Daegu – South Korea’s answer to Basingstoke but why every cyclist should stop there

Any tour operator worth his salt will tell a cyclist pedaling the 633km from Seoul to Busan to give Daegu an extremely wide berth. Suambo? Sign up immediately, Yeoju, Sanju and Namji? Even better. But Daegu - much like Basingstoke - should be avoided at all costs.

For a start, to enter Daegu from the Four River’s cycle path you have to navigate a 17-exit roundabout with multiple lanes of traffic and several confusing underpasses. One extremely irate Belgian cyclist had, I suspect, been going round for days. But, if you crack that and pop out on the Gwan-mun Dong Bridge suddenly the entire city is laid out in front of you. Eight lanes of traffic snake over the Geumhogang River and into the sprawling skyscrapers beyond. Towering, white, and stretching as far as the eye can see they have about as much architectural charm as Romford.  

However, enter the city and you’re in for a treat. I always get a kick out of sailing down a city cycle path built into a wide, tree-lined pavement and Daegu offers you just that. Pedaling along you’re firmly out of the tourist zone and smack in the middle of ordinary everyday life. Business men walk along with cups of coffee, school children chatter in matching uniforms and women drag heavy shopping trolleys behind them, bulging full of dried fish and the world’s most gigantic apples.

Anyway, lets down to the nitty gritty shall we? As an experienced trans-Korean cyclist (did it once, now think I’m an expert) there are five reasons as to why any self-respecting biker should stop in Daegu. Let’s take a look through the Square Window at the top of the 70’s skyscraper shall we? 

1.  The Bakeries

Once you’ve been cycling for four days through rural Korea by day five you’re ready to ditch the spicy fish-intestine stew for a day and eat a gigantic croissant or five. And Daegu has an enormous number of bakeries, one on every street corner to be precise.

As a hungry cyclist walking into a warm bakery, stuffed full of every type of bread, pastry and coffee variety it’s a religious experience. Spend a morning bakery-hopping. It’s a great way to pack in caffeine, calories, and practice your poor Korean on a number of extremely patient baristas.

2. The Coin Laundry

Chances are that after 386 kilometers from Seoul to Daegu your cycle kit is in need of a little freshen-up. And, I can tell you, English launderettes could learn a thing or two from the Koreans.  The coin laundry at 157 Janggi-ro is a launderette like no other. Not only can you wash your stinking Lycra but there is obviously a giant freezer of ice-creams (I could have put my shorts through all seven programs while I just sat in the freezer and ate).

Plus, trying to understand the machines with all Korean instructions and a bad translation app is endless amounts of fun.

3. The supermarket

Fruit is not something you find in abundance on Korean cycle-path stalls. Markets are invariably on a different day to the night you’re arriving in town and, while you sometimes pass farm stalls they only sell fruit by the crate – not that easy to fit on a bike. By day four of any cycle trip you’re therefore desperate for a smattering of Vitamin C.

Follow any lady with an empty shopping trolley in Daegu and you’ll soon find yourself at a supermarket. Aside from the dried squid and roasted eggs there is lots and lots of lovely fruit. Yes, a bunch of grapes will cost you a tenner, but trust me, by this stage in the trip you’d pay anything to eat something green.

4.  A Good Quality Love Hotel

Cycling across Korea on a budget one of the best accommodation options is the Love Hotel. These marvelous establishments, despite looking extremely dodgy from the outside, are spotless, safe and offer large rooms with comfortable beds and plentiful hot water – essential for tired legs. There is complimentary cheap perfume in the lobby and condoms in the bedroom.

The Stay Love Hotel in Daegu has all these – but a mirrored ceiling to boot! Bonus! And, if that isn’t enough it is situated right above a TNT depot. So, you can not only listen to the trucks coming and going from 2am but, at 4am admire your knackered face in the dim light of dawn on the mirrored ceiling. Now tell me that that isn’t worth a stop for?

5.  Leaving

After two days in Daegu washing, eating, not sleeping and trying to go the wrong way on the subway to see a city center that isn’t worth seeing you get to leave. By now you know the cycle path to the bridge, how to navigate the ten lanes of traffic and complicated gyratory system which the Belgian cyclist has now died in. After a couple of miles you’re out of the air that gave you a suspicious cough (is it a cold or irritation from the questionable smoke rising from that industrial estate?), back to the cycle path and paddy fields and the sparkling waters of the Nakdonggang River.

Daegu is good, an essential stop and rest, but leaving? Well, much like leaving Basingstoke, you’re not exactly weeping as you do so.