Please be Ready!
My next stop was Busan... another enormous South Korean city... and I was already preparing myself for another Seoul-like experience.
But HOLD ON! Shut the front door!
I LOVED BUSAN!
The funny thing is... I can't quite put my finger on why I love Busan so much... and I've been trying, desperately, to figure it out. Maybe Seoul was just a little too 'in my face.' Maybe I was jet-lagged. Maybe I was overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.
Who knows?
But Busan? ... Busan and I got along just fine.
Besties. It felt more relaxed. More easygoing. Less hurried. It didn't have that high-intensity, hyper-dense, slightly overwhelming megalopolis atmosphere that Seoul seemed to throw at me from every direction.
I could breathe in Busan.
Yep.
Anyway, before I get carried away with my newfound love for Busan, I need to tell you about something that happened on my way there. Because, honestly... some people.
Let's talk about Uber in South Korea.
First of all... Uber exists in South Korea... and let me tell you... it's a wonderful little app to have at your fingertips when you've got a significant distance to travel. Or even an insignificant distance. I'm not judging. But there's something a little different about Uber here compared to back home.
Tipping.
In Canada, once your ride is finished, the app gives you the option to leave a tip. You can choose a percentage, enter your own amount... or even decide the ride wasn't particularly tip-worthy. Whatever you want.
Here? Nope.
No tipping option appears in my app. At all.
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Now, I know tipping isn't customary in South Korea, but I'm Canadian. Tipping is practically ingrained in my DNA. So I like to keep a few bills tucked away in my pocket, just in case I encounter a driver who... is nice. Friendly, welcoming... maybe even offering a little conversation despite the language barrier.
Other times? Ugh...
One driver, a few days earlier, was soooo aggressive... and erratic! I wrote about my experience with him. No tip for him. BUT... the money is always there in my pocket. It just doesn't always make it out. Anyway... I'd arranged for an Uber to pick me up from my accommodation in Gyeongju and take me to the train station, about 20 minutes away, where I'd be catching my train to Busan.
My driver pulled up. I was standing outside with my luggage... ready to go.
He popped the trunk... and sat there.
Ok.
I'm a strong, independent, perfectly capable woman. I can manage my own luggage. I opened the trunk, lifted my suitcase inside, closed it, opened the back passenger door, climbed in, closed the door, fastened my seatbelt... and settled in.
"Hello!" I said cheerfully.
Nothing.
"Hello!" I tried again.
This time I got something resembling a grunt. Possibly a hello. Possibly indigestion.
Hard to say.
Honestly, I wasn't asking for much.
A smile would have been nice.
A little acknowledgement that I was in the vehicle, perhaps?
But it doesn't matter. We were on our way... and I still had that tip money tucked away in my pocket. He still had time to redeem himself.
Spoiler alert: He didn't.
We arrived at the train station... and he pulled over near where passengers were being dropped off. I opened my door... climbed out, and walked around to the back of the car to retrieve my luggage. I'd left the back passenger door open while I did this. He popped the trunk... and, once again, remained firmly planted in his seat.
Ok. Fine.
No biggie.
Again... I am perfectly capable of getting my own luggage out. I opened the trunk, grabbed my suitcase, lifted it out, placed it on the pavement... and... AND? ...I am NOT kidding you. THE SECOND MY SUITCASE TOUCHED THE GROUND... HE DROVE AWAY! Pedal to the metal.
"WHOA!" I yelled.
WHAT THE ACTUAL F*CK?!
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The trunk was still wide open! The back passenger door was still open! And I was standing there beside the car! Seriously?!
He slammed on the brakes.
For a split second, I thought perhaps he'd realized what he'd done.
Maybe he'd heard me yell and was concerned.
Maybe he thought I'd forgotten something in the car.
Maybe... just maybe... he'd realized that driving away while your passenger is still unloading her luggage is a spectacularly rude thing to do.
How optimistic of me.
Nope.
He'd slammed on the brakes so that the momentum would swing the trunk and passenger door shut without him having to get out of the car. I kid you not.
Just a good old-fashioned slam on the brakes to finish the job... and off he went.
I stood there staring after him... complete disbelief... suitcase in hand... wondering what on earth had just happened.
WTF?!
Can you believe that?
I've travelled to a lot of places, encountered all sorts of characters, and experienced my fair share of questionable transportation decisions. But this? This was a new one. No tip. And honestly... I really do try to tip. I do. Some people make it awfully difficult to be generous.
