The first crunch of autumn leaves beneath my boots echoed like a whispered secret as I stepped onto Namsan Dulle-gil—Seoul’s serene circular path hugging the shoulders of Namsan Mountain. For foreigners seeking a pause from the city’s electric buzz, this trail isn’t just a walk; it’s a dialogue between nature’s rhythms and the human heart. Here, skyscrapers fade into emerald shadows, and the mountain gently untangles your thoughts, one season at a time.
Spring’s Whispering Awakening
In April, the dulle-gil (a Korean term for “circular trail”) softens into pastels. Cherry blossoms flutter like confetti, carpeting the path in pink. It’s a season of delicate metaphors: buds unfurling beside Seoul’s ancient fortress walls remind you how resilience blooms even in stone. Watching foreign tourists gasp at a hidden grove of forsythia, I realized nature needs no translation. Their cameras clicked, capturing not just flowers but the universal joy of rebirth—a silent pact between strangers that spring, like hope, belongs to everyone.
Summer’s Green Embrace
By July, humidity wraps the trail in a lush, dripping green. Cicadas scream symphonies from maple canopies, while dragonflies dart over trickling streams. The forest feels like a living lung, exhaling oxygen thick with earth’s perfume. Halfway up, a wooden bench overlooks the Han River snaking through the metropolis. Here, contradictions dance: the stillness of ferns against Seoul’s kinetic skyline. I sat sweating, pondering how cities and souls both thrive when wildness is allowed to breathe through concrete cracks.
Autumn’s Golden Melancholy
Now, in October, the mountain blushes. Ginkgo trees drip gold, and crimson maples ignite like torches. Each step releases the spicy scent of decaying leaves—nature’s incense for introspection. At Namsan Oreugi Garden, elderly locals practice qigong beneath amber boughs, their slow movements mirroring falling leaves. I thought of how autumn teaches surrender; how endings can be breathtaking. A German backpacker beside me sighed, “It’s like the mountain is sighing too.” Yes. Here, grief and beauty share the same root.
Winter’s Silent Clarity
When snow muffles the trail in December, the world shrinks to your breath fogging the air. Bare branches etch calligraphy against pewter skies. Near N Seoul Tower, frozen pagodas stand sentinel over a city now hushed and glittering. Cold sharpens clarity: footsteps echo louder, and your mind—uncluttered as the frosted pines—grasps truths buried under daily noise. Last winter, I met an Italian poet scribbling in a notebook. “Seoul’s chaos feels distant,” she mused. “Mountains freeze time, don’t they?”
The Inner Path
Walking Namsan Dulle-gil is a pilgrimage through mirrored seasons. Spring’s optimism, summer’s abundance, autumn’s release, winter’s stillness—they map our inner landscapes. Foreigners often ask why Seoulites cherish this trail. It’s simple: here, the mountain holds up a mirror. You see skyscrapers but hear birdsong; feel urban exhaustion but taste wild air. In a city obsessed with speed, the dulle-gil whispers: Breathe. Change is the only constant. Grow roots anyway.
As dusk paints the sky peach, I descend past lantern-lit temples. The city’s lights flicker awake below—a thousand human stories. But Namsan’s gift lingers: seasons change, but peace is perennial when you walk mindfully between earth and sky. Come. Lose your way to find yourself.
Practical Tips for Foreign Visitors
- Access: Trails start near Myeongdong Station (Exit 3) or Hangangjin Station.
- Length: Full loop is 7.2km, but sections are manageable.
- Etiquette: Pack out trash; Koreans revere trail cleanliness.
- Best Times: Sunrise for solitude, sunset for city vistas.