SEOUL, February 03 (AJP) - At exactly 1 p.m., a gray sedan rolled up in front of Exit 4 of Tanbang Station, Daejeon city of South Korea.
Out stepped driver An Seong-woo — with two bread-shaped plushies tucked under his arms and a smile warm enough to melt butter. That’s how our “Bread Vatican pilgrimage,” officially known as the Daejeon Bread Taxi Tour, began.
He had arrived early that morning to scout parking spots for customers who drove in. A small detail, maybe. But on this tour, small details are everything.
Inside the taxi, bread plushies and Sungsimdang character dolls were everywhere. On the back of the passenger seat hung a laminated guide explaining Daejeon's "bread capital" reputation — complete with tips on reheating pastries at home. Air fryer? Microwave? Defrost first? Ahn had answers to all of it.
Before the engine even started, it was clear: this wasn't just a ride. It was a carefully curated bread experience.
As we pulled away, An explained how the route works.
He personally tastes every bread. Checks prices. Inspects interiors. Verifies hygiene. Studies customer reviews. Only then does a bakery make the cut.
Routes change depending on who books and what they want. Today's lineup included Mimi Dessert, famous for Dubai-style chewy cookies; Sungsimdang, Daejeon's bread legend; Mongsim, winner of the Daejeon Bread Festival; Jeongdong Munhwasa; and one "secret" bakery he refused to name.
Our job was simple: pick up the bread he had already reserved and listen.
At each shop, An turned into a walking encyclopedia — explaining signature menus, owners' stories, ingredient choices, and even which pastries travel best.
At Mimi Dessert, people recognized him instantly. Customers waved. Some asked for business cards. A group of students squealed when they spotted him.
He wasn't just a driver. He was the bread guy.
In-car dining, bakery edition
Then came the highlight: in-car dining.
Behind the front seats were fold-down tables — just like airplane trays. Pull one out, and suddenly cup holders appeared, side panels extended, and extra space opened up for napkins and wipes. An said he tested eight different products before choosing this one.
Once the bread arrived, he laid out knives, forks, spoons, water and drinks. Then came the extras: balsamic oil, butter and cream cheese — matched carefully to each pastry.
"This one goes best with butter."
"That one needs cream cheese."
"This one, try plain first."
We ate fresh bread right there in the taxi.
When crumbs fell, Ahn pulled out a cordless vacuum. "Please drop as many crumbs as possible," he joked.
Everything was ready. Nothing was accidental. It felt like a moving bakery café.
No waiting, no stress — just cake
Next stop: Sungsimdang inside Lotte Department Store.
We were there for Strawberry Siru cakes — famous for requiring hours of waiting. But An had already reserved them. Instead of lining up for half a day, we walked straight to checkout. Five minutes later, cake in hand.
For travelers, that alone felt like winning the lottery.
The final stop was the "secret" bakery.
No signboard. No big crowds. Just a quiet alley filled with the smell of roasting coffee and fresh bread.
We bought whole wheat campagne and sipped omija tea made with house-made syrup. Sweet. Tart. Refreshing. Perfect with bread.
It felt like a hidden ending scene — the kind you only reach if you take the long way.
Two hours later, the tour wrapped up.
An handed us a Bread Tour Certificate. It read, like an award: "Certified to have participated in the bread tour, eaten deliciously and abundantly, and completed it excellently."
We laughed. We took photos. We carefully packed our bread.
Then An drove us back to our parked car. We said goodbye with arms full of pastries and bags heavy with memories.
A warm, sweet ride
For two hours, Daejeon became a moving bakery. And a taxi became a tiny, rolling café.
We left full. We left smiling. We left smelling faintly of butter and coffee.
And honestly? We'd do it again in a heartbeat.
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