My wife, Yeon Hee, and I taxied from our downtown Busan hotel to Busan Ferry Terminal at dawn under expanding sunny skies that heralded a promising trip to Tsushima Island nestled between Korea’s biggest port city and Japan’s main island of Honshu. We met our tour guide, Ms. Lee Hee Sook, at 7:10 a.m. sharp and dropped off our passports. As a permanent resident of Korea, I didn’t need a visa. The fast-speed Panstar Tsushima Link ferry departed promptly at 8:40 a.m. Because it’s high-speed, you can’t stay on the boat’s open-air top deck: “too dangerous,” our boat attendant said. Because it was a group tour, most things were prepaid.

Though the seas were gentle, not 30 minutes into the ride my wife exclaimed, “I feel like throwing up!” Such a sensitive soul, indeed. I pointed out the women’s restroom. Moments later, she was back; more moments later, it was time for another run to the latrine. Upon returning, she said, “I think there was something wrong with the potato sandwich.” Hmm … I was unwell myself with a terrible cold and cough, so this was an inauspicious start to the “promising trip.” Then she raced back for a third time. In what used to be a four-hour ride, we landed in little more than an hour.

As we disembarked lugging our baggage, I stumbled down the ramp as if staggering on Dream Street after getting slugged by Mike Tyson. When we got to Hitakatsu Port International Terminal, I was apprehensive while passing through immigration. The vicious cold and cough I was battling along with a slight fever could be worsened. Luckily, there were no quarantine cameras.

First stop: money exchange. Just north of 150 yen to one U.S. dollar. The dollar was especially strong in late October 2025. (The international APEC Summit was going on that week in Gyeongju.) Though barely 11 a.m., it was time for lunch. Japanese restaurant lunches, like all restaurant meals here, tend to be lean and mean. No wonder obesity isn’t a problem here! All 17 members of our tour chowed down on a simple, rather stark, meal of thick noodles in seaweed soup, sliced liver, kimbap, more rice side dishes, and an almost-tiny slice of persimmon for dessert. Drink: plain water.

We hopped back on our tour bus and began an introductory tour to Mt. Eboshi at the southernmost point of the northern half of the island, which is divided by two canals to facilitate commerce by ship. Tsushima is mountainous and thickly wooded, with tall, muscular cedar trees. You’d think you were driving through a small sequoia forest in northern California. It was mid-day and when gazing into the forest, but it looked almost dark. Sunlight struggled to light up the ground. Though I had been here before many years ago to swim and camp, this trip felt as new as the first. Half of our ride was through long tunnels burrowed into the landscape. Tsushima’s characteristic topography is its steep, mountainous terrain. Dotting the roadsides are eulalia-like grass plants similar to what is seen in Korea, especially in October.

Our bus wound its way up a convoluted mountain road to 60 meters shy of the summit. We hiked the 60 meters up the stairs to the observatory for the most panoramic view in the entire island. To the northeast on a clear day are the mountains of Busan.

Once back on the bus, we rode and stopped to walk over the bridge crossing Manzeki Strait dug out in 1900 by the Japanese Imperial Navy as an expedited navigation route. The bridge arches over the strait at a height of a 15-story building and offers a great photo opportunity of the village and waters below.

Before we got to our hotel, our bus stopped, and we had to endure a ridiculous several- hundred-meter walk hauling our luggage container with its damaged roller, transforming a would-be stroll into a most unpleasant trek. We surmised buses wouldn’t be able to navigate the narrow stone road. I cursed our bad luck. After several tortuous minutes, we arrived at the Tsutaya Hotel in downtown Izuhara. After checking in and dropping off our luggage, it was time for our tour guide to lead everyone along the riverwalk bisecting the downtown district. Unlike bustling Korea, Japanese towns and small-city downtown districts tend to be deserted even in the middle of the day, except for an occasional stray cat. We walked to Kaneishi Castle ruins, a spacious scenic historic spot situated in a well-manicured garden dating back to the 16th century. It’s a great place to relax.

Next up was a short stopover at a Shinto temple, which are plentiful throughout the country. They are usually somber and dour-looking, this one no exception. We soon were on our own for the rest of the evening. Time for dinner, though not included in the tour package.

I’m not particularly fond of Japanese cuisine, which I consider too bland, so the Better Half and I ate Western fast food at an MOS Burger and later walked back to the hotel. It would be a tough night ahead. I hit the sack by 8—and hacked and coughed till after 11. I swallowed a few cough tablets purchased back in Busan before catching a few hours of snooze before the 7 a.m. alarm screamed, and woke up more dead than alive. Downstairs, breakfast beckoned. Breakfast would be totally Japanese and without coffee (pronounced “co-hee” in Japan), only water. Hmm. Well, I did say it was a package tour, didn’t I? Actually, there was nothing to complain about; overall, accommodations were quite nice.

Back upstairs we grabbed our already-packed bags, went downstairs and dragged our luggage to the bus (again several hundred meters away), stopping at a convenience store to get that prized coffee, which tasted as bitter as you can imagine. And the weather wasn’t that good, either, with overcast skies.

Back on the bus, we climbed up and over a mountain road showcasing the most spectacular forest scenes imaginable. Finally, we arrived at a signless local nature park/arboretum near a river gorge now swollen from recent rains. We crossed a roughly 70-meter suspension bridge towering over the raging waters and then began a leisurely stroll along the riverside. Soon, we were back riding down the mountains to the ocean on the same road we had come from and heading for “The Ruins of Ofunae,” designated a historical site by Nagasaki Prefecture. The harbor was called “The Bay for the ships; it was built in 1663, one of the symbols of the Tsushima Clan” during the so-called isolationist period. (At the harbor ruins, I made an international call to the kennel housing our doggie Janggoon (“Little General” in Korean.)

