I believe it was three years ago that I wrote a travelogue with the same title. I mentioned it back then, but anyone in a profession that requires frequent overseas travel will likely relate: business trips are not vacations. A distant, foreign land is not an exciting place filled with adventure and the unknown. It is simply a workplace that takes a hell of a long time to reach.

Since that time three years ago, I have been on countless trips. With anywhere from four to eight trips a year, I spend about a month of every year sleeping in overseas hotels. And now, in June 2026, another trip has been scheduled.

This is my fourth trip this year, but the destination is a bit different. Unlike my usual routine of traveling between Japan, the U.S., or China, this time the destination is 'France.' After the trip was confirmed, I went home and shared the news, and my wife said with a look of envy.

"I'm so jealous... You should go see the Eiffel Tower while you're there."

Honestly, I got a bit choked up.

I don't even have time to look at anything, let alone sightsee. When I grumbled, my wife said again.

"But isn't it nice just to be going abroad?"

'No... I prefer being at home...'

Since words weren't working, I had no choice but to show her.

I'm heading to Paris.

Departure on Thursday, return on Sunday. That was my schedule. The event I had to cover was on Friday. I leave Thursday, arrive that same evening, sleep, cover the event the next day, and then head back to the airport the following morning. Should I call it a four-day trip with two nights? In fact, most short-term business trips are this tight.

The itinerary involves arriving just before the event and leaving right after. Sometimes it's even worse—leaving on a morning flight, covering the event, and returning the next day. For places as close as Japan or as awkwardly distant as Hong Kong, these one-night, two-day business trips are not uncommon.

Anyway, I woke up early and headed to Incheon Airport for a smooth departure. I finished the check-in process at the speed of light, polished off a bowl of Jjamppong as my final 'spicy broth' fix, and boarded on time. During the downtime, I watched YouTube videos about various aviation incidents. I don't know why, but whenever I'm at the airport, I end up watching these.

A 14-hour flight is terrible. It gets worse as you get older. Every time I stand up, my knees and lower back make involuntary 'cracking' sounds. But it's fine. I'm a pro at long-haul flights. Fortunately, Air France provided very smooth in-flight internet via Starlink—enough to watch videos on YouTube. As I passed the time with such trivial tasks, I suddenly found myself in French airspace.

Realizing the power of the South Korean passport, I breezed through immigration where there wasn't even a line, picked up my luggage, and took an Uber. The fare from the airport to my accommodation was about €55. It's nearly ₩100,000, but there was no choice. As it happened, four sections of the Paris metro were suspended for construction, so I had no other options.

It was 8:30 PM. There is one thing that would seem quite strange to Koreans: in this part of the world, the sun just doesn't seem to set.

Actually, this isn't my first time in France. I came once for a backpacking trip in 2012 and once for my honeymoon in 2019, so I've been coming every seven years. I felt it back then, too, but Europe has agonizingly long days. In the UK, which is at a higher latitude, it stays bright until nearly 10 PM. It had been an hour since I got in the Uber, and it was 9:30 PM. Even as I was arriving at the hotel, the sun was still blazing.

But anyway, why is it so hot?

It's too hot. The temperature was 33 degrees at 9:30 PM. I barely managed to get into the hotel, but the hotel was hot. I went into my room, and the room was hot. Even with the AC turned to the max, it was hot. Even after a shower, it was hot. At this point, I felt like something was wrong.

The misery and despair when an interview is completely lost

I managed to get some sleep, and the next day arrived. Since I usually fall asleep at 3 or 4 AM in Korea, there was no jet lag. The day started with me taking an Uber to the venue with a reporter from a Chinese media outlet and a manager based in Hong Kong. This event had no Korean interpretation or language support. My English isn't exactly excellent, but if you just dive in, you find a way.

The strange thing is that the company running this event is not French or European, but 'KONAMI' from 'Japan.' Since the developer that participated in the joint development is based in France and the game's setting is also France, they gathered Asian reporters all the way to this distant European land. Earlier this year, Ubisoft held an event in Japan, and I went with a light heart; I felt like I was paying the price for that convenience now.

"Did you know? We're the only ones staying at this hotel. Everyone else is at a hotel near the event venue."

"Why is that?"

"They say there's a problem with the AC at that hotel, so the rooms are unusable?"

"Really? (I thought my room was just broken)"

After making small talk with the manager from Hong Kong, we arrived at the venue. The venue was the 'Joan of Arc Chapel,' which used to be a place of worship but is now used for events like this.

The Joan of Arc Chapel was decorated perfectly for the game being featured that day, 'Castlevania: The Curse of Belmont.' After all, 'Joan of Arc' appears in the new Castlevania game. From this point on, a grand psychological battle among global reporters begins. For domestic events, you can usually get guidance from PR team members you know and meet often, and the same goes for overseas events hosted by domestic companies. But for events you attend by invitation like this, the number of staff members acting as guides is pitifully small compared to the number of reporters. This is even more true when people gather from all over the world. I have seen countless foreign reporters left to their own devices or fumbling around because they didn't know what to do at numerous events.

