It’s often said that where you “grew up” in China is where your heart is. It for this reason I miss Yantai near Qingdao in the Shandong province. My first stop in China, it was in the “small” seaside tourist city that I got my first whiff of hot, musty Chinese air.

I can remember it like it was yesterday, the feeling of WTF when I noticed the Migs lining the tarmac at Yantai Airport, the warm homely feeling I felt when I realised I had BBC World in my room, the thrill that overcame me when I realised the price of cigarettes and booze or when the first person understood my overly simplistic Chinese. Every meal, I nearly pissed my pants with excitement and called home, the food was fucking excellent. I remember making my first Chinese “friend” and the challenge, frustration, ridiculousness and awesomeness of “cross-language”communication, neither one of us actually able to speak the others language. Most of all I remember the warmth with which the locals (and my students) welcomed me to my new home, their patience in nurturing my Chinese and acceptance into their homes, lives and bars. I also miss the small, “how you say?”… “colourful” expat community.

Yantai attracts a delightful underclass of degenerates and weirdoes, a small concentrated microcosm of what you would find in any city outside of Beijing and Shanghai. Now I mean this in quite possibly the best way possible, myself included. In Yantai I made a huge amount of friends, travelers and Chinese, many of whom I would consider friends for life. It’s amazing what a bonding experience sharing your first Baijiu puke or Sea Cucumber or death defying meal or taxi ride can be. The people I met in Yantai were interesting, open-minded and passionate about China. Teachers and expats a like. A far cry from many I know in the bigger cities, the fact that they chose Yantai speaks volumes to me.

The Korean dimension in Yantai too made it interesting, a veritable cluster-fuck of language, food and culture.

These days nearly 3 years on, I infrequently eat Chinese food unless I cook it myself, and more things piss me off than delight me. China is home and I still have great hopes for her albeit the frustrations. It’s not that China is like a drug for me* and that I’ll always be chasing that amazing first hit, because no matter how habitual things have become, China still delights and surprises me frequently no matter where I live. But I think Yantai, as the place I grew up in China left an indelible impression on me to the extent that I’ll always consider it home..in China anyway.

* Rice Again Public Health Warning: China is a drug and like cigarettes some of us get more deeply addicted than others. China will inevitably cause irreparable damage to your lungs, liver and mental health. (Thank god for those dreaded mandatory health checks)