It’s just over two hours from Seoul to Andong by train, and in that short window, the view outside the window transforms completely from city to forest.

From the station, the route continues to Hahoe Village. Hahoe preserves Korea’s traditional architecture and way of life, and the entire village is registered as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

On the road there, Andong’s charm reveals itself layer by layer. Low mountain ridges roll past the car window, and clusters of Hanok suddenly appear in every neighborhood. Overlapping eaves peek over tiled walls, and courtyards and pine trees unfold into view. In Andong, cultural heritage doesn’t sit apart on display—it remains naturally woven into the homes, courtyards and everyday landscapes where people still live today.

Before entering Hahoe Village, it’s worth climbing Buyongdae Cliff. Alternatively, visit the village first, then cross the river by ferry to the cliff—the order simply depends on the route. From the overlook atop the cliff facing the Nakdonggang River, the entire village unfolds below in one view. The Nakdonggang River curls around the village in the shape of an S, and inside that curve, tile-roofed and thatched-roof houses cluster together in a scene that feels almost otherworldly. This landform has long been likened to a lotus flower floating on water. Standing on the cliff where scholars of the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910) once sharpened their studies, or looking out over a village that unfolds like an ink-wash painting, it makes one feel as though time itself has started running backward.

Hahoe Village is no ordinary tourist attraction. In 2010, the entire village was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Around a zelkova tree that carries centuries of growth rings, 127 houses make up the village, with treasure-designated Hanok such as Yangjindang House and Chunghyodang House lining every alley. The sight of tiled-roof and thatched-roof houses standing side by side still shows how the Joseon Dynasty’s class hierarchy once coexisted within a single village—the tiled homes of yangban (noble class) surrounded by the thatched homes of servants and tenant farmers. That era, in which such different lives shared one village, was eventually recorded through the art of mask dance. Hahoe Byeolsingut Tallori (Mask Dance Drama of Hahoe) carries 800 years of history as a National Intangible Cultural Heritage, using masks to mock the pretensions of the yangban class and turn the sorrows of commoners into comedy. Over the roughly hour-long performance, the singer-performers trade lines with the audience, and everyone eventually joins in the dance together.

Before or after the performance, don’t miss the chance to try Andong’s two signature dishes at Hahoe Market: Andong jjimdak (Andong braised chicken) and gangodeungeo (salted mackerel). Andong jjimdak simmers chicken with glass noodles and vegetables in a soy sauce-based sauce, known for its sweet and salty flavor—though some restaurants make it spicy, so it’s worth asking before ordering. Gangodeungeo is Andong’s own take on salted, cured fish, developed by this inland city; its salty yet clean flavor pairs well with steamed rice. Many restaurants sell a set menu that serves both dishes together, so trying them side by side is worth doing. Finish the meal with a glass of Andong sikhye (a sweet rice drink) to round out the flavors of Andong.

At the edge of Hahoe Village, where the pine-lined walking path comes to an end, stands the tiled main building of Rakkojae Hahoe Hanok Hotel. Its name means roughly “a house that delights in the old,” and it’s known as the only hotel in Korea currently located inside a protected cultural heritage zone. Across roughly 16,500 square meters of land, some 20 Hanok buildings are arranged like a small village, with several structures reinterpreted from direct measurements of Buyongjeong Pavilion, Yeongyeongdang Hall and Nakseonjae Hall—all buildings within Changdeokgung Palace in Seoul.

The moment the room door opens, it feels like stepping into a small museum. Rooms hold 12th- to 13th-century Goryeo Dynasty (918–1392) celadon, 14th-century Goryeo black-glazed ware and even a soap dish made from a 19th-century ritual vessel. Every room carries its own story. In the Superior Room, the window frames a mountain peak shaped like a brush stand; in front of the Buyongjeong Room, meant for newlyweds, stand stone statues of a toad and a turtle symbolizing fertility. The VIP wing was built modeled after Nakseonjae Hall and Yeongyeongdang Hall, with a memorial gate honoring a virtuous woman of the Jeonju Yi clan hanging over its entrance. Rooms with floor seating, rooms with bedding laid over heated ondol (underfloor heating system) floors and rooms furnished with raised beds each offer a different way of experiencing Hanok life.

The view through each Hanji (traditional Korean paper) window differs from room to room. From the wooden veranda, a pond and garden come into view; open one window and a tiled roof appears, open another and a pine forest fills the frame. Depending on which view lies outside, the same day can leave a slightly different memory. Hahoe Village and Andong more broadly are lined with old houses at every price point, each offering its own view—whichever one is chosen, there’s no shortage of history to enjoy.

Guests who stop by the lobby can borrow anything from Hanbok (traditional Korean clothing) to jjimjilbang (public sauna) wear, free of charge. The Hanbok sets are kept simple—just a robe or a jeogori (jacket) and skirt, without hats, pants, shoes or accessories—making them easy to put on and wear. Sitting on the hotel’s wooden daecheongmaru (the open wooden central hall) or strolling the garden along the low tiled walls for photos is practically mandatory.

Beside the lobby building, taps and towels are set up so guests can rinse their feet before and after walking the hwangto (red clay) path. Walking barefoot over the damp clay, the coolness of the earth rises up from the toes. The same curve of the Nakdonggang River and the tiled rooftops of Hahoe Village seen from Buyongdae Cliff are echoed here in miniature. Walking the short stretch of clay path leaves just enough of a pleasant sweat. Now it’s time to let the body rest even more.

Open the door to the jjimjilbang, and warm heat rolls out along with a strong scent of mugwort. Sitting in the clay room, breathing in the smell of mugwort—long used in traditional Korean medicine to warm the body and improve circulation—the day’s fatigue, built up from walking the length of Hahoe Village and watching the lively mask dance, quietly fades away. A growling stomach is the surest sign that dinner is calling.

A trip spent staying in a Hanok finds its finishing touch at a traditional table. Suunjapbang Dining carries the Joseon-era table into the present. Suunjapbang (A Selection of Culinary Recipes), written in the mid-16th century by the Andong scholar Kim Yu (pen name: Takcheongjeong) and later expanded by his grandson Kim Ryeong (pen name: Gyeam), is one of Korea’s oldest surviving cookbooks and a record of the original form of Korea’s traditional guest-hosting food culture. The dishes recorded in the book are still passed down within the family today, and travelers can experience this tradition themselves by reservation.

This spread is meant for honored guests—lavish without being showy. It includes heotjesatbap, an elegant spread of namul (seasoned vegetables), clear soup and skewers with soy sauce—named after the old custom of holding mock rites just to enjoy ritual food. Recreated by the eldest daughter-in-law of the head family, the meal also features delicately seasoned dishes and jjimdak cooked according to the old recipe, quite different from today’s version. Five hundred years of history sit quietly on every plate. A glass of Andong soju (traditional clear liquor) served alongside leaves a clean finish behind its strong aroma, rounding out Andong’s centuries-old food culture with even greater clarity.

As the sun sets, lights come on in the windows one by one, and their glow spreads quietly across the pond, filling the night. The view from Buyongdae Cliff, the alleys of Hahoe Village, the feel of the clay path underfoot—it all comes together, in the end, in that final table of food. What lingers longer than the memory of a night spent in a Hanok is the sense of having actually lived, for a moment, inside centuries of continuous life. Andong isn’t an old city. It’s a city that has kept time itself alive.