I like it in the city when two worlds collide

I’d been planning a Busan trip early this year, looking up accommodations with private pools and walking-distance access to beaches. I could sightsee a little and make sure I always had a great meal, but it was going to be a staycation above anything else. Maybe I could even write a little. 

Plans changed when my cousin decided to join me on this trip, and I chose Seoul (yes, again) instead so there would be way more places to check out since it was going to be her first time. 

May 27

We got in at 6 a.m. from a red-eye and couldn’t check in until 10 a.m., so we headed over to Yeouido Hangang Park. We sat at one of the tables outside the CU on the river cruise dock, which became another instant secret spot for me that I’ll be seeking out whenever I’m in the city. It’s cheap and quiet—in the morning, at least—and it brings you so close to the water. 

After settling at the hotel we set out for Anguk Station. Dotori Garden has been on my list for quite some time, but it was out of the way and not very accessible by train so I always put it off. I don’t know why I never noticed that they’ve had an Anguk branch all along, but I finally clued in and made sure it was the first place I went. 

On the way I got a Handmade Coke from this trendy cafe called Onion, which also had a lot of baked goods on display that looked delicious. The drink was light and super refreshing, made with coffee along with certain fruits, flavoring, and spices, and did taste very much like a better cola. I’m kind of craving it right now just typing this. 

I got some squirrel-shaped cookies, a cream cheese canelé, and of course a chocolate acorn madeleine. It was so soft and dense and rich. 

The whole place was absolutely charming. All of the customers were out in the garden, but there was this room just off the entryway that was empty but perfectly cold. Summer was already pretty much in full force in Seoul and I was happy to have my little treats while I got to cool off. We had to leave a little too soon for my liking, but when I’m back on a solo trip I’d love to just spend a whole afternoon here. 

We walked around Bukchon, stopping by an open house at the Traditional Culture Center. There were so many little shops run by artists and artisans, and I got a whole handful of art prints at this cool illustrator space. 

First-day eats: Bonjuk & Bibimbap Cafe’s jangjorim butter bibimbap, which is soy-braised beef with an insane, deep explosion of buttery flavor. A mini four-cheese “Chicago pizza” from 7-Eleven that was very good. And dinner at Sushiro, where my favorites were the salt and lemon salmon nigiri and the special unagi nigiri. We also tried the excellent mandu from downstairs. 

May 28 

We had lunch at Rolling Pasta, and I ordered the steak cream pasta. Just very nice, very decadent cozy coddle-y comfort food.

I was excited to go to the postcard store in Seongbuk, and even better, the fountain plaza was right by the subway station. We saw ducks and even a beautiful grey heron along the stream. I once again had to wonder what it would do for my mental health if I lived in a city with this much access to public parks and bodies of water and, like, just nice places to go for a walk and sit outside. 

But that wasn’t even the best part of this neighborhood. That would be Chaekbonyang, the cat bookstore a ten-minute walk away. It’s on a pretty steep slope, with a wooden gate that creaks open to signal your arrival. There are sweet little knick-knacks everywhere. You’re welcomed by the kind shopkeeper, who asks you to take your shoes off before you enter—and by the two resident cats. 

Haro, who has an adorable one-sided overbite.

And Hadong. 

I just know the book selection must be great and I would’ve loved to buy some, but there didn’t seem to be any English editions available. I bought a few souvenir cards instead with really cute art. 

I went off on my own so I could rest before going to the CGV across the street to watch Backrooms (it was so interesting to note some of the translation choices from the subtitles I could read and understand). We met back up later to have gelato for dessert. I got Fanta chocolate chip, which seemed to be vanilla with chocolate-covered bits of grape Fanta but kind of chewy but also crunchy and raisin-y? It was fine.

May 29

I noticed immediately that the Lotteria near the hotel, which is a major part of the reason I even stay there, was closed. I thought it was gone forever, but it was only being renovated and set to reopen in July. But still: that meant no quick saunters to simple, fuss-free cheeseburger bliss.

I had to go all the way to one station over for my fix. I ordered the burnt beef burger: squid-ink bun that looks like Rey’s portion bread (ugh just making a sequel trilogy reference makes me want to scrunch my nose up), cheese, bacon, caramelized onions, and brown butter oil. It was good, but I still like the classic cheeseburger better. 

