Hello! My name is Ryan Summers. I’m from San Diego, California, and for the past three years, I’ve been working as a university English teacher here in Xiamen, China. When I first accepted the offer to teach in this coastal city, I thought it would be a short adventure—maybe a year, two at most. But something about Xiamen got under my skin in the best possible way, and now it’s hard to imagine living anywhere else.
Xiamen is one of those rare places where life feels perfectly balanced. There’s the sea breeze in the morning, palm-lined streets, and the sound of waves crashing just a short walk from campus. The city’s pace is slower than most big cities in China, but it’s never boring. As a teacher, my weekdays are filled with lectures, student presentations, and lively debates in class. But the moment the weekend arrives, I’m in “explorer mode.”
What I love most about Xiamen is how every outing feels like a mini-vacation. I can hop on a ferry to Gulangyu Island and spend the day wandering narrow alleys filled with colonial-era architecture, listening to street musicians, and sampling local snacks like peanut soup or oyster omelets. Other weekends, I’ll head to Zengcuoan, a vibrant artsy neighborhood where the cafés are as creative as the murals on the walls.
My travel philosophy is shaped by this city: I believe in “close-range adventures.” You don’t need to cross oceans to feel the thrill of discovery—sometimes the magic is right next door. Xiamen makes that easy. One week I might be hiking up Wulao Peak to watch the city wake up under a golden sunrise, and the next I’m on a bus to Nanjing County to explore the famous tulou—centuries-old circular earthen houses tucked into the hills, built by the Hakka people.
Living here has also deepened my appreciation for coastal landscapes. I’ve started documenting my travels through photography, focusing on the way light changes over the ocean and how daily life adapts to the sea’s rhythm. Whether it’s fishermen casting nets at dawn or students studying on the beach, there’s a certain poetry to it.
As a foreign teacher, I also get to share my travel experiences with my students, encouraging them to see the value in exploring their own surroundings. Many of them have never visited places just an hour away from their homes. I tell them that travel doesn’t always require a passport—just curiosity and a willingness to step outside the usual routine.
One of my favorite weekend escapes is to take a slow train into Fujian’s mountains. There’s something magical about leaving the coastline behind and winding through valleys where tea plantations stretch as far as the eye can see. I often return with bags of Tieguanyin tea, sharing it with colleagues over long conversations about culture, language, and life.
Xiamen has also been a perfect base for slightly longer trips. I’ve taken overnight trains to Shenzhen, spent golden autumn days in Wuyishan hiking among rock formations, and even done a week-long road trip through Zhejiang’s coastal fishing towns. Every journey feels connected back to Xiamen—it’s my anchor, my home port.
The seasons here bring subtle changes that influence my travel style. Spring is perfect for cycling around the island loop road with bougainvillea blooming everywhere. Summer is all about night markets and cooling off by the beach. Autumn, with its clear skies, is my favorite season for photography, especially on Gulangyu. Winter is mild, but it’s when I most enjoy heading inland for hot springs in Yongding or hiking trails where the air feels crisp and clean.
Looking ahead, I plan to keep using Xiamen as my base for exploring more of Southeast Asia, given its great flight connections. But no matter where I go, I know I’ll always come back here. There’s a sense of belonging that’s hard to define but easy to feel—the warmth of the community, the artistic energy of the streets, and the calm of the sea.
If you ever come to Xiamen, look me up. I’ll take you to my favorite rooftop café overlooking the harbor, and we’ll plan a day trip that’s part city walk, part hidden beach, and part unexpected adventure. Because that’s what living here has taught me: the best journeys are the ones that blur the line between travel and daily life.
— Ryan Summers