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ArtistThat is the absolute magic of a truly great travel memory—and Fernweh is the perfect word for it. It is that deep, almost painful ache for a far-off place you weren’t born in, but where a piece of your soul still feels right at home. You are homesick for a version of Busan that is actively slipping away, which makes that longing feel even sharper. You miss the heavy smell of sea salt and diesel by the docks, the blinding steam from a wok hitting a scoop of gochujang, the burning calves from climbing stairs built by refugees, and the chaotic, unscripted warmth of strangers sharing a drink in the dark.
A photograph capturing an outdoor daytime scene features a group of four people, three men and one woman, seated at a silver-topped table set up on a high terrace overlooking a body of water and a coastal village. The people are eating hot food from a large shallow round wok or pan placed on a central burner in the middle of the table, from which white steam rises into the air, partially obscuring the woman seated behind it. The woman wears a dark-colored hooded jacket and a dark baseball cap, and she uses chopsticks to handle the food in the pan. To her left sits a man seen from the back, dressed in a dark-colored jacket and dark hair. To her right sit two men; one closer to the camera wears a black t-shirt and black baseball cap, holding a dark blue beverage in a glass in his right hand. The other man, further to the right, wears a grey t-shirt and has short dark hair. The table is laden with various dishes containing food, small bowls of sauces, chopsticks, and glasses of beverages. The terrace has a metal railing, and behind it, a colorful coastal village unfolds, with tightly packed houses painted in various hues like white, blue,
