Day 8: Haeundae

Despite the blackout curtains, I woke with the sun. I stayed in bed for as long as I could stand, trying to get more sleep, then got dressed, left the hotel, and walked toward the Busan Art Museum.

I browsed the two exhibitions on display—one called, “My Young & Sad Days” that combined a series of paintings, sculptures, and video pieces by three different artists, focused on work inspired by recent tragedies—the pandemic, recession, and the Halloween crowd crush. The second showed off the flowery anime rainbow acid trip that is the work by Takahashi Murakami’s studio, a strange and jarring contrast.

From the museum, I walked back toward the hotel, then through Marine City, toward Haeundae Beach, one of the main draws of Busan, even though it’s not yet swimming weather. I walked the length of the boardwalk, then bought a roll of gimbap—only $3 for one of the most delicious meals so far. I ate it on the steps facing the ocean, pausing between pieces to re-wrap it to shield it from the flying sand.

When I reached the Blue Line, I took the Beach Train to Songjeong, Busan’s other popular beach and surf spot. The zany prerecorded narrator pointed out sites such as the “flamboyant cafes where you can make good memories” and the spot on the beach where a North Korean submarine sneakily landed a few decades back. Once we arrived at the end of the line, I watched the surfers drift along the waves waiting for breaks that never came, then decided to walk the two-ish hours back to the hotel along the coastline. The city provided a well-maintained boardwalk for exactly this purpose, and I never lost sight of the ocean the entire time.

Come nightfall, I watched the impressive, nearly hour-long fireworks show—part of Busan’s bid for the 2030 World Expo—erupt over the bridge from the comfort of my hotel room while slurping down instant noodles. When the show ended with a humble final plume, I gazed out at the many private boats that had gathered in the dark harbor as they slowly drifted their way home.