Singing a Sung to Korea

When the England football team catch the plane next June to the World Cup Finals in Japan and Korea, who do you think should take the credit?

That nice Swede, Sven Goran Eriksson or that even nicer Mr Beckham? Whoever you decide, I'm afraid you will be wrong. The reasons England are in the finals of the World Cup come down to a footballing monk and my roof tile.

There are 10 World Cup host cities in Korea (and another 10 in Japan), and, if England's luck holds, the team could find themselves on the holiday island of Jeju. Fifty miles south of the Korean peninsula, Jeju, sometimes called Cheju (the Koreans have recently changed the way they anglicise place names) is to Koreans and visiting Japanese what Majorca is to us Brits. In fact, this extinct volcano with its lush vegetation and small fields divided by dry-stone walls is about the size of the Isle of Wight but with the very non-Asian look of the west coast of Ireland.

The two-hour drive from the airport to the south coast is through the tea estates and tangerine groves that take advantage of the tropical climate. Be warned, though, that fertility has to be paid for, so there are only 60 rain-free days every year.

In the small fields old ladies cut barley, which they spread on the road to dry. More smallholdings produce honey, potatoes or rear horses. The Irish look and feel is further enhanced when we slow down in a lane to let a herd of Friesian cows cross on the way to the milking parlour. I have to pinch myself not to suggest a stop for a Guinness, and the cattle do have an Irish connection as the dairy industry was set up by an Irish catholic priest 30 years ago. On the south coast, Jusangjolli Beach has it's own Giant's Causeway with huge hexagonal columns of rock, but that's where the similarity ends.

Offshore, small figures dressed in black wet suits are bobbing in the surf. Here there are hundreds of Haenyo, or diving women, who earn their living from spending hours catching shellfish and sea urchins for which the locals pay handsomely. They free dive without oxygen for those expensive fish. In fact, just outside the new resort of Chungmun, with its five-star hotels, the women have a fish restaurant where I queue for okdom, the local fish delicacy, abalone porridge and the special buckwheat cakes of Jeju. The Venerable monk Sung-gong is waiting next to me.

Now my dictionary defines " venerable" as "deserving to be respected on account of age or religious association". In the case of the Venerable Mr Sung it's certainly not age as he's a young-looking 35, so it must be religion, and yes, he turns out to be the Abbot of nearby Yakshon, the largest Buddhist temple in Asia. For some reason temples are always thought of as being old, but here, surrounded by new tourist development, it is no surprise to discover that, although there's been a humbler place of worship here for eight centuries, the wood carvers and painters didn't leave Yakshon until 1996.

It's a short walk to the monastery office, with its stunning sea views blocked only by steam from the kettle. Mr Sung is an expert on green tea, which arrives daily from the monks' own estate. The other monks, dressed in their traditional grey linen suits, pop in for a cuppa and join my lesson in Korean Chogye Buddhism. The huge, six-storey temple has 18,000 statues of the Buddha and, as a pilgrim, I can stay here in return for a small donation.

While I sit, cross legged on the floor, I can't help but notice the Abbot's socks, the sort where each toe is separate and, for some reason, my mind turns away from matters spiritual to the more mundane subject of football.

You see, I'd just visited the new stadium in nearby Sogwipo City. It's designed to mirror the crater of the island's extinct volcano, Mount Halla, which, at 6,000ft, dominates Jeju. Half the population of 80,000 can be seated in it. As just two World Cup matches are to be played here, I ask the monks which local teams would then be getting a run out on the new grass. The answer is surprising. Quietly they tell me that there are no local professional teams but the monks are playing tomorrow.

I check that nothing has been lost in the translation and - sure enough - Yakshon Temple Monks United play in a blue strip and are in training for a needle match the next day against the city council. "Of course we play football," said the Venerable Sung. "We're young and fit, so why shouldn't we?" It came as no surprise to hear that this young man with close-cropped hair was the centre forward and captain. The monks, it seems, are strong supporters of Arsenal, Manchester United, but not, I'm afraid, Chelsea - the donated strip just happens to be blue. Training is no problem as the monks' day in a monastery of the Chogye Order involves plenty of physical exercise in the beating of gongs, bells, a large wooden fish and drums, which call all beings to hear the words of the Buddha.

At Yakshon the vast drum sits six feet in the air, in its own tower. The right back was wielding the huge drumstick as we went on our temple tour. There is no entry fee to see this magnificent place with its high-pitched roof and hand-painted beams, but there is the traditional suggestion that I may like to contribute towards the building works. "Buy a roof tile," said the Venerable Sung. "Write your wish on the tile and, once it is on our roof, the wish will go straight up to heaven." That's how I came to write "Peace and England to win the World Cup" on a tile and present it to my newfound friends. Well, we've qualified, and a 50 per cent success rate isn't too bad when it comes to wishes ...

? For more information contact the Korean National Tourist Office (020 7321 2535, www.tour2korea.com). Lonely Planet is now providing useful travel information for fans on the Football Association's website (www.the-fa.org) and will add relevant destinations when fixtures are drawn.