✈️ Traveling to South Korea: An Honest Model Dog Adventure
- Stephenie
- May 5
- 11 min read
Updated: May 6
If you're reading this, welcome to the chaotic, heartfelt, and occasionally awkward journey of my trip to South Korea for the Korean Kennel Club's model dog competition.
This blog isn't just a scrapbook of where I went and what I did (though there will definitely be plenty of that). I'm also writing it for a bigger purpose — to help anyone who's thinking about traveling internationally for model dog competitions, but maybe feels a little overwhelmed or unsure about what to expect.
I'll be sharing the good, the meltdowns, and the awkward moments — because let’s be real, traveling across the world to compete with fake dogs isn’t exactly a normal life experience. And that’s exactly what makes it so amazing.
If you're curious about model dog grooming, competing, or just want to be part of a really supportive and growing community, I highly recommend joining the North American Model Dog Club on Facebook. We’re already gearing up for next year's show, and we’d love to see even more foreigners join in! (Seriously, come hang out. It’s a blast.)
One person you’ll hear a lot about is Harley, the Director of Foreign Affairs with the Korean Kennel Club, and also the unofficial MVP of the entire trip. She made the whole experience feel manageable, welcoming, and honestly? Kind of magical.
I'll be posting a day-by-day breakdown of the trip — covering everything from cultural differences, accessibility (physical and mental), budgeting, and all the things I wish someone had told me before I booked my flight.
So buckle up. It’s going to be a ride.
📝 Day 1: Daily Journal
Technically, we left for the airport on Tuesday, April 15th, because our flight was leaving at 12:30 AM. My husband played chauffeur and picked up my friend and travel buddy, Allison. Both of us were vibrating with anxiety — neither of us are exactly airport people, and throwing in "new country, don’t speak the language, no idea what we’re doing"? 10/10 panic, highly recommend.
Shockingly, airport security was a breeze. No full-body cavity search, no losing our shoes — a win. We boarded our 15-hour flight to Taipei and braced ourselves.
Honestly? It wasn’t bad. We mostly slept. We got exit row seats in economy, so it was tight but bearable. We only woke up once for a meal, which was shockingly good, and we immediately became obsessed with how adorable the silverware was. I stole a set to bring home for my business partner because obviously, that's what good friends do.
The layover in Taipei was smooth except trying to find our gate, because they had the flight listed wrong on the screen. Allison was super brave and asked not one, but two different people to make sure we were in the right place. (Meanwhile, I was mentally planning my funeral.)
Second flight: short and sweet. Which was good, because I had a manspreader next to me, and I was in the middle seat, living my worst life. By the time we landed at Incheon Airport, we were absolutely wrecked. Also: important life lesson — bring deodorant in your carry-on. I don't care how fancy your travel outfit is, you will smell like a swamp creature by the end of it.
Customs was easy. Bags were waiting for us. We even found Harley, the Director of Foreign Affairs (after joking that next time she needs a huge glittery banner, preferably with blinking lights). We waited a little while longer for another traveler — Maria, a judge from Spain, and possibly the most aggressively joyful person I’ve ever met. She greeted us with kisses on the cheeks, and honestly? 10/10 energy, would absolutely greet again.
Harley drove us to our hotel — Hotel Stavia — which was way fancier than the price suggested. Harley helped us check in, but the hotel staff were also super sweet and really tried to speak English with us.
Allison and I shared a room. Cool cultural thing: they have a little mini-room where you take your shoes off before entering. Not-so-cool cultural thing: apparently Korea is at war with air conditioning, and everywhere inside was BOILING. We struggled hard to figure out the AC (everything was in Korean), but shoutout to ChatGPT and Harley for saving our sweaty lives. Harley officially became my Korean mom within the first 24 hours.
More cultural lessons: There wasn’t a real door to the bathroom — just frosted glass stalls for the toilet and the shower. It was...an adjustment. But we worked out an unspoken "don’t make eye contact" rule and survived.
Also: bidets. Life-changing. Terrifying, but life-changing. I still wiped because trust issues, but my butt has never been so pampered.
And! Every hotel room had a full emergency escape system by the window — basically a harness setup so you could scale down the side of the building if you needed to.
WHY do we not have this in the U.S.?
I felt safer just knowing it was there (even if I was 99% sure I would have gotten tangled and made the news).
After unpacking a little, we took a solid nap, then got up for dinner with Harley, Maria, Emily (our team captain), and her son.
We went down the street to a Korean barbecue place, and it was our first real intro to Korean eating.
