This trip marked my last international adventure with my workmates—one final adventure before I closed a chapter and stepped into the unknown. I had already submitted my resignation before we boarded that plane. Maybe that’s why everything felt a little heavier, a little more vivid. The air was cold—it was the transition from winter to spring—and the skies mainly stayed gray. But the laughter was warm, and the memories are still glowing.
Our itinerary was packed, but I made it a point to be fully present for every moment. We began our journey on Nami Island, famous for its tree-lined paths, which have been featured in numerous K-dramas. Although the trees were still bare from winter, their branches reaching into gray skies created a serene atmosphere. It wasn’t the vibrant postcard scene I had imagined, but it was peaceful nonetheless. While waiting for our departure, we huddled in a cozy café nearby—laughing, chatting, soaking in what would be some of our last shared moments as officemates.
After that came the Garden of Morning Calm, which instantly became one of my favorite places, even without flowers in full bloom; it felt magical, like walking through the prologue of a fairytale. I found myself pondering how much more breathtaking it would be in spring.
That evening, a few of us went out spontaneously to Hongdae. It wasn’t part of the official itinerary, but sometimes the best memories come from unplanned nights, right? The streets were buzzing with youth and energy. And even though it was cold, we stayed out late, chasing laughter between shops and photobooths.
The following day, we visited the upscale streets of Gangnam and stopped by the iconic Starfield Library—a dream space with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that filled my bookish heart with joy. I could’ve stayed there all day.
One of the highlights was visiting N Seoul Tower, where I finally saw the famous Love Locks with my own eyes. There was something surreal about it—standing on a hill above the city, surrounded by symbols of promises and memories left behind by thousands of strangers.
On our last day, we wore hanbok, Korea’s traditional clothing, and explored the historic grounds of Gyeongbokgung Palace, where we witnessed the Changing of Guard Ceremony. Dressed in vibrant colors, we wandered through ancient courtyards, posed for photos, and tried to capture the essence of the experience in our memories. We continued to Bukchon Hanok Village, strolling among preserved traditional homes and snapping candid shots in between laughs.
Before we left for the airport, we had time to visit Myeongdong—a sensory overload in the best way. Street food everywhere, shops on every corner, and just enough time to grab last-minute souvenirs and fill our bellies one last time.
By the end of the trip, I was tired, a little emotional, and deeply grateful. It wasn’t just a trip—it was a quiet goodbye to a significant season of life. A final page, gently turned.
There are some journeys you take with others, not realizing until the end that they were a farewell to who you once were.
South Korea was beautiful, brisk, and bittersweet. And just like every good ending, it left me changed.
