in the form of the Arte Museum in Yeosu. The global exhibition brand was only conceived in 2020, but has since launched eight international outposts from Dubai to Las Vegas.

Now, every digital art exhibition out there claims to be immersive, but the Arte Museum means business. Imagine a labyrinth of galleries, not unlike the recent Van Gogh Exhibition at Sentosa, with each one staging a 360-degree exhibit with the sights, sounds, and scents of nature. Remarkably, this was art anyone could be a part of, whether you can spot Monet’s work from afar just want to climb larger-than-life structures like a child again.

Tourist destinations often pigeonhole themselves: Jeju is synonymous with island life, while Busan has solidified its image as a port city. While Jeolla has yet to settle on a distinct identity, it appears to cater to an older crowd. At one point, our tour guide asked my partner and me if we were bored out of our minds, admitting that younger individuals on this itinerary tend to come alive only when they arrive in Seoul for the final leg.

Alas, we started to miss Jeolla as soon as we set out for Seoul. Perhaps it was the traffic jam or the way restaurant chains we could find back home began sprouting on every street. Or maybe we are old souls who would rather be buying fruit at a wet market in Mokpo and strolling along the Metasequoia Road in Damyang. In the end, it's the unassuming stopovers – the ones that make you wonder how those businesses are still alive – that distinguish Jeolla from its more popular counterparts.

Did we fully utilise, maximise, and optimise every waking moment of our time abroad? Certainly not. But we felt revitalised in a way we haven't in capital cities, where the pressure to do, see, and consume more had left us more drained than when we started. Instead, thanks to the company and destination, we had the opportunity to live like retirees for a week. All I can say is I can’t wait to be one.