When I first arrived in Jeju more than a decade ago, I knew almost nothing about the island.
All I had was the excitement of starting anew, the anticipation of change, and the simple necessity of adapting to this new life. I was too busy and unfamiliar with everything to truly take in my surroundings.
Now that I’ve settled in after so many years, I find myself regularly walking the Olle trails and hiking up Oreums.
But back when I lived a life surrounded by gray buildings, desperately climbing the corporate ladder, and inhaling exhaust fumes of congested traffic outside my window, I thought that was just how daily life was supposed to be.
Samchon (Samchon is a warm and familiar term used in Jeju to refer to older adults.)
A few months after moving to Jeju, I got to know a Samchon.
At first, we were just acquaintances — I was simply just another customer at his restaurant.
But as time passed, we grew closer, forming a relationship which we naturally started to share what little we each had to offer.
One day, he asked, "Do you want to check out an Oreum?"
He began explaining what Oreums were and suggested we visit one together.
"Hahaha, so Jeju calls these small mountains ‘Oreums’?"
It was a word that sounded familiar because it was in Korean, yet it wasn’t a term I was used to.
That made it feel both endearing and intriguing at the same time.
The first Oreum I visited with Samchon was none other than Ttarabi Oreum.
It is located in the Pyoseon area, which has the highest concentration of Oreums in Jeju. Each Oreum on the island has its own unique shape and story. Among them, Ttarabi Oreum is known as “The Queen of Oreums.”
Why is it called the Queen? You’ll understand the moment you reach the top.
Looking down from the summit, the surrounding Oreums seem to bow gracefully toward Ttarabi Oreum, as if paying their respects to a Queen. Even its name evokes a familial feeling.
Nearby, you’ll find Moji Oreum, Jangja Oreum, and Saekki Oreum — like a family gathered together.
Isn’t that fascinating? Nature itself has formed a family, creating a massive natural palace.
Walking Through Waves of Silver Grass
The path leading to Ttarabi Oreum is surrounded by vast fields of Silver Grass (Eulalia).
When the wind blows, the grass sways like ocean waves, parting gently to reveal the way forward. It was early morning, not even 8 AM yet. The soft sunlight spread across the landscape, leaving behind traces of dawn. The air was crisp and fresh, and the breeze felt invigorating.
"Ah... this is amazing."
I couldn’t help but say it out loud.
The incline of the Oreum wasn’t too steep. After parking, you ascend from the left, circle around the crater at the top, and descend along the right side. About halfway up, I turned around — and there they were. A breathtaking view of Jeju’s many Oreums, stretching endlessly across the horizon.
Then, suddenly — I heard a rustling sound.
And in an instant, a deer leaped into view. It was my first time seeing a Jeju Roe Deer, and I was amazed at how high it could jump. A magical moment, unique to Jeju.
As you approach Ttarabi Oreum, you’ll notice many wind turbines in the distance. From afar, they resemble whimsical pinwheels, spinning beautifully against the sky. But as you get closer, the loud woong-woong hum of the turbines fills the air. The rotating propellers feel massive and almost intimidating.
Looking down from the oreum, you’ll also see large solar panel fields stretching across the land. Once, this area was a peaceful grazing ground for cows, a natural buffet where they roamed freely and fed on lush grass. Now, it has been entirely transformed into a solar energy site.
Under the name of renewable energy, wind farms and solar panels are rapidly increasing in number. But seeing parts of nature being destroyed in the process left me with mixed emotions.
The Highlight of Ttarabi Oreum: Three Craters
From the top, you can see three distinct craters, making this Oreum particularly rare and captivating.
Here and there, you’ll also notice stone cairns carefully stacked. These were built by local residents over time, each stone placed with a wish for protection and good fortune. They are known as “Bangsatap”, serving as a symbol of warding off bad luck.
At the summit, the wind is incredibly powerful. On particularly windy days, the gusts are so strong that they can push you backward. Whenever I feel stressed or need to clear my head, I come here, sit for about 20 minutes, and let the wind wake me up. It works wonders.
And then, during the golden hour, as the sun begins to set, the golden-hued silver grass sways gently, whispering a soft sasa-sak sound. That sound — it’s like the moment your heart drops on a roller coaster, a sudden rush of emotion so overwhelming that you feel as if you might cry. Can you imagine it?
From the summit, you can see many stunning Oreums in the east: Jwabomi, Baekyagi, Jangja, Donggeomi and more. Each Oreum has its own name, its own story. With 368 Oreums in Jeju, even if you climbed one every day, it would take over a year to see them all.
My first Oreum left an unforgettable impact on me. And because that first one was Ttarabi Oreum, the experience felt even more profound. In the 10+ years since, I’ve probably climbed it at least 50 times. That first encounter was so powerful, so joyful, that even now, I never find my life outside the city dull or exhausting.
Nature and memories like these — they’re what keep me going.