This is a Busan Ex-Pat City Guide post. Check out the rest of my list here.
What kind of person do you become when you’re left alone?
Personally, I become the “neurotic planner”. Such was the case during the June long weekend. I sat, latently anxious for no reason, waiting for Steph and Katie to return from their dinner. During this time, I clipped my toenails way too short, bookmarked all of the “best of Jeju” blog posts, and ate too many yogourt cups. I also decided, on a whim, that I would travel to Busan’s most remote beach – Dadaepo – the following day. I had gotten it into my head that if I didn’t travel to Dadaepo Beach the next day, that I wouldn’t have enough weekends to complete the remaining items on my Korean Bucket List. Steph and Katie eventually came to retrieve me from the #darkness (read: my apartment), shortly before my neuroses led me down the rabbit hole of planning my trip to Thailand – a whole 8 weeks away at that point.
While the majority of our group were either exhausted from our weekend of travelling to Bijindo, or had alternate plans, Steph graciously offered to join me on the hour and a half long excursion to Busan’s southwest coast. This trip was no joke: 40 minutes on the Busan Subway’s Green Line, another 40 minutes on the Red Line, and finally a 30 minute bus ride that dropped us off approximately 10 minutes from Dadaepo Beach and the Dadaepo Sunset Fountain of Dreams. There were no other passengers on the subway by the time we reached the last stop on the Red Line (Sinpyeong), and while the bus we boarded was nearly full, the surrounding neighbourhood told a far more subdued story than Haeundae and Jangsan.
I fell in love* with Dadaepo before I even set foot on its sandy beach. This is mostly because on our way to down to the water, Steph and I discovered a ramshackle arcade housing a batting cage, a small, carnival-style punching bag, and most importantly, a rickety, old trampoline that lay, unused, feet from Dadaepo’s traffic-laden thoroughfare. As I looked around in blissful confusion, wondering whom to inquire to or to pay for the use of the dilapidated old thing, Steph was already removing her shoes. “Don’t ask permission, ask forgiveness!” she chortled. I shrugged and joined her, bounding up and down on the shaky structure for what felt like hours. Below, foreigners and locals alike passed by, observing our mirth with a mixture of puzzlement and delight. Oddly, no one ever stopped to join us or inquire about using the trampoline. Even on our way back home, the arcade was a ghost town despite the busy crowds from the Sunset Fountain of Dreams. I wanted to shout into the great abyss, “hello, people! It’s a trampoline? Have you never had fun before?” Alas, it just meant more bouncing for me.
Despite Dadaepo’s isolation and distance from Busan’s bustling downtown sector, the beach itself was spectacular, stretching along the coast for as far as the eye could see. Steph jokingly quipped about the beach’s set-up: “On your left, cottage country. On your right, eternity!” The left side of the beach had a tiny inlet of waist-deep water, perfect for small children to wade out into and build sand castles along. The quiet Nakdong River cuts across a quiet park separating the parking lot and the beach, and trickles down into the sea. Steph and I removed our flip-flops to cross a series of stepping stones to reach the eastern side of the beach which was filled with dozens of tiny offices and sheds filled with water sports equipment. Here, fit, young males carried their paddle boards high overhead down to the beach while wiser men stood precariously on jagged rocks, casting out lines in the hopes of an afternoon fish or two.
Steph and I followed the wooden boardwalk around Dadaepo’s winding coast. We gingerly tiptoed across the rock sand beach. We freaked out about the wildlife (particularly the insects) indigenous to Dadaepo, as they scurried out from under the rocks onto the main trail. We admired the jutting rock formations emerging from the sea. We spent a lot of time people-watching: scenes of older brothers challenging their younger brothers to rock-skipping contests, foursomes enjoying a sunset picnic of gimbap and soju by the water, and ajummas stretching their legs after traversing the coastal walk. We talked and talked and talked about the future, almost as if we needed to say it all before the sun disappeared from the sky. The mood was super relaxing, and we both acknowledged how happy we were to have made it to Dadaepo.
We started back to the beach to catch the sun before it disappeared into the foggy horizon. However, the sand was so ridiculously soft that we all but ignored the setting sun in favour of a little handstand practice. After a little derping around, peppered with some more chats about our hopes, dreams, and aspirations for the future, we headed towards the Nakdong River, our sights set upon the Sunset Fountain of Dreams.
I would not have surmised how what a popular destination that the Sunset Fountain of Dreams was earlier in the afternoon, based on what a ghost town Dadaepo seemed to be, but soon enough, hordes of locals and tourists alike streamed into the rather unsuspecting fountain square. There were more than a dozen workers setting up rows of chairs for the show, and soon, there wasn’t an empty seat in the house. Based on blogs that I had read about the neighbourhood, Dadaepo used to be even more remote than it currently is. However, with the establishment of the fountain, the neighbourhood was quickly launched into gentrification to accommodate its newfound “tourist destination” title.
The show itself, which has been branded as the “world’s best and biggest fountain”, was admittedly, pretty magical. It lasted for 20 minutes, and featured shooting streams of water coloured by flashing lights, perfectly choreographed to a variety of popular Korean songs. Given that Steph and I had been discussing (often feeling uncertain about) our future careers, Steph sarcastically quipped that “this is actually someone’s job. They just coordinate water and lights to music as their livelihood!” We also joked that they hadn’t quite done the job justice, since “Let It Go” from the Frozen OSD, which would have been a perfect choice for the Sunset Fountain of Dreams’ light show, was not utilized.
The light show ended rather quickly (or so it felt at the time), and Steph and I began the long journey home; not before, of course, jumping on the trampoline one last time. Despite how zonked out I felt on the subway back to Jangsan, Steph and I had enjoyed a perfect, spur of the moment day in an area I knew I wouldn’t be returning to, ever. The “neurotic planner” inside me flashed a toothy grin.
* I use the term “love” lightly – it was indeed a charming area, but not one that you could pay me enough to live in for the duration of a full-year teaching contract.
Directions
To get to Dadaepo Beach and the Dadaepo Sunset Fountain of Dreams, take the Red Line on the Busan Subway (Line 1) to Sinpyeong Station (stop 101). Go out exit 5, and wait at the bus stop on your right. Buses 2, 11, 338, and 1000 will all take you to Dadaepo. The bus ride takes approximately 20 minutes. Get off the bus at the DaeU apartment complex on the right side of the street. The beach and fountain are a five minute walk straight down the road, across the street. Note: The fountain is closed every Monday. For more information regarding show times and seasons, please click here.
Millennial Abroad 