Seoul DMZ Tour: 3rd Tunnel, Gondola & Suspension Bridge

4.93

(826 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

We rolled out of Seoul just after sunrise—still half-awake, clutching coffee from the station. Our guide Minji was already bright-eyed, cracking jokes about her “DMZ playlist” (which was just ABBA on repeat). The city faded fast behind us and suddenly there were rice paddies, then military fences. I didn’t expect to feel nervous, but you do. At Imjingak Park, the air felt heavy in that way places with too much memory sometimes do. There were yellow ribbons tied everywhere—messages for families divided by the border. We crossed Freedom Bridge quietly. I caught a whiff of incense from someone’s offering nearby.

The 3rd Infiltration Tunnel was next—Minji handed out hard hats (“trust me, you’ll need it”). The tunnel is cramped and damp, echoing with footsteps and your own breath. It’s surreal knowing North Korea dug this toward Seoul; honestly, my heart thudded louder than I’d admit. After squeezing back up to daylight (legs burning), we hit Dora Observatory. The view is strange—flat fields, distant mountains, and through those binoculars… tiny buildings in North Korea. It’s oddly quiet except for kids giggling at the coin-operated viewers. Someone tried to spot movement on the other side; we all did.

If you pick the gondola option (we did), it glides over the Imjin River toward Gallery Greaves. The windows fogged up a little but cleared just as we passed above pine trees and old bunkers—Minji pointed out wildflowers below and told us how her grandfather used to fish here before the war. She laughed when I asked if she’d ever tried crossing the suspension bridge in winter (“Only once! Never again!”). Crossing Chulleong Bridge later was less scary than I thought—the wind tugged at my jacket and I gripped the rail anyway.

I keep thinking about that moment on the bridge: looking down at rocks streaked blue-black under running water, hearing nothing but wind and a far-off bird call. We passed through Unification Village on our way back—a few locals waved as we drove by tractors parked beside tiny shops selling tofu ice cream (which I regret not trying). The whole DMZ day trip from Seoul felt both weighty and weirdly hopeful somehow.