There’s a pull Korea has on me that I still can’t quite name. It’s the bars, of course. The bars alone are reason enough. The late-night intensity of Seoul, the quiet confidence behind so many Korean bar counters, the ferment and umami, the ingredients that make you stop halfway through a sip and wonder exactly what just happened. But it’s not only what ends up in the glass.

It’s the people behind it. The conversations that begin with a cocktail and somehow end somewhere completely different. The warmth of being welcomed into a bar thousands of kilometres from home and, for a few hours, feeling that you belong there. That, more than anything, is why I love travelling for bars. A good drink can stay with you for a long time. The people and stories around it tend to stay even longer. And Korea has stayed with me.

So yes, I’m going back. Third time now, if anyone’s counting. In truth, Korea has been quietly following me around between trips anyway. There are the K-dramas, for one — an ongoing habit by now, and probably more episodes than I should publicly admit to. I love the way they linger on things: a shared meal, a quiet moment, a look held just a beat too long. Maybe some of that has found its way into the way I travel, too. I find myself looking for those small moments now. Sitting at a bar. Watching. Listening. Letting a story take its time. Then there’s the writing itself. Somewhere along the way, writing about bars became almost as important to me as visiting them. I love sitting down afterwards, usually with the memory of a drink still fresh, turning an evening over in my head and trying to find the words that hold it. The bartender, the conversation, the room, the flavours, the tiny details you don’t realise you’ve noticed until you start writing.

Half the joy of going back is knowing there will be more of those stories to tell. This time, I’ve also been doing my homework. I’ve been teaching myself Korean, slowly and stubbornly, the way you learn something out of love rather than necessity. I can read Hangul now. More or less. If you give me time. Quite a lot of time, actually. Hangul still asks for patience. I’m happy to give it.

And perhaps knowing even a little more of the language will open another door. Maybe conversations will go a little further. Maybe I’ll understand something I missed the first two times. That is part of travelling, too: returning to a place you thought you knew and discovering how much you still don’t.

The journey begins in Busan, with a week at language school. After that, three or four weeks unspool ahead of me: Busan, Jeju Island, Daegu, Gyeongju, Seoul, familiar bars I’ve never quite stopped thinking about and, hopefully, plenty of doors I don’t yet know I’m going to walk through. There will be cocktails. There will almost certainly be late nights. There will be Korean sentences spoken far too slowly. And, if past trips are anything to go by, there will be people who remind me why I started Barstalker in the first place.

The K-Pour Chronicles are about to begin again … stay tuned …