Naturally, thinking that someone will lead you and help you work is a miscalculation. You have to find things out for yourself and do something to be a reporter who earns their airfare. You have to prick up your ears to remember every single conversation the staff has among themselves, and you have to do everything you can to get a story. This is especially true for events held in the West. They basically have no interest in reporters.

At this point, I dare say everyone at the venue probably felt the same way. It was terribly, terribly hot. Although the Joan of Arc Chapel is a relatively recent building constructed with reinforced concrete, it is still well over 100 years old. What does that mean? There is no air conditioning.

This sweltering weather created another problem: because it was so hot, the organizers ran a huge number of fans all over the venue. They even had massive fans running in the interview room, which was the space where the altar—the center of the chapel—was placed. As those who know will understand, when you speak here, the sound echoes and reverberates. Very majestically.

The combination of the majestically echoing voices, the massive fan noise, and the French-accented English meant the interview content was completely lost. Forget recording; even listening from right in front of them, I couldn't hear a thing. My heart was pounding, and I was breaking into a cold sweat. I came all this way to conduct the most important interview, and the content is all gone?

It's a major disaster that leaves you feeling dazed, but there is always a solution. First, I listened as much as I could, then approached the manager and asked if I could request additional questions in writing. The manager readily agreed, and I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. If something is missing, you just fill it in later. There are many ways to do that.

After that, several hours of gameplay followed. To leave a short impression, 'Castlevania: The Curse of Belmont' is quite well-made and an interesting work. Should I say it shows the gameplay quality befitting its name as the origin of the genre? I've separated my first impressions of the gameplay into a separate article, so you can look for that for more details.

Anyway, the event wrapped up, and a dinner with everyone was arranged. I have nothing to say about the dinner. I was lonely because I was the only one from Korea. Everyone else was communicating in Chinese. After finishing dinner, I returned in the middle of the night (though it was still bright). Paris is still hot.

I'm so hot. I miss Korea.

The next day.

At this point, perhaps realizing that Europe was insanely hot, I woke up to messages from acquaintances checking if I was alive. While answering texts like 'Are you alive?', 'Is it really that hot?', and 'How's the weather?', I saw an incredible image. I knew that hot weather was marked in red, but it was my first time seeing black.

My return flight was at 2:40 PM. It's a flight that leaves France during the day, passes through the night, and arrives in Korea at 9:40 AM the next day. The ideal arrival time at the airport is around 12:00. I usually leave with about 3 hours to spare, but this time, I exceptionally decided to leave as soon as I woke up. The hotel room was so hot that there was no point in staying. I figured it would be better to be in an Uber, regardless of the commute time.

I packed my bags at the speed of light and checked out. I had paid €100 as a deposit when checking in, but 16.€9 were deducted. When I asked what it was for, the hotel manager replied, 'City tourist tax.' It turns out that starting this year, Paris has been charging a tax to tourists staying in the city based on the accommodation's Grade. Even though the AC didn't work well, the hotel was a 4-star property, so it was 8.€45 per night. That's about ₩15k per day in Korean currency.

I just nodded and paid because I wanted to escape quickly, then called an Uber. I barely managed to catch one, but the driver, like a true Parisian, didn't turn on the AC—the culprit of climate change—and rolled down the windows instead. The wind was scorching hot.

On the way to the airport, I reviewed my short two-night, three-day business trip to Paris. The Eiffel Tower? Didn't see it. Notre-Dame Cathedral? Saw it in the game. It was burning again. The Louvre Museum? Didn't see that either. The Champs-Élysées? My last visit was seven years ago. All I remember is Castlevania. And the sweltering heat. I only have memories of it being really, really hot. I went on a business trip to Singapore with a similar schedule just a month ago in May, and Singapore is much cooler. That's because Mr. Lee Kuan Yew installed air conditioning all over the city.

I arrived at the airport. I ate a burger at a hot McDonald's and went through the process. And the 30-minute journey from departure procedures to security was truly the most hellish part of this trip. In that area where so many people were gathered, there wasn't a single air conditioner. What does that mean? Let's visit Paris when it's cool. A summer trip to Europe is death.

I think I've written the word 'hot' about 200 times in this article, but that's how hot it was. The most terrible thing amidst that heat was that there was nowhere to run. It was hot everywhere. There wasn't a single cool place within my reach. Watching the news about the European heatwave after returning to Korea, I can feel their pain. The most terrible thing is that there is nowhere to run. At the very least, we can run to a bank, but they are hot wherever they go. So let's stop saying mean things like 'serves them right.' People are dying.

The journey back to Korea was so comfortable. It's a 12-hour flight, but it was so cool inside the plane that I felt chilly. The Koreans returning home and the French people traveling to Korea all had smiles on their faces. Yes, it's so cool. As expected, the Wi-Fi on the return flight worked perfectly. This is what travel is.

Arrived in Korea in the morning. The weather is so nice. And above all, it's cool. My wife complained that the Korean summer is also hot, but hell is better than a lake of fire. Ah, so refreshing. I love Korea.