2 Days in Andong: Rain, Masks, and Quiet Kindness

(Part of my 30-day backpacking journey in South Korea)

Day 1: Rain, Masks, and a Kind Host
After a beautiful morning in Gyeongju, I boarded the 11:40 AM bus to Andong. A few hours later, I arrived, ready for a new chapter of the trip. And Andong didn’t disappoint.

My Couchsurfing host, Shin DK, works at the Andong Hanok Village and kindly toured me around Hahoe Village. Walking through it felt like stepping into a living museum. Centuries-old homes, tiled roofs, gravel paths, and a sense of history hanging heavy in the misty air.

While wandering alone, the rain came. Hard. I had to look for shelter quickly and found myself at Biyeon Jeongsa, a historic pavilion built by scholar Ryu Seong-ryong for study and reflection. Despite the pouring rain, the place felt calm and grounding. I stood under the wooden eaves, watching raindrops fall beside a massive 600-year-old tree, its bark deeply grooved, ancient, and unmoved by time.

Roamed around again when the rain stopped. Inside one of the oldest houses in the village, I saw a halmeonni quietly preparing what looked like fish. Calm, focused, unbothered. A small, real moment of daily life unfolding in a place frozen in history.

The rain picked up again. I ran to a nearby mask shop hoping to stay dry, only to find it closed. Cue more frantic running, until I found myself back at Biyeon Jeongsa. By then, it felt like an old friend. Shin DK picked me up shortly after, and we headed home.

A Room with Soul
I stayed the night in a charming room inside Shin DK’s home. A peaceful two-bedroom apartment tucked away in a quiet village. The room used to be his drawing room. He’s into calligraphy and art, and the space carried a calm, creative energy.

The most unexpected part was that he gave me a mask necklace. A small but deeply meaningful gift I’ll always remember. His English wasn’t perfect, but his warmth, patience, and kindness spoke louder than words.

Even with the rain, he insisted on going out again because he knew I wanted photos. So off we went, splashing through puddles and driving along quiet roads. We visited a bridge known as a “date paradise,” roamed around the local market, and finally sat down for Andong jjimdak, the city’s most famous dish.

The restaurant was packed and for good reason. Jjimdak was rich, savory, slightly sweet, with chicken falling right off the bone. Honestly, it’s one of the best meals I’ve had on this trip.

On the way home, he bought donuts for my breakfast the next morning. Such a simple gesture, but incredibly thoughtful.

Tea, Photos, and Quiet Gratitude
Back at the house, my host brewed me a pot of chrysanthemum tea. I transferred my photos to my hard drive and finally felt warm and dry, reflecting on a rainy but full day.

Little joy worth mentioning: Andong’s bus system is surprisingly traveler-friendly. Digital screens at bus stops even have English translations. After days of guessing routes in other cities, this felt like a gift.

All in all, the day was rainy but rich with quiet wonder, kindness, and connection. From standing under an ancient house and tree to sipping tea in a calligrapher’s home, Andong gave me stories I never expected. And I’m grateful.

Day 2: From Donuts to the Wrong Bus Stop
I woke up around 8:30 AM to soft morning light filtering through the windows. Breakfast was simple: the two donuts my host bought the night before (still soft, still sweet) and a cup of French coffee. Comforting and familiar.

Around 10:50 AM, I went out to check where the bus stop is, then walked back to the house. While there, I made a last-minute decision to change my plans for my stay in Jecheon. Something about the flow of the trip told me it was time to shift plans.

I left the house at 12:15 PM and took Bus 11 toward the bus terminal. Of course, I got off one stop too early, which meant a 500-meter walk with my heavy backpack dragging me down. I was already tired, and the day had barely begun.
Classic backpacker moment.