China, once hidden, wrapped in legends, distant from the rest of the world, is now becoming a portal to the near future. City by city, with new apps, drones, high speed trains, everything becomes a reality that keeps teaching me how to behave in a world that feels twenty years ahead of mine.
But I admit, at the very start of this journey, I had a mild panic attack. I felt as if this were my first trip ever. I, who had walked the streets of so many different cities, who thought I understood how the world works, suddenly became a beginner. Everything that used to be enough for me, my credit card, my passport, and the world seemingly at my fingertips, meant nothing here.
Completely new rules apply here. I had to install Chinese apps and learn how to function in a digital ecosystem entirely different from anything I had known before. The panic was brief. Soon I realized everything worked flawlessly, and I even began to doubt my own instinct to search for flaws in every new system I encounter.
Guangzhou: History, Futurism, and My Digital Chaos
Guangzhou, or Canton, a city that fueled trade for centuries and was the starting point of the original Silk Road, showed me that futurism and history can live side by side. Walking its streets, I saw ultra modern skyscrapers, ancient temples, zen parks, local markets, and I smelled tropical fruit, exotic food, and the humidity that wraps around the city.
First impression: everything is unbelievably clean, from public restrooms on every corner to well maintained parks, and shopping malls combine local and global brands. But the food is a challenge. The flavors are completely different from what I knew from Chinese restaurants in Europe. Western restaurants and brands exist as a safety net when you have no idea what to eat, but to be fair, the real adventure lies in the unknown.
I kept trying to find mistakes. Where is the chaos, the mess, the part where something does not work? But as the day passed, I realized almost everything was perfect. People were calm, transportation precise, technology seamless, and the city breathed in its own rhythm.
Should something not go wrong? A train delay, an app crash, a plan falling apart? Nothing happened. As I moved from futuristic viewpoints to medieval temples, I could not help but laugh. Everyone here seems so content that it feels unreal. Foreigners are rare, and people look at me as if Marco Polo himself has arrived, not for silk this time, but perhaps in search of the newest drone or some mysterious app I still have not decoded.
High Speed Trains and the Silence of the Future
After a few days in Guangzhou, its busy streets swirling with scents, lights, and noise, I boarded a bullet train to Shenzhen. As the train slowly left the station, my heartbeat synced with the rhythm of the city behind me, but soon I entered an entirely different world.
The train flew at over 350 km per hour, yet inside everything was perfectly still. The landscape rushed by like a fast forwarded film, rivers, bridges, towns, industrial zones, but inside this technological marvel, nothing moved, not even by a millimeter. Not the water bottle on my table, not a magazine, not the footsteps of passengers.
Then I realized something that seems obvious here in China. Precision and technological perfection are not tourist tricks, not spectacles for people from abroad. This is their everyday life. People here live in a world where efficiency is the norm, where trains arrive to the second, and where silence, even when in motion, is part of the travel ritual.
Watching the world outside change shape through the window, I understood that high speed trains are not just transportation. They are a metaphor for a future that has already arrived. A future where precision, silence, and order are not luxuries but a way of life.
As we sped toward Shenzhen, I felt as if I were traveling not only across kilometers but through time, into a future that arrived sooner than I expected.
The City Tier System: The Rhythm of the Young and the Old
China has a system that defines the rhythm of life. Cities are divided into tiers. First tier cities like Guangzhou and Shenzhen are the strongest economically, the most developed, and the most sought after. Young people from all over the country come here seeking opportunities, jobs, careers. Older people are almost nonexistent. The pace is too fast, the energy too intense.
Second, third, and fourth tier cities are slower, with a stable population of older residents. Guilin, a third tier city, is a perfect example. Elderly people exercise, sing karaoke in the streets, socialize, and live at their own pace. The infrastructure is excellent. Even here you can find high speed trains and electric cars.
The system is very clear. The young flock to first tier cities, the elderly enjoy the stability of lower tier cities, and everything works in perfect harmony. Again I wondered who organizes all this harmony. Is this real, or have I wandered into a simulation?
