Anmyeonam Hermitage: My Guide to Taean’s Magical ‘Floating Pagodas’

Hey everyone! Let me tell you, after living and traveling around Korea for a while, you think you’ve seen all the ‘types’ of temples. You’ve got your grand, colorful palaces in Seoul like Gyeongbokgung, and your majestic mountain temples like Bulguksa in Gyeongju. I genuinely thought I had the “temple” category all figured out. I was wrong. So, so wrong.

A few weeks ago, I was feeling that all-too-familiar Seoul burnout. You know, that ‘ppalli-ppalli’ (hurry, hurry) culture finally catching up to you. I needed an escape. I needed… well, I wasn’t sure what I needed. I just knew I needed air and quiet. A friend casually mentioned a place in Taean called Anmyeonam Hermitage (안면암), saying something about a “temple that floats on the sea.”

“Floats?” I was skeptical. But I was also intrigued. I packed a small weekend bag, grabbed a bus ticket, and headed west, not really knowing what to expect. What I found wasn’t just a temple. It was an experience. It was part-meditation, part-adventure, and 100% pure magic. If you’re looking for a place that will genuinely take your breath away and quiet your mind, this is it. Trust me.

So, What’s the Real Story with Anmyeonam Hermitage? 🗺️

First off, let’s get our bearings. Anmyeonam isn’t a massive, sprawling complex. The word “Am” (암) in its name means “hermitage,” which is typically a smaller, more secluded satellite temple associated with a larger one. But “small” doesn’t mean “less impressive.” In this case, it means more intimate, more personal.

It’s located in Taean-gun, Chungcheongnam-do, on the west coast of Korea. This area is famous for its stunning coastline (Taean Haean National Park is right there) and, crucially, its massive tidal flats, or ‘gaetbeol’ (갯벌). These aren’t just little sandbars; we’re talking about huge expanses of the seabed that are exposed to the air twice a day. It’s one of the largest and most important tidal flat ecosystems in the world.

And Anmyeonam Hermitage is built right on the edge of this dramatic landscape.

From the shore, the hermitage itself is perched on a rocky outcrop, overlooking the water. But the real magic, the thing that gets all the attention, isn’t the main building. It’s what lies out in the bay: two pagodas, known as the Bulsangtap (부상탑), which translates to… you guessed it… the “Floating Pagodas.”

Now, they don’t actually float. But at high tide, the water of the West Sea (or Yellow Sea) comes all the way in, completely surrounding them, making them look like mystical beacons rising directly from the waves. It’s a beautiful sight.

But at low tide? That’s when the miracle happens. The water recedes… and recedes… and keeps receding… revealing a long, winding path of exposed seabed that connects the shore straight to the pagodas. And yes, you can walk it.

The Main Event: My Walk on the Seabed 🚶‍♀️

I’m calling this the “main event” because, honestly, it’s the core of the Anmyeonam experience. I’d checked the tide schedule (more on that in a second, it’s CRITICAL) and arrived about an hour before peak low tide. The water was already way, way out.

Walking down from the hermitage, you step onto this wooden bridge that extends out, and then… you’re on the ocean floor. It’s a feeling I can’t quite describe. It’s squishy. The air smells intensely of salt, brine, and life. You can hear the tiny popping sounds of little mud crabs burrowing all around you. It’s not silent; it’s the sound of a living ecosystem.

Koreans often call this “Moses’ Miracle,” and it’s easy to see why. You’re walking on land that, just a few hours before, was deep underwater. The path isn’t paved; it’s just wet sand and mud, marked by the footsteps of others. As I walked, I looked back at the hermitage, which seemed to be guarding the shore, and then forward to the two pagodas, which got bigger with every step. I felt incredibly small, in the best possible way. All that Seoul stress? It just… evaporated. It was just me, the wind, and the vast, open seabed.

The pagodas themselves are simple, elegant stone structures. They feel ancient, even if they aren’t, serving as spiritual markers in this ever-changing landscape. Reaching them feels like a pilgrimage. I touched the cold stone, looked out at the remaining water on the horizon, and just… breathed. I’m not even kidding, I think I stood out there for 30 minutes just staring.

This is the photo-op, by the way. You, standing next to a “floating” pagoda, with the sea all around you (or, at low tide, the vast mudflats). It’s spectacular.

Your #1 Priority: The Anmyeonam Tide Schedule ⏰

I’m dedicating an entire section to this because if you ignore this part, your trip will be a bust. I’m serious. You cannot just “show up” at Anmyeonam and expect to walk to the pagodas. If you arrive at high tide, you’ll just be a person on a cliff staring at some pagodas in the water. Still pretty, but not the experience you came for.

So, how do you do it? It’s pretty easy.

Planning your whole day around this “golden window” is the key to a perfect trip. It’s the difference between an “okay” visit and a “magical” one.

More Than a Walk: The Vibe at Anmyeonam 🧘

While the walk is the star, don’t miss the hermitage itself. It’s a functioning Buddhist temple, and the atmosphere is incredibly peaceful. Remember to be respectful: talk softly, be mindful of people who are there to pray, and dress modestly (covering shoulders and knees is always a good rule of thumb at Korean temples).

