Dubai & Seoul: Through Dubai to Korea

We'd been together for maybe five months when G booked a flight from Toronto through Dubai to Seoul for her birthday. A month-long trip. I wasn't going. We were new enough that a month apart felt like a test, but also not so new that I was going to pretend I didn't already know she was the kind of person who books a month in Korea for her birthday instead of dinner and a movie.

She had a layover in Dubai. One night at the Radisson Blu Waterfront because her connection got messed up and she needed somewhere to crash. The Radisson Blu sits along the Dubai Creek extension, about 15 minutes from the airport without traffic. Not the flashiest hotel in a city that measures itself by flash, but it does the transit hotel thing better than most. The rooms are clean and properly soundproofed (which matters more than you think when you're trying to sleep between flights in a city that never shuts up). There's a pool, a gym, and a breakfast buffet that runs until 11, so if your connection isn't until the afternoon you can actually relax instead of sitting in a terminal. For a one-night layover in Dubai, you don't need the Burj Al Arab. You need a bed, a shower, and a car to the airport in the morning. The Radisson Blu handles that without drama and for about a third of what the waterfront hotels on the Marina charge.

Then Korea.

The Lotte Hotel Seoul is where she stayed for the bulk of the trip. It's right in the Myeongdong district, which is the commercial and shopping center of Seoul. You're steps from the Myeongdong street food stalls (which come alive around 4 PM every day and serve everything from Korean corn dogs to flame-grilled tteokbokki), a five-minute walk to the Euljiro craft beer scene, and directly on top of Line 2 of the subway, which connects you to Gangnam, Hongdae, and basically everywhere else you'd want to be.

The Lotte is one of those Korean luxury hotels where the service operates on a level that's hard to describe to someone who hasn't experienced it. Everything is choreographed. The turn-down service includes hand-written weather cards for the next day. Room service has an actual menu that rotates seasonally, not a laminated sheet that hasn't changed since 2014. The concierge speaks four languages and has real opinions about which Korean barbecue restaurant is worth the trip to Gangnam (her pick was Maple Tree House, and she wasn't wrong). For a long stay, the Lotte works because the location removes all friction. You can walk to half of what you want to see in Seoul, subway to the rest, and come back to a hotel that feels like a reset button every night.

Seoul in May is ideal timing. Cherry blossom season (late March to mid-April) brings the heaviest tourist traffic, so by May you get warm weather without the crowds. Low 20s Celsius during the day, a light jacket in the evening, and zero humidity. Long daylight hours, which matters when you're trying to see palaces and outdoor markets. This is the window. Avoid July and August unless you enjoy sweating through your shirt before noon.

G spent her birthday at Mingles, a two-Michelin-star restaurant in the Gangnam district. Chef Mingoo Kang trained at Nobu in Miami before going back to Seoul to build something entirely his own. What he does is take Korean foundation flavors (gochujang, doenjang, ganjang, and a dozen fermented ingredients that don't have English names) and restructure them into a tasting menu that reads like New Nordic in presentation but hits unmistakably Korean on every bite.

The signature course is a kimbap that arrives deconstructed on handmade ceramic. Nothing like the convenience store version. Each component is treated individually: seasoned rice, roasted seaweed, pickled radish, all rebuilt so you taste every layer instead of everything compressed into a single roll. The Jang Trio dessert at the end (doenjang crème brûlée, ganjang pecan, gochujang puff) is the most talked-about finish in Korean fine dining for a reason. Each one uses a traditional Korean fermented paste in a dessert context, and somehow none of it tastes forced.

Lunch is easier to get than dinner and about half the price. Book two to three weeks out. If Mingles is full, Jungsik is the other top-tier Seoul fine dining experience. Same caliber, different style (more playful, less restrained).

The other essential Seoul food experience, and the one that will stick with you longer than any Michelin meal, is Gwangjang Market. It's the oldest running market in the city, near Jongno 5-ga station on Line 1. The place is organized chaos in the best possible way. Rows of stalls, steam rising from every direction, women who've been cooking the same dish at the same stall for 30 years and will be doing it for 30 more.

You go for bindaetteok, those crispy mung bean pancakes fried on flat griddles until the edges are lacey and golden. G FaceTimed me from a stall at 2 AM (which was noon for her) holding one up to the camera like a trophy. You go for kalguksu, knife-cut noodles that are thick and chewy in a milky anchovy broth that tastes like it's been simmering since the Korean War. You go for the yukhoe stalls, where raw beef bibimbap comes out in a brass bowl and you mix it yourself with sesame oil and a raw egg yolk. G said she was skeptical about raw beef until the first bite, and then she ordered a second bowl and didn't say a word for ten minutes. The raw beef is silky and clean and if you've never had yukhoe before, this is where you should have it for the first time.

The real move at Gwangjang is timing. Go before 11 AM or after 2 PM on weekdays. Weekend afternoons are shoulder to shoulder and the wait for a stall seat can be 20 minutes. Go early, eat standing if you have to, and don't overthink the stall selection. Point at what the person next to you is eating. It's always the right choice.

Beyond the food, Seoul rewards walking and early mornings. The Bukchon Hanok Village is a neighborhood of traditional Korean houses (hanok) between Gyeongbokgung and Changdeokgung palaces. Most people show up at noon and see it packed with selfie sticks and tour groups. Go before 9 AM when the light is soft and the narrow alleyways are empty. It's a completely different place. And if you rent a hanbok (traditional Korean outfit) from one of the rental shops near Gyeongbokgung, you get free entry to the palace grounds. It's not a tourist gimmick. Koreans do it too, especially on weekends.

For nightlife, Itaewon is the expat district and where most of the international bar scene lives. But the locals go to Hongdae, which is younger, louder, and doesn't shut down until 5 AM. The pojangmacha (street tent bars) that pop up in Hongdae after midnight are some of the most fun you can have in Seoul. Cold soju, grilled intestines, and strangers who become friends by the second round.

G came back from that trip with a month's worth of stories and a phone full of photos I was jealous of. She told me about the jimjilbang (Korean bathhouse) experience and said it's non-negotiable if you visit. Dragon Hill Spa is the famous one, open 24 hours, multiple floors, saunas of different temperatures, a rooftop pool, and a snack bar that sells boiled eggs and sikhye (sweet rice drink) at 3 AM. She said the hotteok from the street cart closest to the Myeongdong station exit (not the one with the longest line, the one next to the shoe store) was the best thing she ate the entire trip. That's saying something after a month.

We haven't made it back yet. But we will.