Ez nekem kínai is a Hungarian idiom — literally “this is Chinese to me,” the way English speakers say “it’s all Greek to me.” When Donat and I spent three weeks travelling across China in September 2018, the title picked itself.
Calling it a project is a stretch — it was really a trip, an event — but it had the shape of one: a start, an end, a pile of logistics, and a blog to document it as we went. That included a running “China WTFs” list for the small daily culture shocks, which never stopped coming.
We started in Shanghai — the Bund at sunset, the sheer scale of everything — then flew inland to Zhangjiajie to climb Tianmen Mountain and wander the sandstone pillars the region is famous for. We finished in Hong Kong: the view from Victoria Peak, the Big Buddha and the viewing platform at Ngong Ping out on Lantau, a slower day on Lamma Island, and more dim sum than was strictly wise.






Three weeks was long enough to get past the postcard version and start noticing how differently a billion people do the ordinary things — queueing, paying, eating, being a tourist. At one point a coach-load of domestic tourists queued up to take selfies with us, which is its own kind of culture shock. The whole thing was overwhelming and brilliant in roughly equal measure.
It’s all still up on the blog we kept, photos and all.