Next up was Komodahama Shrine, memorializing those who died in battle against an invading Mongolian force named Genkoh in 1274. Every November 12th, a commemorative service is held here to honor their sacrifice “to the nation,” according to a signboard.

Soon, it was lunchtime in the southeast part of the island in the same district we had eaten dinner the night before (Tsushima is only 82 kilometers long). Our waitress spoke Japanese, Korean — and excellent English with me. Note: English is not as widely spoken here as on the Korean peninsula. The meal was a typical bento-style lunchbox menu: several small pieces of meat, some vegetables, dried pickles and seaweed and ever-present rice.

Now, everybody walked to the home of late 19th-century novelist and Korean translator Nakarai Tosui, who died in 1926. Except for a large signboard at the entrance, everything was in Japanese, so perhaps you can skip this site unless you know Japanese or are with a translator.

Then it was a harrowing, winding and narrow ride up the mountainside to the top of Kamizaka Park, elevation 358 meters, to the observatory overlooking the entire island. It’s a great spot for taking in all the scenic splendor, a visual highlight for one’s tour here, overlooking what some describe as Asowan Bay and the purportedly fictional Oboredani Valley. Skies had now cleared for decent photos.

After all the day’s trekking, it was time to relax at the local hot springs: Yuttari Land. Though not as elaborate as other hot springs in Japan, given how Tsushima is small and slimly inhabited with a declining population of 28,500, it’s adequate: showers, three small pools, and one medium-sized outdoor pool, at least on the men’s side. Sexes are segregated, yet this reminded me of the time I went on a Misawa AB tour in 2010 while on temporary assignment. Our Japanese tour guide had reassured some prudish Americans that the hot springs we were visiting was strictly segregated. Once inside and with everyone completely naked in the pool, we couldn’t see six inches beyond our noses, the mist that thick. The mist evaporated. I found myself standing face-to-face not a foot away from a USAF captain’s wife I had been talking to on our trip over. Later, I found out Aomori Prefecture, home to Misawa AB, was the only place left in-country where everybody bathed naked together.

Our driver headed out on Rt. 48 for what felt like eternity. The weather couldn’t quite make up its mind: sunshine, rain, sunshine, rain… Mountain roads here can be even more treacherous when only a little slippery. Finally, we came to our designated restaurant for supper: a veritable smorgasbord of food items, too many to elaborate here. Japanese food, like Korean, tends to be salty. I yearned for a cold beer, but alcohol and cough medicines don’t mix. Ice-cold water had to suffice.

Then it was back to the bus and off to Daemado Hotel in Hitakatsu. Come nightfall it was a complete ghost town, even though it was Halloween, with not a trick or treater in sight. We partook of the holiday by watching a Halloween show on TV.

After a less-than-restful snooze, it was up and at ‘em at 7:30 a.m. for the usual local hotel-style breakfast: no eggs, bread, or even milk for coffee. Yet it was nice dining and looking out the window at the ocean. (Clearly the island doesn’t cater to Western tourists. Other than Yours Truly, I didn’t see a single Westerner. Most tourists appear to hail from Korea; as such, establishments obviously cater to the majority of foreign cultural preferences. Store signs in Korean are common.) Dining hours were from 7 a.m. to 8:30 a.m. Japanese are known for being among the most punctual people in the world. At 8:31 a.m., the place was all but deserted.

Though my inner physical condition was still lousy, once outside it looked like a promising final day on Tsushima; skies were sunny. Back on the bus, we rode to a forested area on Rt. 39, where we walked alongside a bubbling brook cascading over rock beds and graced by towering cedar trees on either side. Sunlight barely peeked through, casting dour shadows on the forest floor amidst the cawing of crows overhead.

Next up was a duty-free shop to buy and savor some exquisite chocolate, a mistake that killed off any appetite. Then we drove over to “Korea View,” the northernmost point of the island and only 49.5K from Korea. There’s an enclosed observatory on top (it can be very windy), and you can see the Korean coastline in the distance on a clear day. A coffee stand is nearby as well as the ubiquitous vending machines. (In Japan, outdoor vending machines are everywhere.)

On the ride down, it appeared we’d collide with another oncoming tourist bus. And then another. Even the major highways here, presumably double lanes, are more like one-and-a-half. Driving is dangerous everywhere. Large vehicles habitually park to the side for others oncoming. It turned out to be a short ride to a public beach. Though it was now November and the water chilly, three intrepid souls dared the temps and waded all the way in. I wanted to join; my condition said otherwise.

Lying on the soft sand and looking into the sky suddenly made me realize how sick I still was. That said, I was so grateful to be here and experience the moment.

We returned to the bus and our hotel to say good-bye to our driver and later our tour guide before retrieving our luggage. Sightseeing activities were over. My Better Half made a beeline for the nearest drugstore for anti-motion sickness medicine before we embarked on the ferry back to Busan.

She’s truly a traveling partner always one step ahead of it all.

Associate Professor Ron Roman taught with the University of Maryland Global Campus (UMGC- Asia) since 1996. He retired from full-time employ and later as adjunct during the COVID-19 crisis (2020). He continues to write and has acted in numerous Korean TV dramas and motion pictures like Operation Chromite portraying Admiral Forrest Sherman opposite Liam Neeson as General Douglas MacArthur. His alternate-history apocalyptic doomsday thriller Of Ashes and Dust was a November 2022 release by Histria Books. It was a 2023 Finalist for the Chanticleer International Book Award (CIBA) Global Thrillers category. A Poetic Rhapsody of the Soul, a poetry book, was released in July 2026 by Windtree Press. Cf. www.writerronroman.com.

Sasebo Naval Base

Fleet Chinhae