A Seoul office worker quits to run a guesthouse in Andong's Hahoe Village. Chapter 4 revisits an old friend's radical travel funding trick—and plants the seed for his own leap.
Writer Jung Seung-ho, Seoul Dalbit Guesthouse
Editor Somora, ONDA Manager
Seoul Dalbit Guesthouse Dongdaemun (Main) Address: 329-18 Changsin-dong, Jongno-gu, Seoul Room types: Small Twin, Small Double, Standard Twin Amenities: Shared living room & kitchen, rooftop garden Nearby: Naksan Park, Heunginjimun Gate, DDP, Changsin-dong toy district, Dongmyo flea market
Seoul Dalbit Guesthouse DDP (Branch) Address: 74 Jangchung-dong 2-ga, Jung-gu, Seoul Room types: Double, Family rooms (3-, 4-, 6-person) Amenities: Shared living room & kitchen, rooftop garden Nearby: Jangchung Gymnasium, Namsan, Gwanghuimun Gate, Cheonggyecheon Stream
Seoul Dalbit Guesthouse SNS Website: http://seouldalbit.com Instagram: @seoul_dalbit
04. Dreaming It Up
– Watching real money flow in real time
Photo by Ryoji Iwata on Unsplash
"Hey — wanna do something fun together?"
A college friend of mine once spent a year and a half traveling the world — Southeast Asia, West Asia, Europe, Africa, South America, East Asia, you name it.
These days, thanks to platforms and smartphones, living the nomad life isn't that rare. But back in the mid-2000s? That kind of trip was radical. Even planning a one-week DIY trip meant hours scrolling travel forums or thumbing through a worn Lonely Planet.
What really blew my mind wasn't the itinerary — it was how he funded the trip. He got seed money from family, sure. But then he pitched a publisher on real-time travel writing in exchange for sponsorship. And on top of that, he ran a crowdfunding campaign among his friends.
The pitch deck he used to raise money. Basically proto-crowdfunding.
He went person to person with a pitch deck: "Invest in my future. Invest in a life-changing experience." The rewards? Not financial. Just a few copies of the book he'd publish afterward. But the audacity alone made it a conversation piece. Some people scoffed — "This is just begging with extra steps." Others loved it. I was in the second camp. I threw in ₩100,000 — big money for a college student. Not for the book. To back a friend's bold plan. To vicariously live the trip. Looking back now, it was basically crowdfunding before crowdfunding.
That's who this guy was: bold, relentless, always talking about starting his own thing. So when I started thinking about launching a business, he was the first person I thought of. I was planning to open a guesthouse for foreign travelers — and here was someone who'd spent 18 months staying in every kind of accommodation imaginable.
So I texted him out of the blue: "Wanna do something fun together?"
We met in Dongdaemun the following weekend. After the briefest of catch-ups, I laid it out:
▪ Tourists visiting Dongdaemun are lugging their bags 2–3 km to their lodging.
▪ There's clearly demand right here.
▪ I want to open a guesthouse or hostel — mid-budget, friendly, aimed at international travelers.
He got excited immediately. Said he was in. He'd crashed in hostels all over the world — this was his territory.
Since we were already in Dongdaemun, we decided to go see the demand for ourselves. We'd visit 6–7 properties within a 1–2 km radius of Dongdaemun Market and Heunginjimun Gate — guesthouses, hostels, serviced residences. We even drafted a little script so we'd get consistent intel:
"I have a friend from [country]. They're visiting Seoul next weekend."
"Looking for a place near Dongdaemun. Do you have rooms?"
"What room types do you have? How much?"
"Where are most of your guests from?"
"Can I see a room?"
The script worked. We were awkward at the first hostel, but by the third or fourth stop we were smooth. Two hours later, we'd surveyed seven properties.
Tour buses lined up in downtown Seoul, 2015. They vanished in 2017 due to diplomatic tensions, but came roaring back in 2018.
And the potential? Staggering.
Every single place — 100% of them — said they were either sold out for the weekend or down to one or two rooms. Not just small hostels. Even a 10-story, 50-room serviced residence. Guesthouses, hostels, residences — didn't matter. ₩40,000/night or ₩100,000/night — didn't matter. Everyone was turning people away.
And then there were the streets themselves. English, Japanese, Mandarin everywhere. Tour buses lined up bumper-to-bumper. When we asked about guest demographics, staff said the area drew Chinese, Japanese, Taiwanese, Thai, and Malaysian shoppers.
This was a real market.
It was the moment tourism hospitality clicked from "interesting idea" to "I can see the money moving."
[Series Index]
2019.01 Prologue 2019.02 Eyes Open 2019.03 Dreaming It Up 2019.04 Watching 2019.05 Planning 2019.06 Meeting 2019.07 The Thrill 2019.08 Breathing Room 2019.09 The Numbers 2019.10 Lost 2019.11 Breaking Ground 2019.12 Taking Shape 2020.01 Grand Opening 2020.02 Epilogue — The Resignation
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