Vol 1. EGYPT (ENG)

Launching PJPM (Il-jap-geu-sa)

PJPM (Iljapgeusa) — part journal part magazine.

Twice a month, we’ll send you simple, unvarnished notes on everyday life and travel. Sometimes carefully curated, sometimes rambling and meandering.

Subscribe, and we’ll slip a spark of joy into your inbox—something worth opening amidst the flood of spam.

“In Dahab, they say there are three kinds of fools.”

(there are quite a lot of Koreans in Dahab.)

Why tearing up a ticket makes you a fool, I don’t know. Maybe because I did it myself. My plan was simple: Egypt → Berlin → Montreal. But I never made it to Berlin. Instead, I stayed in Egypt for a month. How that happened… I’ll tell you in due time.

People like to joke, “So, did you really come to Dahab for vacation?”

Technically, yes—I came to have fun. But life here feels more like training camp than a holiday. There’s always something to do, always somewhere to be. No wonder short-term visitors have earned a nickname: Dada-man—the ones rushing through Dahab with no time to breathe.

Freediving & Scuba Diving

Dahab is also known as a mecca for diving. I earned both my freediving and scuba certifications there, and during those three weeks, I can count on one hand the days I didn’t get into the water. Training sessions and fun dives filled almost every day. Considering that about 70% of the Earth’s surface is covered by ocean, getting comfortable underwater feels like a real advantage. It’s a different world down there.

Freediving feels more like a sport, while scuba diving leans toward leisure. When I’m freediving, I envy scuba divers who can breathe freely. When I’m scuba diving, I envy freedivers moving effortlessly without gear.

photo by: @dahab_assahouse @dahab_assafreediving

One of the World’s Top 3 Wreck Dives: SS Thistlegorm

Dahab is home to many famous dive sites—the Blue Hole, the Canyon, the Islands—but among them, the Thistlegorm stands out with a unique allure. This British cargo ship sank in 1941 during World War II after a German air raid, and today it rests beneath the sea like a vast underwater museum.

Inside the hull, you’ll still find motorbikes, trucks, weapons, and other military supplies, with schools of fish weaving through them. Rusted steel frames blend with thriving marine life, creating an atmosphere that’s both eerie and mesmerizing.

Entry to the Thistlegorm requires at least 20 logged dives. Here, one “dive” refers to using up a full air tank. The site is challenging, and only divers with solid experience should attempt it.

Dahab is often called a traveler’s black hole—or graveyard. It’s a place filled with people with unusual backstories. Here, long-term world travel feels so normal that returning to “real life” can feel like motion sickness.

Life is a series of choices. At every fork in the road, I used to scold myself for not being more decisive. And almost as soon as this journey began, I faced a major crossroad. I had set aside my dream of traveling overland through Africa, only to have the opportunity unexpectedly land in my lap. I wrote it all out on paper, organized my thoughts, and made the call. Now, I’m writing these words from Kenya.

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— What guides your decisions?

I weigh different factors, but in the end, instinct matters most. The outcome may turn out better or worse than expected, but I’d rather avoid regret. If I truly want it in the moment, the answer is Go. If everyone else says it’s great but I don’t feel it, then it’s No.

There are questions no one else can answer for you—like “What will make me happy?” That’s something only you can know. You can talk it over with others, but no one can decide for you. That’s why I take time alone to ask what my heart really wants. I imagine the changes a choice might bring, and also what life would look like if nothing changed. If the new path excites me more—and it’s not a completely unrealistic future—I take the leap.

The key is not to confuse instinct with impulse. Impulse often comes from wanting to escape discomfort or worrying about how others see you. Instinct, on the other hand, keeps sending signals. If the same dilemma keeps resurfacing, it probably means it’s time to decide. I’ve always followed my instincts, and I’ve never once regretted it. Whatever the outcome, if I can accept it, then that’s the best possible result.

(Jung Ho-yeol, editor’s scuba diving buddy)

Side Interview.

Ho-yeol — Decisive, with a sharp sense of humor. Never shed a single tear in life. Once sailed around the world on a non-motorized boat with Captain Kim Seung-jin, and is now back on the road, planning another long-term world journey.

— You once said travel feels like “homework.” What did you mean by that?

People often tell me, “You must really love traveling.” But every time I hear that, I question it myself. Honestly, I’ve never thought of myself as someone who loves travel. I don’t feel a rush of excitement when preparing, and I rarely get overwhelmed with emotion during the journey. So why do I keep going? I thought about that a lot while walking the Camino de Santiago.

