Wando to Busan

As a photographer, I have learned that my skills in observation are far more valuable than the price of my equipment. This is why I relish roaming across the globe; travelling forces me to view life from fresh and original perspectives. It hones my eye by engendering in me a child-like curiosity at even the smallest ingredients of the day. 

My vehicle of choice is the bicycle. When my body is the engine rather than an idle passenger, the stimulation and intensity of the experience are heightened exponentially. On the saddle, my every sense is fully immersed in the immediate surroundings. There is no detachment, no numbness: I am plugged in to the place. At pedal-pace, I can savor the beauty of fine details and pause to connect with the world rather than merely gawk at it slipping past through tinted panes. One learns to appreciate the primacy of journey over destination.

This summer I explored Korea’s island-speckled southern coast for six nights and 600 km along the road less travelled from Wando to Busan. Dusty lanes meandered though rusty rural hamlets where gnarled fishermen and wizened octogenarians cackled in the shade of ancient trees. I was treated to swaying fields of glowing green nestled between craggy, misty-topped mountains where billowing clouds of dragonflies danced in the floral-scented breeze. Buzzing wetlands alternated with vast, shimmering mudflats where slender-necked birds soared silhouetted against the distant horizon. Hazy mornings turned to sun-drenched days playing fiddle to turquoise waves on empty beaches before sleeping wild under twinkling skies.

Having cycled across Southeast Asia and along the Korean west coast last year, next summer I plan to continue my journey in Europe, hitting the road from Istanbul to London. Wanderlust and wonder are intimately intertwined. Before buying new gear, though, I will always choose to buy new experiences.