Who knew that taxi drivers went on strike? Well, it seems in Korea that they do. That and a delayed arrival meant a night at the Daegu Airport Hotel. I pulled back the curtains to see if I could see any landings or takeoffs and I looked straight into a Boeing 737, parked there for the night.

And forget about the taxi, I could have walked into town; at about three kilometres, the Daegu International Airport and the urban centre must have one of the closest nexuses in the world.

It is logical when you fly into a new country that you are going to the capital and you’re going to spend most of your time there, as that’s where everything happens. But try walking into Seoul from Incheon Airport, 60 kilometres away. And there are no planes outside your window either.

It wasn’t my first trip to Korea but I felt like Daegu was Korean Disneyland, staged just for me. The only other foreigner I saw averted his eyes; he must have been an English teacher.

More than two million people live here but you wouldn’t know it. There are no confusing metro trips, everything is there in the centre, especially around Dongseong-ro Street.

There are plenty of temples for those who require them. Photo: Pexels

Sure, there are the multicoloured pavilion temples and hanok timber-and-tile houses at the end of little alleyways, and you can have your photo taken in a traditional hanbok costume for free, but the things that stand out are shoes. And chicken.

Who knew that hand-made shoes are still a thing, anywhere in the world? But Daegu has a whole street dedicated to the craft. The old cobbler, a word that hardly exists anymore, searched throughout his crowded shop, the problem being that I am hardly Korean-petite. A brown pair of brogues, some black dress shoes? Or what about these, orange and violet with a navy wedge sole that looked like they belonged in a bowling alley? I can’t say I have ever thought about orange and violet as a natural combination, even if tempered by navy but how could I disappoint him? At about $50, it was no great stretch either.

Further along was a chicken stall, hardly a restaurant, where two dozen chickens slowly turned on a street-side rotisserie. But how to order? I pointed and sat down. A whole chicken arrived on a plate. That’s it, no rice, no vegetables. The only accompaniments were a pair of scissors to cut it with and some plastic gloves to wear while doing so.

The sole drink available was cloudy rice wine, the astringent taste a perfect foil for the chicken that managed to be crunchy and juicy, somehow sweet yet intensively chicken-flavoured at the same time. The locals are proud that their KFC, or Korean Fried Chicken, is taking over the world. You might not think you are capable of consuming a whole chicken on your own. But you will, you will. And you can tell yourself they are not that big anyway.

Daegu is an industrial powerhouse and while a walk around the hardware district might not be a typical tourist thing, it makes for fascinating photos. It is as though every shelf in Bunnings has been given its own outlet.

Who knew that there are so many different types of trolley wheels that you need a whole shop for them? Or that fire hydrants come in 23 sizes? And surprisingly for a country that leads the world in style and design, second-hand is a big thing too, and you can come away with a 1980s floral jumper made in Hong Kong or a china tea pot that somebody’s grandmother no longer needs.

Anyone for a particular trolley wheel? It’ll be here. Photo: Deirdre Smith

And while, to my mind, the traditional hanbok dress is just a bit too puffy, specialist tailors have the most beautiful silks for mothers and daughters to choose from, in lime green and fuchsia pink – they are not afraid of colour. The seamstresses, there’s another archaic word, are happy for you to wander and even if you don’t need a whole dress, little rolls of fabric offcuts are on sale outside for about $1 each.

Oh, and did we mention cosmetics? Like the chicken and pop music, they are on every young woman’s lips worldwide. There is a whole street dedicated to cosmetics, there are snail slime face creams and fermented bean face packs, but they also do a red wine version. All just $1 each and packaged so beautifully, you could just about lick the packet. Well, not the snail slime one.

And of course, you need a museum and a cultural activity or two. Set in an old bank, the small Daegu Modern History Museum is poignant, it demonstrates how in 1907, Koreans clubbed together in a burst of nationalistic fervour and donated all their jewellery and valuables to pay off debts owed to Japan.

Also free, the Museum of Oriental Medicine explains this still-common practice and also allows you a little practical action by letting you make your own soap. It might not have lathered very well once I got home but everybody wants to know where I got my the violet and orange shoes.

And another little-city thing about Daegu is its little-city prices. Standard hotels have double rooms for about $50 a night while $100 will buy you something much more lavish. Daegu is 300 kilometres south-east from Seoul and can be reached by fast train in 1:37 hours. Direct flights are available from Japan, Taiwan and China.