The Main Temple Hall

The main hall, the Daeungjeon, is beautiful. It’s adorned with intricate, colorful paintings (dancheong) and has a golden Buddha statue inside. I popped in, gave a respectful bow, and just sat in the back for a few minutes. The sound of the monks’ chanting, mixed with the distant cry of seagulls and the sea breeze, was… well, it’s the kind of peace you can’t buy. It’s a perfect place for a moment of quiet meditation or just simple reflection. The complex also has a large reclining Buddha statue and other shrines to explore.

Chasing the Sun: Sunrise vs. Sunset

Here’s a weird thing: Anmyeonam is on the West Coast, which is famous for its killer sunsets. And let me tell you, the sunset here, with the sky turning orange and purple over the pagodas, is unreal.

But… the source material I read, and even some locals, said the sunrise is also spectacular. I was confused, but then I saw it. Because the hermitage faces east-ish over the bay, the sun rises behind you, illuminating the hermitage and the pagodas with that soft, golden morning light. And if it’s low tide, the light reflects off the entire wet mudflat, making the whole world glow. It’s breathtaking.

My verdict? If you can, stay overnight nearby and see both. If you have to choose, the sunset is probably the more classic, dramatic “wow” moment. But if you’re a morning person, you will not be disappointed by the sunrise.

The Surrounding Beach

There’s a small, quiet beach right next to the hermitage. It’s not a “lay out and tan” kind of beach, but it’s perfect for a quiet walk. I loved just meandering along the coastline, picking up shells, and watching the local fishermen. It’s a simple, grounding pleasure.

My Pro-Tips for Your Anmyeonam Trip (The Nitty-Gritty) 📝

Alright, let’s get practical. You’re convinced, you’re going. Here’s what you really need to know.

What to Wear (And What NOT to Wear)

This is almost as important as the tide schedule. That “seabed” is a mudflat. It is wet, slippery, and will ruin your favorite shoes.

Your best bets are:

• Aqua Shoes: This is what I wore. They’re perfect. Good grip, totally waterproof, and you can rinse them off easily.
• Old Sneakers: A pair you’re willing to sacrifice to the mud gods.
• Rain Boots (Gumboots): A fantastic option, especially if you want to explore the squishier parts.

Also, bring layers. Even on a hot day, the wind coming off the sea can be chilly. A light windbreaker is your best friend.

How to Get There

Okay, I’ll be real: Anmyeonam is not exactly on the Seoul subway line. It’s a bit of a trek, but that’s what makes it a hidden gem.

• By Car: This is, by far, the easiest way. It’s about a 2.5 to 3-hour drive from Seoul. Plug “Anmyeonam” (안면암) into Naver Maps or Kakao Maps, and you’re golden. There’s a decent-sized parking lot.
• By Public Transport: This is an adventure, but doable!
  1. Take an express bus from Seoul’s Central City (Express Bus) Terminal to Taean Bus Terminal. (About 2.5 hours).
  2. From Taean Terminal, you have two choices:
     • Taxi: The easiest and fastest way. It’ll probably cost around 20,000-25,000 KRW and take 20-30 minutes.
     • Local Bus: This is cheaper but much slower and more complicated. You’d need to find the local bus heading towards Anmyeondo and get off at the right stop. Honestly, for this specific spot, I’d just spring for the taxi from the terminal.

Let’s Talk Food: Fueling Your Taean Adventure 🦀

You can’t go to Taean and not eat. This region is famous for its seafood, and you’d be doing yourself a disservice if you didn’t indulge. After my spiritual walk, I was starving.

There are two dishes you must try:

1. Gegukji (게국지): This is the local rockstar. It’s a Taean specialty you won’t find in many other places. It’s a spicy, hearty stew made with crab, shrimp, and a special kimchi, all simmered together. It’s briny, savory, spicy, and just… oh man. It’s a hug in a bowl. I found a restaurant nearby, ordered a pot for one, and pretty much licked the bowl clean. 😋

2. Ganjang Gejang (간장게장): The “rice thief.” This is raw crab marinated in a sweet and savory soy sauce. Now, I know “raw crab” can sound intimidating to some of my fellow Americans, but I am begging you to trust me on this. It’s not fishy. The meat is like a sweet, custardy jelly. You suck it out of the shell and then—this is the best part—you take your bowl of rice and mix it into the main crab shell (the ‘deungttakji’) that’s full of rich, orange roe and tomalley. It is one of the best bites of food in all of Korea.

There are plenty of restaurants clustered around the main roads in Anmyeondo. Don’t be afraid to just pick one that looks busy with locals.

My Final Verdict: Is Anmyeonam Hermitage Worth It? 🌟

A thousand times, yes. This isn’t just another temple. It’s not just another pretty beach. It’s an interaction with nature. It’s a place that forces you to slow down and align with a different rhythm—the rhythm of the ocean.

In a life that feels like it’s always at high tide, Anmyeonam is the gift of the low tide. It’s the quiet space, the unexpected path, the moment of peace. It’s one of those special places that sticks with you, and I am so glad I went. I left feeling lighter, calmer, and genuinely refreshed. And, okay, also really full of crab. 🦀

It’s a bit of a journey, but I promise you, the best places always are.

Frequently Asked Questions ❓

So, what do you think? Have I convinced you? I really hope this guide helps you plan your own magical trip. If you have any more questions, or if you’ve been to Anmyeonam and have your own stories, please share them in the comments below! I’d love to hear them. 😊