Our journey began with excitement for Jeju Island, South Korea’s renowned destination, advertised as visa-free for most nationalities worldwide, with only a few exceptions. After discovering a few Indian travelers who had successfully visited Jeju without a visa, we meticulously researched the requirements on both the Jeju and Korean government websites. Finding no specific conditions beyond the general entry rules, and confident in our extensive travel history, good record, and established work and family ties in India, we proceeded with our plans. We booked return tickets, hotel accommodations, travel insurance, and international SIM cards, leaving no stone unturned.

The First Shock: An Unreasonable Demand at Bangkok Airport

Our itinerary included a three-night layover in Bangkok before our flight to Jeju. Upon arriving at Bangkok Airport, a representative from Juneyao Airlines demanded we show a significant amount of cash. We questioned the need for such a large sum, explaining our reliance on cards and digital payments. Despite our attempts to show account balances, they were fixated on physical cash, adopting a threatening tone: “Show cash to board the flight, or step aside.” Trapped inside the airport with only one ATM offering exploitative exchange rates (four times worse than market value), we were forced to arrange the cash, desperate not to lose the money already invested in our bookings. The airline staff then made us meticulously count every single banknote on a table before finally allowing us to board.

Jeju Island: A Dream Turned into a Traumatic Detention

Landing at Jeju Island Airport, our excitement was palpable. However, what followed was deeply traumatizing. At the immigration counter, an officer glanced at our Indian passports, asked no questions, and immediately directed us both forward. After taking our fingerprints, we were handed over to another officer and led to a waiting room. We were asked if we were comfortable with an interview in English, to which we affirmed. Two detailed forms were provided, asking about our purpose of visit, occupation, family, and other personal information. As we began filling them out, my wife was called for her interview.

My wife’s experience mirrored mine almost exactly. Despite requesting an English interview, we were provided a disengaged, third-rate interpreter via phone. It was an individual from South India tasked with Hindi interpretation, speaking in an extremely condescending manner, questioning if we were refugees or seeking asylum. I reiterated that we were genuine tourists visiting for Christmas and New Year. When I detailed our itinerary – including Mount Hallasan, the Christmas Museum, and other attractions – the interpreter laughed, suggesting I mispronounced places. Shortly after, a female officer handed me a paper stating “Entry Denied: Purpose of Stay Not Clear,” stamped with “REJECTED.” The stamp, notably, was already there, not applied in front of me. The interpreter claimed my inability to correctly name locations fueled doubts about my intentions, despite my attempts to explain my established work and genuine tourist status. The interview was abruptly concluded. The same happened to my wife. Our passports, return tickets, cash, and insurance were completely disregarded.

The Horror of “Detention” and Airline Exploitation

Initially, I was annoyed but considered simply leaving. However, our passports were confiscated. When I requested them back to depart immediately, I was told the airline would return them later. We were then led into a windowless, packed area resembling a detention center. There, we were presented with more forms, claiming we were receiving proper accommodation and food. I refused to sign without seeing these provisions. A Korean man, acting like a jailer, aggressively shouted in his language, coercing us into signing the forms. I still hoped for a hotel room, but instead, we were led to two halls, one for men and one for women, separated by a smoking room. These were clearly bare barracks. We refused to enter, demanding an immigration officer or better conditions, even offering to pay. Our pleas were ignored, and we were locked inside. We were given a sugary juice and a stale, sweet bun.

We spent hours in the smoking room, avoiding the bleak halls. There was no sunlight, and no proper drinking glasses; only tiny paper pouches for a sip of water from the cooler. We observed others, mostly Indians, Chinese, and Indonesians. Eventually, an airline representative appeared, confirming our entry denial was final. When I asked for my passport to book the next available flight home, he insisted we could only fly back with their airline. He claimed our original return flight, booked with China Eastern, could not be changed. This was an obvious attempt to force us into booking exorbitantly priced Juneyao flights, which were scarce. With only two business class seats available, I reluctantly agreed, desperate to escape the “jail-like” conditions. Yet, he then informed me I could only fly economy, the next day. This coercion was infuriating; they controlled our departure, forcing an overnight stay in dire conditions. The Indian Embassy number provided no help, with an automated Korean message system.

