Busan (South Korea) – Seoul (South Korea)
13 July – 14 July 2025
On my last morning in Busan I
knew that I had under-stayed my visit by a couple of days. A feeling of that
nature is always bittersweet. It leaves you with a desire to return, to reminisce
for the experiences that you had, and also, for those that were lost due to the
temerity of time. The darn clock just keeps ticking and it doesn’t answer to
anyone.
Heading out from the intercity
bus station in Busan and making my way back into Seoul was as simple as you’d
want it to be. Nothing hard, deceptive or counter-intuitive, and the
connections from metro, to bus and back onto metro in Seoul were how you always
imagine transport connections to be if they were designed with efficiency and
effectiveness in mind.
Back in Seoul and I returned to
the initial neighbourhood that I stayed in just a few days before, Jongno. There’s
something nice about coming back to a place where you feel comfortable with
your surrounds, and also a something a little arrogant about watching other ‘newbies’
turning up the area and watching them struggle – like looking down on them
seems inherently normal even though you were in the same position just days
earlier.
For this Sunday afternoon I decided
that I would spend it in the ‘up and coming’ (with a bullet) hoods of Seongsu
Seongsu-dong
Seongsu-dong is one of those
neighbourhoods in Seoul where the past and present collide in the most
unexpected way. Once known mainly as the city’s shoe-making hub, its old
factories and warehouses are now being reimagined as cafés, art galleries, and
boutique shops. In another example of drawing an analogy of an iconic global
neighbourhood, Seongsu-dong has been called the ‘Brooklyn of Seoul’. Aha, here
we go again, that metaphorical comparison where a place itself bestows the
characteristics and qualities of another through repetitive and reinforced
narratives. I often wonder if doing this somehow infuses the community with the
desire to pursue the vision which is being bestowed on them, or, whether its
visitors such as myself that reinforce the vision by repeating the marketing
narrative? I anticipate, if I’m being rational, that the feedback loop from a
community perspective creates the frame by which is can aspire to be likened to
a well known place, and likewise, it’s people like me that produce that quick
mental shortcut to draw a comparison and develop a frame of reference by which
we can experience and new destination. Either way, it worked. On this
day I had the choice of exploring ‘Psy’s Gangum’, or, delving into the
‘Brooklyn of Seoul’. Having only passed through Brooklyn the single time that
I’d been to New York, I chose the latter option.
My expectations were somehow set
within the framework of a gentrified industrial space. For some reason my idea
of Brooklyn seemed to be rooted in that context. On arriving in Seongsu-dong,
that’s what I felt like I was met with. An heavily industrial canvas, an area
of gritty authenticity, with veins of creativity and commercialism running
through its construct.
On a late Sunday afternoon the
streets were buzzing with teens and twenty-somethings lining up for various
stores, occupying tables in what looked to be some very hip restaurants, or
simply cruising the streets as an indulgent pastime. Certainly, there was an
imbued energy that permeated through the neighbourhood. There was street art,
murals and installations that punctuated what must have been a very different
neighbourhood in the past. From what I discovered, the transformation came in
the early 2010’s when the young creatives of the city were drawn by the area’s
low rents, convenient transport connections and collective mindset of
creativity. And certainly, you can see that, walking its blocks, turning into
random streets and alleyways, there are stylish and chic bars that draw the
attention. It’s almost like an onion, revealing itself in all the more alluring
layers through each step that you take into its interior. Designers, artists,
and musicians have made the district their playground, filling the warehouses
with their studios, cafés, and concept stores.
I slowly drifted through Seongsu,
with no real planned destination but just kind of dragged along with the current,
happy to be led rather than target anything specifically. I found myself in
some really spectacular cafes and bars, intrigued each time by the element of
surprise and by both the audacity and creativity.
There are plenty of “Instagrammable” corners in Seoul, but
Seongsu is easily one of the most celebrated. Locals flock to its ever-changing
side streets, where traditional shoemakers still practise their craft beside
cutting-edge galleries and sleek design spaces. The result is a neighbourhood
defined by contrast, a place where the city’s industrial roots stand shoulder
to shoulder with its dynamic, creative future.
Euljiro – a neon-soaked playground of vibrant energy with
subtle dystopian undertones
Euljiro!! This is what I needed.
I loved Jogno and Ikseon-dong. Had
fun in Hongdae & Itaewon, and meandered through Myeongdong but this was it.
I discovered some truly irresistible spots that perfectly match the kind of
nightlife I crave. There’s something intoxicating about the way the narrow
streets wrap you in their own world of mystery, the subtle rush of endorphins
as you step this space that seems to have its own rules. Especially at night,
when shadows and neon collide, that feeling of being completely absorbed by the
city is exhilarating. Alleyways that reveal a hive of hip and sometimes, well
hidden bars, craft beer joints, and some great late-night eateries. This place
is cool. The atmosphere is charged and yet the area is unpolished, deliberately
shabby, with exteriors meant to disarm. Exposed pipes, concreate walls, fluorescent
lights, all reimagined as the backdrop for some really interesting nightlife
spots. There were doors and walls that I walked past a number of times before
realising the ‘secret’ only when I saw people walking through a random vending
machine into a heaving bar, or seeing the entrance to what looked to be a
decrepit tailors shop and realising that there was much, much more going on
inside.
An area of Seoul that has now
become one of this most exciting after dark playgrounds, I entered somehow by
chance and with no real expectation. But this neighbourhood off gritty
industrial charm and sometime, blinding neon
Euljiro was fantastic. In some
ways as exciting as San Telmo in Buenos Aires. Barri Gotic in Barcelona or the
Old Quarter in Hanoi. This was was ‘my Korea’, or rather, me ‘imagining my
Korea’. Without at all disparaging other areas, this was certainly my
favourite. A blend of the old and new, minimalist wine bars, retro-themed bars,
the multi-coloured glow of neon, and those intriguing undertones of how you
feel a dystopian world may present itself.
The locals call this area ‘Hipjiro’, which , a nod to its transformation into a cultural hotspot, but its appeal lies in the fact that it hasn’t lost its gritty, working-class roots. Far less polished than Gangnam and less tourist-driven than Hongdae, its nightlife is as much about exploration as it is about drinking, half the fun is weaving through the labyrinth of alleys to see what hidden gem you’ll find next. For me, this area was truly Seouls’ major drawcard and an unforgettable. If and when Seoul has me back, Euljiro will be No.1 on the list as to why I’ll be returning.
In fact, I did return to Eurljiro
the next evening after making my way down to Itaewon for a magical plate of Dak-galbi,
which as I’ve mentioned earlier, is a masterful dish of marinated chicken stir-fried with vegetables in the magical ‘sauce’ or
chilli paste, gochujang. The version I had was topped off with cheese
and it was absolutely my favourite dish during my time in Korea.
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