I had just arrived at my temporary home in Seoul, South Korea. As I dropped my suitcase, I embarked on an exploration of the apartment trip. Nothing out of usual except… six trash bins lined in the corridor. My home back in the UK barely had two—plastic and general waste. And even those two sometimes became one when a roommate was too lazy to recycle and “saving the earth” had to wait for another day.
However, during my study abroad placement in South Korea, I discovered that sustainability is not taken lightly. While Korea rarely advertises itself as a “green destination,” I’ve never seen a country take waste management more seriously. As someone who also lived in Bali—an island overflowing with beauty, plastic, and paradoxes—the contrast is striking.
In Seoul, trash is not just “trash.” Each apartment building has bins for general waste, plastic, paper, glass, and—most strikingly—food waste. And these aren’t optional. Residents buy government-issued bags, and incorrect disposal can result in hefty fines. At first, I was overwhelmed. Making a cup of instant noodles felt like a math puzzle—and I chose creative courses at university for a reason. Where do leftovers go? Is the soup food waste? Is the cup paper or plastic?
But soon, the system’s elegance became clear. By sorting trash at the source, Korea reduces landfill pressure and improves material recovery—contributing directly to UN Sustainable Development Goal 12: Responsible Consumption and Production.
The real lesson, though, wasn’t about trash. It was about mindset. Korea doesn’t treat sustainability as a trend; it treats it as habit. You don’t get a plastic spoon with your convenience store meal unless you ask. Cafés offer discounts for reusable cups. Even the late-night trash trucks are part of an efficient urban system powered by collective effort.
This stood in stark contrast to my time in Bali. While the island promotes spiritual retreats and eco-lodges, its waste infrastructure is deeply fractured. I remember one evening: a pink sunset barely visible through smoke rising from burning roadside rubbish. In many areas, burning trash is standard, releasing toxins and polluting the air. Despite Bali’s booming tourism industry, systems for waste management are minimal. Here, SDG 11: Sustainable Cities and Communities and SDG 13: Climate Action feel like distant goals.
Witnessing these extremes shifted my own travel behavior. In Korea, I began refusing single-use items, carrying a reusable bottle, and sorting my waste diligently. More importantly, I started conversations—sharing comparisons online to reframe what “eco-travel” really means. It’s not just beach clean-ups for Instagram; it’s citywide systems that quietly shape habits.
Sustainable travel isn’t just about where we go—it’s about how we adapt. Korea taught me that the quietest habits—sorting a banana peel from its wrapper—can echo the loudest. As I prepare to return home, I carry more than souvenirs. I carry a blueprint for change.