I met up with Ate Inah in Gangnam at the Platform-L Art Center to see the Haruki Murakami exhibit. 

It was a very full, dynamic experience. They had us moving across rooms, crossing the terrace overlooking the open area, and climbing to the next floor. Whenever you think it might be over, you’ll be informed that the exhibit continues here, and now here, and now the basement, and now the other basement that wasn’t even accessible from the previous elevator. 

It featured art pieces by Korean artists inspired by his work, sections about how he lives (how he writes, his favorite meals, his affinity for cats, the places associated with him), and drawings by his late friend and collaborator Mizumaru Anzai. 

The centerpiece was easily this walk-on glass shelf full of books by and related to Murakami in lamp form. 

This section at the very basement was an interpretation of a jazz bar, with visual projections on the screen and curated music playing. Guests are invited to sit on the floor, including some bean bags, presumably able to stay until it was time to close. It reminded me of one of my favorite places that I came to collect when I was depressed and freelancing, a now-gone art gallery in Karrivin with a small theater that would play films and videos related to the current exhibition. 

We had dinner at Rentei, a quaint little izakaya-style joint specializing in udon. 

We sat at the counter and I ordered the tobiko cream udon. Cream-based noodle dishes with white onion  remain superior. 

May 30

Mint Choco World is another Seoul favorite that I’ve been putting off since it’s not as easy to get to and I was letting my social anxiety get to me. But today I finally bit the bullet. 

Half my motivation for going was getting to see all kinds of minty desserts they’ve thought up.

Ultimately I got a chocolate latte with mint soft-serve, an eclair, a dark chocolate cookie with the perfect hint of mint, and a mint chocolate Dubai chewy cookie. I’ve been a mint chip girl since I was little, so I loved everything. They’ve perfected mint chocolate like an art—none of it was cloying and it was always the right amount of sweet. 

The girl at the counter was very friendly and I just had such a nice time. It wasn’t too crowded, but I loved getting to watch couples and pairs of friends come in and enjoy their treats while wholesome pop of decades past (“I Just Called to Say I Love You”) played over the speakers.

Mint Choco World is in the Mapo neighborhood of Yeonnam, which I found trendy artsy and brunch-y. So many intriguing cafes and places to eat. On a Saturday afternoon there weren’t very many cars on the street, and the center of it is lined with trees. I’m definitely coming back.

I took a cab to the Olive Young across the street from my hotel to get something for a friend. On the way I was really craving a pizza, wanting to relive the four-cheese from 7-Eleven. And a short walk from Olive Young was this little kiosk selling takeout boxes of square pizza slices out of a window! I got the cheese and the garlic cream with potato fries (it was So Much in the best zaniest way and so soft to the bite). 

Ate Inah had also gotten me garlic bread with light, airy cream cheese from Garlic Boy at Gwangjang Market, and it was a dream. 

At around 8 p.m. I had this last-minute impulse to see the Han River at night, so I went ahead and did just that. The park was full of people holding picnics, but I walked past them all until I was at the edge of the dock. There were people on neon-lit jet skis splashing each other and doing tricks while the people beside me cheered them on. 

I put in my earphones and listened to “Safety Zone” (naturally), and then Adele’s “Hometown Glory.” The moment very much felt like the verse after the first chorus come to life—but also like the scene just before the song plays on Skins, when Cassie tries to belong on a night out by a river in a city very far from home. 

I met up with Ate Inah at around 10 so we could go for Korean BBQ. They had great mandu and mini burger patties, and of course the samgyeopsal and the beef paired with rice was phenomenal. I don’t think I’ve gone for K-BBQ in Manila in years, but I want to go again one of these days. 

I got too full too soon as I often do, but I couldn’t think of a better way to end our Seoul trip. 

Sometimes it’s hard out here in the deep end: Pictures I took walking in Osaka

 My body’s different in Osaka than it is in Seoul.

Maybe it’s something about the Dotonbori River and the other rivers in the city, along with Osaka Bay, that makes it feel so much colder. In Seoul I could wear a sweater with my breath coming out in puffs of white in zero degrees and I would be cozy. But six to ten degrees in Osaka and I fold, slipping wool gloves onto delicate fingers and finally putting my hot packs to use. 

