The road from Seoul to Gyeongju-si.

It takes about three and a half hours from the Express Bus Station in Seoul to Gyeongju-si, the ancient kingdom of Silla. At its height between the 7th and 9th centuries, it ruled about two-thirds of the Korean peninsula.

I’ve decided to go on a whim. I’ve been in Seoul for a week and want to get out of the city and into the country. I had considered going all the way to Busan, but something about Gyeongju-si sounds magical. I book a bus ticket and two nights at a Korean guesthouse south of the center surrounded by rice fields.

The bus station is attached to a mall south of the river and I take the subway there, arriving there early to make sure I have enough time to locate my bus and maybe buy some snacks. I needn’t have worried, though the path to the station itself through the underground corridors lined with shops takes a minute for me to decipher.

The bus leaves on time, making its way through the crowded streets of the city until we reach a highway that quickly takes us away from the density of Seoul and into the country. We zoom past fields flooded with water ready for planting and series of tunnels that bore through the hills and mountains that cover 70% of the country. I hadn’t realized what a mountainous nation South Korea is until driving through it, literally.

Somewhere along the way we stop at a rest stop. The driver lets us know how much time we have and lets us all off. It’s a wide plaza, the various shops and restaurants stretching alongside a large parking lot. There are outdoor stands, convenience stores, and a large food court that takes up a cavernous space on one end of the building.

Back on the bus we don’t have that much further to go. Soon we reach the city and the bus station. The Express Bus Terminal is simple, sitting near a river that bounds the western edge of the town center. The tourist center, anchored by Hwangnidan-gil Street, is about half a kilometer away and I shoulder my bags and walk east to form my first impressions of the city.

Hwangnidan-gil Street is a cute, thriving road flanked by cafes and shops, some boasting ornate hanok-style Koren architecture. It’s a busy street, with other many other alleys and lanes running from it. Glancing down the blocks I see more shops and restaurants and cafes that vie for my attention. There are people of all ages entering the shops, lining up for treats, out for a stroll some in beautiful hanbok.

I walk the length of the street without stopping. I’ll have time to stroll later.

I walk to the edge of town and cross a street. The buildings end abruptly, replaced with broad green fields. To one side I spot a set of tumuli, large, grass-covered burial mounds from the Silla Dynasty that house the tombs of kings and nobility. A little further down the road a cafe has decks you can sit on to enjoy your beverages while looking out over the mounds.

I continue walking south, crossing a small stream to reach a small neighborhood of homes set amongst the fields. Small shoots jut out of the flooded paddies. The water reflects the traditional houses, perfectly mirroring their white walls and tiled roofs.

I have some trouble finding my guesthouse. The location on Google Maps isn’t quite where it is and I find myself standing before the wrong building. Walking on I find a few people working in a large glassed building and ask for directions. They point me down another street, headed back towards the river. I thank them and circle around to follow their directions.

The guesthouse is comprised of a few buildings set around a beautiful courtyard. I enter the front gates and head to the main building where there is no one. I ring the bell but no one answers. I decide I’m in no rush and prepare to sit on on deck when a man appears from around the corner. He checks me in and shows me my room, a simple square with a cabinet at the end that holds my futons, a bathroom in the back. From the window in the bathroom I have views of the fields, the nearby mountains silhouetted against the sky. It’s perfect.

Two of the main tourist sights in the area are a bus ride away. To make my life easier I decide to book a tour and then head out to walk back to town for dinner. The rain that has been threatening to come all day arrives as I walk past the fields. I duck into an eel restaurant just as it starts pouring and I’m thankful to be dry and for the delicious meal that comes shortly after.