When Apps Disappeared, Travel Began
We live inside apps.
Recently, I watched a Korean YouTube program called PungHyanggo 2.
It’s a small project from a popular talk show in Korea.
The concept is simple.
Travel without apps.
No Google Maps.
No translation apps.
No weather check.
No hotel reservations.
Only a paper map and a few basic notes prepared by the staff.
Four middle-aged Korean men travel through Vienna and Budapest this way.
No bookings, no shortcuts, no planning.
They drag their suitcases through the cold for hours looking for a hotel.
They wait in line for restaurants but sometimes cannot get in.
Even exchanging money takes time.
Plans keep changing.
And yet, while watching,
I felt strangely warm.
I am 34 years old.
I belong to the generation in between analog and digital.
I remember a time without apps.
And I remember the confusion when smartphones first appeared.
When I was in college,
some people had smartphones,
and some people didn’t.
Some used internet messaging,
others still sent simple text messages.
A few years later, the world changed completely.
Now, if you don’t make a reservation,
you often have to wait
or you cannot use the service at all.
When I go to the bank,
I take a number through an app before I arrive.
Inside, older people still pull paper tickets and wait.
Sometimes it feels like I cut the line,
even when I didn’t.
One day I waited for an airport bus with my mother.
I checked the app first.
There were no seats left.
We had to take a taxi to another stop
just to catch the bus.
Convenience has grown,
but so has something else.
A quiet pressure
to always check,
always prepare,
always be ready.
Watching PungHyanggo 2
felt like stepping outside of that pressure.
Nothing was optimized.
Nothing was efficient.
But everything felt more alive.
When you don’t know exactly where you are going,
unexpected places, people, and moments appear.
I am not trying to promote this program.
I just realized
that I miss the feeling
of not knowing what comes next.
Of being a little uncomfortable.
Of letting the day move slowly.
Maybe someday,
I will turn off my phone
and let the wind decide the direction.