Anyway... there I was at the train station... ready to make my way from Gyeongju to Busan. The train ticket was approximately $20.
But WAIT!! ... For an additional FOUR DOLLARS, I could upgrade to premium class.
Damn straight!!
I didn't even care that the train ride wasn't particularly long. If there's an opportunity to experience a little luxury for $4, you bet I'm taking it. Perhaps 'luxury' is a long stretch...
But who cares? I was throwing caution to the wind. There I was, travelling around South Korea, taking Ubers, not tipping... living the high life.
Watch me, Nae Nae!
It was bliss. I had an enormous, wonderfully comfortable chair, with LOADS of legroom. Luxury, I tell you. Pure luxury.
I arrived in Busan and managed to navigate to my hotel... conveniently located right in the heart of the city... AND HAD A BED!
An actual bed.
A real bed. Off the ground, raised bed.
Not a thin mattress on the floor.
Nope.
A BED!
I cannot even begin to describe the joy I felt when I opened that hotel room door and saw the bed. Tears of happiness. Tears of joy.
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But enough bed shenanigans; I had a city to explore! I'd already spent some time pinning a ridiculous number of places on my map... and I was determined to see as many as possible before the sun went down. So off I went...
And I covered some serious ground.
I started by wandering through Nampo-dong, soaking up the atmosphere and getting a feel for my new surroundings. Nampo-dong is one of Busan's oldest and liveliest neighbourhoods... a hodgepodge of markets, narrow alleyways, street food stalls, quirky shops and modern shopping. It's 'gritty, old-world charm' meets 'a little chaotic and full of character.'
I ate kimchi dumplings.
Twice.
That's how scrumptious they were.
One place I'd been eager to visit in Busan was Bosu Book Street... a supposedly charming little area known for its secondhand bookshops. Sounds pretty lovable, right? Unfortunately, by the time I arrived, most of the shops were closed up... and looked like they hadn't been open in quite a while. Maybe it was the time of year. A small handful were still open, but the bustling little literary neighbourhood I'd imagined wasn't quite what I found.
Oh well...
Onward!
I eventually made my way to the 168 Stairs... a well-known local landmark that climbs steeply into the historic hillside neighbourhood of Choryang Ibagu-gil.
Let me tell you something about those stairs...
They were STEEP.
Dauntinly steep.
There was actually a little monorail that could take you from the bottom to the top, saving you the effort of climbing all those steps... but did I take it?
Nope.
I decided to tackle the stairs myself and test my fitness. I even counted them as I climbed. Somewhere along the way, I managed to count 173. Pretty impressive considering there are only 168. I have absolutely no idea where those extra five stairs came from. Must have been the exhilaration of my exhaustion.
But I made it!
And the view from the top?
Spectacular!
Imagine if I climbed those stairs every single day?
I'd be fit as!
I spent some time wandering through the village... exploring the narrow (steep) lanes and admiring the views, before eventually making my way back down toward my accommodation.
I had a VERY serious reason to get back to my hotel. Sure... it was getting dark, and the temperature was dropping. Sure... my feet were tired... and so was the rest of me. But none of those were the REAL reason.
Oh, no.
There was something far more pressing. Something that simply couldn't wait another minute. Something of utmost importance.
...
......
.........
............ My outfit.
I was wearing army-green capris, a grey T-shirt, and an army-green rain jacket. All at the same time.
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Separately... these are perfectly acceptable pieces of clothing. But together? I looked like I'd just wandered off the set of M*A*S*H.
Honestly.
The 4077th Mobile Army Surgical Hospital had a new recruit. All I needed was a helmet and a commanding officer. Embarrassing. I desperately needed to get back to my hotel and hide... or change.
But first...
One slightly more pressing matter remained.
A foot massage.
Priorities. Priorities. Priorities.
Can I just mention something else I've noticed about South Korea? Where the heck are all the garbage cans? Seriously.
They are nonexistent. Whenever I have trash in my hand, I feel as though I could walk for decades before finding somewhere to dispose of it. But the minute I don't have anything to throw away? Suddenly, I'd spot one. Not everywhere, obviously. That would be an exaggeration. But... public garbage cans are definitely few and far between.
Toilets, on the other hand? Plentiful!
And signs directing you toward them? Everywhere!
Apparently, South Korea is very concerned about making sure you can find somewhere to pee. But disposing of your empty coffee cup? Good luck with that.
