Seoul for The Time Travellers: a Friday-to-Monday weekend

Zaha Hadid's 45,000 aluminium panels, no two alike, poured over the site of a demolished baseball stadium; walk the Design Pathway spiral from the roof garden down.

Kim Swoo-geun's 1967 kilometre-long megastructure, half demolished and half reborn; take the raised deck at dusk for the axis straight to Jongmyo's roofs.

Dried pollack and draught beer at plastic tables under the arcades of the old tool district, the city's most honest piece of informal architecture.

The first palace of the dynasty, 1395, burnt twice and rebuilt; the guard change at ten, then the Gyeonghoeru pavilion on its pond with forty-eight stone columns.

The rear garden is only seen on the guided walk, which is the point: ninety minutes of pavilions and ponds in a valley the kings kept for themselves; book the English slot.

Temple cooking by a former monk in a hanok off the antiques street, twenty small dishes of mountain vegetables, and a folk-dance performance at eight.

David Chipperfield's single pale cube with three gardens cut out of its sides; the public atrium is open and the APMA galleries below hold the company's collection.

Walk the Jamsu lower deck, built to flood, under the double-decker Banpo bridge, then follow the river to Dongjak and count the thirty-odd crossings between the mountains.

A 1970s rice warehouse with its trusses and brick left exposed, now a gallery, café and restaurant in the district where the city's shoe factories became studios.

MVRDV's 1970 motorway flyover turned into a concrete garden walk in 2017, with 24,000 plants in pots arranged by Korean alphabetical order of species.

The 1956 coffee house above Daehangno where the students who brought down a president in April 1960 planned it over Vienna coffee; the LPs still play.

Kimchi jjigae and egg roll at a shared table in a one-room restaurant that has fed the ministries and newspapers of Gwanghwamun for sixty years.