“Ulsan for you” — the slogan jumped off the guidebook page as I searched for my second destination in Korea. I had spontaneously decided on the trip when my hometown soccer team, the Los Angeles Galaxy, scheduled a match in Seoul.

Korea and soccer are both on my short list of passions, so even the thought of braving the game in winter did not deter my whimsical impulse. I went to high school in Seoul long ago and consider it my second home. Each time I return, I look for a new discovery. This time I would explore Ulsan, a port city on the East Sea.

On the flight over, the purser was curious about my journey to his homeland. My interest in soccer surprised him, but my second stop confounded him. “Why Ulsan?”

“Every city has its unique charm, and I will find Ulsan’s, right after the match,” I replied.

Game day was a crisp March afternoon. I sported my Los Angeles Galaxy scarf to keep my nose warm while displaying team spirit. As excited fans surged into the stadium, two American girls shouted, “Where did you get the scarf?” My reply, “In L.A.” brought disappointment, quickly remedied when I tossed them extra shirts.

The crowd cheered wildly as the teams took the field. Many Koreans donned the jersey of Galaxy captain David Beckham, whose every move brought them to their feet. Just the same, they were ecstatic when the home team won.

One mission accomplished. Next stop: Ulsan!

From Seoul station, I took the high-speed KTX train headed south to Daegu, then changed to an express bus for the quick jaunt into Ulsan. I looked forward to the scenic fourhour journey through the countryside of rice fields, mountains and, perhaps, early cherry blossoms.

Upon entering Ulsan, I saw a white heron standing in the Taehwa River. The bird took flight as we passed, gliding alongside the bus as if to welcome visitors. I liked Ulsan already.

Just then, my phone rang. A Korean friend had asked other friends to show me around Ulsan. (In Korea there is a saying, “Your friend is my friend.”) My two new friends, the unrelated Mr. Choi and Miss Choi, greeted me at the bus station.

I jumped in the minivan, having no idea what lay ahead. Imagine my delight when we arrived at Munsu Football Stadium, a World Cup 2002 venue. The massive structure resembles a king’s crown surrounded by pure nature — Mt. Munsu, Mt. Namsan, a lake and forest — landing it on the list of “12 Scenic Sights in Ulsan.” On the stroll through World Cup Memorial Hall, I marveled at the display of official memorabilia and smiled as I passed the mosaic featuring Korean soccer great Hong Myung Bo, who later played for “my” Los Angeles Galaxy.

Then onto the pitch. The immensity was at once awesome and humbling. Standing mid-field gave a new perspective of the skill required to place the ball in the goal. Fans should have more sympathy when players miss shots, I thought.

As I turned to take it all in, the big screen caught my eye. At that moment, Ulsan was for me alone, for the message in bright lights read, “Welcome Maureen O’Crowley’s.”

I was touched by the warm gesture — extra letter and all.

For lunch, I expected seafood, but found Ulsan equally renowned for beef. We dined in a traditional restaurant, sitting on the floor around a table with a built-in grill. Once a dish reserved for royalty, eonyang bonggye bulgogi hails from local cows and is so delicious and tender it is served unseasoned. An assortment of spicy side dishes and a bottle of Soju rice wine complemented the meal. I toasted Ulsan’s markedly warmer weather. Miss Choi agreed, “Luckily, our winters are mild. It snows maybe twice a year.”

Since gray whales migrate just offshore, mention Ulsan and most Koreans think “whales.” Others refer to the industrialized city as “the Republic of Hyundai.” After touring the Hyundai Heavy Industry complex, I knew why.

That day, I found both a new appreciation for soccer and an admiration for the ability of a company with vision to br ing about extraordinary change. In 30 years, Ulsan has gone from a sleepy fishing village to a thriving city, home to shipbuilding, petrochemical plants and automobile manufacturing. Just as visits to Detroit and Stuttgart highlight the corresponding importance of Ford and Mercedes-Benz, a visit to Ulsan shows the historical transformation that Hyundai helped forge in Korea.

Mr. Choi apologized for speeding past the black pebble beach, saying, “We must hurry.” After the stadium welcome and an up-close encounter with the biggest ship I had ever seen, I could not imagine what was next. “We cannot keep the mayor waiting,” he added.

Mayor Park Maeng Woo welcomed me with the warm smile of a good friend. The popular politician is proud of his city, but realizes that the benefits reaped from rapid industrial advances came at the expense of the environment. Clean-up efforts are in progress, and a new Ulsan is emerging. The mayor is determined to change the city’s image — an effort to entice visitors. The return of swans and herons to the Taehwa River is a welcome sight. I wondered if the plants and birds that decorate his office serve as living reminders of Ulsan’s need for eco-vigilance.

As I left, the mayor presented me with a gift from the premier tourist attraction, the Bangudae petroglyphs — most appropriately, a rock carving of a whale.

At sunset, our last stop was Ulsan’s bamboo forest, where my wish to see cherry blossoms came true. Strolling through this romantic lovers’ lane made us laugh at our lack of partners, and we each vowed to return with a lover next time.

That night, as I enjoyed the city lights from my hotel window, the flight purser crossed my mind. I now had a much better answer for him. I had fun in Ulsan and, though my name in lights may not have been my 15 minutes of fame, I loved every moment.

The next morning, Ulsan had one last surprise for me. When I peeked out the window, I found a city blanketed in glistening snow. Now, where is my scarf?