I was supposed to start streaming at 10 AM, but when I opened my bag at the train station in Gwangju, the phone I use for broadcasting wasn’t there. I had left my iPhone at home. I had a backup foldable phone with me, so I decided to just go live on that instead, even though the video quality was rough and the frame rate kept stuttering. Viewers immediately noticed.
They asked why the screen was shaking, why it looked like 10-year-old streaming quality, why I was moving like a broken robot. I laughed it off, told them I’d forgotten my phone and that today was going to be a “no map, no phone” kind of day. I said I’d just wander around, ask strangers for directions, and try to enjoy the old-school feeling of getting lost. I walked out of the station into a heatwave.
It was nearly 42 degrees. I had no navigation app, no map, nothing. I decided to ask a local where I could find a raw fish market. An older man gave me directions: go straight, turn left, walk two blocks.
I thanked him and kept going. The streets were lined with newer apartment buildings. Everything looked unfamiliar. I passed by a café and decided to stop in for a cold drink, partly to escape the heat and partly because I had time to kill before the fish market opened at 11.
I ordered a blueberry juice, sat down, and kept the stream going. A few viewers joked that I should interview the café owner since I was already there. I laughed at first. But then I thought about it.
I do interviews with small business owners as part of my content. Why not? I asked the young woman behind the counter if she’d be open to answering a few questions. She hesitated, then nervously said yes.
She was 22 years old. The café had only been open for about a month. She played hip-hop in the background, which matched the vintage, graffiti-style decor. I asked what her signature item was.
She said the waffles. Vanilla waffle with ice cream. I ordered one to try it myself, though I noted that 6,000 won had just been deducted from my budget. She told me the café opened at 9 AM and closed at 8 PM, every day.
I asked how she got into this business. She shrugged. It just happened, she said. She’d grown up around it, and now she was running her own place with her younger sister helping out during school break.
I thanked her for the interview and the waffle, then stepped back outside into the heat. My viewers were having fun with the low-quality stream. They kept asking if I’d found a phone yet. I joked that I’d just have to survive on my foldable phone for the rest of the day.
The screen wobbled, the sound lagged, but I kept going. I started heading toward the fish market again. The sun was brutal. Sweat kept dripping down my face.
At one point, I picked up my foldable phone and said, “This thing eats battery like crazy. ” A viewer typed in chat: “How much does that thing cost anyway? ” I laughed and said I wasn’t sure, but it was worth it just to see everyone’s reaction. I finally found the market.
There were rows of stalls with fresh octopus, shrimp, and all kinds of seafood. I walked around, soaking it in, and then spotted a raw fish restaurant. The owner had just opened for the day. I asked if I could sit down for a meal.
They said yes. As the meal arrived, I took a breath. I had come all the way from Changwon, spent two hours on the subway, forgotten my phone, wandered around a city I’d never visited before with no map, interviewed a random café owner on a shaky live stream, and now I was finally about to eat the raw fish I’d been craving. I looked at the camera and said, “Well, I guess this is today’s content.
Getting lost and eating my way through a new city. ”