My destination today is Gangjin, where Seoul City Hall Amazones take on Gangjin Swans. Getting there is not exactly simple. First, I need a bus to Gwangju, then another bus to Gangjin. If everything goes according to plan, the trip will take about seven hours, lunch break included.
Like most long-distance bus journeys, there is a stop at a highway service area along the way. This one is near Gongju. It looks much like every other service area on a weekend. Buses and cars flow steadily through the parking lot while travellers hurry between their vehicles and the main building.
Outside, food vendors line the entrance for people who want something quick before getting back on the road. Inside, there are restaurants and plenty of tables for anyone looking for a proper meal.
I'd love to stand around taking photographs of all these creative knock-offs, but shop owners are rarely enthusiastic about that idea.
Wanting to make the most of the stop, I buy a snack. The best way I can describe it is a flat, cone-shaped pastry filled with sweet potato. It's surprisingly good, and I make a mental note to look for one again on the journey home.
I planned to have lunch in Gwangju, but the snack left me with little appetite. It's a shame because several of the restaurants around the terminal look quite tempting. Instead, I buy one of nature's travel foods—a banana—and put it in my bag for later.
Having spent most of my life in Korea in smaller cities in Gyeonggi-do, I tend to think of places in simple terms. You either drive across town in twenty minutes, or you spend hours trying to cross Seoul. I often forget how large cities like Gwangju really are.
When I finally arrive in Gangjin, however, there is no mistaking that I am in a much smaller town.
The terminal is almost silent. There are no buses waiting to depart. Four people sit scattered around the waiting area, each several metres from the next, none of them saying a word.
Outside, the streets are equally quiet. For the most part, I can simply cross the road whenever I want without waiting for traffic.
I still have plenty of time before kick-off, so I stop at my motel to drop off my luggage. From there, I decided to walk to the stadium rather than take a bus. Walking gives me the freedom to stop whenever something catches my eye, and small towns are always more interesting when explored at walking pace.
The most interesting sights in the area are actually outside the town itself, but unfortunately, I have no time to go see the sights. On the way to the stadium, I come across a traditional-style building advertising a Buddhist temple food experience. Unfortunately, it appears to be closed, and I can't find any information about opening times or prices.
A little further along, I pass what appears to be Gangjin's only large supermarket, a Nonghyup Hanaro Mart. I can't say for certain that it is the only one in town, but it certainly feels that way.
Nonghyup, Korea's agricultural cooperative, has a strong presence here. Their logo appears repeatedly as I walk through town, and a quick look at the map reveals Nonghyup banks and ATMs scattered all over the area. It even appears that one of their regional offices is located in Gangjin.
Eventually, my wandering brings me to the sports complex, which turns out to be a collection of football grounds.
Next to it is a field called Hummel Ground. The pitch looks immaculate. The grass has been carefully cut with visible patterns across the surface, and it appears ready for a match. Oddly enough, there are no field markings.
The pitch hosting today's match is located at the far end of the complex. Like the others, it is well-maintained. Even the unused areas of grass look immaculate. The layout is a little unusual.
The team dugouts are positioned on the far side of the field, and each dressing room sits directly behind its respective bench. When I say directly behind, I mean a player could take two steps and touch the dressing room door.
The windows appear to be covered with one-way reflective glass. Looking at them from the stands, I can't help wondering whether players ever mistake their own reflections for someone standing nearby.
The lower level features raised wooden platforms where spectators can sit picnic-style while watching the match. There is also enough room to stand or set up a folding chair. The biggest advantage here is proximity to the pitch. From here, you are almost as close to the action as the coaching staff on the opposite touchline. If this were my local ground, I suspect I would spend most of my time down there.
The upper level is more of a traditional seating area, although "seating" might be generous. It is essentially made up of two large plastic "wood" steps.
WK League culture usually dictates that supporters gather behind their own team's bench, or opposite it when that is not possible. The Gangjin supporters seem unconcerned with such conventions. They spread themselves across both sides of the stand without much thought.
