Two days down the Seomjin River, from Gurye's temples to Hadong's tea slopes

When the train announces Gurye-gu, half the carriage stands up. Step onto the platform and the first thing you see is the river, wide and shallow and the colour of weak tea. Gurye itself is nowhere in sight. That gap between the station's name and the town is a fair introduction to the Seomjin River (섬진강, Seomjingang). In this valley two provinces face each other across the water, and the best stops are usually a bus ride from where you are standing.

Arriving at a station named for somewhere else

Gurye-gu Station (구례구역, Guryegu-yeok) is on the Jeolla Line, but it stands on the Suncheon side of the river. The last syllable, gu, means mouth or entrance, and the town is a short taxi or county-bus ride north across the bridge. Taxis gather in the forecourt when a train comes in and leave with whoever reaches them first, so passengers with light bags tend to get the first ones.

Gurye is low and flat, laid out on the plain below Jirisan (지리산), and it makes a quiet base for the first night. Near the bus terminal, the Gurye Five-Day Market (구례오일장, Gurye Oiljang) fills a covered lot on a fixed cycle of dates. On market days you'll find dried bracken, wild greens bundled in newspaper, jars of mountain honey and grandmothers selling one kind of thing each. Gurye County publishes the cycle, so check it before you plan a day around the market.

Hwaeomsa and the hall left unpainted

Hwaeomsa (화엄사) sits on the western slope of Jirisan, and county buses run from the Gurye terminal to the car park below the gate. The approach climbs gently beside a stream. Most Korean temple halls are painted in dancheong, bands of green, red and ochre under the eaves. Gakhwangjeon (각황전) is not. Its timber has weathered to silver-grey, and it has two tiers of roof on the outside but one tall, open room inside. It is among the largest wooden Buddhist halls in the country. Inside, you notice sounds more than sights: floorboards, the hinge of a side door, chanting from a smaller hall across the courtyard.

An old plum tree beside the hall flowers so dark a red that people call it heungmae (흑매), the black plum. In late March, photographers line the stone steps for it from early light. Climb the stairs behind the main courtyard to the Four-Lion Three-Story Pagoda (사사자 삼층석탑), where four carved lions hold up the stone body. Facing it, a kneeling figure carries a stone lantern on its head. Leave your shoes at the edge of any hall you enter and use the side doors, not the central one. Temple admission rules have changed in recent years, so check the notice at the gate.

Saseongam, a hermitage pinned to a cliff

South of town, above the river, is a small mountain called Osan (오산). On it sits Saseongam (사성암), a hermitage whose main hall juts out from the rock face on tall pillars. The name means hermitage of the four sages, after monks said to have meditated there. Private cars are generally kept off the last stretch of road. Instead, a shuttle minibus runs from a car park at the foot of the mountain, and you pay at a booth. It tends to leave when it is full rather than to a strict timetable, and service can stop in heavy weather, so ask at the booth before you commit to the walk.

From the terrace, the Seomjin makes a wide bend through the rice fields, and Gurye's roofs line up along the plain below. Near the steps, visitors buy roof tiles, write their names and wishes on them in marker and leave them stacked for future building work. The terrace is narrow. People take their photo and step aside without being asked.

Hwagae, where the river divides two provinces

On day two, take the county bus downstream. The road follows the Jeolla bank of the river and then crosses Namdo Bridge (남도대교, Namdo Daegyo) into Gyeongsang. Hwagae Market (화개장터, Hwagae Jangteo) sits where Hwagae Stream meets the Seomjin, and most Korean visitors know it from an old pop song. The stalls sell chestnuts, dried herbs, loose tea in paper bags and farm knives hanging in rows. Keep some cash ready. Small stalls here do not all take cards.

섬진강은 전라도와 경상도 사이를 흐른다.

The local dish is jaecheop-guk (재첩국), a soup of tiny river clams. The broth is pale, almost milky, with chopped buchu (부추), a garlic chive, scattered on top, and it comes with rice and a few side dishes. Restaurants along the riverbank also make jaecheop-hoemuchim (재첩회무침), the same clams tossed with vegetables in a sharp, spicy dressing. The two together make the kind of lunch that sends Korean visitors home with a frozen bag of clams.

Up the tea valley to Ssanggyesa

The road from the market up to Ssanggyesa (쌍계사) is called Simni Beotkkot-gil (십리벚꽃길). Ri is an old unit of distance, and ten of them add up to a few kilometres. In early April the cherry trees close over the road like a tunnel, and weekend traffic slows to walking pace. On those days the bus or your own feet are the better choice. The slopes on either side are planted with tea. These aren't the neat green terraces of postcards but scattered rows between boulders and chestnut trees, some picked by hand by families who have worked them for generations.

Close to the temple, a stone marks the Cha Sibaeji (차시배지), traditionally said to be the place where tea was first planted in Korea. Small tea houses along the valley seat you on the floor and pour green tea from a small pot, round after round. Hadong tea is sold by picking time: ujeon (우전) is the first young leaves, followed by sejak (세작) and jungjak (중작). Prices climb with each grade, so ask before you order. In the temple courtyard, look for the old stone stele whose inscription is credited to the Silla scholar Choe Chiwon. The carving has worn soft at the edges.

Pyeongsari and the two pines of Agyang

Further downstream toward Hadong town, the valley opens into the Agyang (악양) plain. It is broad and flat with rice paddies, and two pine trees stand together in the middle. People call them Bubusong (부부송), the married-couple pines. Seen from the road they look placed there on purpose, and in October, when the rice turns gold around them, the whole plain becomes the picture.

On the hillside above Pyeongsari (평사리) village stands Choe Champan-daek (최참판댁), a hanok compound built as the setting for Park Kyung-ni's long novel Toji (토지). Dramas have filmed here, and Korean readers come to stand in the rooms the novel describes. From the veranda of the men's quarters you look straight down onto the paddies and the two pines. Check the entry fee and hours with Hadong County before you go.

Getting there, when to go, and the one mistake

From Seoul, Jeolla Line trains toward Yeosu stop at Gurye-gu, but not every service does, so check Korail's site for which ones. Intercity buses from Seoul's Nambu Terminal (남부터미널) run to Gurye and to Hadong. To leave from the other end, Hadong's terminal has buses to Busan's Seobu Terminal. Within the valley, county buses link Gurye, Hwaeomsa, Hwagae, Ssanggyesa and Hadong. They run thinly and stop early in the evening, so photograph the timetable board at the terminal on your first day. Ride-hailing apps are patchy out here. Get a local taxi number from your guesthouse.

Late March brings the black plum and the yellow sansuyu (산수유) trees around Gurye. Early April is cherry season along the Hwagae road. Late April into May is when the first tea is picked, and October is harvest gold on the Agyang plain. Weekends in blossom season clog the single river road, so go on a weekday if you can. The one mistake to avoid is assuming a taxi will be waiting at the temple or the hermitage to take you back. It usually is not. Arrange your return before you go up, or time your descent to catch the bus.