Four nights for just $33: The almost unbelievably cheap island workcation off South Korea's west coast

Two islands floating side by side off the coast of Boryeong, South Chungcheong Province, tell very different stories. Sapshido is a place to recharge — somewhere to work and rest at the same time. Godaedo, by contrast, is a quiet retreat where history and religious heritage invite reflection. The journey to both islands begins the moment you step aboard the ferry, and the healing starts there.

Sapshido lies 50 minutes by passenger ferry from Daecheon Port. Since the Boryeong Undersea Tunnel linking Daecheon Port and Wonsando opened in December 2021, nearby islands have grown increasingly accessible — almost indistinguishable from the mainland. Sapshido, however, has held on to its old tranquility. The island's name, locals say, comes from its geography: the dramatically curved coastline resembles a bow with an arrow nocked and ready to fly.

The best way to take in Sapshido is along the coastal "Sapshido Dulle-gil" trail, on foot or by bicycle. At the fishing village experience center near the port — a natural starting point for any island visit — about 20 bicycles are available free of charge. Im Mi-ja, the center's manager, laughed and said demand has been light enough that the bikes are "practically brand new."

The trail runs about 6 kilometers — not a short distance, but on a bicycle you can race along breathing in the sea air, a cool breeze brushing your cheeks as the broad West Sea opens up before you.

Pedaling slowly through the village, a black dog burst out from a seaside raw-fish restaurant and gave chase. Plump and panting, it kept pace for a surprisingly long stretch, its enthusiastic gallop feeling like a personal send-off for a stranger passing through. Asked the dog's name, a villager replied: "Deuksil." The owner's name is Deukjeom — meaning "to score points" — so the dog was named Deuksil, meaning "to lose points." The wordplay drew an involuntary smile.

The entire ride offered an unbroken view of blue sea and sky to the left, with cheerful murals covering the village walls. The trail connects the island's highlights like stepping stones: Myeonsapji, a tidal flat cut off at high tide and accessible only when the sea retreats; Mulmangter, a spring where fresh water wells up from the rocks at low tide; a grove of golden Japanese black pine — a rare golden mutation found almost nowhere else in the world; and a beach of fine sand and crystal-clear water. A single loop takes in everything the island has to offer.

A full loop of Sapshido fills an entire day, and it is only natural to want to stay longer. That is where the island plays its trump card: a workcation program priced at just 30,000 won (about $20) for one night and two days, covering accommodation, activities and use of a shared office. The longer you stay, the more subsidy you receive — a four-night, five-day stay costs a total of only 50,000 won (about $33). In an era of high prices, the figure seems almost fictional. The South Chungcheong Culture and Tourism Foundation and the Korea Fisheries Infrastructure Public Agency provide subsidies that make the low rates possible.

Stepping into the workcation center, the West Sea fills the view through floor-to-ceiling windows. Wi-Fi covers the space and every desk has a power outlet. For city dwellers, the greatest draw is that the ocean is just a few steps away the moment work ends. When your eyes tire from the screen, you can rest them on the horizon outside; when your fingers stiffen on the keyboard, you can walk out onto the rocks. The island's sense of isolation sharpens concentration, and the ability to step straight onto the beach after closing the laptop restores body and mind. On Sapshido, the boundary between work and life dissolves on its own.

After work, guests can join a range of hands-on programs — fishing, digging for clams on the tidal flat, catching shore crabs and napkin crafts, among others. Visitors who collect glass shards and other debris from the beach receive a 20 percent discount on activity fees, weaving environmental stewardship into the fun.

The owner of Geumseol Pension, where the reporter spent the night, called Sapshido "a good island that hasn't been spoiled the way other places have." Originally from Ilsan in Gyeonggi Province, he followed his wife on a visit, fell for the island and has now lived there for more than 12 years. He was enthusiastic about the workcation program.

"There's even a foreign IT company employee staying here — because of the time difference, he starts work early, finishes early, and the rest of the day is entirely his own," he said. "Just bring yourself and whatever work you need. I can show you everything — fishing, activities, all of it."

Word is already out among those in the know. Last year, 70 workcation visitors came to Sapshido, and local income from the program grew to 53 times what it was in 2023, when the initiative launched. Im said the team has put considerable effort into improving the visitor experience — preparing bicycles for easy getting around, installing coffee machines in each accommodation unit and replacing worn bedding with hotel-quality linens.

The Sapshido workcation suits those who want to stay long enough to find their own rhythm of work and rest. Prices may change once the subsidy pool runs out, so moving quickly is advisable. The program is open to anyone who works — freelancers and salaried employees alike — with a limit of two stays per person per year. Because the program aims to draw visitors in the off-season, peak summer months (July and August) and weekends are excluded from the subsidy. Applications are accepted through "The Hueill," a dedicated workcation platform.

Pairing a visit to Sapshido with a trip to the neighboring island of Godaedo makes for a richer itinerary. A 20-minute ferry ride from Sapshido brings you to Godaedo, known as the site of the first Protestant missionary work in Korea. Pastor Jeong Sun-mok, who greeted the visiting party, explained that the island also goes by the nickname "God-aedo" — a bilingual pun meaning "the island God loves." The name fits: Godaedo carries the full weight of its religious history.

On July 25, 1832, the merchant vessel Lord Amherst, chartered by the British East India Company, dropped anchor in Godaedo's inner harbor. On board was Karl Gützlaff, a Protestant missionary from Prussia.

Gützlaff stayed on the island for about 20 days and accomplished a great deal in that short time. He distributed Chinese-language Bibles and evangelical pamphlets, shared methods for growing potatoes and making wine out of concern for Joseon's food shortages, and — with the help of a village schoolteacher — attempted to translate the Lord's Prayer into Korean. His visit predated other missionaries who shaped Korean Protestant history by more than half a century, and the footprints he left became the foundation for a new chapter in that history.

That legacy has transformed Godaedo from a small island into a pilgrimage site. The official information board near the harbor carries the phrase "the island God loves," a testament to how seriously the island takes its religious story. The life and achievements of Gützlaff are documented at the Godaedo Mission Center, also near the harbor.

The Karl Gützlaff Memorial Park is considered a must-visit on the island. The road leading to it is narrow — budget constraints meant it was built just wide enough for a single tractor to pass. Riding out in a truck, the vehicle scraped against the wall, but the driver carried on without a second thought, as if it were an everyday occurrence.

At the entrance to the memorial park stands a large black stone monument. The inscription — "He woke us; now we wake him" — leaves a strong impression. Nearby stand a steel sculpture modeled on the church where Gützlaff studied and a large sailing ship replica inspired by the vessel that brought him to Korea's shores. Standing before the near-life-size ship, it is easy to imagine the moment it first dropped anchor here.

Near the Gützlaff Memorial Park lies a photogenic spot known as "Baengburyeo" — a stretch of submerged rock that emerges when the tide goes out, its shallow pools mirroring the sky so perfectly that visitors are reminded of Bolivia's Uyuni salt flats. Many stop in their tracks and reach for their cameras.

As the light shifts, so does the color of the water. When clouds drift overhead, their shadows glide across the surface below. In that still, unhurried scene, visitors slow their pace like pilgrims and find themselves reconsidering the speed of their own lives. A brief disconnection from the fast-moving, always-connected world — that, in the end, is what makes these islands worth the journey.