Day 8 – Solo Korea Car Camping Trip: Ulsan → Pohang

 2021.05.31(Mon)

It’s been eight days since I left home, and I can feel the fatigue slowly catching up with me. During the day, Jinha Beach was filled with crowds of people, but once night fell, it was as if everyone had vanished into thin air. Cars and people disappeared like the ebbing tide, and I was left alone in the middle of the beach, restless and uneasy through the night.

I kept whispering to myself that everything would be fine, trying to fall asleep. Yet, I couldn’t shake off the fear that someone might suddenly yank open the car door. At dawn, I finally gave in to my nerves and moved my car under the streetlight in front of a convenience store. I half-slept, half-woke through the night, until morning arrived.

At sunrise, I cleaned out the inside of my car and set off for my next destination, Pohang. There, I reminded myself that despite this trip, I was still technically a student. I couldn’t just spend all my days idly wandering. So, I headed to the city library.

Studying without anyone forcing me—purely out of my own will—felt refreshing. It was even enjoyable in a way. Once again, I realized: everything becomes bearable, even fun, when done in moderation.

After finishing some study and work, lunchtime rolled around, so I dropped by a small snack shop nearby and picked up what I consider the ultimate trio: tteokbokki, fried snacks, and kimbap. With my feast in hand, I drove over to Dogu Beach.

Apparently, it’s a well-known car camping spot in Pohang, because even though it was a weekday afternoon, plenty of people had already settled in and were enjoying the sea. I parked my car in a nice spot, laid back, and enjoyed my meal while watching a movie with the waves as my background.

When it comes to food, taste is important, yes—but where you eat and with whom you eat matter just as much. Sitting there, gazing at the ocean, listening to the rhythm of the waves, even the soggy fried snacks had their flaws forgiven. The view and the moment more than made up for it.

With my stomach full and my body still tired from a restless night before, I drifted into a deep nap. Waking up refreshed, I spent the rest of the afternoon lost in thought—watching the sea, strolling along the beach, and reading a book as the sun began to set.

It suddenly hit me: this trip had already reached its halfway point. Along with the freedom of the road, I began to feel the ache of missing my family and friends. More than anything, I longed for the comfort of my own room—just being able to stretch out my legs and sleep without worry.

That night, I found myself quietly grateful for the little things in life. Not the grand or extraordinary, but the simple comforts I had taken for granted.

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7. Love Sometimes Blinds Us

: When I look at friends in relationships, I often see them doing foolish things. And honestly, it scares me—will I end up the same?

Love has always been a sensitive and complicated subject for me. The more I try to understand it, the more tangled it feels.

I only began my first real relationship as an adult. Before that, love was something I learned indirectly, watching my friends. To me, their love looked sweet and pure, but at the same time, I saw them sacrificing their own priorities and responsibilities for it—something I couldn’t understand back then. I promised myself I would never do the same.

In my mind, love was simply about spending more time and sharing more feelings with someone than with anyone else. But what I experienced in reality was far more complex. Love wasn’t just affection and care—it came with responsibility, compromise, and sometimes pain.

At first, inexperienced as I was, I put my partner before myself. Before I knew it, I had lost my balance, being pulled along in his orbit. After heartbreak, I carried the trauma for a long time. Even when meeting someone new, I feared, “This will end someday too.” Maintaining relationships under that mindset was nearly impossible.

That’s why, even now, I don’t feel fully confident when it comes to love.

Still, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: under the name of love, you cannot expect too much from another person. Only when you accept them as they are can things feel lighter. And strangely, love is like a game—you gain experience, your vision sharpens, and each time you grow to meet someone better. I’ve come to agree with the saying that the more people you meet, the more refined your perspective becomes.

I used to believe in the phrase “get over a man by meeting another man,” but I no longer think that way. What I’ve realized instead is that the level of self-love you carry directly affects the kind of partner you attract. Those who truly cherish themselves seem to find partners capable of giving that same depth of love in return.

So, perhaps it’s not too late. Maybe it’s better to fully recognize my own worth first, and only then open myself to love again.

I don’t know. Love… it’s just so hard.

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