During my trip to Guangzhou this January, I sat down and drank tea by myself for the very first time. I still remember that feeling of slowly settling down, as if my whole body had become grounded and firmly connected to the earth. Since then, I’ve found myself seeking out tea houses in Korea whenever I can.
This time, I finally visited Ado Tea House in Mullae, a place I had saved for one of my days off.
That day, I felt unusually heavy and tired. I wondered whether I’d regret making the trip all the way to Mullae, only to come home even more exhausted. But then I thought, I’ll never know unless I go. So I decided to head out anyway—this time as lightly as possible. I took my umbrella out of my bag, left my laptop at home, and went with nothing but myself.
As I started walking through Mullae, raindrops suddenly began to fall. Whenever I carried an umbrella everywhere just in case, it never rained. Yet the first time in months that I left it behind, the rain came.
I laughed to myself. Then I figured that aside from getting pleasantly cooled off, getting caught in the rain wasn’t the end of the world. So I simply kept walking. It reminded me not to burden myself by carrying everything “just in case.”
Only a few meters away from the tea house, the rain suddenly turned into a downpour. I hurried inside to take shelter. Watching the rain through the window from the warmth of the tea house felt beautifully atmospheric. In the end, it became the perfect weather for tea.
There were several ways to choose a tea.
You could choose one that matched your current emotions, one based on its region of origin, or fill out something called a “Tea Prescription,” where you freely described your emotional state and the staff would recommend a tea accordingly.
I thought the Tea Prescription was such a charming idea, but I felt a little shy about handing my feelings to someone I had just met. So instead, I chose according to my mood.
Lately, I’ve been craving lightness and joy, so I picked the black tea associated with joy.
Even the teacup was yours to choose. Recently, I’ve come to enjoy being transparent about who I am, so I chose a clear glass cup.
The staff prepared a Honey Aroma Black Tea (蜜香紅茶) and briefly explained how to use the tea utensils.
The first sip genuinely surprised me. It was creamy, naturally sweet, and tasted almost as though honey had been added—even though none had.
I was told to steep it for fifteen seconds, but I preferred something softer and lighter, so I brewed each infusion for about ten seconds instead.
Sitting at the counter, I almost forgot I was drinking tea. It somehow felt like sipping whisky at a bar.
Traditional Japanese tea ceremony, with its perfectly straight posture and carefully prescribed rituals, would probably lose me after a while. I much prefer enjoying tea in my own way, somewhere between tea and whisky, without worrying too much about the rules.
The staff also offered me some mugwort tea to sample. It was made by compressing mugwort into a small cake before brewing. Its aroma reminded me of freshly made Korean mugwort rice cakes—so comforting that simply smelling it made it feel delicious.
I sat there quietly, letting my mind wander, jotting down little fragments of thoughts whenever they surfaced. With my headphones on, I finished watching Everyone Is Fighting Their Own Sense of Worthlessness. There were so many lines I wanted to write down.
On the first floor was a small meditation room, and up a short flight of stairs was a cozy attic space that could be reserved for private use. I found myself thinking that I’d love to come back someday with people I truly care about.
By the time the kettle had nearly run dry, the rain had stopped. I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering through Seoul, enjoying a proper walk for the first time in a while.
I lived in both China and Taiwan for years—places celebrated for their tea culture—yet I never paid enough attention to visit their tea houses back then. Looking back, that feels like such a missed opportunity.
If I ever return, I’ll make sure to explore as many wonderful tea houses as I can.