A Golden Ginkgo Day

Daily miles: 34.53 | Total miles: 10,218.41

I woke up at 6:30am, made my coffee, packed my things, and went downstairs to see what breakfast looked like. I really love these hotels in South Korea. The owner, Hea Young, had told me yesterday that breakfast would be available from 7 to 8am. Toast, jam, cereals with milk — nothing for me today, but the little buffet still made me smile.

More importantly, I got to say good morning to her. After learning each other’s names yesterday, something shifted. We spoke, each in our own language, but it didn’t matter. There was warmth and recognition. Before leaving, I asked her for a photo. “Happy day,” she said. And I truly felt it would be. We stepped outside in front of her hotel, where she has her garden, and took a few pictures. It was a lovely farewell and a gentle way to start the day. Gamsahaeyo, Hea Young!

I ran back to the bicycle path. It wasn’t nearly as cold as the day before — crisp but not icy. The trail twists and turns, and manoeuvring the heavy buggy on those bends is real work, but great training. I’m alone for long stretches, so the motivation feels different from running on a road where the flow of traffic pulls you forward. The Nakdong River appears again and again — wide, calm, and beautiful — and suddenly everything makes sense.

Around mile 10, I glanced to my right and stopped immediately. A massive, ancient ginkgo tree stood there in full autumn yellow. I stood frozen in awe. This particular tree is over 400 years old and is a designated Natural Monument of Korea at the Dodong Confucian Academy. Ginkgo trees are living fossils, among the oldest species on Earth. And here it was, glowing in front of me. What a gift.

Not long after, I ran through my first real tunnel in Korea. I also noticed again what I’ve seen often here — clusters of highrises rising in the distance behind open fields where people work manually by hand. Such an interesting contrast. The bicycle paths are incredibly well maintained, with fitness machines, pavilions (Jeongja), flower fields, walkers, runners, and cyclists everywhere.

Park Golf is another thing that fascinates me. I saw it often in Japan, and here it’s everywhere too. It feels so communal — mixed ages, mixed abilities, mixed teams — and so joyful to watch. I stopped briefly at Mister Lee’s little roadside stand. He sells everything from gloves to hats to golf clubs. He was cheerful and supportive, and after a short chat, I continued on.

The day warmed into a soft winter afternoon, around 15°C. I met Emilia from Argentina, cycling from Seoul to Busan, and my whole heart lit up. So many memories of Argentina returned instantly. Later, I crossed a bridge with another mental health reminder: “When you are tired and struggling, don’t worry and call me.” These messages are everywhere. They matter.

I passed a dedicated 10k running section with many runners. I told a few that I was running to Seoul, and many burst out laughing. One young man stopped, asked about my journey, and was genuinely impressed. These small exchanges fill my day with joy.

After another bridge, the path became an overwater open tunnel. Anyone who loves cycling or running should experience this path. It feels like a dream. The sun began to set, turning the landscape into something magical, and I still had a few miles to go. But I didn’t mind — everything was glowing.

When I reached Hasan-ri, I still needed food. The village felt worn down, almost abandoned in parts. The Business Hotel Europe appeared, and I decided to give it a try. First, I ran to a nearby store for food for tonight and tomorrow. Then I checked into the hotel. I had to unload the buggy and carry it up several stairs — no wheelchair access — but inside they had an elevator I could squeeze into. The room is simple, warm, and has everything I need. Shared toothpaste, lotions, soaps, and the famous 3-in-1 instant coffee with milk and sugar already included. I love how quickly we adapt to new comforts.

After 34.53 miles, this room feels like luxury.

Thanks for checking in. Andrea