A Night of Despair and Disturbing Revelations

Trapped and distressed, we spent the night in the smoking room. Dinner arrived at 5 PM – the worst food I had ever tasted, reminiscent of prison fare. This wasn’t a cultural palate issue; it was simply inedible. We were being treated like criminals, despite being legitimate tourists. Around 11 PM, I spoke with other detainees. The Indonesian travelers shared similar stories: one was rejected for traveling with friends instead of his wife, another for not traveling with his child, despite having valid bookings and a return flight just two days away. He showed me WhatsApp messages from China Eastern staff, coercing him to book a new flight with them, even resorting to abusive language like, “I hope you die in that cell. You will have your last breath in Korea. I will make sure you will never get out of here.” This was the same airline we had our original return flight with. Such hostility only amplified our fear.

My wife and I decided to try and rest in our respective halls. While her section was relatively clean due to fewer women, mine was a repulsive, smelly jail cell with a dirty washroom, a two-centimeter thin mattress, and a brick-hard pillow. The 5 PM meal was our only food until the next morning. We endured the night, woken abruptly at 7 AM by loud claps and blinding lights. No tea or coffee, just more sweet juice and the infamous sweet bun, with a side of rice, potatoes, and sweet pickles for lunch – food even the Chinese detainees, known for their diverse palates, refused to touch. We were weak and anxious, with no assurance about our departure.

Shanghai Transit: From Bad to Worse

A kind staff member, seeing our distress, eventually assured us we would depart that day. Our flight involved an 8-hour layover in Shanghai, where Indians typically receive a 24-hour visa-free transit. Before boarding our delayed flight, we were denied lunch, told “there is no lunch for you because you are leaving,” and forced to eat the same juice and bun. Finally, on the plane, I felt a glimmer of hope. It had been the worst 24 hours of my life, treated as criminals for no crime.

Arriving in Shanghai, we hoped for a clean restroom and a proper meal. But the nightmare continued. An airline employee escorted us to immigration. After some whispered conversation and fingerprints, we were sent to a waiting area. The next 8 hours were worse than Jeju. Phones were confiscated, no food or water was allowed, and bathroom breaks required a police escort, with the door forced open, even for my wife. We were constantly monitored by police officers with body cameras, rotating every hour. Despite repeated pleas, we were only told, “Wait one moment.” After hours, I begged for food; they said the airline would bring it. Water was given in tiny sips after a long wait. Our family was disconnected for 8 hours. We sat there, weeping, while young police officers stared impassively. Finally, the airline brought a bag of more sweet buns and biscuits. We hadn’t tasted salt or slept properly in almost two days. As we boarded our flight, our passports were returned with a chilling warning: “Don’t tell anyone what happened. You are lucky we didn’t stamp your passport. Don’t tell anyone.”

A Warning to Future Travelers

This experience left my wife and me deeply traumatized, its after-effects lingering for weeks. I am sharing this because there is a shocking lack of information regarding Jeju’s immigration practices. My research later revealed that some individuals, primarily Indians and Chinese, attempt to use Jeju as a backdoor to mainland South Korea, leading to these draconian measures against almost all Indian visitors. While denying entry is a nation’s right, treating genuine tourists as criminals, detaining them in deplorable conditions, and extorting them through coercive airline practices is utterly unjustifiable and racist.

We were fortunate to have the financial means to book an exorbitant return flight the very next day. Many others, with limited budgets and distant return dates, would be forced to endure days, or even weeks, in those prison-like conditions. Airlines should be held accountable; if all documents were cleared at the point of origin (like Bangkok for us), and issues arise at immigration, the pressure should be on the airlines to facilitate a proper return, not on the tourists to suffer criminal-like detention. As travelers, we seek enjoyable experiences, not trauma. I will never return to Jeju or likely South Korea. If you plan to visit, be prepared for the worst, though I sincerely hope such an ordeal never befalls you.