DAY 12
(Reading time: 7 minutes)
Once upon a time, 50 kilometers from Mokpo, there were three purple islands—Banwol, Bakji, and Anjwamyeon.
They were connected by purple bridges.
Everything on these islands was purple, even the trash bins and recycling containers.
Purple paths led through villages with purple rooftops, and the bus stops were purple.
Purple cars drove around the islands.
Restaurants served purple-themed menus.
Any visitor wearing purple could briefly become part of this whimsical purple world for free.
The idea of visiting the unassuming and untouristy Mokpo was essentially an excuse—a strategic starting point for a trip to the Purple Islands. Or rather, let’s be honest: the thought of visiting these islands was swirling in my head ever since we decided on a second trip to South Korea. While Jeju Island topped our to-do list, our mainland itinerary revolved around the necessity of seeing the Purple Islands.
Mokpo is surrounded by 1,004 islands, including the purple ones. Some are connected by bridges; others are accessible only by boat. The Purple Islands were theoretically reachable by both means, so we thought it prudent to consult with our host for the best transfer options. What an idea that was…
Our host, a proactive man in his mid-40s, clearly delighted by my Korean skills, spread out a map and began intricately explaining which buses and taxis (plural!) we needed to take and how to instruct the drivers. At this point, my comprehension failed, and we resorted to a translator app. I’ve already mentioned how much we dislike those, right? They’re inaccurate and fail to capture language nuances—like Korean’s lack of pronouns in this case. According to the translation, the bus driver was supposed to get off at our stop instead of us, and on the return trip, some official would take a taxi while we… guarded his office?
I tried innocently: what about going by boat? The port was just 200 meters away, and the map showed a line leading close to one of the purple islands (red line) …silence… then our host, evidently amused by my naive question, graciously ignored it and returned to his intricate instructions involving buses and taxis (blue line).
To this day, we don’t know why the idea of reaching the Purple Islands by boat was problematic, but we chose to graciously ignore his overly complicated instructions and simply ordered an Uber.
Our driver arrived: a young guy around 30, masked and initially distant. But once he discovered I spoke Korean, he took off his mask, smiled, and started chatting. Ah, the magic of spoken language! Take that, translator apps! He even voluntarily stopped along the way at an intersection renowned for its photogenic graffiti flower heads of some granny and grandpa, so we wouldn’t miss an essential addition to our Instagram collection.
He dropped us off right near a souvenir shop—the symbolic gateway to the purple kingdom—and for the time being, we shelved any thoughts about the return trip (we already knew from the Uber app that while someone could drive us there, getting back would be another story).
There weren’t many people around—just a few couples, all in their own cars. Soon, however, a busload of cheerful elderly tourists arrived, each adorned with at least one piece of purple clothing and, naturally, an umbrella because the sun was shining. Mark and I quickly headed for the bridge to the next island to put some distance between us and snap a few photos without crowds.
But beyond the bridge, a group of four elderly women caught up to us, handed me their phones, and began directing me on how to photograph them properly. Well, they got a double attraction out of it—purple islands and white foreigners. After that, they piled into purple tourist carts and zoomed off, sparing themselves the effort of walking to all the purple photo spots.
There was no shortage of picturesque corners, artistically designed for the perfect Instagram memory. Koreans excel at this. So, we wandered through kitschy, overly staged spots whose connection to the Purple Islands was questionable at best, and outright indefensible in the case of the Little Prince!
To complete the experience, all that was missing were purple cows—alas, wrong continent.
On the other hand, one must admire the locals’ efforts to create an attraction in a poor, remote area. Most residents are older-generation farmers, and it’s likely the Purple Islands will eventually transform entirely into a museum village with employees earning their living through tourism.
In 2015, the Korean government approved The Purple Project—a tourism development plan based on painting everything purple and creating a charming, photogenic landscape to attract visitors. The shade of purple was inspired by the bellflower (Campanula), which grows abundantly on these islands, and purple is simply popular—think lavender fields in France, jacarandas in Portugal, or even lilacs blooming in our parks. What beauty!
The brilliant idea led to international success, with visitor numbers steadily increasing.
However, beneath its charming appearance lies a dark past, hidden from everyday tourists who skim only the surface of its visual appeal.
The Purple Islands are part of Sinan County, infamous for higher crime rates and, more disturbingly, modern-day slavery, revealed to the public in 2014. In this impoverished (if not the poorest) region of the country, work is hard and poorly paid. Local salt farm owners, unable to find enough labor, resorted to “assistance” from traffickers. These traffickers used deceptive job offers and abductions, targeting primarily individuals with mental disabilities, and transported them by boat to the islands. Once “employed,” they worked without pay, unable to escape, and were reportedly subjected to beatings and other physical and psychological abuse for poor performance or misbehavior. Investigations exposed many such cases, supposedly ending these illegal practices, but the islands are isolated, difficult to monitor, and often accessible only by boat. Can we truly be sure slavery has been eradicated from all of them?
Those familiar with recent history might feel that the residents of the Purple Islands are trying to paint over their past—literally.
We wanted to experience this unique corner of South Korea in the present, despite knowing its history. We didn’t ask the locals—some things simply aren’t discussed. However, it’s worth viewing travel as an opportunity to gain new experiences and knowledge in all their forms, pleasant and unpleasant. The world isn’t entirely purple.
After a few hours, it was time to say goodbye. Refreshed by stylish iced drinks (also purple-themed), we set off, following the map on our phone to a spot promising a bus stop.
We faced at least 5 kilometers of walking through the hilly local countryside, passing villages, chili pepper fields, and cabbage patches. No transportation departed directly from the Purple Islands; we hoped to find something later. We were over 50 kilometers away from Mokpo via the car route.
Can you imagine the stir we caused? Two white foreigners with backpacks walking along the roadside… on foot… in direct sunlight… without umbrellas! Were they lost? Did they need help? Naturally, it wouldn’t occur to a Korean that we were walking voluntarily, enjoying the countryside—who does that?! Cars passed us at noticeably slow speeds, their curious and/or slightly concerned faces hidden behind dark windows. Things always work out on the road in the end; they have to. We’d find our way back somehow…
-endy-
DONKEY´S SPECIAL:
-mj-