A Slow Year, A Seaside Break: Our Escape to Qingdao
Last year was the year we tried to make it happen. Working from home, launching our own projects, dreaming of that digital nomad life. We knew it wouldn’t be easy, and surprise: it wasn’t. Earnings didn’t roll in like we’d hoped, but the work didn’t stop. Still, after months of grinding away from our apartment, we promised ourselves one real holiday. Just one.
We didn’t want to stay close. The cities in the south, while each has its charm, start to blur together after a while. Same food, same temples, same rhythm. We wanted to see something else. Something different. So we looked north and set our sights on Qingdao, a coastal city with history, beer, and, hopefully, some peace.
Since the train ride from Guangzhou would be long, we added a stopover in Nanjing. We arrived just in time for lunch and found a good vegetarian buffet near the old town. Then we wandered a bit, not pushing ourselves too much. The city felt easy that first day, and that was enough.
The next morning, we headed to Zhongshan National Park, a vast green hill draped in pagodas, paths, and forest air. It was a sunny, clear day, perfect for walking. The route there was quiet, peaceful, even a little magical. But by the time we turned back, the forest road had filled with photographers and influencers. Apparently, it’s a social media hotspot. The serenity faded fast.
Tired of crowds, we made a quick decision: back to the train station. We caught the next high-speed ride to Qingdao, ready for the sea.
Qingdao: The Charm, The Chaos, and the Clean Escape
Qingdao welcomed us with two surprises. First, how beautiful it is. Really! The old German-style buildings were well preserved, colorful, and full of character. The second surprise? Our hotel. Less charming. The room was dirty, poorly maintained, and just felt off. It was already late, so we debated whether to switch immediately or stick it out. In the end, we decided to stay just that one night and move to our seaside hotel a day earlier than planned.
The next morning, we set off to see what the city had to offer. A stroll along the seaside promenade in the early light gave us our first breath of what we’d been hoping for. Waves, sea breeze, the kind of quiet that only comes near water.
From there, we walked through Qingdao’s central neighborhoods, slowly climbing a hill through sleepy residential streets. At the top, we found a small park with great views of the city and the coastline stretching into the horizon. We sat in the sunshine, drank something called “beer coffee”, yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like, and just took it all in.
Qingdao’s Quiet Side: Cliffs, Coffee, and the Life We Want
After exploring central Qingdao, with its coastal promenade, European charm, and the not so nice “beer coffee” on a hilltop, we were ready for what we called the real vacation. That afternoon, we left the city buzz behind and headed toward the Laoshan district, the seaside stretch where mountains meet the sea in all the best ways.
Our hotel was just between the sea and hills, surrounded by some tea fields and vegetable gardens. It wasn’t super fancy, but it was perfect. The kind of place where you wake up to mountain air and go to sleep to the sound of the wind moving through pine trees.
We walked down small paths through gardens, passing rows of cabbages, green onions, and tea bushes. After just 10 or 15 minutes, we’d reach the sea. Sometimes calm, sometimes wild, always beautiful. On other days, we’d take the trail up instead, climbing through light forest to the top of a cliff or hill. The hike took maybe 20–30 minutes, and the view was worth it: rugged coastline, sea spray below, endless sky above.
And that was our rhythm. For four whole days. A few short hikes. Home-cooked meals. A balcony where we worked a little, or simply sat doing nothing. That’s where we learned you can steam tofu and dip it into a dressing of soy sauce and vinegar. It sounds simple, and it is. But it’s also the kind of thing that sticks with you. Comfort, warmth, and just enough effort.
We didn’t do much, and that was exactly the point. We let the world slow down and found ourselves again between the hills and the water.
Eventually, we had to leave. We packed our bags, said goodbye to the mountains, and boarded the train back to Guangzhou. But something had changed. We came back rested. But more than that, we came back with a clear idea of the life we want: simple, quiet, with room to breathe, work, walk, and eat steamed tofu on a balcony by the sea.
