029 · Hallim Park — A Village That Time Refused to Forget
Some places preserve beauty. Others preserve the lives that once created it.
The stone grandfather, horses, and old village buildings — a gathering of Jeju’s memories.
Opening — Returning After Twenty Years
More than twenty years had passed since my last visit to Hallim Park.
I remembered it as a beautiful garden on the western coast of Jeju Island, not far from the turquoise waters of Hyeopjae and Geumneung beaches.
What I had forgotten was how close these places were to one another.
And what I could never have imagined was how much the park itself would have changed.
The trees had grown taller. The palms had reached toward the sky. What once seemed like a remarkable garden had matured into an extraordinary landscape.
But during this visit, something beyond the trees captured my attention.
It was a small traditional village, quietly standing among the greenery.
A village that seemed determined not to let the past disappear.
Beyond the stone walls, the memories of old Jeju remain.
01 — A Dream Planted in Sand
Hallim Park began with a remarkable vision.
In 1971, its founder, Song Bong-gyu, began transforming a vast stretch of barren sandy land into a green landscape. He believed that Jeju’s natural beauty could become a source of pride and opportunity for future generations.
In the early 1970s, he planted palm seeds in land that many people considered unsuitable for such an ambitious project.
There were difficulties, skepticism, and years of hard work.
Yet the seeds grew.
Over time, the sandy fields became gardens, the gardens became a park, and the park became one of Jeju’s best-known destinations.
Song Bong-gyu passed away in December 2023.
Walking through Hallim Park today, I found myself thinking about the distance between imagining something and actually building it.
I have dreams of my own.
But here was a man who had turned a seemingly impossible dream into something that generations of people could experience.
The towering trees were not merely trees.
They were the living evidence of his determination.
Some people leave monuments of stone. Others leave forests.
02 — A Village Saved from Disappearing
An unexpected visitor stands before a traditional Jeju home.
Within Hallim Park is Jaeam Folk Village, a collection of traditional Jeju houses and objects that preserve the island’s rural past.
These are not simply modern buildings designed to look old.
Traditional thatched houses from Jeju’s inland villages were relocated and restored to preserve architectural forms that were gradually disappearing.
That discovery changed the way I looked at the village.
I was not walking through an imitation of history.
I was looking at a deliberate effort to save it.
Everyday objects become witnesses to a way of life.
03 — The Architecture of Everyday Survival
Low roofs, sturdy walls, and a sheltered space shaped by Jeju’s environment.
Jeju’s traditional homes were shaped by the island’s natural conditions.
Volcanic stone was abundant. Strong winds were part of everyday life. Roofs, walls, courtyards, and entrances reflected generations of practical knowledge.
The beauty of these buildings does not come from grandeur.
It comes from necessity.
A wall was built to provide shelter.
A roof was designed to withstand the weather.
A courtyard became a place for work, family, and daily routines.
What we now admire as traditional architecture was once simply the art of living.
Jeju’s dark stone walls still define the character of the old village.
04 — The Things That Ordinary People Left Behind
Stone, clay, and memory share the same afternoon light.
A traditional village is more than its buildings.
Its story also survives in the objects people used.
Large earthenware jars, stone vessels, grinding tools, and household implements remind us that history was not made only by kings, scholars, or famous leaders.
It was also made by people who cooked meals, stored food, cultivated fields, raised children, and endured difficult seasons.
Their names may not appear in history books.
Yet their lives formed the foundation of the culture we inherit today.
Even the quietest corner seems to hold a story.
05 — Jeju’s Stone Guardians
A familiar symbol of Jeju stands among the village’s sculptures.
One of the most recognizable figures in Jeju is the dol hareubang, the island’s traditional stone grandfather.
With his rounded eyes, distinctive nose, hat, and hands resting on his body, he has become a symbol of Jeju’s cultural identity.
Standing among the village buildings, stone figures seem to connect the island’s legends with its everyday life.
Nearby, sculptures of horses evoke another important part of Jeju’s heritage.
Horses recall the island’s long relationship with animals, work, and the landscape.
These sculptures are reminders that Jeju’s cultural heritage includes more than buildings and landscapes.
It also includes the creatures, beliefs, and customs that shaped life on the island.
Nature adds an unexpected moment of color to the old village.
06 — When Nature Becomes Part of the Story
Two peacocks pause above a traditional roof, as though the village belongs to them.
Then came a delightful surprise.
Peacocks wandered through the village.
One stood in front of a thatched house. Another rested on a stone structure. Two perched together on a roof.
Their brilliant blue and green feathers contrasted with the muted colors of volcanic stone and dried thatch.
It was an unexpected meeting of nature and heritage.
And perhaps that is part of Hallim Park’s charm.
The place is not frozen in time.
Trees continue to grow. Birds move freely. Sunlight changes the appearance of the walls throughout the day.
The village preserves the past while remaining part of a living landscape.
An old roof becomes a stage for a beautiful visitor.
07 — The Quiet Beauty of an Ordinary Afternoon
An ordinary afternoon in a place where different generations of Jeju meet.
The afternoon sunlight stretched across the courtyard.
Long shadows fell over the stone pavement.
The houses seemed peaceful beneath the trees, and the earthenware jars stood silently beside the walls.
There was nothing spectacular happening.
No festival. No performance. No dramatic event.
And yet I found myself wanting to stay a little longer.
Perhaps the most meaningful heritage is not always found in extraordinary monuments.
Sometimes it survives in the simplest things — a doorway, a roof, a stone wall, or the place where a family once gathered.
Closing — What We Choose to Preserve
More than twenty years after my first visit, Hallim Park gave me something I had not expected.
I came to admire the trees that had grown so tall.
I left thinking about the people who had made their growth possible — and about those who had chosen to protect the memories of old Jeju.
The founder planted seeds for a future he might never fully see.
Others preserved houses that might otherwise have disappeared.
Both acts required imagination.
Both required patience.
And both were expressions of faith in the value of what comes after us.
Perhaps that is what true preservation means.
Not merely keeping something old.
But recognizing that the lives of those who came before us still have something to teach the generations yet to come.
A garden can grow from a seed. A cultural legacy begins when someone decides that the past is worth saving.
Korea through Gupiter Lee’s lens.
Photo Essay — Gupiter’s World
Jeju Island · Hallim Park · Jaeam Folk Village
