Snippets of Yantai.

Snippets of Yantai. Shandong Province, China.

August 2009.

Cover photo courtesy of Hao Lin Photos.

By mid August in the summer of 2009 my travels in China were approaching the one month mark. In truth it had been a dizzying full-on adventure packed with unforgettable experiences.

From my first days exploring Beijing and the culinary delights of Tianjin, to playing badminton with locals in Jinan and ringing the bell atop Kuixing Pavilion in the isolated rural outpost of Zhujiayu.

Moreover, I had conquered one of China’s Five Great Mountains in Tai’an, stopped by the grave of Confucius in Qufu and lived out my rock star fantasies in the coastal city of Qingdao. Perhaps, unsurprisingly I was now feeling quite knackered.

I’d been in Qingdao for over a week when I realised that I fancied a change of location. However, this time I just wanted somewhere to have a rest. Drop the sightseeing for a while and recharge.

It was a fellow traveller at The Old Observatory Hostel who suggested Yantai. “It’s really off the map” he assured me. “The beaches are much nicer than in Qingdao and the whole city has a sleepy vibe”.

Snippets of Yantai.

It was an easy decision to take the bus to Yantai. The journey took three hours and flew by without incident. I was just starting to think everything was going to be perfect when I arrived at the thoroughly miserable Yantai International Youth Hostel.

After some really decent accommodation experiences in the weeks leading up to Yantai, this was a return to rock bottom. Nevertheless, I have some amusing memories of the place. Not least when, in the middle of the night, I unintentionally scared the shit out of the poor girl at reception.

I’d been up on the computer listening to QPR’s opening Championship match against Blackpool. There were just a few minuets left when QPR defender Peter Ramage rose highest to head home a dramatic equaliser to make the score 1-1.

With my headphones on, I celebrated with a wall-shaking “Yeeeeeeeesss!” only to see the receptionist, who’d been sleeping at her desk, quite literally jump up out of her chair in absolute confusion and horror. She was not impressed and a few minutes later I sheepishly retired to my room.

“YEEEEEEEEESSS!” 

Hostel shenanigans aside, my visit to Yantai unfurled via a string of long, lazy, glorious beach days. Indeed it felt liberating to sweep aside any urges to go exploring. Each day I would set out to the nearby Beach Number 2 (Golden Beach). Along the way, I got into the habit of picking up some slices of melon from a local street vendor.

I can’t pretend Yantai’s beaches were the prettiest I’ve ever seen. But they were nice enough and, unlike Qingdao, there were no teeming masses to contend with.

Rather, I came across pockets of locals taking a stroll. An elderly woman walking her dog. A gentleman covered in sand, sleeping under an umbrella. Yes, this was a side of China that I hadn’t seen before and wanted to see more of.

For the first few days I became part of the general languor. I slept, read my book (wish I could remember the title) and went swimming in the warm Yellow Sea.

Snippets of Yantai.

When restlessness began to set in, I took a walk to see how far down the coast I could get. It was the perfect opportunity to reflect on my China travels thus far.

And also to look ahead, with a touch of trepidation, to my return to Beijing where I had to attend a training course in order to land an English teaching job. Little did I know the chaos that awaited. To find out all about it, check out my short story Camp America.

As I progressed, there were low-key but delightful encounters aplenty. First, I stopped to watch a row of local fisherman with their rods dangling into the sea.

One of them was so tickled to meet me he loaned me his rod and let me take over for a while. I didn’t catch a bite.

Further on, at a deserted stretch of Yantai’s golden sands, I came across an abandoned lifeguard station. The thing positively begged me to scale it. Which I duly did, then sat atop it for a while just staring out to sea feeling like the king of Yantai.

I had come to Yantai prepared for the fact that I might come across a lot of jellyfish. And so it proved, as they were absolutely everywhere! Bobbing haphazardly around my feet as I paddled in the sea. Washed up dead on the beach and, in some cases, caught in the net of local street food vendors who put them straight onto the evening’s fresh seafood menu.

Jellyfish Hunters.

What’s more, I will never forget the moment I saw a man pluck a large jellyfish out of the sea with his bare hands. Visibly delighted and proud, he played up to my camera by holding the creature in front of me with a wide grin. He then ripped off its tentacles and popped the poor thing into a plastic bag. Yikes.

In the evenings I invariably gorged on seafood with a couple of beers. For the most part I frequented a local street market near the hostel.

They offered all kinds of barbecued meat sticks along with every imaginable fish dish, in addition to some unimaginable ones.

Finally, Yantai proved memorable for the night I randomly walked into a pool hall and ended up playing the local shark. It was a highly amusing encounter that briefly thrust me into the heart of the local youth culture. For the full story, and indeed more on Yantai, have a read of my short story  The Jellyfish Factor.

Like this? The Jellyfish Factor comes from my short story collection  Challenged In China.

Alternatively, why not leaf through my many location reports from around Shandong Province.

Cast your net wider with a look at my zillion articles from across China.

I’ve been living, working and traveling all over the world since 2001. So why not check out my huge library of travel reports from over 40 countries.

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