China, a forgotten destination?

Good evening,

I’m also quite interested in this topic. I went there several times about 15 to 20 years ago. I wouldn’t say I was blown away—I found it much less impressive than Japan. The country’s attitude during COVID would really put me off trying it again. I don’t think I’d feel safe, but I’m eagerly waiting to see what others share in this discussion.

Michel

Hi Anne-Claire,

I don’t have any “recent” answers to your question, but since we’re in the travelers’ reflections section, I’ll share my thoughts:

I think China is a victim of the image it projects. Well, both a victim and guilty at the same time. When you travel, you’re looking for freedom. Freedom in your destinations, your choices, your actions. But you don’t have that freedom in China—or at least, you know you’ll be watched, controlled, even corrected. So you don’t go. I loved my trip to Beijing in 2005. I’d love to explore the Chinese countryside and discover its treasures.

But as you said, “this country seems to have become dehumanized,” which my sister-in-law, born in Wuhan and now living in France, would easily confirm. And when I travel, it’s the humanity that interests me…

PS to Michel: I dream of Japan…

Hi, We had planned to visit China for a month and a half in 2020 and had easily obtained a 60-day visa. COVID had other plans. We’ve now scheduled a 3-month trip to China in spring 2025. We’ll keep you posted on our visa application. Based on what we’ve heard, we should get it. We can’t wait to discover this country.

hi there,

I’m well aware that the challenges currently faced by "independent" travelers aren’t the same as the ones I encountered back in the day. But as Montagnard74 put it: "this country seems to have become dehumanized," something my sister-in-law—born in Wuhan and now living in France—would easily confirm. And when I travel, it’s the human connection that interests me..." That’s what I imagine is happening now, and I completely agree. On top of that, there’s still the same issue of surveillance, though I’m sure it’s more subtle these days. Then there are the hordes of Chinese tourists (often quite pushy), armed with selfie sticks, jostling in endless queues—something I’ve noticed in other countries where they’re numerous.

My wife and I traveled through China as backpackers (off the beaten path!) in November 1988—36 years ago now.

There were practically no cars, but thousands of bikes, and almost no Chinese tourists (well, hardly any). You couldn’t pay with a smartphone or credit card. There were two different currencies—one for locals (Renminbi) and one for foreigners (FEC!)—and you had to juggle both. In small eateries or shops, staff didn’t use calculators to add things up; they used an abacus. Nobody spoke a word of English, and we didn’t have Google Translate! Personally, to get around, I’d often draw a train station or a boat. At the station, I’d show a map and point to where we wanted to go, and half the time, they’d respond with "Méi yǒu! Méi yǒu!"—which I took to mean "there isn’t any," or "no, it’s not possible." If we wanted to leave, we’d just buy the same train ticket as the Chinese person next to us in line, and once on the train, I’d try to ask passengers where we were headed! In restaurants, everything was written in Chinese (like everywhere else), and we’d choose based on the prices written on the chalkboard. Since everything was dirt cheap for us, we’d pick the most expensive dishes or just point at what was on another customer’s plate—and it was often a big surprise when it arrived! For accommodation, we avoided tourist hotels—those grim, gray concrete blocks where you didn’t even get a key to your room, and a matron would come to unlock and relock the door. Chinese "hotels" were off-limits to us, but often the owner of a small inn would turn a blind eye if it wasn’t busy, and we’d get an entire dorm to ourselves for just a few francs! In many places, the toilets (WC) were communal—a row of holes in the ground. Workers would empty the pits to fertilize the nearby vegetable fields.

I could share tons of similar stories, but since we were used to traveling a bit adventurously, it didn’t really bother us—in fact, it was part of the fun. That said, the pollution in some cities was already shocking!

Unfortunately, things ended on a bit of a sour note... We were in a fairly touristy area (Guilin/Yangshuo). We’d rented bikes, and since everything was in Chinese, we accidentally took the only forbidden road, leading into a "restricted area." We were stopped by a plainclothes cop, interrogated all afternoon, had our bikes confiscated, and were ordered to go to the police station in the town we’d left (Yangshuo). If I’d been alone, I would’ve left the region without a word—we didn’t have our passports on us, and the cops couldn’t write or pronounce our names. But my wife insisted on doing things by the book, and as a result, we were interrogated a second time and had to pay a fine!

I imagine things have changed a lot since then, but despite that, I don’t really feel like going back to that country!

I read in a major French newspaper that the warming of Franco-Chinese relations had led to a temporary easing of visa requirements.

So until the end of 2025, French travelers will still need to apply for a visa, but it’s free. When you consider what it used to cost, that’s not insignificant!

I read in a major French newspaper that the warming of Franco-Chinese relations had led to a temporary easing of visa requirements.

So until the end of 2025, French citizens will still need to apply for a visa, but it’s free. Given what it used to cost, that’s not insignificant.

