When you come to Seoul, visiting Seoul’s old town is a must. But where exactly is Seoul's old town? If you Google it, most likely, the first thing to pop up is Bukchon Hanok Village. You can imagine that crowds flock to glimpse the magnificent Hanok buildings (Korean traditional houses). What if I told you there’s still a lesser-known street in Bukchon Hanok Village called Gye-dong? This street won my heart after a love-at-first-sight moment. Will I share this love? Of course!
My ears were drawn to an old launderette shop at the beginning of the street, where the shop owner was watching a football match on an old TV from the early 2000s. Out of curiosity, I asked how old the shop was. Without answering, he opened the front roller shutters and pointed at a bronze-looking sign. “Third oldest shop,” it said, since 1977. Naturally, we started talking about Gye-dong in the 70s, and voilà, a simple sign, was a great conversation starter.
Then, the fun began. All the oldest shops in the street have signboards indicating when they first opened. It's such a simple yet unique concept! Suddenly, I was on a quest to find them all! The one that stood out was the sesame oil shop Daeguchamgireumjip, the second oldest, which opened in 1970. It is in an authentic, green-colored Hanok that begs to be photographed. The fourth oldest shop since 1986 is called the Wangjjanggu Restaurant, which was my personal favorite. The boss, a warm-hearted man, makes delicious handmade noodle dishes with a big smile. The fifth oldest shop, opened in 1988, is a hair salon. The ninth oldest is an original rice cake maker. I was told people come far and wide to buy rice cakes. As evident from the diverse shops, the signboards take you on a nostalgic journey through Gye-dong, evoking memories. It's like a treasure hunt, with each signboard revealing a piece of Gye-dong's history.
Of course, if you're seeking hanoks, Gye-dong has got you covered. In addition to their gorgeous aesthetics, hanoks have fascinating stories about its inhabitants, architecture, and Korea’s Geomancy. Gye-dong is now home to the Bukchon Traditional Culture Center, offering an immersive experience into the world of hanoks. Once you've absorbed the knowledge, don your adventurous cap because to discover the most beautiful hanoks, you must venture off the main street. Don’t be afraid to get lost and sneak left and right into side alleys for the best picturesque hanok scenery. And guess what? You’ll probably be the only one! If you’re lucky, you may find a historically significant building related to the March 1st Movement or Joseon Dynasty because there are plenty. Feel the privilege of being among the few to discover the hidden beauty of Gye-dong's hanoks.
If, like me, you appreciate the "oldest of something" in Korea, then you’re on the right street, especially when that oldest something offers the best view over Gye-dong and its graceful hanok roofs. Halfway is the building that once held Korea’s first public bathhouse. The bathhouse disappeared after the building was remodeled, but traces like old pipes, tiles, and the old boiler room can still be found. You can climb to the roof through an exhibition hall to be wowed by a nearly undiscovered yet stunning view overlooking Gye-dong Street.
Are you falling in love yet? Wait until you pass the ancient Seokjeong Boreum Well and reach the end of the road, where a majestic Ginko Tree will greet you. It’s the entrance of the well-known Choong Ang High School, a historical building made famous by the drama Winter Sonata. It’s believed that this drama sparked the Korean Wave in Japan in 2003. Although it won’t allow tourists inside the gate anymore, seeing the gate up front is worth every second.
After giving up all hope of finding the oldest shop on the street, my eyes fell on a building’s façade decorated with K-pop posters and other goodies. Bingo! The oldest shop since 1960. I couldn’t be happier, although I was surprised to find K-pop goodies in Gye-dong’s oldest shop. The mystery was quickly solved. The word "super" was written in big red letters on the window. The shop owner told me it used to be a small supermarket, but the influx of K-drama lovers made her change the shop into a K-pop goodies shop. You can’t blame her, can you?