Day 2 – Solo Korea Car Camping Trip: Boryeong → Gunsan

2021.05.25(Tue)

One of my hobbies is learning languages.

My dream is to be able to speak four languages fluently with native speakers before I turn thirty. I believe that when you can have genuine conversations in someone’s native tongue, you can truly understand their culture, history, and people on a deeper level.

Today was my Spanish class day.

I left early in the morning for Gunsan, headed to a Starbucks, and ordered a coffee and a sandwich before starting my lesson.

After class, I took care of a few personal tasks, and around lunchtime, I made my way to Seonyudo—an island that belongs to Gunsan City. The water there was so clear that you could see straight down to the bottom.

I visited two beaches on the island: Seonyudo Beach, with its fine, soft sand, and Mongdol Beach, which was completely different. To get to Mongdol, I had to drive up a narrow, winding mountain road for about ten minutes. There, I found a very small beach made up of pebbles and stones, large and small.

It was fascinating to compare the two beaches—so different in style, yet both beautiful—in the same small island.

<Seonyudo Beach, Gunsan>

<Mongdol Beach, Gunsan (Pebble Beach)>

I spent the day walking, eating, taking naps, reading, and staring off into space.

For someone who’s lived her whole life in constant motion, this sudden shift in my daily rhythm felt strange. Every now and then, a wave of fear would wash over me—Is it really okay for me to be doing nothing at such an important moment in my life?

But really, what could I do? I wasn’t going to head home tomorrow, and the trip would go on.

So I folded up those unnecessary feelings, tucked them away, and buried them gently somewhere in the sand.

I hope I don’t run into them again for the rest of this journey.

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1. At eighteen, I have an incredible stepping stone called ‘time.’

:No matter what I do at this age, I will still be in my teens—or in my twenties.

If I had to name my proudest strength and greatest weapon right now, it would be ‘time.’

At twenty-three, I believe that no matter what I start or what I fail at, it’s never too late. I’m always grateful for the youth, vitality, and limitless potential I carry within me, and I try to make every single moment count.

It amazes me—and makes me proud—that my eighteen-year-old self already understood the value of time.

Back then, I thought twenty-three would be a mature age, one where I’d be earning plenty of money and enjoying a certain level of stability in life. To me, twenty-three was simply “being an adult.”

I hate to break that illusion to my younger self, but—Surprise! Not even close.

I’m not particularly mature, I have no money, and I’m going through one of the most unstable times of my life.

When I picture my future at thirty, I still hold onto high expectations, but I know the reality will probably be similar to now—just with a little more knowledge, a bit more experience, and hopefully, a touch more wisdom.

I will still be me.

Whether I’m thirty, fifty, or even a hundred, time will remain my most precious lifelong companion.

Because time can never be taken back once it’s passed, I was reminded today of how important it is to make every moment as meaningful as possible.

P.S. The view outside my window was every bit as beautiful as a five-star hotel view.

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