Hi there, The visa waiver until the end of 2025 applies to stays of no more than 15 days.

Hi Djalma, I’m taking the liberty of replying. I also traveled through China as a backpacker with three other companions back in 1983, and your whole description really brought back memories of what we experienced.

We left from Hong Kong, which wasn’t yet so sprawling or so tall, and crossing the border to arrive in Canton by train involved navigating chicanes among crowds of locals weighed down with huge sacks—no tourists in sight. We were allowed to stay in 32 cities scattered across the country... the train journeys were endless (in total, we spent a third of our visa time on trains). Even back then, the few Chinese who spoke English had seized the opportunity to find the rare Westerners to exchange official Chinese money for tourist currency. They hung around train station platforms and near hotels, and we took advantage of them while also squeezing out as much info as we could to move forward in the country. What an adventure!!! Of course, we didn’t speak a word of Chinese, but we had a sort of small paper guide for our drop-off points, especially the dormitories in certain hotels specifically reserved for Western tourists, where the floor managers stumbled through English. We stopped in Kunming, Chengdu, Xi’an, Beijing, Shanghai... no cars, just bikes, bikes, and more bikes.

The food was hit-or-miss. We ate like our table neighbors (though we were cleaner than them—they’d spit duck bones right under their chairs)... our elbows stuck to the greasy tablecloths. In Xi’an, once, we ate by following a line of locals who each got a bowl with a ladle of soup scooped from a barrel (my companion Denise said her dog was treated better back home in the French countryside, in the 43). The Chinese spat everywhere—there were pedal-operated spittoons in restaurants and grates in the streets of Shanghai to collect it all... And don’t even get me started on the communal toilets: a row for the ladies, and all those backsides lined up along the trough... I have great memories of that China, so raw and open before us—this China of the cities...

The following year, in 1984, China had opened up a little more, so I went back alone with a companion to venture into the countryside. I had Pearl Buck’s China right before my eyes: villagers in conical hats working in the rice paddies, buffaloes wading in the water while chewing their cud. That was the China of the fields.

I returned to China much later, first to Yunnan from Kunming, and from there to Xishuangbanna to explore the villages and local markets held every five days. The ethnic minorities came from all around, and it was a festival of cultures—except this time, *I* was the minority, drawing all the stares...

My last trip was in 2011, this time to Xinjiang, already in what I’d call ‘rehabilitation.’ In Kashgar, entire streets had been bulldozed, and the animal market had moved 10 km away.

I haven’t felt the urge to continue my explorations. Chinese films (I’m also a cinephile and don’t miss any) show me that China has changed, and I’d be disappointed comparing my memories to today’s reality.

It’s been four years since I’ve traveled. Too many spinal issues mean I can’t stand for more than five minutes, so I now live vicariously through reading the travel journals that have finally returned with VF’s resurrection, and through videos by real travelers on YouTube (I curate my selections).

I wish VF a long life, but sadly, I won’t have any real-time updates to share since travel is completely off the table for me now.

Carassou

Hello, I just got back from a few days in the south, in what the Chinese now call the Greater Bay Area (a triangle of HK / Guangzhou / Macau).

It’s not my first time there—I first visited in the early 90s, and it was quite an experience.

I’ve been back many times since, but only for very short stays.

Anyway, you can see the country’s ultra-rapid development with the naked eye: skyscrapers as far as the eye can see, super-modern high-speed trains and stations, cranes and bridges under construction everywhere—it often feels like a sci-fi movie.

Not many people speak English, but in the south, folks are smiley and friendly, nothing like the colder vibe up north. It’s super easy to get around on your own without speaking Chinese—taxis are cheap, and while it’s not always easy to figure out what you’re ordering in restaurants, life isn’t expensive, even in these urban centers. What strikes me the most—something I’d already noticed in Beijing a few years ago—is the use of only electric vehicles in cities. In Guangzhou, there are hundreds of scooters (even on the sidewalks) gliding along without a sound. Chinese cities have become much quieter than ours… and everything’s clean. I also got approached by a sex worker (not 100% sure, but pretty confident)—surprising in such a tightly controlled society. *wink wink*

Verdict: With the 15-day visa-free entry, don’t hesitate to go check it out. This country is a massive playground for insane travel possibilities… and it’s not too expensive to get there either.

So until the end of 2025, French travelers will still need to apply for a visa, but it’s free. When you consider what it used to cost, that’s not insignificant.

No, actually, it’s a visa exemption, not a free visa.

So until the end of 2025, French travelers will still need to apply for a visa, but it’s free. When you knew the cost before, that’s not insignificant.

No, actually, it’s a visa exemption, not a free visa.

...and to clarify, it also applies to land entries—I had doubts when crossing on foot, but it’s all good. And they stamp your passport, unlike the exemptions for Hong Kong or Macao, where it’s just a loose sheet.

