Romance in Real Life: Gyeongju

Photo source: https://lorrynsmit.photography/damyang-hanbok-pre-wedding-edward-and-lynn/

18. Gyeongju, South Korea

When I imagine myself in Gyeongju, South Korea, my heart slows as if it’s savouring the kind of beauty that lingers in the air like a soft song. As a hopeless romantic, I picture wandering through Bulguksa Temple, its ancient wooden beams and golden rooftops reflecting in still ponds, each corner whispering stories of devotion and quiet longing. I can almost hear the soft echo of footsteps across stone paths, the air scented faintly with incense, and feel that timelessness wrapping around me like a lover’s embrace.

I dream of strolling hand in hand around Anapji Pond, the water perfectly mirroring the traditional pavilions and night lights, turning each glance into something magical. Lanterns shimmer, and the air carries a gentle chill that only makes the closeness of another heart feel warmer.

In my daydreams, romance drifts into the past as well as the present. I wander along Tumuli Park, where ancient royal tombs rise like gentle hills, their quiet dignity making me think that love, like history, can endure. I picture riding a bike through the Gyeongju Historic Areas, the golden fields of rice swaying alongside, the sun setting slowly over Cheomseongdae Observatory, casting a soft glow that feels like a private universe shared with someone special.

Evenings are tender in Gyeongju. I imagine sipping tea in a hanok-style teahouse near Hwangnidan-gil, watching lanterns reflect on the cobblestones, every corner offering intimacy and quiet smiles. In Gyeongju, romance isn’t rushed or flashy; it’s a lingering melody in the air, in the water, in the shadows of history itself.

To a hopeless romantic like me, Gyeongju is proof that love can be found in quiet moments, where the past and present intertwine, and every stone, pond, and temple seems to invite the heart to linger just a little longer.