Two things became the driving force of this trip: I needed to get away, and I wanted to wear my Human Hope knockoff sweaters. Preferably somewhere cold enough, before all the spring tourists. And I was starting to miss this city a little too much. 

The first thing I did when I arrived was to walk the couple blocks that would lead me to the Dotonbori Bridge. I looked out over the view, and there was this sense of, What now? 

I came to find a lot of solace in the looser, as-you-go style of travel I tried in November—letting go of the pressure and staying comfortable didn’t have to mean sacrificing new experiences and discoveries. They could go hand in hand. People say there’s not a lot to do in Osaka, but the way I saw it, this only made it perfect for this kind of meandering. 

I made a map of places I specifically wanted to stop by just so I could take pictures of the ridiculously fun larger-than-life shop signs around the river. I ended up not needing to consult it at all—most of them were side by side, literally jumping out at you as you passed. The best part was finding a number of them that I hadn’t even heard of. 

They remind me of how it felt when I first came here and what it was like to come across one of them when I had no prior knowledge or expectations. Crossing what I thought was an ordinary side street, only to find a bright red giant crab claw sticking out of an otherwise unassuming storefront. It’s still one of my favorite photos I’ve ever taken. 

I didn’t bring my Canon G9X on any of the trips I took last year, thinking it would weigh me down when my phone was good enough for documentation. Now that I was intent on going slower and really capturing what I saw and experienced, I made sure to have it on me all the time. 

It’s not a Ricoh GR or any of the other viral cameras, but I’m still so in love with it and think it takes stunning shots and makes such a huge difference. 

I made a playlist before I left, with the theme of depression walking alone at night in a city where the closest person who might care about me is thousands of miles away. I put it on while waiting for the light to turn green at the first crosswalk, and of course it starts off with j-hope’s “Safety Zone.”  

I didn’t cry in public (and we all know I’m the last person who would ever care if I did), but I almost wanted to, you know? For the catharsis of it all. I just stopped by the riverfront and took it all in with a rattle in my chest as the music drowned everything out. Waiting for that sense of healing, and welcoming it when it settled over me. 

It’s only my first night, and it’s a feeling I would chase through the rest of my days here. 

For the last few years, whenever I thought about returning to Osaka, I would think to myself that I could spend my entire stay just discovering everything Dotonbori had to offer. It was this hyperbolic notion, because surely it would be a waste of having flown all this way and I’d grow bored of it. 

But it was proving too cold to go on day trips or Make the Most of It. The point of this trip was to relax and float along, so I gave myself permission to do just that. My hotel offered access to all of these areas and neighborhoods that I never even knew were so close until I was in them. Shinsaibashi and Namba were a given, but Amerikamura was right there, and so was Minamihorie—an instant favorite of mine that won me over not with its endless row of vintage stores, but with its unique architecture, quaint parks, and arts and culture spots.

Just the surrounding streets were full of scenery and moments that I desperately wanted to remember as I saw them, like this little okonomiyaki place that I’ve always found so fascinating to look at. 

I spent my last two days perfectly happy walking my little walks, exploring on foot and thoroughly inspecting the shelves in every konbini. Like I had all the time in the world, like every day could look like this, like I could get used to it. Getting to know it like it was mine. 

There’s something about depression walking on the Dotonbori bridge that everyone knows. My initial impression of Ebisu Bridge—impossible to cross on a Halloween marked by tragedy in another city—had left me with dread, but I’ve come to find a strange comfort in routinely finding myself, well, by myself in a sea of people and movement and chaos and noise. Couples holding hands, friends spending time, families making memories, and me. 

Dwarfed by the billboards and the bright lights, which I’ve only recently learned have been there since 1935. Looking up to admire them and bask in their presence instead of keeping my head down staring at my feet. 

And then there’s depression walking on the other side of the street, on the Dotonbori bridge that no one takes except to get someplace, where it’s just me and the quiet and the river in the faintly glittering dark.

Nobody stops on Shinebisu Bridge. In the morning it’s a silent witness to how the day unfolds; the shops and restaurants won’t open until later. At night it becomes a safe passage as tourists wind down or stumble around in search of one last thing to do, because this is Dotonbori and there’s always something to do. 

