Summer 2023 while driving on the highway from Busan to Gyeongju, I decided to take a meaningful detour. Along the way lie two important sites, the famous Tongdosa Temple, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and the lesser-known Bangudae Petroglyphs, at that time on UNESCO’s Tentative List. Curious to explore something more off the beaten path, I headed toward Bangudae. The road leading from the highway to the Bangudae Petroglyph Museum was freshly paved and well-kept, likely part of a beautification effort as the site prepares for potential World Heritage status. Instead of stopping at the museum immediately, I continued on to a small alley where a walking trail to Bangudae begins. The path runs alongside a peaceful river, offering a gentle immersion into the Korean countryside. I passed a lively riverside restaurant where a group of Korean hikers were enjoying cold beers after a long walk. Further along, I encountered two local tombs and even a site of dinosaur footprints, a reminder of the deep time embedded in this region.

At the end of the trail, I finally reached the Bangudae Petroglyphs, carved into a cliff across the river. But from that viewing point, the carvings were difficult to make out. The famous images of whales and ancient hunting scenes were nearly invisible to the naked eye. Honestly, it was a bit underwhelming. Returning to the museum, however, changed everything. Inside, I found a detailed replica of the Bangudae Petroglyphs, and as I studied it, a wave of recognition hit me - I had seen this very replica before at the Gyeongju National Museum in 2011. The replica revealed intricate carvings of animals, especially whales, and other scenes that were otherwise impossible to see on-site. The whale-themed interior design of the museum is charming. It made the entire visit worthwhile, offering essential context and visual clarity that the actual site lacked. With a better understanding of what I had just seen, I drove back to the main road and took another detour, this time to the Cheonjeon-ri Petroglyphs, a lesser-known site nearby. This visit was easier and, in some ways, more rewarding. I parked along the road and followed a short wooden walkway that led directly to the carvings. Here, unlike at Bangudae, I could get much closer to the rock face. Though still difficult to interpret in fine detail, the visual style stood out. The abstract and symbolic motifs reminded me unexpectedly of Aboriginal art, or even modern abstract painting—bold, expressive, and mysterious. 

Although both Bangudae and Cheonjeon-ri were somewhat underwhelming and hard to appreciate at first glance, it was the museum experience that brought them to life. Through replicas and interpretation, the story of ancient people and their relationship with the sea and wild animals became vivid and powerful. After days of exploring Korea’s World Heritage Sites filled with Joseon-era wooden halls and neatly preserved tomb clusters, Bangudae felt different. While it may not impress, it offered something more subtle, a quiet, almost forgotten memory carved into stone, half-hidden across a river. In its modesty, it was oddly refreshing, a small anecdote among Korea’s monumental past.