Opening a Ten-Year Travel Diary: Do You See Me in the Passage of Time?

Ten years ago, I was in my early twenties, carrying an old camera and clutching a hand-drawn map, bold enough to jump on a train to a strange city all by myself. Back then, there were no smartphone navigation apps, no travel guides on social media, and I didn't even know where I'd end up sleeping that night. But deep down, I had a quiet certainty: as long as I stepped out the door, something would find me.

The other day, while sorting through old photos, I came across a yellowed travel notebook. Tucked inside were train tickets from a decade ago, entrance stubs, and even a dried cherry blossom petal. In that moment, I realized: my travel story had quietly been writing itself for ten whole years.

From 2011 to 2021, from a naive college student to an adult who knows herself a little better, I want to share these ten years of travel diaries with you. This isn't a guidebook. It's the story of how a girl grew up, one journey at a time.

Why Did I Feel the Need to Write This Down?

Honestly, this idea had been circling in my head for a long time. There was a blank document sitting in my drafts folder, titled "My Ten-Year Travel Story." Every time I opened it, I didn't know where to begin.

Not because there were no stories—but because there were too many. Over the decade, I haven't been to that many places. Compared to globetrotting travel influencers, my list looks almost modest. But every single trip carries a unique imprint of my life.

Travel is a strange and wonderful thing. It doesn't directly change your life, but it quietly shifts the way you see the world. Ten years ago, I photographed landscapes—lugging my camera around, shooting anything that caught my eye like a street photographer, completely free and without rules. Ten years later, I want to step into the scenery, to become part of the frame. My photos now have more of "me" in them.

These changes aren't just about how I document my travels. They're the growth rings of a person's inner world.

So I decided to stop hesitating. If you've got your snacks and drinks ready, let's flip open this ten-year travel diary together.

Stop One: The Tenderness of Jiangnan, Where My Journey Began

Hangzhou: A Leaning Tree That Planted a Seed

Hangzhou is the place I've visited the most times, and it's not even close.

The first time I went, I was still in elementary school. My dad had worked in Hangzhou when he was young and had a deep affection for the city. He took me to see West Lake. To be honest, a child's memory isn't very reliable. Out of all the scenic spots, I only remembered one thing: a tree in Quyuan Fenghe (Breeze-ruffled Lotus at the Crooked Courtyard) that leaned all the way into the lake.

Why did I remember it? Because I wrote a composition about that tree, and my teacher gave me full marks. From then on, in my mind, Hangzhou became forever tied to that tree and the summer lotus flowers covering the lake.

Later, when I filled out my college entrance exam preferences, I chose every school in Zhejiang Province. I ended up being admitted to a university in Ningbo, just a short train ride away from Hangzhou. Even better, my closest roommate was from Hangzhou. So the city became my most frequent destination during college.

In the spring of 2011, my classmate Mengyun and I did something that still feels pretty cool today: in an era before smartphones were everywhere, we saw a single photo of tulips at Taiziwan Park online and decided on a whim to go. No guide, no navigation. We bought train tickets from Ningbo to Hangzhou for the next day, with only one destination in mind—Taiziwan Park.

That was the first time in my life I had seen so many tulips. It was also the first time I truly looked at cherry blossoms. The snow-white spring petals along West Lake's shores settled into my dreams.

Looking back now, I find it almost unbelievable. Without map navigation, relying only on a hand-written route and asking strangers for directions, we somehow completed that trip. If it were today, I probably wouldn't even dare to leave the house.

In the summer of 2011, I chose to stay in Hangzhou alone for an internship, living near Zhejiang University's Zijingang Campus. Every day off became my "little adventure"—no clear destination, just wandering wherever my feet took me, hopping on a bus home when I got tired.

I loved that way of traveling. No calculating gains or losses, no planning routes. Every small discovery felt like an unexpected gift. Hangzhou's summer isn't always blue skies and white clouds, but West Lake in the rain has a unique gentleness and tranquility.

I think I'll always remember that tenderness of Jiangnan.

Hangzhou Travel Tips: - Recommended spots: West Lake (Quyuan Fenghe, Guozhuang Garden, Taiziwan Park, Maojiabu), China National Tea Museum, Hangzhou Botanical Garden, Nine Creeks in Misty Forest, Hupao Spring, Gongchen Bridge - Suggested duration: 2-5 days - Transportation: Bus, metro, taxi, or self-driving—all convenient - Cost: Not too high; plenty of affordable dining options

Shaoxing: A Ten-Yuan Train Ticket Took Me to Lu Xun's Hometown

The reason I went to Shaoxing is almost laughably simple—the train ticket cost only ten yuan (about $1.50).

