The Wrong Bike, The Right Adventure: Solo Cycling From Sokcho To South Korea’s DMZ

I have always been scared to travel solo. In high school, I thought that when I became a fully grown adult, I would be travelling solo around the world, collecting experiences that I would remember for the rest of my life.

Yet when I graduated from university and had a life of seemingly endless choices looming ahead of me, travelling solo seemed daunting and somewhat boring. If I were to get a job with limited holidays, why would I want to spend those precious days off without loved ones?

So I put my dream of travelling solo off for almost a decade. Holidays were always accompanied by family and friends. When I did go to a country alone, it was for work or volunteering, where I would instantly become part of a community.

Slowly, the desire to travel solo seeped away. Yet things changed this year.

While working in South Korea over the past few months, I found myself wanting to have certain adventures and experiences, but the people I wanted to travel with were either tied up with work or not interested. I found myself not listening to what my heart truly wanted to do and choosing experiences that other people were interested in instead.

Yet when I wanted to cycle from Sokcho, a beautiful seaside city on South Korea’s east coast, towards the North Korean border and no one wanted to join me, I couldn’t not go.

I could feel my heart calling for the experience, and I was excited by the thought of doing something that felt tremendous to me: a big cycle, travelling through the picturesque eastern coastline, a place filled with soft sandy beaches, turquoise seas, and surfable waves, before finishing near the border.

I was definitely scared to do it solo. What if my bicycle broke down? What if I got lost? Or worse, what if I got lonely?

Yet on the day I was considering travelling to Sokcho, I woke up and decided to leave my house as soon as possible before I changed my mind.

Why I felt comfortable travelling solo in South Korea

For those who have never travelled alone and are scared to, I highly recommend South Korea.

Having worked here seasonally for the past few years, I have generally felt safe travelling around the country. Locals are often lovely and kind, and life is efficient and convenient. There’s usually a convenience store to be found along the way, stocked with snacks, instant meals, and everything you may need for your travels, such as toiletries and even underwear.

Transport in the country is well connected, reliable, and comfortable. You can walk into a hotel and book a room from a screen, much like ordering food at McDonald’s.

A spontaneous trip from Seoul to Sokcho

I left my house with no plans, with a hiking backpack filled with camping gear strapped on my back, jittery from the idea of travelling alone. I had barely done any research about Sokcho, and I wasn’t even sure if I could rent a bike in the city.

I travelled to Seoul Express Bus Terminal, a spacious, clean terminal with plenty of food outlets and a connection to a large shopping mall, and bought a bus ticket to Sokcho. I was in awe that the buses on the route ran every 30 minutes, and I barely waited 15 minutes before hopping onto the bus.

It felt serendipitous, making me feel like my solo trip was going to be full of luck — and it certainly felt that way on Day 1 of my trip. During the bus ride, a 15-minute rest stop offered a stunning view of a green valley. And as we arrived at Sokcho and got off the bus, we were greeted by a group of adorable preschoolers who were handing out songpyeon, half-moon-shaped rice cakes, to celebrate Chuseok, the Korean harvest festival.

With hope filling my chest, I left the bus in search of a bike rental. Unfortunately, as soon as I left the bus, I lost all mobile data on my phone and kept walking into stores to ask to use their Wi-Fi.

After walking for almost an hour, I found a bike rental shop, but the bike they were offering me was an unappealing, rusty mountain bike.

Feeling disheartened, I took a city bus to seemingly the only other bike shop I could find online, only to be greeted by a little barking dog with no shop owner in sight. After asking the shop’s neighbours whether they had seen the bike rental owner and having no luck, I sat down on the shopfront steps, unsure what to do and worrying that the day was getting dark.

Suddenly, a cheerful man cycled past me, opened the shop doors, greeted his barking dog, and started trimming the pooch’s eyelashes. The shop owner had arrived.

To my dismay, he only rented Dutch bikes. How was I going to cycle towards the North Korean border on a city touring bike, with no panniers and a backpack on my back?

I had no choice. At first, the shop owner seemed shocked that I wanted to cycle to the border. “This bike is for cities! No one has ever done this before,” he kept repeating. At this point, I thought my luck had run out. Yet suddenly, he changed his mind, and I had a bike for my trip.

After that, I decided to rent a hotel room, leave my heavy backpack and camping gear behind, and just cycle to the border and back in a day, covering 105 km.

105 km along South Korea’s east coast

The cycle was wonderful. Following a designated cycling lane along the coastline, I found myself saying out loud, “Wow, it’s beautiful here.” When I completed the cycle, I felt immensely proud that I had set out on an adventure alone and done it.

From my trip, I realised I loved travelling solo. I love doing whatever I want and not feeling the need to please anyone I’m travelling with. I can eat what I want and sleep when I want. I can read during meals and talk to as many or as few people as I choose.

It was liberating, and it gave me a deeper sense of self-love. I was a true friend to myself, a companion that I loved.

Since then, I have felt a new lightness in my step and a quiet confidence that stays with me. I have more dreams of solo trips, and a stronger sense of independence to live my life on my own terms.

All photos are by and courtesy of the writer, Sofia Shamsunahar, unless otherwise stated.