Most travellers arrive in Busan for the beach — Haeundae, Gwangalli, a night out under the bridge. That is one Busan, and it is not the one we came to write about.

Busan is, first, a coastline. Long before the high-rises and the bridge lights, this was where the peninsula met the sea in a series of low headlands, tidal flats, and fishing villages that eventually grew into a city without ever losing their edges. What we found — walking rather than driving, staying two nights instead of one — is that the most honest way to know Busan is on foot, and always within a kilometre or two of salt water.

This issue is three coastal walks, chosen for how differently they read the same city. The Gijang coast to the north-east, where the Donghae Line commuter rail drops you at Ilgwang beach and a coastal deck trail leads north to a working fishing village. The Igidae headland walking into Oryukdo Sunrise Park at Yongho-dong — where the Haeparang Trail (East Coast) and the Namparang Trail (South Coast) share their starting point, the two great walking spines of the peninsula. And Yeongdo, the old-town island reached across a lifting bridge, where the fish market opens at dawn and the coffee shops open at ten.

What follows is a walker's Busan, not a nightlife map. The food we recommend — dwaeji-gukbap, milmyeon, hoe, coffee — is what fills you after a coastal morning, not what you queue for. The two sights we include — Gwangan Bridge at dusk, and a Lotte Giants home game at Sajik — are how Busan tells you the day is done.

Bring walking shoes that don't mind salt spray. Bring an appetite. And leave more time than you think you need. Busan is not a stop on the KTX line. It is a city you walk into, and only then does it open.