It was a calm morning at Gwang-An Beach when I launched my paddleboard into the absence of surf. Since the winds were down and swells small, I paddled away from the beach, which was enclosed by skyscrapers and mountains now blocked by the buildings. The long bridge across Busan straddled the bay and I made the twenty-minute trip to one of the concrete blocks serving as a support. Read more
This post doesn’t need many words; we’re doing more of a photo tour today. If you have questions about the markets of Busan, ask them in the comments section. Across from the fish market, you can get some awesome doughnuts. That’s about all you need to know. Oh, and Korea does doughnuts quite well. This is a post about fish and doughnuts. Yum. Well together, gross, but yum in separate circumstances.
I entered Korea’s Boryeong Mud Festival late; all of the youth were happily slipping and sliding and just caked in the stuff. My t-shirt was still white. Not a good look for anyone at a mud festival, but especially not for me–an old man in his mid-thirties–surrounded by kids nearly half my age. These kids needed the mud because they were stupid; I needed the mud just to fit in. Read more
When I was traveling through one of Korea’s most popular traditional cities, I can’t recall anything that I saw. I simply don’t remember. I know that I had people-watched. But not the sort of people watching that one does at a cafe, gazing at the locals going about their daily rituals; I watched the other tourists, who were obsessed with their selfie sticks. Read more
When I first read about the hanok, traditional Korean houses, I expected something out of a Kung Fu or Kill Bill movie–I know, wrong Asian countries–where the stories flashback to women tiptoeing around in slippers and men wearing robes and thin mustaches parted in the middle. If I stayed there, I figured, I’d experience something like that (despite my inabilities to grow facial hair). But staying in a hanok village would not match my expectations. Read more