Solo Summer Trip to Gangneung: A Coffee Lover’s Journey, part four

I’m not sure why I decided to take a solo trip to Gangneung for summer vacation 2024. I had heard of the infamous cafe street, but the previous cafe streets I’ve visited have been disappointing, with lots of chain cafes, few cafes, or simply not enough cafes (in my opinion) to be called “cafe street.”

So let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

cold brew, Munchkins, and Oatside on a train table

I boarded the KTX train at Seoul Station. It took about two hours to travel to Gangneung. I grabbed a cold brew, some mini donuts, and a container of oat milk for the train. I actually boarded the wrong train at first (I blame the fact that I hadn’t had any coffee yet) but eventually realized that it was a) completely empty, and b) headed to Busan. Luckily, I found the right platform and boarded next to an elderly man eating ramen noodles who proceeded to move and make his college-aged grandson sit next to me, I think because he didn’t want to sit next to a foreigner and not that he was trying to set us up or anything, because the grandson didn’t talk to me at all.

Gangneung Station is just one big circle, literally. It was completely different to the bustling Seoul Station. It was hot outside while I waited for a local bus to take me close to my pension, because I was trying to save money by not taking a taxi.

Once I got off at my stop, which was in the middle of nowhere, I had to walk in the street and later, through a field of wildflowers to get to the even smaller local bus that ran along the beach. Luckily, I only had to wait around 5 minutes until the bus came. And I mean I was lucky–the bus actually only came once every hour so I could have been standing there for a long time, or until I broke down and called a taxi.

I stayed at Mint Cloud Pension because it looked really adorable in the photos and featured a spa bathtub. Baths are a luxury here in Korea and I admit I once booked a local hotel room for a night just to take a bubble bath. What’s a pension, you ask? It’s a mix between a hotel and an Air BnB. Mint Cloud was like a small hotel, and you were supposed to clean up after yourself when you left. I washed the dishes, took out the trash, left the recycling in a bag, stripped the bed of the sheets, and then popped out my head into the hallway to see if a pair of bedsheets had been left, as had been previously been for another room. There hadn’t been, and it was nearing check-out time, so I guess that is something that they take care of.

I walked up the hill to the pension, which had its front door open, and knocked on the door of a small room. A tiny dog started barking and a middle-aged man came out to greet me. The benefit of being a foreigner in Korea is that he recognized me right away and knew what room I was staying in. When I confirmed my name, he gave me a shocked look and asked, “You speak Korean?” Apparently I had given him my name in Korean syllables, and he seemed pleased that I did speak enough Korean to understand the instructions he gave me about only taking one bath a day (lest the other rooms not have hot water), cleaning up after myself, etc.

I unpacked my stuff and then headed to the 7-11 I had seen at the bottom of the hill and bought some noodles and a Coke for dinner. I ran a bath and turned on the spa before it was done filling, spraying myself in the face, but eventually I figured it out and enjoyed a nice bath with jet streams and changing colored lights. (Dear future partner: we’re getting one of these, right?)

Then I headed up to the loft where I hooked up my CPAP, poured some bottled water in it, and started reading a Goosebumps book before I fell asleep.

The next morning, I made my way to Wolhwa Street. First, I stopped in 100 Years Imdang Mill cafe. Honestly, looking at the green pastry I bought, I can’t remember if it was matcha or some other flavor. It was all right, and the coffee was fine; nothing that special. The decor was really beautiful, though.

I walked around a little bit and since I had gotten a late start, started to feel hungry. I didn’t know where to begin to search for a restaurant, until I pulled up a noodle restaurant a few alleys away.

I walked up a flight of stairs, at the bottom of which hung a picture of the middle-aged woman who ran the restaurant, under which a bag of green onions sat.

There were a few people in line ahead of me. The restaurant was relatively small, busy, and as I quickly realized, a very good choice for lunch–there were only 7 items on the menu, several of which were simply different types of potato dumpling noodle dishes.

The woman whose portrait of her younger self hung downstairs was behind the counter, directing her staff like she was directing traffic. She personally came up to me and gestured to a seat.

There was a kiosk at the table to order, so I placed an order without talking to anyone. Usually menus in Korea will have what amounts to a “best” menu notation, so I just ordered the potato dumpling noodle dish that was marked as “best.”

I actually watched a couple come in and sit a few seats away from me receive their banchan, or side dishes, of kimchi and some other dish, while I was still waiting for mine. Just as I was feeling like an outsider, a busy restaurant worker came over and gave me my own banchan. I got up and got a pitcher of cold water to drink and sat back down.

A few moments after I received my noodle dish and had begun to dig in, wondering how it came to be that I was eating a hot dish on an incredibly hot day but enjoying it immensely, the owner came over and asked me how it was. I told her it was delicious and she walked away with a smile.

After I finished my meal, I wandered through a traditional market and down Wolhwa Street itself. I walked up to a bridge overlooking the street and decided it was too hot to keep walking more, so I walked back down and passed by a few tables outside a cafe cluttered with cat things.

Obviously, I had to buy a black cat hair clip. I was pleasantly surprised to see that I could also buy coffee there, roasted by the owner and put in a bag that had the coffee bean origin written in Sharpie. This is either going to be horrible coffee or some of the best coffee of my life, I thought.

Speaking of coffee, I needed more, so I decided to go see what this cafe street was all about. I took a local bus that dropped you off right at the start of the street, which was along Anmok beach.

I must admit, after walking along the beach for what felt like forever in the hot sun, I was left disappointed yet again. There were few cafes that piqued my interest and I settled on Bossa Nova. The coffee was good, but nothing special.