Dear Family and Friends,

If you were so inclined, you too, could obtain a pragmatic masters degree is in Tourism Development from Cheju National University - whose Romanized spelling should be “Jeju.” But their slogan “Next Eruption, Your Mind” is unrivaled. According to their website, CNU “provides both theory and practice of tourism planning and development in order to systematically promote the tourism industry, the national strategic field in the 21th century” and seems to equip students with a combination of economics, urban planning, psychology, and marketing with such classes such as “Tourism Psychology,” “Tourism Products & Goods Development,” “Destination Marketing,” and “Physical Planning in Tourism & Recreation Development.” The students in this field obviously have (a) stuck close to their alma mater, (b) always kept their top audience in mind, and (c) excelled – and the results of their study and life’s work can be observed in Jeju’s nicely planned, plethora of activities for honeymooners and non-love struck tourists alike. To seal their success, the eyes of the world briefly alit on Jeju’s well-planned beauties in 2000, when the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) group dropped by. And of course, to this day, a myriad of tourist entertainments continue to be enjoyed.

There was little doubt in my mind, while I was touring Jeju in 2007, that the A+ students of CNU’s Physical Planning & Recreation Development were key in the development of the Teddy Bear Museum, the myriad of posh hotels, the lush golf course, the Hooters Shopping mall (interestingly, sans a Hooters but included a Cinnabon), and the Yeomiji Botanical Garden. And I must say that the Yeomiji Botanical Garden is the perfect honeymoon destination, as there is nothing better to do on a honeymoon than walk hand in hand through lush gardens, stopping every once in a while to take carefully positioned pictures of a beautiful new bride, her hair blowing in the sea breeze. Happily, although as previously mentioned, we three single girls were not honeymooning, we were still able to partake in the photographic moments and the gardens.

We actually first glimpsed the Yeomiji greenhouse through the trees from the main road, an intriguing glass dome filled with people. Intriguing, yes. But not interesting enough to inspire us to stop near the glass dome until we were post-teddy bears and ready to shift from tickling our funny bones to feeding our eyes. We parked in a row of 10 white cars (cars in Korea can be purchased in any color you like – well, so long as you like white, black or if truly, truly bold, silver) while our eyes barely roving over the unusual greenhouse. Admission paid, we decided to save the greenhouse for last and instead investigated the largest arboretum in Asia, with its slumbering landscaped gardens ala Japan, Italy, France, and Korea. The individual gardens themselves were large, reportedly containing some 1700 semi-tropical plants and despite its winter coma, the park was lovely. We walked, snapping frames that caught our eye and unsympathetically reading garden signs whose translations had widely miss their mark. Sadly, in retrospect, I didn’t record any examples – but the signs were bad enough that we sought them out especially to read them aloud – emphasizing the puzzling or just plain wrong English. When our walk around the greenhouse was complete, we crossed through sliding glass doors into a humid world of 2,000 or so plants. And we did a cursory inspection while we waited for an elevator to take us to the top of the 124.64 foot observation tower.

The view was marvelous, really. The sea was made blinding by the descending sun on one side while Mt. Halla-san, brown with power poles marching along it like a stitched up scar dominated the other side. We raced around from window to window, clicking our cameras, and calling to each other. I’d say we enjoyed the view but it was the thought of buying a snack – Peanut Buttered Roast Squid – that made us giddy. We eventually descended from on high and rushed through the other parts of the greenhouse and departed. On our way out, we cocked our heads at a tourist train that was supposed to be running between the greenhouse and gardens – but despite some children clambering around it, that train wasn’t going anywhere.

It took some tramping through hedges to figure out that the bridge that we next sought was not a part of the garden but we had glimpsed enough to be intrigued so we dug out pocket change and our feet followed our eyes to an enormous red bridge decorated with frolicking cherubs and angels, playing instruments in golden sunlight. On one side the top of the bridge’s arch afforded a pleasant view of the Cheonjeyeon Waterfall, that would be worth writing home about if there had been more water falling from it, and on the other side were rows of palm trees leading to a blinding sea. We made the most of the views and also stopped at a decorative fountain dubbed the “Fountain of Five Blessings.” Per a sign’s instructions, each of us selected a symbolic blessed animal and tossed coins into the money bag in the center of the fountain. Julie selected the tortoise for longevity, Emily, the duck for love, while I tossed coins over the dragon’s head seeking honor. Admittedly, our aim wasn’t great and we couldn’t decide on just one blessing so we kind-a, sort-of shot coins in front of several of the blessed animals. But what the hey? Admission to a waterfall park: 2,500 Korean Won. Closing your eyes and wishing upon your future? Priceless.

