Hello Hanguk

  I didn't expect to find decent surf in Korea—I thought the coasts were mostly rocky or industrial, and that the waves would be small and unpredictable. But after a friend dragged me to Yangyang one August weekend, I realized I'd been completely wrong. The waves weren't Hawaii-sized, but they were real, consistent, and welcoming enough for someone like me who'd only surfed a handful of times before. What caught me off guard wasn't the surf itself, but all the small things nobody tells you upfront: which wetsuit thickness actually works in Korean water, why rental boards are harder to control than you think, and the unspoken beach etiquette that locals follow but visitors often miss. Korea's surf scene has grown quickly over the past decade, particularly on the east coast where beaches like Yangyang, Sokcho, and Busan's Songjeong draw both beginners and more experienced surfers. The season runs longer than you'd expect, the rental infrastructu...

  I started running along the Han River on a whim one Saturday morning, mostly because a friend said the path was "surprisingly well-maintained." What I didn't expect was how much I'd need to know about where the water fountains actually work, which stretches feel safe after dark, and—more urgently—where the nearest bathroom is when you're three kilometers from your starting point. The river parks look endless on a map, but once you're out there with the wind coming off the water and the bridges stretching overhead, you realize the small details matter more than the scenic views. Seoul's Han River paths have become one of the city's most popular running routes, and for good reason. The paths are mostly flat, the air feels less heavy than the streets behind the apartment blocks, and you can run for hours without hitting a single stoplight. But the experience changes depending on where you start, what time you go, and what you're expecting...

  Last winter, I decided I needed to move more—not in a gym-with-mirrors kind of way, but something that felt less like exercise and more like actually doing something. A friend mentioned her Saturday badminton group, and I thought: how hard could it be to find a court and join? Turns out, the process is simpler than I expected, but only once you understand how the system works in Korea. Whether you're looking to play casually on weekends or join a regular club, badminton and table tennis offer accessible ways to stay active without needing a full team or expensive gear. The challenge isn't the sport itself—it's figuring out where to play, how to reserve a spot, and what the unwritten rules are. This guide walks through the practical steps: finding clubs, booking public courts, navigating Korea's online reservation systems, and understanding what to expect when you show up for the first time. Table of Contents Why These Two Sports Work in K...

  I remember walking past a climbing gym in Seoul's Hongdae neighborhood one winter evening and seeing the walls lit up through the windows—bright holds in every color, people halfway up routes that looked impossible. I'd been curious about climbing for months but had no idea where to start. Do you just walk in? Do you need your own shoes? And how do you even ask for help in Korean when you don't know the vocabulary? Korea's climbing scene has grown fast over the past few years, especially after climbing became an Olympic sport. You'll find gyms everywhere now—from massive facilities in Gangnam to cozy neighborhood spots tucked into basements near university districts. What surprised me most was how beginner-friendly most places are, even if your Korean is limited. This guide covers what you actually need to know: how day passes work, what gear you'll need (and what you can skip at first), and the handful of Korean terms that will make your first...

  Last winter, I walked past a basement storefront in Seoul at 11 PM and noticed a group of friends laughing inside, swinging golf clubs in what looked like a small room with a giant screen. No grass, no cold wind—just them, a projector, and what seemed like a full golf course somehow compressed into a space smaller than my studio apartment. That was my introduction to screen golf, or what Koreans call "스크린골프" (screen golf-peu). It's indoor golf simulation played year-round, often late into the night, and it's become one of the most popular social activities in Korea. If you've ever been curious about trying golf but felt intimidated by the cost, the dress codes, or the six-hour time commitment, screen golf might be exactly what you're looking for. This guide walks through how screen golf actually works, what to expect on your first visit, and why this particular version of the sport has taken root in Korea in a way that feels almost cultural....