Finding Authentic Korea: A Gastronomic Tour Through Gwangju with Friends

Why We Skipped Seoul for Jeolla Province

The idea of traveling to Korea in June came about spontaneously while my friends and I were sitting in a Korean BBQ spot in Moscow, realizing we wanted to taste the original. However, Seoul and Busan felt like too obvious choices. We were looking for something deeper, where food isn't just a snack, but a religion. After digging through forums, we settled on Gwangju, the capital of Jeolla-namdo province. In Korea, this region is considered the breadbasket and culinary heart of the country. If a Korean says a restaurant's food is "just like in Gwangju," it's the highest compliment.

We weren't expecting Blade Runner-style skyscrapers or neon jungles. Our focus was on traditional markets, small family-run restaurants that have existed for decades, and the chance to see real life without the tourist polish. Our mood before the start was purely exploratory: we even downloaded specialized apps for finding local spots that aren't indexed on the maps we're used to. Our group consisted of four people, all food lovers who aren't afraid of a little spice.

Preparation involved studying etiquette. We learned that in Gwangju, it's customary to serve a massive amount of free side dishes—banchan—and the variety here is wider than anywhere else. We also booked accommodation in different parts of the city to feel the contrast between old quarters and modern developments. Our main concern was the heat, but early June turned out to be comfortable, with a light breeze and no heavy rains, perfect for long walks between meals.

Day 1: Immersion in Chungjang-ro and the First Giant Table

Upon arriving in Gwangju, we immediately checked into an apartment in the Chungjang-ro district. It’s like a local high street but with a distinct Korean flavor. The place was spacious, featuring minimalist design and panoramic windows overlooking Mount Mudeungsan. Dropping our bags, we headed out for our first lunch. We chose an unassuming spot serving classic Hansik—a full-course Korean meal.

When the waitress started setting the plates, we realized we had over-ordered for four. The table literally disappeared under a layer of ceramic bowls. There was everything: from fermented perilla leaves to gejang marinated crabs. The main dish was grilled pork, but the side dishes stole the show. We spent two hours there trying to figure out exactly what we were eating. By the end of lunch, we realized one thing: we definitely wouldn't be losing weight on this trip.

After lunch, we wandered through the narrow alleys of Chungjang-ro. It's a strange mix of trendy boutiques and stalls where elderly locals sell dried fish. We stopped by several bakeries, which are on every corner in Korea, and tried bread with soybean paste. Our impression of the city was mixed: it felt calmer than Seoul, yet possessed a hidden energy. We spent the night at the apartment, falling asleep to the hum of the AC and discussing tomorrow's plans.

Day 2: Yangdong Market and the Art of Street Food

The morning of the second day began with a search for the "best coffee in Gwangju." It turns out Koreans are as obsessed with coffee shops as they are with kimchi. Finding a stylish industrial-style spot, we fueled up with iced americanos and headed to Yangdong Market. This is one of the oldest and largest markets in the region. They don't play tourist here—this is where people live and work.

The market overwhelmed the senses. It smelled of everything at once: fresh greens, the sea, and something pungent. We stumbled upon the rows selling the famous hongeo—fermented skate. It’s a local delicacy with a sharp ammonia scent. Only two of us dared to try it. The sensation was... specific, to say the least, but it was an important cultural experience. The others preferred pajeon—savory pancakes with seafood and green onions, cooked right in front of us on massive griddles.

We spent the whole day drifting from stall to stall. We ate tteokbokki—spicy rice cakes that they make with a special sauce in Gwangju. By evening, our feet were throbbing, so we decided to sit by the Gwangjucheon Stream. Plenty of young people were there, sitting on the grass, someone playing guitar. We ended the evening in a small bar trying makgeolli—rice wine served here in golden kettles. We slept like logs.

Day 3: Climbing Mudeungsan and a Well-Deserved Lunch

On the third day, we decided to dedicate time to nature and headed to Mount Mudeungsan. It's the symbol of the city and a massive national park. We didn't plan to conquer the peak but decided to hike one of the trails to the Seoseokdae rock columns. The ascent was moderate, the trails were well-equipped, and there were signs everywhere. The forest air was so fresh it made us dizzy.

Midway through, we met a group of elderly Koreans in professional hiking gear. They treated us to tangerines and, in broken English, recommended a restaurant at the foot of the mountain that serves samgyetang—ginseng chicken soup. We followed their advice. It was the best decision of the day. The hot, rich broth with a whole small chicken stuffed with rice and ginseng root restored our strength instantly.

After descending, we visited Jeungingsa Temple, located right within the park boundaries. It was very quiet, with only the sound of wind chimes. We spent the evening near Chonnam National University. Life is buzzing there, with lots of affordable food and noisy crowds. We had dinner featuring cheonggukjan—a soybean paste soup that smells as intense as hongeo but tastes amazing. Another night in the same spot, preparing to move to a different district.