The following morning, I'd booked myself into a group tour of Busan.
Yes. A group tour.
I know, I know.
For someone who regularly complains about group tours, I certainly seem to sign up for a lot of them. But sometimes... they're simply the easiest way to see places... learn a little history and visit areas that would be difficult to reach independently.
And Busan? Busan is HUGE.
I don't think I fully appreciated just how enormous the city was until we spent approximately 40 minutes driving through it. A few times. At one point, I genuinely thought we'd left Busan and entered another city.
Nope.
Still Busan. Just more Busan.
... And more.
...... And more.
......... And more...
The tour was on a bus. Again.
A BIG bus. Again.
Ugh...
44 people.
Double ugh...
Now... as someone who runs tours myself, I have to say that the thought of managing 44 tourists for an entire day is enough to strike me dead. But our guide, Sol, was extraordinary. She was lovely. Kind. Gracious. Friendly. Patient. Always smiling. And somehow... miraculously... She managed to keep all 44 of us organized. AND... she even memorized everyone's name! There are people I've known for two year+ and I still can't remember their names. How she managed it all is beyond me. I would have snapped within the first ten minutes.
But not Sol.
She just kept smiling.
And repeating her favourite phrase.
"Please be ready."
Everywhere we went, she'd get on the microphone and explain where we were going, what we'd be seeing and how long it would take to get there. Then she'd finish with a lovely big smile.
"Please be ready."
Please be ready.
Please be ready.
Please be ready
It became the unofficial motto of the entire day.
And she was VERY serious about making sure we knew what time we needed to return to the bus.
Let's say we had to be back at 3:30.
She'd announce it over the loudspeaker...
"Three thirty. Three thirty. Please be ready. Three thirty."
Then she'd hold up three fingers. Then another three. Then she'd make a zero with her fingers.
Three.
Three.
Zero.
3:30.
Got it?
"Please be ready."
There was absolutely NO excuse for anyone not knowing when to return.
She'd told us.
Repeated it.
Demonstrated it.
Practically performed it in sign language.
"Please be ready."
As wonderful as Sol was, I couldn't help noticing that she also had a few little side hustles going on throughout the day. While we were driving, she'd occasionally slip in a little promotion for some sort of beauty product or skincare ritual. At one point, she seemed particularly determined to convince us all of the wonders of a snail-slime facial product that she just happened to have for sale. Sounds dreadful... but apparently, snail slime is quite the thing in Korean skincare. At one of our stops, she casually mentioned that if anyone wasn't particularly interested in wandering around taking photographs, she knew a lovely little place where we could enjoy a foot massage. All we had to do was mention her name. Same went for a facial in another town.
A little commission here.
A little referral there.
Good for her!
I mean, 44 tourists trapped on a bus all day?
I'd probably be trying to sell them snail slime too.
One of our first stops was Haeundae Blueline Park... famous for its cutsie little colourful Sky Capsules that travel along an elevated railway overlooking the coastline.
Imagine little brightly coloured tram cars slowly making their way along the coast.
Now imagine the trolley from Mister Rogers' Neighbourhood.
Exactly...
Adorable, colourful, slightly old-fashioned... and completely lighthearted... and slow.
They move at what feels like approximately 5 kilometres an hour. There's nothing remotely terrifying... or thrilling about them. You just sit inside your little trolley, admire the beautiful ocean views... and slowly crawl along the track.
Next up was the Oryukdo Skywalk, which was… a little trippy. The skywalk sprawled over the ocean coast... with a glass floor, giving you an unsettling view of the sheer drop beneath your feet.
Logically... I knew that glass was thick, sturdy... and able to hold my weight. There was absolutely no reason to believe I was about to plunge to my death.
But... there is something about stepping onto a transparent floor, with nothing but a whole lot of empty space beneath me, that completely messes with my equilibrium.
It freaked me out.
I survived though... didn't fall through.
Phewf!
One of the things that makes Busan so interesting is its cultural villages. These little communities are tucked into the hillsides, with houses stacked almost on top of one another, narrow winding alleyways, quirky little cafés, and unexpected works of art popping up around every corner.
But these villages have more to them. Some of them have pretty heartbreaking beginnings. During the Korean War, refugees fleeing the conflict settled on Busan's hillsides, building little homes wherever they could find space. Over the years, some of these neighbourhoods have transformed into colourful artistic communities filled with murals, sculptures, galleries, and little shops.
