My first ever memory, believe it or not, was vomiting violently into an airline sick bag on the way to South Korea in 1993. Unaware at the time, this led to a 14-year air sickness condition that would ensure that I would fill up at least 14 sick bags on multiple transatlantic flights.

This was cured, naturally, when I first flew Business Class to Houston to visit my Dad, aged 16. I'd like to say this is because I have a taste for the finer things in life. However, it just turns out that the lure of unlimited Ben & Jerry's ice cream made it worth my time to keep everything in.

I digress, but the link in this story is that our dad worked away a lot. In the 2000s he was in Houston, and in 1993 he was positioned in the south of South Korea.

My brothers and I have fond memories of this trip, yet we've never really discussed why. Our mum flew two toddlers and a seven-year-old to the other side of the world to visit our dad for Christmas, on a 300m long oil tanker called the 'Al Awdah'.

Hazy memories of that ship include karaoke with the Korean crew (with me donning some trendy Flinstone slippers), a mountain of steel stairs, and getting shot in the back by my brother with a BB gun. All these tales were such random far east memories that my brothers and I couldn't quite believe we'd been there so young. South Korea? In the 90s? Surely not?

In the years that followed, our connection with the country deepened. Our mum became the sole UK franchisee of a South Korean automatic massage bed company called Ceragem. It was an unconventional business as the massage beds were free to use every day in her showroom. Questionable economics, superb social good; she helped improve the health of thousands of people in Preston with the free use of the beds. All provided by that far flung country in the Far East.

Fast forward to 2024, I was returning to the land of Bibimbap, kimchi and K-pop. South Korea had now become cool and I wanted a piece of it. I had joked about being way ahead of the curve, having visited back in 1993.

Just before I left, I came across a photo at my brother’s house. It was of me, my mum, and my brother, stood on a street corner in South Korea. I picked it up and smirked. I couldn't remember it being taken, but I knew straight away what I would have to do.

I had to recreate it somehow.

Armed with zero clues, my older brother said he was pretty sure it was in Busan. So after partying the new year away in Seoul with my friend Yves, we I hopped on a 3-hour 'Train to Busan' with untoward confidence that we would find the location. However, after receiving little useful information from locals in various cocktail bars, I received a WhatsApp from my Dad saying the photo must be in a place called Ulsan.

"You were never in Busan as a boy" he wrote.

Spanner in the works. We were stumped. I'd never even heard of Ulsan. It hadn't appeared anywhere on Instagram. That said, I'm surprised it even existed.

Luckily, it was only a 40-minute taxi ride north of Busan. So we set aside a day of the trip to go there (thanks, Yves). Ulsan turned out to be a soulless and industrial port city, famous for its Hyundai cars. I retraced our family steps to the 'Hyundai Hotel' near where the ship had been docked, in the hope I’d get some clues.

This hotel and its surrounding gardens had been the scene of family folklore, where my toddler brother went awol for over an hour. Total panic ensued, until he was found hiding behind a plant pot near reception, his cute blonde locks blossoming and his cheerful red cheeks beaming.

Yves and I walked round the gardens. I couldn't remember any of it. I'd stepped onto the stage a famous family story, yet I had no recollection of the scenery. Yves was no doubt wondering what the f*ck we were doing there. He had a good point. I was too.

The reception staff weren't much help either, suggesting the photo was probably taken in Seoul. This was proving more difficult than expected. 

We were now on a wild goose chase.

One local in a Busan cocktail bar had given us a clue that it might be in a busy shopping market. In the top right-hand corner of the photo there was a sign of a bakery chain, Korea's version of Gregg's. So we headed to the centre of Ulsan, toward one of these bakeries. twenty-two years later, fingers not crossed.

Nothing. Instead, we ate some fresher than fresh raw fish, spoke to a few locals via a translator app, and made pals with old female fishmonger who was preferable to profanity by the way of two fingers.

"Something in the picture feels like Busan" remarked a friendly local man.

All clues were pointing us back to Busan again. 

Before heading back to Busan, we made a pit stop to another distant memory of mine in the hope it would provide another clue, a gigantic iron bell in the city park. Riveting, I know.

I had a picture with the big bell and then circled around it like Indiana Jones surveying a long lost treasure. I must admit it was a strange feeling, wading through my earliest memories from a more lucid perspective. Then off we went back to Busan, tails between our legs, losing hope.

Back at the apartment it was time to go full CTU Chloe O'Brian forensic on the photo, time was running out. None of the shop signs in the photo were unique or distinguishable. It was a total mystery. However, I was determined to complete the quest.

On the verge of giving up, my brother sent me a higher quality version of the photo. Finally, I had a clue!

A phone number on one of the shops was now legible and it was still assigned to a business on Google Maps!

The business was located in Nampo-dong area of Busan so I used Google Street View to cross-reference the building with the photo. It was hard to tell. However, then another clue came into play. There was a billiards club that still existed on Google Street View, their crossed cue logo giving the final clue.

I left Yves in the apartment, he'd seen enough of nothingness for the day, and jumped in a taxi to Nampo-dong.

I couldn't quite believe it. The wild goose was about to be captured. I was about to complete my South Korean circle.

Now, let's zoom out a minute. Picture me, stood on a random street corner, gazing at a nondescript street corner at night. It's not the most typical tourism around. People tend to go to restaurants and eat tasty food. For me, conducting a thorough and wide search across the southern coast of Korea was today's special.

This was it. I was stood where we were all those years ago. How peculiar.

A lot of regeneration had happened since 1993 so the area was almost unrecognisable. The clues added up though. This must be it.

I asked a passerby to take a photo, showing him the 1993 photo and explaining that I wanted to re-create it. He didn't seem fussed, but was happy for me nonetheless, communicated by a wry smile.

Mission complete. Wow. What a day.

I went for some Buffalo Wings to celebrate in a deserted American diner nearby. The owner spoke good English, but I was too pre-occupied messaging my family, letting them know I'd found it. Unbeknownst to me, my brother had almost found it on Google Street View with similar tactics.

Alas, I finished my wings and went to pay. The owner asked what I was doing round there on a rainy Sunday evening. He seemed intrigued, so I showed him the original photo.

"I know where this is, it's on the other side of the building," he exclaimed.

I had the wrong location!

This Buffalo Winged Man had saved my day and my kimchi blushes. He recognised the location immediately because there was still the same shrimp business on the corner, after all these years.

I thanked him and took off to the other side of the building from where I'd taken the earlier photo.

Ok, now we're talking. The street corner was alive with bustling food stalls, just like in the photo! The shrimp business also had the exact same Korean lettering, only the grey cloth awning had been replaced with a bright yellow sign. So cool. Everything matched up.

Excited and wistful, I again asked someone to take a photo knowing for sure this was now the place.

I stood there for a while, imagining my mum navigate this foreign country with three young boys. Now one of them had returned to that exact spot.

It's only now as I write this and look again at that photo, I now see that she had a Princess Diana thoughtful smile about her, stood stiff in the middle of two toddlers.

I wonder what she was thinking.