Every time I took the train from home to Ningbo for school, I passed through Shaoxing. It sits right between Ningbo and Hangzhou, not far from either. So during my summer internship in Hangzhou, I bought a ten-yuan hard-seat ticket and just went.

For a broke student, cheap tickets were the biggest motivation. We had no money, but we had endless energy and time. Sitting a little longer was fine. Spend less, and you could go to more places.

Back then, Shaoxing hadn't become an internet-famous spot because of some celebrity endorsement. It was quiet, peaceful, looking exactly like the Jiangnan water town of my dreams—small bridges over flowing streams, green ponds and courtyards, a gentle warmth hidden in the slow passage of time.

The Sanwei Bookshop (Three Flavours Study) from Lu Xun's writings is a must-see for every visitor. But after going there, I realized Shaoxing's charm goes far beyond that. I loved the nameless alleyways even more, the mottled old walls, the elderly people sitting by the river soaking up the sun.

Looking at photos from that time, I couldn't help but laugh. In the pictures, I had no idea how to dress—shirt and shorts, a bare face, taking selfies wherever I could prop up my camera. Not pretty at all, but that youthful awkwardness? That's precious youth.

I'd always wondered how I managed to travel alone in the days before smartphones. Then I found an old photo that explained everything: I had looked up routes and destinations in advance, written them down on a piece of paper, and set off the next day with that hand-drawn "guide" and a map.

That focused way of traveling—doing one thing without being interrupted by a phone—has faded from my life. But it will live forever in that era.

Shaoxing Travel Tips: - Recommended spots: Cangqiao Straight Street, Shen Garden, Lu Xun's Hometown, Keyan Scenic Area - Suggested duration: 1-2 days - Transportation: Bus, metro, taxi, or self-driving—all convenient - Cost: Low

Stop Two: The Girl Chasing Light, Who Found Another World in Britain

2011: The First Time I Chased the Northern Lights, the First Time I Saw a Fairy Tale

From late 2011 to early 2012, I had the opportunity to study abroad at a British university as an exchange student. Half a year—not too long, not too short—but it became the most important chapter in my ten-year travel story.

It was my first time flying internationally on a long-haul flight. The plane kept heading west, chasing the sun, as if trying to outrun the sunset. I called this journey "the road of chasing light," and I was the girl who never stopped chasing it.

During my time in Britain, whenever I had free time, I went out exploring. Everything was so new to me—the colorful streets, the clouds in all kinds of shapes, scenes that looked like they had stepped straight out of a comic book.

The Scottish Lake District was the first stop on a short trip with my classmates. Its beauty made me feel like I had to go back at least once in my life. Unfortunately, I was so clueless back then. When my classmates said "let's go," I just followed. I didn't make plans, didn't even know where I was half the time. I regret it now, but at least the beauty was captured in my camera.

On my trip to Edinburgh, I even missed an important place—The Elephant House café. I glanced at it, thought it looked "unremarkable," and walked away. Later, I found out that was where J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter.

Another time, I joined my school's hiking club on a trip to Snowdonia National Park. The British countryside has a beauty that cities can never replace. The young British guy leading the hike said that if we climbed to the top of the mountain, we could see the sea in the distance. For a girl who grew up inland and rarely saw the ocean, that was such a wonderful dream to chase.

Bath is a city romantic to its core. Windsor feels like a castle straight out of a fairy tale. London in autumn carries a mix of historical weight and new hope. York was shrouded in thick fog, showing me a different kind of desolate beauty.

The most unforgettable trip was to Manchester. It happened by accident—I wanted to buy an iPhone 4s, couldn't find one in nearby cities, and only managed to snag one at a store in Manchester. My friend Lele didn't hesitate for a second. She took the bus with me for hours just to pick up the phone. To save money, we survived on crackers every day and walked over ten kilometers. She barely complained, just wore that determined, beautiful smile.

Lele was a very important friend from my college days. Although our life paths diverged too much after graduation and we gradually lost touch, I'll always remember the roads she walked with me.

Another time, because a friend said "Southampton has beautiful sea views, and it's where the Titanic set sail," I dragged Lele onto an 8-hour overnight bus to go there. The trip didn't go smoothly—bad weather, and we didn't see the beautiful scenery we had imagined. But on that little island, I saw local houses decorated with seashells. It had the warm, lovely feel of the ocean.

