The tide was out when I got to Wolmido, and the mudflats stretched like a brown mirror under the overcast sky. The air was thick, salty, and hot — even with the clouds, it felt like 39 degrees. I’d come for the sea, the pier, and the fried shrimp, but the first thing I noticed was the cranes. Not the birds — the construction kind. This is a working port, and the amusement park sits right next to it, so you get Ferris wheel spokes and steel girders in the same frame.
Wolmido is the closest thing Incheon has to a boardwalk. It’s a small island connected by a causeway now, and the main drag is full of arcades, seafood restaurants, and a stone’s throw from the water. I walked past the Wolmi Theme Park, which has a ferris wheel that locals say gives you a good view of the city and the sea on a clear day. Today, it was hazy, but I could see the port cranes, the container ships, and the blue-green water of the West Sea. The whole place felt like a seaside town that never quite decided if it was retro or just old.
I stopped for lunch at a counter place near the pier – nothing fancy, just a few tables and a plastic menu. I ordered the fried shrimp and a plate of tteokbokki, the spicy rice cakes you can’t escape anywhere in Korea. The shrimp were crispy, the tteokbokki was sweeter than I expected, and the whole meal cost me about 12,000 won, which is roughly nine dollars. For a seaside tourist spot, that felt fair. A bottle of local beer would have been another 4,500, but I skipped it — I had a ferry to catch.
The Wolmi Sea Train is a cute little monorail that runs from the island to a nearby park and back. It’s not a thrilling ride, but it gives you a different view of the coast, and the breeze helps. I bought a one-way ticket — it was a few thousand won, I don’t remember exactly, but it’s not a big dent. The train passed over the mudflats, where people in rubber boots were digging for clams, and then hugged the shore past a few small beaches. Everything was brown and green and grey, but the sky was huge, and the clouds were doing that summer thing where they pile up like whipped cream.
I’d read that the Korean War had its famous landing here — the September 1950 Operation Chromite. MacArthur’s troops came in at Wolmido, and there are markers on the beaches where the Green, Red, and Blue landing teams came ashore. Looking at the mudflats now, it was hard to imagine tanks and landing craft, but the history is heavy. There’s a memorial hall nearby if you want the full story. I didn’t go in — it was too hot to stand still — but I nodded at the statue by the pier.
After the train, I sat on a bench with a coconut ice cream that cost me 4,500 won, about three dollars. The sun tried to break through, and for a minute the water went from grey to silver. A family next to me was arguing over where to eat dinner. An old man was fishing off the rocks with a cheap rod. A ferry horn sounded somewhere out in the harbour. It wasn’t paradise, but it was alive. This is what a summer afternoon on the edge of the country feels like.
I took the ferry back to the mainland — it’s a short hop, and the ticket is just a couple of dollars. From the deck, Wolmido got smaller and smaller, and the port cranes of Incheon took over the skyline. The water was flat and the sky was low. I thought about how this city is the gateway to Korea for so many people — you land at the airport, maybe you take the train straight to Seoul, and you never look back. But there’s a whole city here, with beaches and history and politics and the smell of squid drying in the sun.
The bigger story in the news today is the Pentaport Rock Festival. It’s been running since the weekend over in Songdo, and I’m told Massive Attack and Pixies headlined. The festival site is at Songdo Moonlight Festival Park, which is next to the central canal. I walked over there this afternoon just to see it. Even with the heat, there were crowds of people in shorts and sunburn, carrying bottles of water and earplugs. The music was still echoing off the skyscrapers around the park. A one-day ticket is around 150,000 won, I think — over a hundred dollars — so it’s not a cheap day out. But people were here for it.
I didn’t go in. I’d had my day at the coast, and the festival line-up wasn’t my thing. Instead, I found a café near the canal called Forest Outings — a quiet spot with big windows and air conditioning. I ordered an iced americano, which in Korea is about 4,500 won, and sat watching the people drift by with their festival wristbands and their tired feet. The city is sweating, but everyone seems to be having a good time.
