Travels without internet
Leaving his smartphone and computer at home, doctoral student rediscovers the pleasures and pitfalls of navigating life offline, report Wang Qian and Zhu Xingxin in Taiyuan.
Bumps in the road
Pursuing a doctorate in contemporary arts at Lancaster University at the time, Yang put his academic work on hold, made preparations, and persuaded his parents that he wasn't placing himself in any danger.
Last Nov 27, he set off from Taiyuan with a 40-liter backpack, which contained clothing, two cameras, maps, his identification card, bank cards, cash, two writing brushes, a bottle of calligraphy ink, a pen, a notebook, and three books.
Standing at the Taiyuan Railway Station as his parents saw him off, he randomly chose to board a train to Linfen in Shanxi, paying for the ticket with cash.
"It was the first time in my life that both my parents saw me off together. They felt more distant from me without the internet," Yang says, adding that his parents were likely to worry more about him as they couldn't contact him by phone.
Arriving at Linfen that night, he encountered the first challenge, as without a phone, he couldn't book a hotel online. Although he showed his ID card and offered to pay cash at the hotel reception, it seemed that without a phone, he could not reserve a room. One of the receptionists recommended another hotel, and as Yang didn't have a navigation app, he drew a map for him in his notebook.
During the trip, Yang experienced lots of situations like this. At the entrance to the Hubei Provincial Museum in Wuhan, he wasn't allowed in because the museum required reservation in advance and he couldn't reserve a ticket online. He was finally able to get in with the help of an elderly man who had a fast pass for seniors, and was able to take a person in as a guest.
Writing letters was his only way of keeping in touch with family and friends. However, sending them posed difficulties. At a post office in Wuhan, Yang discovered they only sold commemorative stamp sets, while in other places, they didn't sell envelopes. At a post office in Hotan in the Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region, Yang was the first person to send a registered letter, and the staff members were not certain how it was done.
Along the way, people wondered why he didn't want to use a phone. Some thought he wanted to escape a bad relationship, some took him for a sociologist or a reporter observing life, while some speculated that the trip was just a gimmick to attract attention.