Day 4: Penguin Village and Ori-tang Duck Soup

We moved to a hanok guesthouse—a traditional Korean house. This was a mandatory part of our program. Paper walls, heated floors (ondol), and minimal furniture. The neighborhood was very quiet and cozy. Our first stop was Penguin Village. It’s not an actual village but an art quarter where old houses are decorated with murals and installations made from recycled materials. A very atmospheric place for a walk.

Lunch was planned in the "Ori-tang Alley" (Duck Soup Street). Gwangju is famous for its ori-tang. It’s a thick duck soup with a large amount of perilla seeds, making it creamy and very aromatic. In the place we chose, there was no English menu, but we didn't need one—they only cooked one dish. They brought us a huge pot and heaps of minari (water parsley) to keep adding to the boiling broth.

We spent the rest of the day hunting for local vinyl shops. We found one tiny basement where the elderly owner played old 70s Korean rock for us. It was magical. We had a dinner of gimbap bought from a GS25 convenience store—even there, the food was at the level of a good cafe. The evening in the hanok was spent discussing how different Gwangju is from the stereotypical image of Korea. We slept on floor mattresses—surprisingly comfortable.

Day 5: A Trip to the Boseong Tea Plantations

On the fifth day, we decided to leave the city for a bit and rented a car. Our destination was the Boseong tea plantations, about an hour's drive away. It's an incredible sight: endless green terraces descending toward the sea. We walked through the Daehan Dawon plantation, drank freshly brewed green tea, and tried matcha ice cream. In June, the greenery there is especially vibrant.

The day's gastronomy was all about tea. For lunch, we found a restaurant serving pork raised on green tea leaves and noodles made with tea powder. The flavor was subtle with a slight bitterness. After the plantations, we stopped by the coast, breathed in the sea air, and watched fishermen hauling in nets.

Returning to Gwangju, we felt like the city had become almost like home. For dinner, we went to the "1913 Songjeong Station Market." This is a reconstructed old market turned into a hipster space. We tried everything: from fried mandu dumplings to gyeran-ppan (egg bread). It was fun and loud. We stayed another night at the hanok, enjoying the quiet courtyard.

Day 6: Songjeong and the Famous Tteokgalbi

The sixth day began with exploring the Songjeong district. We came here specifically to try tteokgalbi—grilled meat patties made from minced beef and pork ribs marinated in a sweet sauce. This dish is Gwangju's calling card. We chose a restaurant that has been operating since the 1950s. Along with the patties, they served us a huge bowl of bone broth with ribs for free.

The meat literally melted in our mouths. We understood why people travel from other cities just for this. After such a heavy lunch, we needed to walk. We headed to the Asia Culture Center (ACC). It’s a grand modern building that goes underground. There was a media art exhibition that completely mesmerized us. Gwangju positions itself as a city of arts, and this place is direct proof.

In the evening, we tried to have a "day without Korean food," but ended up in a Korean bakery buying sausage rolls and cream buns. Koreans know how to turn any pastry into a work of art, even if the combinations are sometimes strange (like garlic bread with sugar). We walked through Sajik Park and climbed the observatory tower, which overlooks the city lights. We stayed at the same guesthouse.

Day 7: Remembrance and Modern History

The seventh day was dedicated to history. We couldn't ignore the fact that Gwangju is a city with a strong spirit of freedom. We went to the May 18th National Cemetery. The place is very powerful, solemn, and sad. It helped us better understand the mentality of the locals—they are very proud of their city and their history of fighting for democracy. We spent several hours there, just walking in silence.

Lunch was modest—naengmyeon (cold noodles). In the summer heat, it’s a lifesaver. The noodles are served in an icy broth with pieces of pear and cucumber. We found a place where they hand-make the noodles from buckwheat flour. The tingling sensation from the cold and the spice of the mustard was exactly what we needed after an emotionally heavy morning. After lunch, we went to the Gwangju Museum of Art to see works by local artists.

In the evening, we returned to the center and stumbled upon a street dance festival. A huge number of young people, music, and incredible energy. We bought some fried chicken from a stall and ate it right on the steps of the cultural center while watching the battles. This contrast—from the cemetery to the dancing—is the essence of Korea. We spent the night in an apartment we booked for the final days in the northern part of the city.

Day 8: Juknokwon Bamboo Grove in Damyang

Another short excursion outside the city, this time to the neighboring town of Damyang. This place is famous for its bamboo forests. The Juknokwon grove is a true green ocean. We wandered the paths among giant bamboo stalks that creaked in the wind. It was very meditative. We even tried bamboo tea and bought some bamboo souvenirs.

