Gwanganli Beach: Fireworks and BBQ

In the winter of 2013, I moved to South Korea. While their neighbour to the east is often lauded for its temples, nightlife and cuisine, the ROK rarely attracts Western tourists. For those seeking unique travel experiences however, the “land of morning calm” is home to both Buddhist monks and plastic pop stars, to coastal temples and to gleaming, futuristic cities.

I was lucky enough to put down temporary roots in Busan, the nation’s second city. A concrete jungle squeezed between verdant mountain ranges, the city is home to several stretches of golden coastline, notably East Asia’s most popular beach – Haeundae. To avoid an obstacle course of colourful umbrellas and escape the hoards, there are several other choices: Seongdo Beach, with its kitsch turtle diving platform and fake waterfalls won my vote for convenience, while empty Daedaepo proudly boasts the world’s largest fountain. South Korea plays host to dozens of festivals throughout the year, but the annual fireworks festival at Gwanganli Beach is one of the biggest and best.

In October, I arrived with friends to watch the fireworks. The impressive spectacle attracts thousands to the shore, so once we managed to find a patch of sand, we guarded it fiercely until night fell and the first explosion rent the air. The bright lights had been cleverly choreographed to a selection of deafening K-pop tunes, and our necks were sore by the end, but grins stretched across our faces when last sparks fell.

On a list of culinary experiences to try before one dies, Korean barbeque tops the list and it was time to eat!

Between shots of soju and local beer, platefuls of raw pork arrived and we were given free reign over a fiery grill that would make a health and safety inspector weep. The best way to eat barbeque pork involves plucking it from the grill and wrapping it up in a peppery salad leaf, with a crunchy clove of garlic and a smear of soy bean paste, before chowing down with gusto.

The grill was soon cleared, but the night was far from over – on a night out in Korea it is not uncommon to spend twelve hours zigzagging from bar to club to restaurant or food stall before ending up bent, cross-legged over a steaming bowl of galbitang (spicy rib soup) to ward off a hangover.
As we stumbled from the barbeque joint and out in the air, still thick with smoke, I stared out at Diamond Bridge glowing against the black sky beyond, and was happier than ever to be in Busan.