Observation: Koreans can eat like it's an Olympic sport. I would say I was surprised they’re not all 300 pounds, but honestly, I lost 8 pounds while I was there. I'm pretty sure it’s because all the food is fresh and barely processed. Also, their fruits and veggies are basically magical. Every grape. Every strawberry. Perfect. No "gamble with your life" produce like we have at home.
Dinner was amazing. Meat grilled right at the table, all sorts of side dishes. I was super excited to try cold noodle soup — tasted great, but unfortunately my digestive system was still on airplane mode and couldn't handle much yet.
That’s also the night I fell madly in love with plum tea and pickled radish. Big day for character development.
After dinner, we walked down to a manmade canal — and I swear, all someone needed was a sundress, an ice cream cone, and a hot Korean guy to make the perfect K-drama scene. It was ridiculously charming.
On the way back to the
hotel, we stopped at a few convenience stores. We tried a melon ice cream bar — at first I wasn’t sure about it, but by the time I finished, it had me in a full emotional attachment. Would risk it all for another one.
We finally made it back to the hotel and immediately faceplanted into bed. End of Day 1.
🌏 Cultural Differences – Day 1
Because Harley handled most of our check-in process, I didn’t really notice anything too different there — I basically handed over my card and vibed. But right away, I started picking up on little cultural things that were way different from what I’m used to.
First off: people are so loosey-goosey with their personal items. I had read that South Korea has very little petty crime, but it didn’t really click until I saw people just... leaving their purses unattended on tables. Or leaving stuff sitting out in front of shops. And a ton of places were fully self-serve — like, check yourself out, bag your own stuff, and leave. Of course, Big Brother is absolutely watching, but honestly, I carry a tracking device in my pocket every day at home too, so... same energy.
Outside, the weather was beautiful. Inside? A furnace. I must have sweat out a solid 8 pounds just existing indoors. Apparently cold is the enemy in Korea — and the buildings are winning the war on AC.
That said, I loved the little mudroom area in our hotel room where we could take our shoes off before stepping into the room. I am a barefoot girlie through and
through, and nothing grosses me out faster than someone stomping through a hotel room in nasty outside shoes. Especially if there's carpet.
(WHY.)
The bathroom setup was weird but not completely insane. For a room with one bed, I guess it makes sense that the toilet and shower are in glass stalls with only frosted privacy — the assumption is probably “eh, you’re close.” It was definitely echoey, though, so I turned the sink water on any time I had to go. Also, shoutout to the bathtub I wanted to use but didn’t because it was smack dab in the middle of the open-concept bathroom, right in view of the door. Unfortunate placement for a relaxing soak.
In the hotel, the toilets were western-style, but in a lot of older buildings, there were trash cans for used toilet paper — which, I’ll be honest, kind of put me in poop-shy mode. Bidets, though? A journey. I was not prepared for how powerful those things are. Watch where you aim. And don’t fully trust Google Translate for button labels — some of the phrases it gave me made it sound like the toilet was trying to threaten me. ChatGPT was actually better for figuring out what each button did.
Our first meal in Korea was at a barbecue place, and
I’m pretty sure Harley knows everyone who works there because we walked in like we owned the joint. The meal was very family-style — they brought out a ton of side dishes for us to taste. I’m not sure if that’s standard or if Harley specifically asked for the full spread to give us the experience, but either way, I was here for it.
Important tip: never put your spoon down upside-down — it’s bad luck, and someone will fix it for you. Learned that firsthand.
Also, no one tipped. My understanding is that tipping isn’t really a thing there, which honestly makes sense with how efficient everything is. Even though they had plenty of staff taking care of everyone, a lot of stuff is self-serve or already at the table, so you’re never just waiting around awkwardly.
Oh, and they serve plum tea at the end of the meal as a digestive. I loved that. Small plates all around, but so many of them. Everything was fresh, and while some dishes were spicy, it never felt overwhelming — mostly because pickled radish was always nearby to reset your mouth and save your life.
Convenience stores? Felt like stepping into the future. First of all, everything was spotless, even outside. There were so many snacks to try it was almost intimidating — in the best way. I especially loved the “drinks in a bag with ice cups” setup. Also, their packaging just... makes sense. All of it. Everything was easy to open, easy to carry, and fun to look at.
The clerks were super nice and would gently let me know if I was being “a little too American.” I appreciated it. I also loved how a lot of convenience stores had ramen prep stations in the store, plus places to sit — either outside or inside — so you could just exist without needing to rush off.
But also, don’t lollygag. These places are clean, efficient, and not here for your wandering daydreams.
Self-serve stores were some of my favorites. 24/7, no human interaction required — ideal.