In the end, I realized I don’t particularly enjoy travel. Strange food, unfamiliar environments, new people—all of it feels stressful to me. I’m always worried about what to say to new acquaintances, whether a joke I make might come across as rude. Truthfully, I find more joy in keeping up small, everyday routines than in big changes.

But I do have a strong desire for growth. I often remind myself, “Let today be at least a little better than yesterday.” If I stay only in familiar places, I know I’ll grow complacent. Travel constantly throws newness and discomfort at me, and through that process, I discover parts of myself I didn’t know. It’s a way of checking what I like, what I don’t, and what kind of person I am—gathering more and more “data” on myself along the way.

So I tend to prefer difficult destinations over comfortable ones. The harder the journey, the more I feel I gain from it. For example, travel means meeting countless people. It can be fun, but more often it’s exhausting. Still, there’s no avoiding it—you have to face it. And in doing so, I get the chance to reflect on myself.

I once believed I genuinely liked people, and that people liked me in return. But that was an illusion. I was always trying to win everyone’s approval, and deep down, it wore me out. Now that I see it clearly, I try not to repeat the same mistake. I allow myself to like the people I truly like, and I stop forcing myself to like those I don’t.

For me, travel is a way of spotting and correcting my own errors. Like working through a problem set—you slowly gain deeper understanding as you go. That’s why, to me, travel feels like homework.

— What made you decide to set out on a non-motorized boat journey?

When I dropped out of college at 22, I made a promise to myself: “In my twenties, try everything I can. By thirty, choose one thing I truly love and devote myself to it.” I lived that way—busy, chasing experiences. By the time I was 28, I thought I’d tried enough, but I still didn’t know what I really wanted. So I figured, why not end my twenties with a trip around the world? Maybe I’d find an answer along the way.

But I didn’t want a typical journey. I wanted to do it in my own way, something bold. That’s when I came across the story of Captain Kim Seung-jin, who had set sail alone, risking everything. His challenge was so inspiring—it made my heart race. I thought, “I want to start my own adventure too.”

For months, I consumed everything about him—TV features, lectures, books—and even started planning my own expedition. In the end, I sent him an email to thank him and ask for advice. To my surprise, he replied that very evening. The next day we met in Hongdae, talked, and somehow, one thing led to another. Before I knew it, I was on his boat, part of the crew, setting off on a non-motorized voyage.

* A non-motorized boat moves solely by natural forces, without any engine or mechanical power.

사진: 본인 제공

- 10/08/2025  -

He wants to be a good dad. He has lots of funny stories for his kids, and he seems fully in charge of his own life. As someone who also wants to live with a clear backbone, I see parts of him I’d like to follow.

After this interview, I felt it for sure: I also need to do “my own work.” I had thought I’d just do what I want this year and then settle for reality next year. But meeting him gave me courage—maybe I can hold out a few more years.

A Month in Egypt

They say travel helps you learn more about yourself, but lately I feel like the “me” I used to know and the “me” I see now are not the same. It’s confusing.

- ?/8/2025 -

So maybe I’ve always been a plainer person than I thought. Laughs and tears weren’t because of sunsets in Croatia, but because of Chris and Jeanne. Not because of busking in Porto, but because of Sunjoo. Not because of barbecue, but because of Assa House. Not because of turtles, but because of my buddies.

“So why does everyone travel?”

S: Because. I like you. It’s the people I travel with.

H: lol just because I want to. Not doing it feels like a waste—our country is too small.

L: It’s something I always wanted. If I don’t, I’ll regret it forever. Even though it’s just eating, playing, and spending money, not doing it makes me feel like I can’t do anything. I usually start things and never finish—so my goal this trip is to end it well.

Y: I just love meeting new people and hearing different stories, haha.

C: My biggest reason is that I want to see with my own eyes the places I’ve only seen or heard about through media. And as I travel, I realize how much my perspective widens. That keeps me going, looking for new experiences.

K: I like trying new things, and when I go abroad I can see and feel things I’d never experience in Korea. Not through others, but directly with my own body. That’s why I keep traveling.

Lately I’ve come to realize, more than ever, that I travel because of people—and thanks to people. Looking back, I’d say about 98% of the overwhelming moments I’ve felt were really because of them.

As for PJPM (Iljapgeusa), please don’t expect too much. I’m just doing it. The things I share may be no better than spam, and my journal might end up as rambling, embarrassing fragments. But I don’t care to impress anyone. I’m done with endlessly piling up “perfect” ingredients without ever cooking. Now I’m simply doing it.

Thank you, and see you again in the next issue.

P.S. Worst Itinerary Ever Awards:
Cairo → Siwa → Cairo → Dahab → Cairo → Dahab → Jordan → Dahab…

 ... don't ever do this kids.