First Commutes: Cycling in London vs Seoul

04/04/2026 •

To be very honest, I might not have gotten into cycling if I started in the UK. On my first visit to London (it was a work trip), I casually picked up a Santander bicycle for my commute from Oxo Tower to Baker Street. I remember, at some point, looking at the big Lion King advert on the wall of a West End theatre, thinking ‘I’d like to see that show and I should have walked.’ It was a stunning September afternoon yet I couldn’t enjoy anything about it; I was too nervous and flustered. I took much longer than estimated 25 minutes and ended up paying more than the Zone 1 peak time fare. I decided not to cycle again in London.

Google Map Street View of London Lyceum Theatre: busy two lane road with trucks, SUVs, pedestrian and cycle lane.

image credit: Google Map Street View

A few years later, now I am a more experienced British road user who even owns a British brand bicycle. But I am still scared to cycle right next to the cars that can, to put it plainly and earnestly, kill me.

Korean streams, sandwiched

That nonchalant, casual confidence to cycle during rush hour in London stemmed from my success in my first ever commute made on a bike. I was doing my final semester of university in Seoul, Korea. I had just moved in with my then partner after living right by the campus. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, my lecture ended at 6 pm with all other businesses. The first week, I took buses home. The traffic was nauseating. The next week, I tried subway. Suffocating. On the third week, I skipped the last lecture to beat the crowd.

I studied the map of Seoul. I studied it hard. No matter on which bus or subway line, the commute was going to be packed. There was no way I was walking three and a half hours to arrive home by 10 pm. Then I noticed sky blue lines on the map. Those were two streams, conveniently connecting two points of my interest.

Streams are relevant as South Korean ones are often sandwiched by cycling and walking paths. I figured out I could follow one stream to its south-eastern end and then transfer to the next stream to ride south home. Without further preparation, I decided to cycle home. I hadn’t cycled since I was seven.

Rides in sunset in Seoul

The ride was 15km (or 9.3 miles) and 60 minutes. I hired one of city’s on-demand rental bicycles for an hour. Think London’s Santander but public and a lot cheaper. I didn’t have anything else; Not even a helmet. I threw my bag in the front basket and just started pedalling along the stream.

Green Seoul on-demand rental bicycle standing against the fence, Han river as background

Santander but public and cheaper. image credit: http://www.bikeseoul.com

I loved that stream. It was looked after with love but also wild and organic. The neighbouring buildings were small, quaint, and humble. I spotted so many birds there: mallards, spot-billed, rare mandarins, and big ones like egrets and herons. Fellow passing metropolitans said things like ‘Look, there goes a crane!’ in excitement (Unfortunately, there never was any crane). In the peak of spring, golden flowers radiated happiness along the path. The new, young and lush leaves created scintillating contrast of sunlight and shade. Running through one of the oldest neighbourhoods in Seoul, the path and the water were popular among many retired promenaders from dawn to dusk. I often dismounted from my bicycle blocked by slow and unaware pedestrians. I didn’t mind. I enjoyed walking there.

The next stream was a bigger one. The water was wide, open, and calm. It was less lovely though, with a motorway running along the paths over the long patch of greenery and traffic fences. It had its charm. Few people used the paths during the weekdays and the two-lane cycling path was nicely segregated from the walking path. Riding under the orange and purple sunset, with the motorway noise as a background track, I was all alone in the whole wide city. Everything was mine. I could sing loudly and be heard by nobody. Occasionally older men passed me by at leisurely cadence on their rusty bicycle. I didn’t ask but they didn’t seem to be going anywhere specific or recording their speed on Strava. The city was theirs, too.

A Seoul stream, Joongnangcheon walking and cycling path in a daylight. Tall apartment buildings in the background.

The bigger stream in daylight. Pedestrian path and two lane cycling paths. Motorway on the right. image credit: https://m.blog.naver.com/seikei77

Halfway through the bigger stream, around 40 minutes elapsed, still 25 minutes left, my emotions were often all over the place. It was partially because of the sentimental affect of the post-sunset indigo, but mainly because I got sick of the ride. My legs were heavy and belly, empty. The only thing that made me complete the remaining 1/3 of the trip was the fact that I didn’t have any other option at that point. However I never regretted cycling like I did later in London. There was no fear, anxiety, life-threats, verbal assault, or pressure. I wanted to cycle again.

Back to now

I believe that migrants are bound to fantasize the ultimate super system that has all the best parts of the countries they ever lived in. For me, it is the UK’s way of recognizing cyclists’ right to be on the road and Korea’s provision of leisurely and green paths where people feel relaxed.