By Marianna Kim, CNN
Every weekend, hundreds of thousands of people of all ages set out on treasure hunts in the heart of Seoul. Locals and tourists alike, many are looking for bargains on clothes, watches, jewelry, license plates, surplus foods, decades-old packs of cigarettes and various “sold only on TV items” one sees on late-night commercials.
There’s a lot of ground to cover. This expansive, unofficial open-air flea market fills over three and a half miles of streets — about 30 blocks plus various side streets and alleys — in the South Korean capital almost every weekend, year-round, no matter the weather. But the busiest day for bargain hunters is Sunday, when the most sellers come out.
Goods spill out of shops onto sidewalks and traffic islands, where sellers dump piles of clothes, kitchenware, gadgets and even skincare and fragrances, new and used, for treasure hunters to rummage through.
Regulars have set up chat groups to share their discoveries with others, while fashion designers come to get inspiration from the patrons.
Authorities run vans through the area with loudspeaker announcements telling unauthorized sellers to clear the streets — they are supposed to have permits — but acknowledge the popularity of the Sunday treasure hunt is just too high for anything but momentary control.
The market’s roots lie in the Sinseol-dong neighborhood, home to the Seoul Folk Flea Market — a 54,422-square-foot space filled with 868 stores. A former school, it was transformed into a market by the city in 2008, when sellers were moved from another area of Seoul during a restoration project.
The Seoul Folk Flea Market soon began offering outdoor sales on Sundays. Seeing the crowds these events drew, sellers on neighboring streets opened up their own impromptu sidewalk shops, eventually spilling into adjoining neighborhoods to form the huge street market that visitors experience today.
Though this particular shopping destination is less than two decades old, Seoul’s street sale culture dates back to the 1960s. After the Korean War, many struggled to earn money and began selling their belongings to make ends meet. Some began setting up stalls to sell used goods, with vendors moving through different parts of the South Korean capital as areas redeveloped over the decades.
A market for everything
Changhoon Han runs a secondhand shop on the edges of the street market in Sinseol-dong.
On a recent Sunday morning, he’s placed some featured items on the street outside, careful not to let them spill onto the road itself and bring the attention of authorities.
There’s an eclectic mix of things on display: watches, artwork, sculptures, a taxi roof sign — and cigarettes?
Han says the decades-old cartons of smokes aren’t for lighting up but for collecting. It was quite the craze among older adults a few years ago, he says, when the packs from the mid-20th century would sell out almost as soon as they were displayed.
A sign hanging at Han’s shop explains a lot. “We buy everything,” it reads.
Once-avid collectors of all sorts have sold him their collections, he says. Interest fades, items are sold and new collectors and trends take their place.
“It’s a cycle,” Han says.
Just about 10 steps from the “everything shop” is a side street with a dead end, busy with shoppers going through boxes filled with random things including wires, clocks, nail polish, an electric kettle and some bottles of bee pollen. But mostly tools and supplies.
This place doesn’t have a name, but people know it by the spot, one shop worker says. The warmth of the seller is what keeps the customers visiting.
“He would say, ‘treat yourself