The heat is the real story this week. It’s been over 30 degrees every day, and the humidity makes it feel closer to 40. I saw a news item about a construction crane in Ganseok-dong that snagged power lines and cut electricity to about 60 households. Nobody was hurt, and power was back in a few hours, but it shows how stretched everything gets in a heatwave. The city is full of people seeking air conditioning — the malls, the subway, the museums.
Speaking of museums, I passed the National Museum of World Writing Systems, which is in Songdo. I didn’t go in, but it’s on my list — I’ve heard it’s free and has a great collection on how writing started. There’s also the Incheon Urban History Museum, which covers the port city’s past, from the treaty port years to the landing and the industrial boom. Worth checking out if you have a rainy day or a hot afternoon.
Back in the city centre, I wandered into Sinpo International Market for a late snack. This market has been here since the port opened in 1883, and it’s the birthplace of a few things — most famously, dak gangjeong, which are sweet and spicy glazed chicken bites. I got a small box for about 8,000 won, about six dollars. They were sticky, crunchy, and exactly what I needed after a day of walking. The market alleys were crowded, but it’s a different kind of crowd — locals buying fish and vegetables, tourists with cameras, kids grabbing cups of tteokbokki.
I’m staying in a one-room flat near Bupyeong Station, which is the local nightlife hub and a good transit point between Seoul Line 1 and the Incheon lines. My rent is about 819,000 won a month, which is roughly 600 dollars. It’s a small place, but it has air conditioning and I can walk to the station in five minutes. For a short stay like mine, that’s fine. If you’re thinking of moving here, rents in Incheon are about 25 to 30 percent cheaper than Seoul, and you get more space for the money.
I also got my T-money card sorted, which is the transit card for the whole country. The card itself costs about 3,000 to 5,000 won, and you top it up with cash. A single metro or bus ride is around 1,550 won, about a dollar ten, and transfers between bus and metro are free within 30 minutes. That’s a steal. I’ve got the card loaded up and I’m ready to explore.
One thing I’m still figuring out is the Alien Registration Card. You need it if you’re staying more than 90 days, and you have to apply within 90 days of arrival. I’ve booked my appointment through the HiKorea site — that’s the official portal — and I’m going to the Incheon Immigration Office next week. It feels like a rite of passage. Until I get the card, I’m on a tourist SIM, but I’ve already picked out a bank — I’m going to open an account at Hana Bank, because there’s a branch right at the airport, and they’re used to dealing with foreigners. The process is straightforward: passport, ARC, and a form.
I’m starting to feel like this city is a real place, not just a stopover. In two days I’ve already learned the rhythm of the buses and the subway, found my go-to coffee spot, and figured out where the free Wi-Fi is. The paperwork is a drag, but the city is making it easier.
Tonight, I’m going to a jjimjilbang near my flat — a Korean sauna and bathhouse. It’s a good way to feel like a local and to stretch out after all the walking. The one I’m going to is a big chain, and the entrance fee is about 12,000 won. It sounds fancy, but it’s really just a clean place with hot rooms, cold pools, and a lounge where you can sleep on the heated floor. It’s the best 9 dollars you can spend.
As I was walking back, the sun finally broke through the clouds, and the whole city went from grey to gold. The ferris wheel at Wolmido lit up against the evening sky, and the music from the festival was still faintly audible, mixing with the sound of cicadas. I stood there for a moment, and I felt it — this is going to be a good summer. There’s something about a port city that keeps its doors open to the world, and Incheon feels like it’s ready for whatever comes next.
Tomorrow, I’m heading to Jayu Park, the hilltop park above the port with the MacArthur statue. It’s a good history lesson and a great view of the harbour. Until then, I’m going to sleep with the windows open, listening to the cicadas and the occasional ferry horn. The night is warm, but it’s a good kind of warm. This is Minjun, and I’ll see you in the next one. Annyeonghaseyo.