Shenzhen: The Energy of Youth and Technology
Shenzhen is a futuristic city that grew from a fishing village into a metropolis of nearly 30 million people. Glass and steel skyscrapers, bridges that bend in elegant arcs, drones patrolling the sky, everything feels like a laboratory of the future.
Streets are filled with electric cars and scooters, with minimal noise and no exhaust fumes. Apps for everything, food, transport, parking, ordering anything imaginable. Here, youth sets the pace. Older people are practically nonexistent.
Shenzhen is China’s Silicon Valley, home to the largest number of start ups and the newest digital solutions. Robots live in harmony with humans, or perhaps the other way around. But what even short term visitors immediately notice is the city’s architectural design. Built mostly in the last twenty five to thirty years, architects had the freedom to create a fascinating concept. From the central square to the most beautiful viewpoint in a hilltop park, there is a ceremonial passage street with a monumental gate shaped like a stylized medieval Chinese helmet with flags on both sides.
Guilin: Nature, a Slower Rhythm, and the Harmony of the Elderly
Guilin is the complete opposite of Shenzhen. A third tier city with a slower rhythm, where elderly people practice tai chi and sing in parks. Hills, rivers, lakes, pyramid shaped formations, nature and the city live in symbiosis.
Temples and zen parks radiate peace and harmony, but the infrastructure still works flawlessly. A high speed train connects the city to the coast in only two hours, and the pace of life is calm and pleasant. Guilin shows that China can balance the energy of megacities with the tranquility of smaller towns.
Hong Kong: Global, Yet Different
For decades, Hong Kong has balanced between global and local, historical and modern. It resembles London or New York, but everything is intertwined with mainland China. Transport works impeccably, malls are luxurious, and dense skyscrapers create an intense urban landscape.
The rhythm of life is closer to Europe than the ultra modern pulse of Guangzhou or Shenzhen, but technology still sets the tempo. Mobile payments, digital systems, and precision everywhere. Here, futurism blends into a familiar world, and the contrast with mainland China is fascinating. You need a passport to enter. China and Hong Kong are, as Chinese people say, one country and two systems. Even the currencies differ. China uses the yuan, while Hong Kong has the Hong Kong dollar.
A Problem, Almost
After new cities, temples, and digital solutions, it was time to travel from inland Guilin back to Guangzhou, two hours and 650 kilometers, by high speed train, and catch my flight. A problem arose, and for the first time on this trip, I saw worried faces around me.
After entering the station, at a check in area resembling an airport where luggage must be scanned, several police officers approached me and explained in poor English that I could not board the train, at least not with the drone they noticed on the scanner. All my previous excitement about the people, cities, and all of China vanished instantly. Why would I not be allowed to board with a drone when I had already been on multiple trains, metros, and every scan until now was fine?
The officers searched for someone who could speak English to explain the issue, but I was already disappointed, imagining the negative title of my article about China. I was saying goodbye to my drone when a Chinese woman fluent in English approached me. The officers explained the situation to her. Guangzhou was hosting a major sporting event that day, the Chinese National Games, and all stations and police units were instructed not to allow drones into the city to avoid interference with the broadcast.
Instant relief. It was not about the drone. Everything was fine. It was just bad timing. The police kindly suggested that I change my ticket and travel to the nearby city of Foshan, then continue from there to the airport. They all gathered around me, changed my ticket, helped me board the correct train, and even sent one officer to accompany me to ensure I got off at Foshan and made my connection safely.
Perfection Is an Illusion, but the Future Is Everywhere
After searching for flaws and possible criticism, I realized something. Nothing is perfect. People make mistakes, technology occasionally fails, food is not always what you expect, but the world here moves in a rhythm that is fascinating.
The future comes for everyone, whether you are a drone enthusiast in Shenzhen or a calm retiree in Guilin enjoying karaoke on the street. But one thing is certain. The world would be a better place if we focused on building trade routes, traveling more, learning about different cultures, understanding each other, even if through translation apps, and not grabbing each other by the throat the moment our battery runs out.
In this part of China, perfection is an illusion, but rhythm, discipline, calm, and technology show that the future is coming, and it waits for no one.