Personally, I don't mind. I grew up watching sports where opposing supporters regularly sit together without issue. What I do worry about is being the only Seoul supporter in attendance.
The view from the upper level is mostly excellent. The elevation gives a good perspective of the match. There is one problem, though.
Because the stand is positioned so close to the field, the edge of the structure blocks the near touchline from view. Whenever play happens along the near touch line, we lose sight of the ball and players entirely. Perhaps Gangjin could solve the issue by making the pitch slightly narrower. Not every football field has to be exactly the same width, after all.
As kick-off approaches, more spectators begin to arrive. One thing immediately catches my eye. Many of them are wearing shirts from Gwangju FC.
That strikes me as slightly odd. You don't see supporters turning up to Seoul Amazones matches wearing FC Seoul shirts. Then again, Gwangju are by far the biggest club in the region, and Gangjin is only about an hour away, so perhaps it makes perfect sense.
As mentioned earlier, I'm here for the 2026 WK League Round 11 match in which Gangjin Swans host Seoul Amazones.
Neither side comes into the match in particularly good form. Since losing to Seoul earlier in the season, Gangjin managed one victory against Suwon but lost their next four matches. Seoul's results have been slightly better, alternating between wins and losses.
Goals have been hard to come by for both teams. They sit at the bottom of the scoring charts, with Gangjin only marginally ahead of Seoul. With those statistics in mind, I can only hope today's match doesn't end in a frustrating 0-0 draw.
A few weeks ago, I designed a small banner and had it printed. I didn't bring it to the previous match, but today I am determined to use it. Calling it a banner might even be generous. It is tiny. Still, it is the perfect size for one person to hold, and at Seoul's compact home ground, it should be surprisingly easy to spot when tied to the railing.
When the teams walk onto the pitch, I gather every gram of courage I possess and hold it up.
This is not really the kind of supporter I am. I have never been the chanting, banner-waving type. I prefer to sit quietly and only start making noises when something interesting happens on the field. But this season is about following Seoul Amazones as closely as possible, and this is part of the experience.
Just before kick-off, a small group arrives and takes up position behind me. It soon becomes clear that they are also supporting Seoul. Our numbers immediately increase from one to roughly seven.
I would like to introduce myself, but I remain strangely intimidated by the idea of speaking Korean with strangers. My fear is that someone will hear me say a simple sentence and respond with an entire dictionary's worth of Korean that I don't understand.
As a side note, I have been putting a lot of effort into improving my Korean recently. For the past three months, I have studied for one or two hours every day. My Duolingo score has climbed from just under 20 to 35. According to Duolingo I know enough to order food. I am hoping to reach 60 by the middle of August, which, supposedly, should be enough to have simple conversations.
I know Duolingo has plenty of critics, but I've tried books, classes, and videos. Everything failed because I did not put in the effort or never used what I learned. This time I am definitely putting in the effort, and I try to practise with my wife whenever possible.
She assures me that my Korean has improved dramatically. Of course, she may simply be saying that because she enjoys receiving fresh coffee every morning.
The other Seoul supporters never acknowledge my presence, but I can hardly blame them when I am doing exactly the same thing. I think I need to make it a personal goal to greet at least two people at the next home match.
Fortunately, the football gives everyone a distraction from each other.
The match is competitive from start to finish. Seoul look like the stronger side for most of the afternoon, but Gangjin create enough chances to keep things interesting.
Much of the first half takes place in Gangjin's half of the field. Seoul apply constant pressure while Gangjin occasionally produce flashes of quality that suddenly move the ball to the opposite end. The problem is consistency. Those moments never last quite long enough to produce a goal.
Gangjin respond not long after when a quick turn just outside the penalty area creates enough space for a powerful shot across the goal. The effort beats the goalkeeper but crashes against the post and rebounds away.