In the winter of 2011, as thesis season and exams approached, my outings became fewer. During Christmas break, I went to London one more time with a friend. And then, that road of chasing light came to an end.

2012: A Final Farewell to the Self I Can Never Get Back

In early 2012, with only a month left of my study abroad life, my coursework was heavy. I barely went out. After exams, Qiqi and I took a trip to Conwy and Llandudno.

The reason I chose Llandudno was simple: I read online that it was one of the cities with the highest happiness index in the UK. And it was a coastal city—my absolute favorite kind.

It was a magical trip. On the train, we saw the coastal railway and offshore wind turbines, the deep blue sea stretching out beautifully. When we got off, we were greeted by biting wind and hail. But after the hail passed, the sky turned into perfect blue with white clouds, and the world burst into color.

That afternoon, I dragged Qiqi along the coastal road from Conwy Castle all the way to the youth hostel in Llandudno. The hostel owner welcomed us with warmth and kindness. The next morning, we got up early to watch the sunrise by the sea. Even though it was freezing cold on the hilltop overlooking the ocean, I still thought this seaside town was enchanting and beautiful.

If I ever have the chance to go back to the UK, I will definitely visit Llandudno again.

I guess I'm just someone who loves nostalgia. But it's not just the British scenery I miss—it's the self I can never get back. That girl who chased the light, who had endless courage and drive.

UK Travel Tips: - Recommended spots: Edinburgh, Scottish Lake District, York, Bath, Llandudno, Snowdonia National Park - Suggested duration: Flexible based on personal schedule - Transportation: Bus or metro in larger cities; self-driving more convenient in rural areas - Cost: Higher than China; cooking your own meals can save a lot

Stop Three: In the Misty Rain of Xitang, I Met My Best Friend

Xitang was the first place I traveled to with Liyan, who later became my long-time travel companion.

We actually met during our freshman year of college, but we never really clicked. Life is strange like that—some people could become great friends, but without the right moment, you might miss each other entirely. Thankfully, we didn't miss our chance.

That trip was Liyan's idea. Back then, Xitang was what we called our school's "backyard." Everyone went there whenever they had a free weekend. Liyan knew I had never been, and even though she had already been there, she offered to take me.

Xitang was very quiet at that time, with few tourists. It was just a small water town. Not like now, when it has become the top choice for Hanfu (traditional Chinese clothing) events. Back then, very few people wore Hanfu. There was a girl in my major who wore it to class every day, and people laughed at her. Looking back, she was just brave enough to be ahead of her time.

Liyan is really good at taking photos. She took many pictures of me, and I took many of her. We weren't just "tools" helping each other get the shot—we were friends. And that's what friends do: play together, and record memories together.

I feel lucky to have a friend like her, someone who lets me see what I looked like years ago. Back then, Liyan was a nonconformist. She only did what she liked, only stayed friendly with people she approved of. Many people misunderstood her, thought she was difficult. But I knew she had an incredibly gentle heart—she just appeared tough and strong on the outside.

Looking back, isn't our nostalgia for a trip really just nostalgia for the people we traveled with? What we miss isn't just the scenery, but an experience, a feeling, a person who walked the road beside us.

Final Words: The Travel Diary Ends, But the Story Continues

Flipping through ten years of travel diaries, we've reached the end.

From Hangzhou to Shaoxing, from the UK to Xitang, from a girl carrying a camera and shooting the streets alone to someone who learned to step into the scenery and make peace with herself—these ten years weren't just about covering geographical distance. They were a journey of inner growth.

Someone once asked me, "Why do you love traveling so much? Is it vanity? Are you trying to show off?"

No. It's simpler than that. I just want to see more of the world, to have more life experiences. At different stages, I choose travel styles that fit my budget and arrange routes that suit me. Travel is about being true to yourself. That's the only reason I've kept it up for ten years.

Over this decade, I've met many people and said goodbye to many. Some became very important friends in my life. Others gradually drifted away. But no matter what, they all left their marks in my travel diary.

If you ask me what the biggest gain of these ten years is, I'd say it's not the number of places I've been or the photos I've taken. It's learning how to be with myself, and how to be with the world. Travel has taught me that life itself is a journey. What matters isn't the destination, but the scenery along the way—and the people who stop to look at it with you.

So if you have a travel diary of your own, why not open it? In those yellowed photos and blurry memories, you might find the version of yourself and the people who shaped you, hidden in the folds of time.

The story isn't over. See you on the road in the next ten years.