I’m the only one who ever seems to slow down, who pretends to check for messages that are never there just so I could pause and look out into the water that no longer ripples because it’s late and the boats have stopped cruising. 

The first time I crossed it, I thought: How come no one ever talks about this? Because no one ever comes here, and there’s nothing to see but a large body of water. But that’s exactly what I love about it. It becomes something I consider a secret, something only for my own. And as always, I feel like I never stay and look long enough.

Osaka makes me feel like I’m part of something.

Encountering people who make me believe in kindness, in wonder, in the importance of wanting and happiness. Tourist traps that remind me not to take myself too seriously. Equal parts kitsch and genuine beauty that will always make it worth it to stop and point and shoot. Streets paved evenly enough to support me on my feet. Rivers deep enough to drown out my grief. 

Osaka makes me feel like myself. 

I took this with my phone on my last full day, but I think it might be my favorite from this trip. Another thing I learned recently is that the giant crab on the sign of the Kani Doraku flagship branch has been around since at least the ‘50s. 

I went back so I could take this before I grabbed dinner, because I was curious about what it would look like. 

I don’t think I’ve ever had this certainty where I knew I wouldn’t be back someplace for the foreseeable future. But that’s exactly what I was thinking about as I walked to the middle of the Dotonbori Bridge on that final night. I had seen everything there was to see, for now at least. It was time to say goodbye for a while, and I’ve never been good at goodbyes. 

I started to walk away, but the light at the crosswalk was red and I could still feel the everlasting glow of it right behind me. So I stopped, and I turned back for one last look. For real this time. 

But as always, of course, I was left feeling like I didn’t stay and look long enough.

All the traces and reminiscences

I take back what I said about disposable cameras while traveling. The plastic waste made my eye twitch, and I realized I could just spend P200 on a new Aquapix that I wouldn’t mind scratching up. Smaller, cuter, more film options. The one I got is lime green (or Neo Pearl Champagne), which coincidentally was the color of the first Aquapix I ever owned. 

When I went to Seoul I loaded it with Lomography LomoChrome ’92, which captured the autumn of it all pretty well. The shot above is my favorite, taken at Yeouido Hangang Park. The original composition was perfect, but I had to crop it because part of my finger was in frame. Still obsessed. 

The picture on the left was taken last February when I first went to Seoul. I found myself in the same area from the other side and unwittingly took a bookender in November. 

This little pizza nook was so cute and I wanted to step inside, but I’d already booked a ride back to my hotel. 

I’m just absolutely in love with the street that greets you from Anguk Station and the many possibilities it holds. 

Of course I had to make a diptych of both shots I took before exiting certain subway stations. I want to make it a whole series as I keep traveling to Seoul. 

These don’t have the pops of red from the floor and ceiling that the photos I took on my phone do, but I like how they have a more glitch-y feel. 

I loved walking past the row of shops outside my hotel as I made my way to the subway. There’s a flower shop, a bakery, this fruit stand, and a place that had steaming dumplings right on the street, so I’d catch their delicious scent and warmth every time I passed. 

This didn’t turn out as well but I liked the composition and it would be so fun to draw.  

More subway stairs. I like how this one has a bit more to see of the street beyond.

Flowers at a bus stop in the middle of the road as the day winds down.

I heard that it’s hard to cry with the sunlight in your eyes

I know: Seoul again? My autumn/birthday plans had been to come back to Osaka, but work really ramped up after June and by October I was a molotov cocktail of burnout, anxiety, and depression, and I didn’t really have the energy for the plans I’d been making. I just wanted to go somewhere cold and wear my sweaters and the super cute gilet I got on sale at Mango, and I already kind of knew my way around the city, so Seoul it was. I really went from telling friends that I didn’t really see myself going there to visiting three times in one year. 

November 10 

My first order of business was heading over to Kim’s Deli Market so I could try their adorable tomato bagel with cream cheese and pesto. It’s made with rice flour, which definitely explains this springiness and chew to it that I really liked. The color of the bagel comes from real tomatoes, and the tomato flavor shines through and complements the filling.

