Slow Living

Go with your heart for the Soul, Jeju (Day 2)

Rise and shine for day two of the trip. After a good night’s rest, I woke up feeling refreshed and ready for the itinerary planned for today.

With daylight filling the space, I finally had the chance to take a closer look at the house; noticing details I missed the evening before. In the quiet morning light, the place felt different, more familiar, as if it was slowly welcoming me in.

Just outside the door sat a rainbow bench, quietly waiting in the morning light. A small, cheerful surprise for us when we stepped out of the house.

I found 전복마시문어마시; a small eatery just a stone’s throw away from the house. At first, I couldn’t locate it as the address listed was inaccurate. Instead of rushing or giving up, I relied on old map-reading skills learned back in the army, piecing together landmarks until the place finally appeared.

It turned out to be a family-run seafood eatery, quiet and unassuming. Butter-grilled octopus & abalone, abalone porridge, these are their specialties. Simple, honest food made with care.

Starting the morning this way felt grounding and invigorating, a reminder that sometimes getting a little lost leads you exactly where you need to be.

Before leaving the eatery, after a satisfying meal, we took a short one-minute walk outside to soak in the beautiful view and breathe in the fresh air. It was a small pause, but enough to lift the mood and slow the pace even further.

Before moving on, I updated the address of the eatery, 489 Hwanhaejangseong-ro, Seongsan-eup, Seogwipo-si, Jeju-do, South Korea, on Google Maps; for those who rely on it for planning, as most locals here use Naver Map or Kakao Map instead. A small act of sharing, so others might find this place a little more easily than I did.

“Sometimes, slow living shows up not just in how we move, but in how we help the next person along the way.”

We moved on to our first planned destination, the Jeju Aqua Museum, South Korea, Jeju-do, Seogwipo-si, 특별자치도, Seongsan-eup, Seoseongil-ro, 689-21 KR, and were greeted by the joyful sounds of children playing at the playground just outside laughter that instantly lightened the mood.

Admission tickets were required, and inside was a wide array of exhibits, many of which I had never been exposed to before.

While the captions were only in Korean, it didn’t take away from the experience. Instead, it became part of the fun, my family and I took turns translating with our mobile phones, learning together as we moved from one exhibit to the next.

It reminded me that sometimes, understanding doesn’t have to be perfect to be meaningful. What matters is sharing the moment, side by side.

After a morning of science, I felt the urge to awaken a different part of the senses. We shifted gears and wandered into Van Gogh’s Garden, 132 Samdalsinpung-ro, Seongsan-eup, 특별자치도, Seogwipo-si, Jeju-do, South Korea, without expectations, without a plan, simply open to whatever awaited us.

It began in a garden, open and inviting, with quiet corners and thoughtful details that naturally drew us into taking photos, pausing, smiling, capturing small moments without rushing on.

From there, we stepped into an AR trick-eye display, where reality gently bent and imagination took over. Colours shifted, scenes came alive, and perspectives played tricks on the eye. It was light-hearted, playful, and unexpectedly engaging & fun for all of us, regardless of age.

We weren’t there to understand everything. We were there to be surprised and that, in itself, was enough.

As with our usual routine after a full day of activities, we slipped into a café break. This time, we stumbled upon a place called EOS, 3361-32 번영로 Pyoseon-myeon, Seogwipo-si, Jeju-do, South Korea, and it felt as if we had wandered straight into a fairy tale.

Mushroom-shaped huts dotted the grounds, instantly making me feel like I had stepped into the land of the <Smurfs>. What I didn’t expect was that this whimsical café is actually a bed-and-breakfast. As we parked the car, we were warmly greeted by the friendly owner: a small gesture that made the place feel even more welcoming.

The croffle with ice cream is a must-order. Simple, comforting, and quietly indulgent.

As we sat there, time slowed to a gentle pace. I couldn’t help but envy the couple who live here, immersed in a life that feels calm, intentional, and beautifully unhurried.

Moments like this make slow living feel not like a concept, but a choice, one cup at a time.

Right after the tea break, we set out to scout for a place to have dinner. Our first choice was Pyoseon Udon Shop, which we spotted earlier and were keen to try. However, upon arriving, the eatery was packed, and parking along the narrow streets proved almost impossible.

We tried circling the area, hoping for a spot to open up, but with no luck. Eventually, we found a multi-storey car park nearby, the area felt more city-like than the rest of the day. We even considered taking a stroll back to the eatery, but the walk turned out to be longer than expected, and the freezing weather made the decision for us.

So we settled on a small and cosy Chinese eatery, 중식당진, 71 Pyoseonjungang-ro, Pyoseon-myeon, 특별자치도 Seogwipo-si, Jeju-do, South Korea, right opposite where we had parked the car. It turned out to be a great choice for us.

The place used a self-ordering system, simple and efficient, which made the process quick and fuss-free, no waiting, no rush. We placed our orders and soon, comforting dishes began to arrive: spicy seafood jjamppong, rich, warming, and full of flavour; jjajangmyeon, familiar and deeply satisfying; and crispy tangsuyuk, golden and indulgent. Each dish felt especially comforting in the cold weather.

What more could we ask for? My family and I are big fans of Korean-Chinese food, and this unexpected dinner stop turned into a quietly satisfying end to the day.

“Sometimes, the unplanned choices are the ones that stay with you.”

After a satisfying meal, we headed back to our little hut, making a short pit stop at the nearby convenience store along the way.

A small stop, a quiet ride, and then back to where the day began: simple, familiar, and comforting. The kind of ending that feels just right.