Language-wise, everyone there takes English in school, so most people could muddle through enough to help us find what we needed. I tried practicing little things Harley taught me, like how to say thank you, and people definitely appreciated the effort — even if I wasn’t nailing it. I could always tell because there was a soft little smirk, like, “good try.”
Google Translate helped with some conversations, but the process is clunky and always a little awkward. Luckily, no one seemed to care about awkwardness. Everyone felt super real — no one seemed embarrassed to be human.
And honestly? That might be the biggest difference I noticed — especially as an autistic traveler. No one seemed weirded out by my awkwardness. Nobody flinched at lack of eye contact. People were just... present and patient. It felt really safe to just be myself.
Everyone had a personal space bubble, and they respected each other’s. Maybe it was just because Harley was taking care of us, or maybe that’s just how people are there — but either way, I felt relaxed and more comfortable in my own skin than I expected to.
♿ Accessibility – Day 1
Honestly? I felt more at ease there than I have anywhere outside of my own house. Which is kind of wild to say, but also kind of amazing.
A big part of that was thanks to Harley — she handled so many little things for us. I didn’t have to make a million decisions or try to figure everything out on my own. I could take on challenges when I had the spoons, and when I didn’t? I could just ride the vibe. No pressure.
It made me realize something about rich autistic people — like, this is how they must function. They’ve got people who handle the tiny decisions, keep them fed, manage schedules... so they can save their energy for the big, important stuff. I don’t want to be rich, I just want to be rich enough to have someone cook, clean, and calendar for me. That’s the dream.
There were also tons of signs and instructions with pictures, which helped a LOT. Most of the time I didn’t even have to translate them. Though there was one sign at a pet store that threw me — it had a picture of a bag, but when I translated it, it said "envelope," and I just stood there like, "...okay?"
One of the best parts was how accepted I felt. I definitely stood out — I mean, tattoos, cords, the whole vibe — but I was treated like I was exotic in a positive way. Not the usual weird mix of fascination and passive-aggressive judgment I get in the States. It was all kind comments and genuine curiosity.
The biggest unexpected support? Those little signs with visuals. It’s such a small thing, but it makes a huge difference when you know exactly what to do and don’t have to guess or mask your confusion.
Physically, I was really impressed with how accessible things were. Sure, some older buildings were less so, but I don’t think I saw a single multi-story building without an elevator. The city’s infrastructure was insanely pedestrian-friendly — tons of crosswalks, clear walking paths, and it always felt safe to just walk around.
We did a lot of walking, but there were plenty of benches and rest spots along the way, which helped.
Even public spaces were respectfully quiet, which was great for sensory regulation. You don’t realize how loud America is until you experience a country where people aren’t yelling in grocery stores.
Now, that flight over there? I never want to take another international flight in economy again. My big butt is not made for those seats. I will be booking premium economy next time because economy shouldn’t even be legal. I’ve seen cattle transported with more dignity.
That said, jet lag on the way there wasn’t too bad — I think the timing helped. On the way back... well, that’s a story for another day.
💸 Spending Summary – Day 1
Item | Amount (USD) | Notes |
Flight (Round Trip via EVA Air) | $1,726.61 | Economy with 2 free 50lb bags. Layover in Taipei both ways. Comfortable? No. Functional? Barely. |
Hotel (Shared cost) | $234.81 | My half of the $469.62 for the week at Hotel Stavia. Surprisingly fancy. Bathroom setup raised questions. |
Convenience Store Snacks | $5.30 | Melon ice cream and possibly the peak of Day 1 joy. |
Dinner (Korean BBQ) | $19.50 | Total was $78 split 4 ways. Emily paid but here’s what my share would’ve been. |
Harley’s Services | $60.00 | Worth every penny. Korean mom status unlocked. |
Total: $2,046.22
Honestly, between surviving international air travel, being lovingly adopted by Harley, and falling in love with plum tea, I’d say I got my money’s worth.
💤 End of Day 1 – Final Thoughts
Day 1 was a whirlwind of sweat, snacks, jet lag, and bidet confusion — but in the best way possible. I survived two long-haul flights, met amazing people, ate incredible food, and somehow still had the energy to stroll through what felt like a K-drama set before crashing into bed.
More than anything, I felt safe and welcomed. That’s not something I usually say about new places — especially ones across the world where I don’t speak the language — but between Harley taking care of us, the kindness of everyone we met, and the quiet comfort of how things just... work, I started to settle into the rhythm.
I was still tired, overstimulated, and definitely slightly crispy around the edges — but I also felt grounded. And honestly? That was the biggest surprise of all.
Bring on Day 2.
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