I hadn’t been planning on staying to eat, but it was early enough and I liked the idea of spending some of my day in the quaint little shop. I also ordered a fizzy mixed berry drink, as well as a chocolate conch bread to go. I had some of the conch for dessert that night, and finished it off for breakfast the next morning. The sweetness was deep and dark, and I liked the play on textures with the soft bread, smooth cream, and chunky chocolate piece inside.

I had trouble locating Your Mind at first. It was in a quiet neighborhood, on the second floor of a gated building with all these indie lifestyle shops, and there was a huge yard full of fallen autumn leaves. I have to admit that stepping through the gate reminded me of the houses in K-dramas. 

A major point of this trip was to collect zines and prints by local artists, and this was the shop that stood out to me the most when I was doing my research. 

I often wish I were better versed in Korean, especially when I read about j-hope lyrics, but on this trip I  felt particularly regretful that I couldn’t buy all these beautiful books because I couldn’t have understood them. 

I set a budget for this trip, but it felt good to just gather all this printed matter in my arms and pick up whatever I wanted without looking at the price tag. I finally got some TABACOBOOKS stuff, and the bookmarks I got were so sweet and cute. There was also a wall of artists’ calling cards for ₩500, and of course I was happy to find one by LEEGOC. My favorite out of this haul is Heeda Garden’s Sleeping Gypsy, a gorgeous and whimsical book of sketches, photos, and collages from trips to different cities. 

I passed a streetside samgyeopsal cart on my way to pick up dinner, and I didn’t get any, but I savored the smell of it and wanted to remember that. 

Before I went to bed I got in the tub with a bottle of Soak’s bubblegum bubble bath in warm water, and I put on “Salt” by Rainsford, which is kind of about having a bath while you’re lonely and heartbroken, but not really. 

November 11

I think the Mango straight pants I got myself last Christmas cut such a pleasant silhouette with my sweaters and the oversize sling I bought so I could stuff the art prints I was supposed to hoard at Nuunu in Kyoto into it. (Never say never—I’m kind of already planning to go ahead with the Osaka trip next May.) Olive green is truly my color of the moment. 

I went back to Anguk Station so I could buy more art prints at Object, but this branch was being renovated, so I drowned my sorrows in apple iced tea and banana split Dippin’ Dots at the 7-Eleven next door. I’d been looking in the freezers for the packaged kind and was delighted to find that they were being served scooped into cups at the counter. 

This is my favorite shot out of this entire trip, I think, and it makes me want to kick myself again that I decided to leave my Canon G9X at home. 

I’d let go of my Telfar eggplant dreams a long time ago, but I chanced upon this Fennec bag online and fell in love with it. I’d been planning to buy it when I got home, but I decided to hunt for it at the Lotte Department Store since, hello, I was already in Seoul anyway. I ended up getting it with a great discount thanks to the Black Friday sale and the tax deduction. 

The department store was in a very commercial part of the city. I could have crossed the street and explored more of Myeongdong, but I don’t think I was ready for that quite yet. It reminded me of the city center in Kuala Lumpur, and there were all these Christmas lights and decorations at the entrance with seasonal music blaring, so it opened up this whole can of emotional worms that I needed to get away from but also wanted to wrap myself in. 

I decided to take a bus—but I got on the wrong one, so I got off as soon as I saw a Lotteria and got a late lunch while I figured out my next move. 

I’d also bookmarked Storage Book & Film on Naver Maps when I was looking for places to get zines, but I didn’t prioritize it since it seemed difficult to get to. But when I went to check the map to see how I could get back to my hotel, the little yellow star marking its location was right next to where I was. So I figured I might as well go. 

The bus that passes right by it was small and green, and there was a stop right in front of the Lotteria. I tried to ride it, but it was late afternoon and each one was full. I booked a ride instead, and then I discovered that my initial plan of walking to the bookstore from the nearest train station was never going to be the right choice: it was on a very steep hill. 

Still, I’d made it, and it was well worth the detour. I got another bunch of travel zines and some bookmarks and postcards, including one for Storage itself. The checkout counter was behind a curtain, so I couldn’t immediately see who was ringing me up. They had short hair, so I assumed it was a man. But when they handed me my card back along with my paper bag, they finally looked up, and I came eye to eye with the most beautiful, soft spoken butch I’d ever seen in my pathetic gay life. I had never witnessed features this distinct and delicate in all my days. A face you could never forget, but if I’m being honest, I’m not really able to picture it clearly anymore in my mind—but I like the romance of keeping it in that moment and only then.

