Beomil-dong

Busan has been complex. While I’m so glad we were able to come down, it’s most definitely been the most challenging part of the trip. People speak English here, yet lots of people don’t speak English here which means that lots of food choices, for instance are a stab in the dark because they are written in the local language— as they should be!

We set out this morning for Gamcheon Culture village, which I’ve often seen tagged as the “Santorini of Korea.” We opted for a taxi because of its somewhat awkward location and tried to walk up and secure one outside the hotel. The elder taxi guy smiled but clear his English was non existent and he beckoned the next guy who all but shoved us into another empty cab and threw “Gamcheon!” at the driver. I spent the entire journey hoping we’d actually get to our destination and not some other Gamcheon, miles out of our way. Luck was on our side and we arrived at the bright and colorful village in one piece.

Gamcheon was delightful and humble. Set up in a mountain, the tiny homes are painted in colorful hues, perhaps to make up for the fact that it’s clearly in the older, poorer part of town. In the afternoon sun, the painted walls are blinding and yes, reminiscent of Santorini, Greece! We strolled, looked at handmade treasures, took pictures and ate ice cream before bidding farewell.

We got savvy and took another cab to Songdo beach which surprised me with its beauty. As much as I like Haeundai yesterday, I think I liked this one more! A beach is a beach is a beach, but this one has more of an artistic flair to it, with sculptures out in the ocean and an enormous “cloud walk” bridge leading out into the water. Above, cable cars float by, transporting sightseers from one side of the beach to another. It’s a small slice of heaven.

It was hard to leave Busan, I wish we could’ve stayed longer to explore more — maybe next time…Trying to get a train back to Seoul was a nightmare though! We were in the dark as to why all the trains were delayed because the led information screens were, well, actually dark. Workers made announcements with megaphones, while commuters strained to hear what was being said. There were crowd surges and obvious annoyance with people becoming louder and angrier. And hotter. An hour and a half into the delay, it was pandemonium. Hands waving, people pushing, voices yelling — it felt eerily like being in one of those apocalypse movies where the main character has to board the only bus out of town and it’s a fight to get on. And here I am holding a ticket, with zero knowledge of what’s being said or where I should go.

I noticed a short woman looking intently at the tickets in my hand and we made eye contact. She began pointing at my ticket and showing me hers. Although I couldn’t make out everything she was saying, I could understand that her train was delayed too and her attempt at help us. And within moments she was gesturing to follow her. I didn’t even question it and took off after her. Every now and then she’s glance behind, making sure we were keeping up with her quick pace and not being lost to the crowd. We reached the platform and she verified with two separate workers before telling us, “Go straight! Go straight!” Making sure I knew where, I repeated her direction and she simply said, “have a nice day.” She turned and rushed off to her own waiting train.

We trotted straight down the platform and the train was pulling in, moments later we were on our way back to Seoul. Once again, a Korean angel appeared right when we needed one and I truly wish I could thank her again.Läs mer