So, I just got back from Seoul, and wow, it's like this city has its own pulse that you can almost feel beating through the subway stops and street vendors. Seriously, if you ever find yourself wondering about the best things to do in Seoul, just trust me—let it guide you. I'm not saying it's romance and fireworks, but boy, does it hold surprises around every corner.
This spot? Total surprise.
Okay, picture this: my first day there, and I'm all geared up to hit the usual tourist spots. I mean, you have to go see Gyeongbokgung Palace, right? I was just getting into the whole mix of ancient architecture surrounded by the towering modern vibes of the city when I got swept up in the crowds. And honestly, the royal guard ceremony is kind of cool—but then everyone started pushing toward this little alley.
Y'all, I didn't know why I followed. Maybe it was the tiny shop emitting the most delicious smells that made me walk straight into a food lover's dream. There was this little hole-in-the-wall pho place. I don't even know how I knew it was good. Maybe it was intuition? Anyway, I just went in and ordered whatever the sweet lady behind the counter suggested.
And oh my god, that broth! I mean, I've had pho back home, but this was on another level. It was like the universe was screaming at me, “This is your first meal in Seoul!”
Totally unexpected and made my heart do a little dance. Seat-of-the-pants traveling? Yes, please!
The afternoon that changed my whole mood
Anyway, I had this whole plan after that—something about ‘must-see' cafes and Instagram spots. But I was exhausted. I ended up accidentally wandering into the Bukchon Hanok Village, which I thought was just a usual tourist trap. After a bit of initial hesitance—I was seriously imagining just another crowded street filled with selfie sticks—I found myself surrounded by traditional hanoks.
There's this uncanny peace that hits you right when you step into the little courtyards. The way those wooden houses stood around this lush green… it made me feel like I'd somehow traveled back in time. I plopped down on a bench, my legs a bit wobbly from walking, and just sat there watching this old man painting. He had a rhythm to his brush strokes, as if he were dancing with the wind.
I started to forget about my “to-do” lists. It was kind of like the universe was nudging me to slow down and just be. For a second, all that pressure to see, do, and capture slipped away.
I almost missed this, no thanks to my bad sense of direction
You want to hear about my ridiculous moments? So, yeah, I was trying to go to Dongdaemun Design Plaza, right? I wanted to see all the futuristic architecture and quirky exhibitions or whatever. Instead, I ended up at this underground market. No kidding, I tried to use Google Maps, and my directional skills are notoriously awful, but it's like I was on a mission to find the wrong place every single time.
I was about to turn back, ready to sulk about my plan gone awry, when I stumbled upon this stall selling the most amazing street food: tteokbokki. I'm not even kidding, my mouth is watering just thinking about it. The sticky, spicy rice cakes drenched in this sweet, spicy sauce? Yeah, it was as good as it sounds.
I sat on a curb looking like the messiest tourist ever with sauce all over my hands, and it hit me—this experience was so much cooler than seeing a pretty building. It was the spontaneity, the locals smiling and chatting, and just feeling like I was actually part of the city, even if just for those five minutes.
It felt like a little secret treasure tucked away from the main attractions. Life has this funny way of making you find joy in the unplanned.
A meal I’ll never forget
And oh, can we talk about eating at a restaurant called Gwangjang Market? I keep raving about food, but come on—when you find a spot that specializes in bindaetteok (mung bean pancakes) and all the side dishes that come along with it, you know you're in for a treat.
So, I wobbled my way into this bustling, cramped place, and it felt like I'd honestly walked into a culinary miracle. People were chatting, clinking glasses, and this staff member—not even a minute after I sat down—slid a plate in front of me with the hottest bindaetteok, fresh out of the pan. I still remember biting into it, how the crispy exterior contrasted with the soft insides—it was pure magic.
Funny enough, I ended up sitting next to this sweet couple who didn't speak much English but shared a smile and a couple of bites with me. They kept trying to teach me Korean, and I laughed way more than I should have (probably at my terrible pronunciation). But those little moments really make travel for me, the genuine connection amidst chaotic flavors and smells.
A tiny detour, a big lesson
The journey back to my accommodation wasn't smooth sailing either. I missed my bus stop despite my best efforts—yes, I hopelessly tried to look local, failed, and ended up wandering around in circles in some random neighborhood. But instead of panicking or getting frustrated, I just embraced it.
I remember sitting on a step outside a convenience store nursing a bottle of water, when a couple of teenage girls noticed me fumbling with my phone. They came over, giggled, and offered to help. I may have stumbled through a couple of awkward words, but they quickly pulled out their phones and guided me back to my spot, stopping occasionally to give me tips about what to try in the area.
It's funny, you don't plan for moments like that, and yet they become the threads that weave together your whole experience in the city.
I guess that's what made me fall in love with Seoul. It's not just about ticking off the best things to do in Seoul; it's about the moments that catch you off guard—the spontaneous meals, the detours, and the encounters that make you feel at home in a land so far away.
So now, as I sip my last bit of coffee, I think about how it's all the small things—every misstep and surprise—that make travel so beautifully chaotic. There's something about that energy that just sticks with you, doesn't it?