Just before half-time, Seoul strikes again. Gang Tae-Gyeong receives the ball just outside the box with far too much space. A defender rushes out to close her down, but she calmly guides the ball into the top corner beyond the goalkeeper's reach. It is a wonderful finish.
During the match, some of the home supporters try to start chants for Gangjin. Unfortunately, they commit one of my personal football pet peeves. Instead of using the simple one-syllable word "Swans", they stretch it into "Soo-won-seu".
Why do teams insist on choosing English names that supporters seem unable to pronounce properly? Would it really be so terrible to call the team Gangjin Baekjo? Is a Korean name for a team really such a crime?
Early in the second half, Gangjin finally find a way back into the match through Gwak Ro-Yeong. For a while, it feels like the momentum might be shifting. Seoul, however, hold firm and sees out the victory.
Yet again, I finish watching a match involving Gangjin with a positive impression. Last season, when the club was based in Changnyeong, there were times when they seemed to lose hope once things started going wrong. This version of the team feels different. They continue fighting until the final whistle, and that resilience makes them easy to respect.
After the match, I head back to my hotel. Earlier in the day scouted the restaurants in the area. The only one that really caught my attention specialises in dishes meant for groups rather than individuals. I quickly abandoned that plan to eat at a restaurant and settled for spicy fried chicken instead. It was an excellent decision.
Back in my room, I demolish the chicken while watching the championship match of 골 때리는 그녀들. For those unfamiliar with it, the show brings together entertainers and celebrities, places them into themed teams and has them compete in a modified futsal competition. It is surprisingly entertaining and makes for a perfect end to the day.
The following morning, I wake up early with a very specific goal. Gamjatang for breakfast.
There is a restaurant practically next door to my hotel, but when I arrive, it is closed. Closed! What kind of gamjatang restaurant closes in the morning?
These places are called "hangover soup" restaurants for a reason. People spend Saturday night drinking. Sunday morning is exactly when people need them. More important than their hangovers, I need breakfast.
In the end, I am forced to visit a convenience store. My breakfast consists of pre-made eggy rice eaten at a table outside the convenience store.
The table to my left holds a nearly full can of beer and an open bag of chips that look barely touched. The table to my right has a cup of coffee that appears to have received exactly one sip before being abandoned. It is a strangely memorable breakfast setting.
While I eat, an elderly woman pushing a small trolley decides to take a break nearby. She studies me for a moment, rummages through her trolley and offers me a half-full bottle of water.
It is a very kind gesture. I thank her and politely decline, explaining that I already have an unopened bottle in my bag.
After that, not much happens. It is still early. There are no buses at the terminal, and only a handful of people are waiting. I join them and watch the television, which is showing the Club World Cup. I could not tell you, nor do I care, who is playing. The most exciting event during the wait is two women arriving just in time to watch their bus pull away without them.
The journey home is almost a perfect copy of the trip to Gangjin.
With this trip complete, I have now visited four of the seven possible away grounds on Seoul's schedule.
Hopefully, I can still make it to Sejong later in the season. And with a little luck, a postponed fixture might create an opportunity to visit either Hwacheon or Gyeongju as well.
2026.06.13 - Gangjin Swans WFC 1:2 Seoul City Hall Amazones WFC
Round 11 Results
Suwon FC Women 6-0 Sejong Sportstoto
Gangjin Swans 1-2 Seoul City Hall Amazones
Mungyeong Sangmu 0-3 Gyeongju KHNP
Incheon Hyunsai Steel Red Angels - Hwacheon KSPO (Postponed until 2026.08.11)
| Team | Played | Points |
|---|---|---|
| 1. Suwon | 9 | 21 |
| 2. Hwacheon | 9 | 19 |
| 3. Incheon | 10 | 16 |
| 4. Mungyeong | 10 | 16 |
| 5. Sejong | 11 | 15 |
| 6. Seoul | 10 | 12 |
| 7. Gyeongju | 11 | 11 |
| 8. Gangjin | 10 | 7 |
Queen of the Round:
To be decided
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