It had grown too late in the day to fulfill my destination choice – a hike – so we decided to return to a museum that had earlier caught our interest.

Not that we knew it right then, but those afore-mentioned tourism planners of Jeju knew their audience: honeymooners with little vacation time and a strong interest the usual honeymoon activities of sex + tourism. And they planned well. On Jeju, two can tour the Jeju Art Park and enjoy its theme of “the meeting of nature, art & people” (or mostly, meeting people & people). But even better than that tame art crap is the Jeju Love Land (reputed to be the only outdoor sculpture park in Korea with the theme of sex), the World Eros Museum (which apparently educates re: sex cultures in different environments), and the Museum of Sex and Health. On the way to the Art Park, we had discovered the Museum of Sex and Health, and we were all very curious.

Because of the Korean emphasis on health and “well-being” and despite the foreshadowing Love Grove and teddy weeny, the Museum of Sex and Health still managed to take us by surprise. We were rendered spluttering before we even left the parking area by various statues, in positions that would not really permit healthy breathing. We determinedly kept our jaws clamped shut as we stopped at the admissions desk and started through the museum.

The viewing started on a reasonable note: an all-Korean language timeline of lovers decorated with pictures of romantic scenes from movies followed by educational anatomical pictures of a man and a woman. “Ok, this is what I expected.” I assessed to myself just before placing my face in wall cutout in order to voyeuristically view several statues cheerily in the midst of the act. Despite the parking lot statues, these statues inspired raised eyebrows on my part, a reaction that was reflected back at me from the mirror behind the statues – and I would later find out - could also be viewed by visitors who could view see my face from a secret full-length picture window on the other side of the wall. I doubled over with embarrassment and laughter when we discovered this. Anyway, the next gallery sensibly reminded us to make use of our senses: sight, smell, and my personal favorite, sound. The importance of sound was emphasized both in a strange demonstration involving a wire and a cutout woman that generated loud moans as well as telephone booths where one could pick up the phone and listen to what had to be Korean dirty talk. The next gallery contained uhm, practical but explicit instruction regarding positions and… uh tools… and the final, largest galleries were an astonishing array of what could definitely be classified as sexual art. The Museum was topped off with a fantastic 2^nd floor coffee shop with faux diamonds for banister heads and comfortably furnished for those with week knees with comfortably stuffed chairs and a myriad of sex books. The atmosphere of the coffee shop was surprisingly comfortable – and the green tea milkshakes weren’t bad either.

Plainly speaking, the Museum of Sex and Health was amazing. But not the best viewing activity for any single woman with few love prospects in her near future. All three of us were shaken and dazed upon re-emerging into the darkened real world.

On the return to our hotel, we stopped at the Jeju World Cup Stadium. Back in 2002, South Korea and Japan did something remarkable for two countries with a shared history of vicious wars: they teamed up to host the first FIFA World Cup (soccer) tournament held outside of “West.” South Korea and Japan each provided 10 stadia (the majority of which were built for the event); the opening ceremony paraded through the newly built Seoul Stadium while the final game was played at the International Stadium Yokohama, Japan. I cannot speak for Japan’s regard for soccer, but Korea is soccer mad. I’ve heard that during World Cup championships, Koreans spend weeks only wearing their red team shirts – and that the day after Korea lost to Turkey in the Daegu World Cup Stadium, soccer madness disappeared almost as if it had never been. Apparently, this pattern repeated itself last year when Korea’s soccer team failed to advance into the elimination rounds.

Anyway, I am not necessarily keen on World Cup soccer – but I fell in love with the Jeju World Cup Stadium at first sight. We first passed it on the tour bus, a stadium practically in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by pavement, an E-mart and then farms. I’ve since read that this stadium’s design was meant to “harmonize Jeju island's natural environment and its sea surroundings” – and it was bloody successful. Its profile is eye-catching: with a flaring roof crowned by Poison-crown spires, that upon closer inspection, are actually shaped like ship masts with crow’s nests. Its main entrance is closely guarded by a procession of Jeju’s famous statues, the Dolhareubang (stone grandfathers), whose presence is believed to repel evil. Adjectives escape me – I liked the stadium and we stopped in the dark to peer through the stadium’s gates and watch a father and sons were kicking a ball under the watchful eye of the Dolhareubang.

We failed in our wish to diversify our dinner consumption to beef bulgogi and fell into bed early, our heads still spinning from the day’s activities.

Next eruption, your mind? Hardly. But my compliments to the tourist developers of Jeju.

Sweet dreams one and all. --Laura

Another pretty darn Korean sentiment.