Our first stop was Huinnyeoul Culture Village, a charming seaside neighbourhood with narrow, winding streets, spectacular ocean views, quirky boutiques, souvenir stalls, cafés... and endless photo opportunities.
Endless.
Now... don't get me wrong. I love taking photographs. LOVE IT. But after a while, I even start to suffer from a little photography fatigue. Sometimes I wish I had my very own personal photographer following me around... whose sole purpose was to capture those fabulous, Instagram-worthy shots of me looking all adventurous and carefree...
You know the ones. The perfectly positioned candid shots where someone is gazing thoughtfully out to sea, casually leaning against a colourful wall, or strolling down a picturesque alleyway looking as though they haven't a care in the world. Sometimes, I want those!
Obviously... of course... there's nothing candid about them. At all.
I saw that firsthand at Huinnyeoul Culture Village. So many aspiring Instagram models were posing their little hearts out. More than once, a group of us found ourselves waiting patiently while a couple of girls worked their way through what seemed like an entire modelling portfolio.
Pose. Click. Check.
Nope. Don't like that one.
Pose again. Click. Check.
Nope. Try the other side.
... and on and on and on...
Believe me, I get it. I've seen enough hideous photographs of myself to understand how important it is to find a flattering angle. But sometimes, it would be nice not to have to resort to yet another close-up, big-fat-face selfie. Unfortunately, that's one of the occupational hazards of travelling solo. No designated photographer.
I suppose that's the price you pay for travelling alone. Well... that and not being able to afford a personal photographer.
The struggle is real.
I decided an ice cream cone would be the perfect accompaniment to my seaside wandering.
And it was... for approximately a quarter of the cone. Then I happened to look down.
And there it was.
A BUG.
IN MY ICE CREAM.
I think it was a mosquito. It looked as though the little bugger had simply flown straight into my ice cream and met its unfortunate end. I stared at it... for a long time... considering my options... and promptly threw the whole thing away.
Poor me.
Honestly.
All I wanted was an ice cream.
It had been a long day.
A very long day.
Lots of driving.
Lots of getting on and off the bus.
Lots of "Please be ready!"
Plenty of opportunities to appreciate just how enormous Busan really is.
But our final stop?
Oh, our final stop was my absolute favourite.
Gamcheon Culture Village.
What a place!
Overlooking Busan, Gamcheon is another cultural village perched up on the hillside. At first glance, it looks like something out of a storybook. A jumble of pastel-coloured houses stacked one above another, with narrow pathways weaving between them.
LOVED it...
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And then there was The Little Prince...
Yes. The book. That's right.
The Little Prince... Everywhere.
Statues, murals, souvenirs, little trinkets... you name it. Gamcheon Culture Village seems a bit obsessed with this little guy. I couldn't quite figure out what a fictional French prince had to do with a colourful hillside village in South Korea.
He was French, non?
I was pretty sure he was French.
Fact check:
The Little Prince (Le Petit Prince) was written by French author and aviator Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and first published in 1943. It was published in New York, while Saint-Exupéry was living in exile during World War II.
The book has since become one of the most widely translated books in the world and is enormously popular in South Korea.
But what does any of that have to do with Gamcheon Culture Village?
Well... the connection is really sweet.
The Little Prince is a story about friendship, tolerance, curiosity, understanding others, and learning to look beyond appearances. And when you consider Gamcheon's humble beginnings as a community built by people displaced by war, the symbolism seems fitting. This neighbourhood endured hardship, struggled through difficult times, and somehow reinvented itself through art, creativity, and a little imagination. What was once a place of struggle had blossomed into something colourful, vibrant, and beautiful.
Perhaps the Little Prince belonged here after all.
The most famous statue features the Little Prince and his beloved fox sitting side by side on a wall, gazing thoughtfully over the jumble of colourful rooftops tumbling down the hillside.
It's actually quite magical.
Everyone wants a photograph with them.
And naturally...
There's an enormous line to get this photo.
Of course there is.
I could have happily spent hours wandering those narrow little alleyways.
No schedule.
No rush.
No one waving three fingers in the air, followed by another three fingers and a zero... reminding me of time constraints.
Just me... my camera (iPhone)... my imaginary photographer... and a whole lot of curiosity.
Unfortunately... though... I was on a group tour.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, the voice of a very patient woman named Sol was already whispering into my conscience...
"Please be ready!"
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