I Went to China Alone (First Time)—Here’s What Really Happened

Shanghai - that's where I went.

No real plan, no travel buddy, just a quiet urge to disappear somewhere unfamiliar. But if I’m honest, I was scared. Scared of the language barrier, scared of getting lost.

But somehow fear became the very reason I booked that flight to Shanghai. I wanted to see whether I could exist in a city where I couldn’t rely on language, familiarity, or anyone else. I wanted to test how far curiosity can take me when my comfort zone is thousands of miles behind.

My First Panic Moment in Shanghai—Not Even 24 Hours In

I landed close to 12.30 am at Shanghai Pudong - I was nervous as hell (imagine being deported), but it was a breeze immigration process. Shanghai is so cold, like 10 degrees and raining. Still, I felt a little proud. I made it. Solo. China.

All I had to do was book a Didi and head to my hostel near Nanjing Road.

Sounds easy, right?

That’s when everything started to fall apart.

Because of translation errors in both WeChat and Didi, the location pinned wasn’t the right place.I didn’t know it yet. The driver didn’t know it either. He dropped me off, said goodbye, and disappeared into the rain. And suddenly…I was alone at 2:00 AM, standing in front of a building that looked nothing like a hostel. No sign. No English anywhere. All shops are closed. Rainis is getting heavier. My suitcase splashes through every puddle.

Google Maps insisted I was “here.”My gut insisted I wasn’t.

For the next 15 minutes, I dragged my bag down empty streets, heart racing, panic building with every wrong turn. No people. No taxis. No sound except the rain and my suitcase wheels.

That walk felt like an hour.But eventually, a small sign appeared through the rain—a hostel logo I recognised. Finally!

Day 1: My first Impression.

I arrived in late March, that time of year when it’s not really winter anymore but not yet spring. The weather was chilly, around 10–14°C, and the light rain made the city feel calm and a bit dreamy. The first thing I noticed was the trees with no leaves, standing quietly along the streets.

What surprised me most was how busy, modern, and clean Shanghai is. Electric cars were everywhere, moving almost silently. People walked fast, dressed in long trench coats and layered outfits that looked very stylish.

Shanghai was a city where everything ran on QR codes. Menus, ordering food, payments, even calling for service—it’s all QR. Your phone basically your life line.

Ordering My First Meal in Shanghai—A Struggle

One night during dinner time, I saw a restaurant that looked empty — not a single customer inside. Perfect, I thought. No people means less pressure, right? So I quietly walked in and went straight to the corner table, trying to “hide” just in case I didn’t know what to do.

But the strange part was… no waiter came to me. No menu. No greeting. Nothing.

I sat there pretending to look confident, but inside I was panicking. I saw a small sticker on the table with Chinese words, so I pressed it, thinking it was a service button. But nope — it was actually the scan-to-pay QR code. Totally not what I needed. After using my Google camera to translate the stickers (bless Google Lens), I finally found another tiny sticker that said “Order Here.” Only then did I realise this restaurant was completely self-service. No waiters. No paper menu. Everything was online.

So I scanned the code and started ordering. That’s when the real disaster happened.

I saw a picture of xiao long bao, but the photo made the dumplings look small. Tiny, actually. So I ordered four, thinking they were mini size. When the food arrived…They were JUMBO. HUGE. GIANT. Like xiao long bao on steroids. I wanted to hide under the table. The waiter placed it in front of me with a straight face, and I just sat there, embarrassed, staring at four giant dumplings like I accidentally joined some eating competition.

But honestly? They were delicious. And now it’s one of those travel moments I laugh about — the kind that only happens when you travel alone and have no idea what you’re doing.

Language Barrier? We Still Understood Each Other

I don’t speak Chinese, and most people I met didn’t speak English either. At first, it felt scary—especially when everything around me was written in Chinese characters.

But I quickly learned that communication doesn’t always need words.

At food markets and small shops, I used a lot of sign language. I pointed at what I wanted, smiled, and used Google Translate when needed. Sometimes I just showed my phone and let them read it. For prices, I asked “duō shǎo?” (how much), and they would show the number on a calculator or on their phone. Simple and effective.

It wasn’t perfect, but it worked. No one rushed me, and most people were patient. We didn’t speak the same language, but somehow, we still understood each other.

I Thought I Was Done—Then This Happened...

On my last day in China, I thought everything was done. I was already at immigration, ready to leave Shanghai, when an officer suddenly called me aside. He asked me where I went in China. I answered honestly and said, “Nanjing Road.”

Suddenly, he started speaking in Chinese and called another officer. They took me to a separate room and asked more questions—why I went to Nanjing, for what purpose, and how long I stayed there. At that moment, I felt confused and nervous. Did I do something wrong? Then it hit me.

They thought I meant Nanjing the city, not Nanjing Road in Shanghai.

I quickly showed them everything on my phone—my travel photos, food pictures, sightseeing spots, and even my hop-on hop-off bus ticket around Shanghai. I pointed at the photos and explained again, slowly. After a few minutes, they understood. The officers nodded, handed back my passport, and let me go. I walked out feeling relieved—and a little amused. One word can really change everything.

Tip: Take your photos. A lot of them. They might save you one day, just like they saved me.

“Would I Travel to China Alone Again?”

Absolutely.

China was not easy at first. I panicked, I got confused, I felt awkward, and I made mistakes. But that’s exactly why this trip mattered to me. Every small challenge made me more confident—figuring out transport, ordering food, communicating without words, and trusting myself in a place that once scared me.

If I came back, I’d prepare better. I’d set up all my apps earlier, learn a few more basic Chinese words, and stress less about being “perfect.” Because once you’re there, you realise people are just people, and most things work out.

And I would do it again—without hesitation