Damyang's main dish is daetong-bap—rice cooked inside a bamboo tube with nuts and dried fruits. The rice absorbs the aroma of the wood and becomes very sticky and delicious. It was served with a set of twenty different side dishes. We sat in a restaurant overlooking the river and felt like characters in a historical drama. We also tried "guksu" noodles, which are traditionally eaten outdoors by the water in Damyang.

Back in Gwangju, we decided to visit a traditional Korean sauna—a jjimjilbang. This was quite the quest. We spent about four hours there: steaming in salt rooms, lying on hot stones, and drinking sikhye (a sweet rice drink). It's the best way to relieve fatigue. We came out feeling reborn. We had a late dinner of fried squid near the station. Night at the new apartment.

Day 9: The Quest for the Perfect Bibimbap

While Jeonju is considered the birthplace of bibimbap, Gwangju has its own version, and many debate which is better. We headed to an old district where, according to Naver reviews (the Korean search engine we had mastered by then), there was a restaurant with 40 years of history. In Gwangju, bibimbap is often served with yukhoe—raw beef. It was a bold choice but incredibly tasty.

We dedicated the whole day to shopping, but not the usual kind—gastronomic shopping. We looked for local gochujang paste and the highest quality dried seaweed. We visited the Shinsegae department store, where the basement food court is a foodie’s paradise. We sampled everything imaginable, from elite fruits to craft beer. We bought several bottles of soju from small distilleries.

In the evening, we had a picnic in Jungoe Park. There are many sculptures and beautiful alleys there. We sat on a blanket, eating our purchased delicacies and watching the sunset. A group of students approached us wanting to practice their English. We ended up chatting until dark; they told us about their favorite hidden spots in the city that aren't in guidebooks. Night at the apartment.

Day 10: The Final Feast and a Secret Bar

For our penultimate day, we saved the most unusual spot—Malbau Seafood Market. It's not a tourist place; you rarely see foreigners there. We bought fresh oysters and fish, which were prepared for us immediately in a small cafe around the corner. Prices were three times lower than in Seoul, and the freshness was beyond belief. The oysters were the size of a palm.

After lunch, we just walked aimlessly, entering every interesting courtyard. We found an old printing house converted into a coworking space and coffee shop. The city kept throwing up such surprises. We realized that Gwangju is a city for those who love details rather than scale. In the evening, following the students' advice, we found a "secret" bar with no sign in the Dongmyeong-dong area—a neighborhood full of cool cafes nicknamed "Gwangju-ridan.".

The bar served cocktails based on traditional Korean infusions. We sat there until closing, discussing everything we had seen over these 10 days. It was the perfect final evening: good music, great drinks, and the company of best friends. We felt we had fully completed our gastronomic program. We spent the night packing suitcases, trying to fit in all the purchased sauces and tea.

Day 11: Farewell to the City of Flavors

The morning of our last day was lazy. We checked out of the apartment and went to breakfast at that very first coffee shop we liked. We drank coffee and watched the city wake up. It was a bit sad to leave. We stopped by the market one last time to buy hot red bean buns for the road.

Our last lunch in Gwangju was a simple soybean sprout soup—kongnamul-gukbap. It’s a light and clean dish that Koreans often eat to "calm the stomach." It was symbolic: we started with a massive table of dozens of dishes and ended with simple, honest food. We sat at the station, watching the bustle, and promised ourselves we'd return to Jeolla province one day to explore it even further.

The trip to the airport passed in a half-slumber. We looked through food photos and realized that over these 11 days, we hadn't just eaten our fill, but had touched an important part of the Korean soul. Gwangju didn't try to please us; it just lived its life, and that was the most valuable thing. We flew away with a sense of accomplishment and bags full of culinary souvenirs.

Why Gwangju is Love Through the Stomach

If someone asks me if Gwangju is worth visiting, I’d say—only if you're ready for food to be the main event of your day. This isn't a city for checking off UNESCO sites in two hours. It’s a city for a slow immersion. We absolutely loved the lack of tourist crowds and the genuine friendliness of the locals. People here are simpler and more open than in the capital; they are proud of their region and always ready to help, even if they don't know a word of English.

What didn't we like? Perhaps only that without knowing at least basic Korean phrases or how to use specific local apps, it can be a bit difficult. Google Maps is practically useless here; it doesn't show transport routes or many establishments. But that’s also part of the adventure. South Korea remains a country of contrasts, where high technology sits alongside markets where time seems to have stopped fifty years ago.

In the future, I’d like to return to this region in the fall to see Gwangju surrounded by red maples and to try seasonal dishes made from persimmons and chestnuts. This trip taught us that the most vivid impressions are often hidden where the well-trodden tourist paths don't lead. If you love to eat, love history, and aren't afraid to step outside your comfort zone—Gwangju is waiting for you. Just bring comfortable shoes and a very good appetite.