Tagged: Busan

Memories of Busan

It was right around this time 2010 that we were in Busan for a long weekend, and I really wished that I was there today. So in memory, I posted a few previously unpublished photos from our day of following a trail of two cities: from the Haeundae (해운대) resort area, and around the bend through a marina to the beautiful (and bustling) Gwangalli Beach (광안리). Probably would have been quicker to just take a cab. Ahhhhh, the good times. May they last forever.

Busan Korea in the Spring

In celebration of making my 18th million, we went back to Busan this past weekend for some major shopping. To my surprise, the Gukje Market in Busan’s Nampo-dong had almost as many bootlegs as we saw at the “well known place for slaughter of foreigner dollars,” better known as the Silk Street Market in Beijing, China. Being that Busan is the largest port city in South Korea, I suspect containers of counterfeit goods arrive on a weekly (if not daily) basis. Naturally items were more expensive here: Swiss movement Breitling or Rolex Submariner for approx $90 (in China $45), Dolce & Gabanna / Diesel / Armani Jeans for approx $65 US (in China $15). Quality forgeries though. Perhaps one day I’ll afford a real pair of D & G’s and confirm there is no difference — not one that justifies spending an extra $100, anyway.

Before spending all of our money, we paid 4000KRW to ride the elevator up to the Busan Tower observatory and snapped some dreary pics of the city. It really does look bland (have a look for yourself), but the night life is definitely great. We stayed at some fucking cum dumpster of a motel about 100 feet from the Jagalchi fish market, Korea’s largest and most famous marketplace for marine products. I walked into the room and turned on the television hoping to find the World Cup soccer game and instead got a screen full of hanging titties. For $13 a night, I hope they at least washed the sheets. Later that evening when coming back from a bar which served dry roasted skate with $5 bottles of Leffe Blonde, someone had taped the largest hooker cards I’ve ever seen to the flower pot at the motel entrance. One side read massage event, while the other simply said sex. Have I mentioned before that prostitution is absolutely rampant in the country? Stumbling out early the next morning, all the cards been taken or thrown away and I wobbled down the alley into the Jagalchi fish market. A woman mercilessly tore the ink sack from an octopus. Black ink spewed everywhere. She then tossed the creature into a plastic bag before happily tossing that into the corner. This next to another women furiously chopping the heads from live fish curiously sparked my appetite. So I went to McDonald’s.