We left Hong Kong, which wasn’t yet so sprawling or tall, and crossing the border to reach Guangzhou by train involved navigating barriers among crowds of local Chinese weighed down by huge sacks—no tourists in sight.

Same for us. We crossed the border at Shenzhen heading to Guangzhou. Then we explored much of southern China, including (if I remember right) Guilin and Yunnan: Kunming, Jinghong (Xishuangbanna), near Laos and Myanmar, before heading back up to Dali. Sure enough, when they issued our visa, they gave us a "miniature" map along with a list of authorized cities. Sometimes we didn’t quite understand where the train was going, so we definitely made stops we probably shouldn’t have! Yet it was when we got "back on track" in a touristy city (Guilin/Yangshuo) that we got stopped by the police... as soon as you left a city, you risked entering a "restricted" area! A bit of a bummer for those who don’t really like cities—especially the ugly, hyper-polluted Chinese ones like Guilin back then. The factories spewed so much smoke that all the buildings were black!

Guangzhou. First surprises: the butcher stalls in the markets where they were cutting up dogs... Later, we saw more of these canines crammed into cages, barely alive! Restaurant fronts with cages holding all sorts of animals ready to be eaten: raccoon dogs, squirrel-like creatures, hamsters, amphibians, snakes, and plenty of other critters... Other surprises: traditional pharmacies (blended seamlessly with "modern" ones) where you could see all kinds of dried animals—lizards, bats, scorpions, bovine horns, feline paws or testicles, etc.—along with countless dried plants and minerals. Surgeries on the sidewalks! (I think it was in Kunming.) I saw a guy getting a growth removed from his back with a scalpel—no sterilization at all! A whole crowd was watching!

Even the few Chinese who spoke English had seized the opportunity to find the rare Westerners to exchange official Chinese money for tourist currency.

Yeah, we were often approached for "black-market exchanges" in the middle of crowds. You had to stay alert and keep a tight grip on your cash before receiving the Chinese bills, because the police might show up and the money changers could vanish with your FECs!

The food was hit-or-miss; we ate like our table neighbors (though we were cleaner than them, spitting their duck bones at the foot of their chairs)... our elbows stuck to the greasy tablecloths. In Xi’an, once, we ate by following a line of locals who each got a bowl with a ladle of soup from a barrel.

Overall, we found it not bad and especially very varied (lots of veggies we’d never seen before), though hygiene was sometimes questionable. Watching the Chinese eat... surprising! Before ordering, they’d meticulously wipe their utensils, chairs, tablecloths, etc., but once they started eating—what a show! They’d spit bones or shellfish shells on the floor *and* the table. Everywhere! At the end of the meal, the waiter would sweep the floor *and* the tablecloth, and all the leftovers and trash would end up on the sidewalk, then in the gutter!

The Chinese spat everywhere; there were pedal-operated spittoons in restaurants and grates in the streets of Shanghai to collect it...

I remember in Kunming, one drizzly day, the sidewalks got really slippery from all the spit! On the hotel TV, there were "educational ads"—even without understanding Chinese, the images spoke for themselves, showing everything you *shouldn’t* do, like spitting everywhere... Later, I learned there were big behavioral differences between the north (Beijing), which was better-mannered, and the south, much more "rustic." We’d only traveled through the south—from Guangzhou to Yunnan.

Oh yeah, it was pretty wild back then…

But the lives of hundreds of millions of people have completely transformed in 40 years… and we could debate endlessly about the invasion of unbridled consumer society, but life is easier for them in 2024 than it was in 1984.

And no one’s even mentioned the public toilets from that era yet!!! Such vivid—and *fragrant*—memories!!!!!

Two of us here have talked about public restrooms.

And no one’s mentioned the public toilets of that era yet! Such vivid—and smelly—memories!!!!!

I’m not sure if we’re talking about the same thing, but the “toilets” I mentioned in my first post were, of course, public but had the unique feature of being communal—meaning there was no separation between each “user.” So you could end up side by side with others, pants down over each hole... People weren’t checking their smartphones but could chat with each other.

Oh yes, they were. And they were smoking at the same time too.

Thanks to everyone for your comments and stories—they really made me laugh. Nice to be exchanging again! [:)]

(Carassou, sorry to hear about your back problems.)

So, we’re going to test out this "new" China next year, fully aware it’ll be very different from the one we experienced in 2004 and 2005—probably a bit dehumanized, as I mentioned, at least in the cities.

We’ve gotten older, so we’ll skip the backpacker mode we used to do... Transportation will be by car with a driver in Gansu, a province we don’t know yet.

Hope we won’t be too disappointed by this China that still fascinates me!

And don’t forget the trip report ;)

There’ll definitely be a "report" in my My Atlas travel journals! Have a great day