(But of course I’ve already scrolled down the bookstore’s Instagram feed and tags in case I could find her in the periphery of even a single photo.) 

I walked downhill until I reached a bridal shop with a pride flag and the Palestine flag in the window, which made me so happy. I booked a ride from there and just watched the skies darken out the window. For dinner I got toowoomba pasta from the GS25 around the corner. 

November 12

At noon I was set to watch a screening of Hope on the Stage The Movie, and all I had to do was literally cross the street to the CGV near my hotel. I still find it so amusing how convenient this ended up being for me, and I got my ticket through an automated kiosk.

There were only two of us in the theater. When it was over and we were waiting for the elevator back down to the lobby, she turned to me and said hello, and she knew enough English that we were able to make small talk about the movie and where I was from and what I was doing in the city. I found her really nice and she helped me through the process of claiming the really cute commemorative ticket, which was most of the reason I even made time to see the movie in Seoul. (I already had plans to see it back home.) I think we both wanted to talk more, but she was pretty shy and so was I, and we never even got each other’s names. It’s a memory and interaction I treasure anyway. 

Next time I would love to catch a rare movie that I wouldn’t have gotten to watch elsewhere, but unfortunately they don’t provide subtitles for titles that are local to them. 

Since February I’ve been trying to find the most convenient and walkable way to be by the Han River, and so far it’s been Yeouido Hangang Park, which is right by Yeouinaru Station and also has a Hangang Bus dock. I didn’t have time to go on a boat ride, but it was enough for me to sit on a bench and admire the river while I listened to my current heavy rotation playlist. (“unlearning you” by Crying City is at the top.) 

When I’m back I’ll be taking the water bus, and maybe braving a stop at Euljidarak so I can try their bolognese with a pretty scoop of whipped cream. 

I did take the bus after, though. The right route, this time, a 40-minute ride back to my hotel. I got to take a seat early and admire views of the city I hadn’t gotten a chance to glimpse since I was always on the subway. It was a late Wednesday afternoon, the sun starting to dip, casting a poignant glow over the buildings and storefronts we passed. 

I turned out all the lights in my hotel room and watched the walls grow darker. I went to get dinner later, a warm bowl of tuna mayo and egg rice with extra umami from nori strips. It was a short walk from my hotel but the brightness of the lights against the night sky and the perfect temperature made me wistful. It was 8 p.m. and I had to be up by 3 a.m. to make it to my flight at seven, but I felt a pull—a yearning—to explore one last time. 

I finished my dinner and went back down so I could take a walk. It was the rightest amount of cold I’d experienced out of the entire trip, feeling like the autumn chill was just dusting my cheeks, little kisses of it here and there. I walked aimlessly down the side street behind the building with the CGV. It’s right by a university, so there were a lot of places open late and students milling about and dragging each other to neon-lit arcades and busy coffee shops. 

I stayed out for an hour, and then I crossed the street back to the hotel. I’d left the window open so I could be welcomed by the flicker of streetlights. I kept the curtains drawn apart while I finished packing, and it wasn’t long before I had to say goodbye to the view, too. 

At the airport I sat at the Hwangsaengga Kalguksu close to my gate. I ordered what I thought was going to be a quick snack of mandu, but the dumplings were massive. They were very good.  

On this trip I made a list of places I wanted to visit, but it was mostly unplanned. I made sure not to let the pressure of “making the most of it” hang over my head, and I just went with whatever I felt like doing. It was never going to be a montage of those “Seoul’s best-kept secrets” I’d been bookmarking—and it still made me happy and healed me regardless. 

I’ve been learning lately that for now, I’m kind of an escapist when I travel. I established long ago that I’ll never be a traveler or vagabond, more of a city-dwelling vacationer, but where my heart is at these days is really just getting out of my head, getting on a train, seeing what I can do and where I can go to let go and have fun for a little while. And for me, that’s not always found in bucket lists and best-ofs. 

More than anything, it’s just about having a nice day.