I've spent most of my adult life chasing interesting drinks.

This sounds sophisticated until you realise it has led me into underground wine cities in Moldova, Soviet bars in Transnistria and countless conversations that began with somebody saying, "You really should try the local alcohol." Historically, this phrase has a success rate that ranges from excellent to mildly alarming.

China felt like the logical next step.

It's a country of astonishing scale, ancient traditions and enough regional food cultures to keep a traveller occupied for several lifetimes. Somewhere within all that, I assumed, there had to be interesting booze. What I didn't anticipate was how quickly the search for local drinks would become a search for local food, local customs and several dishes that appeared determined to challenge my understanding of reality.

As it turns out, China is very good at surprising people.

Particularly if they're carrying a wine tasting notebook.

The Beer Was The Gateway Drug

Like many visitors, I arrived expecting to encounter endless cups of tea.

That certainly happened.

What I didn't expect was how popular beer would be. China has one of the largest beer markets on the planet and local lagers appear almost everywhere. Whether I was sitting in a busy city restaurant or a small local eatery, beer was rarely far away.

The first few beers were exactly what you'd want after a long day of exploring. Cold, refreshing and remarkably easy to drink. They paired beautifully with local food and quickly became part of the daily routine.

Then somebody introduced me to baijiu.

This was the moment my trip took a sharp turn.

Baijiu is China's famous grain spirit and one of the most widely consumed alcoholic drinks in the world. Despite this, many Western travellers have never heard of it. Imagine a drink capable of inspiring equal parts fascination, respect and confusion.

Now imagine somebody handing you a second glass.

Baijiu Is Not Here To Make Friends

The first time I tasted baijiu, I assumed I'd misunderstood it.

The second time, I realised baijiu had understood me perfectly.

There are countless styles and regional variations, many of them highly regarded and deeply woven into Chinese culture. Locals drink it during celebrations, meals and social gatherings. Refusing a toast can feel a little like declining participation in the event itself.

As somebody who enjoys discovering local drinking traditions, I embraced the experience.

Possibly too enthusiastically.

The thing about baijiu is that it doesn't taste like anything most Western drinkers expect. Wine, beer and whisky all offer familiar reference points. Baijiu often seems determined to avoid them entirely. Every sip feels like meeting a drink that evolved on a completely different continent with no interest in international standards.

Which, to be fair, it did.

Then The Food Started Getting Interesting

One of the joys of travelling in China is that every region seems to have its own culinary identity.

The downside is that every region seems to have its own culinary identity.

A meal that feels perfectly familiar in one city may become considerably more adventurous a few hundred miles later. Menus transformed from recognisable dishes to exciting mysteries with remarkable speed. I reached a point where ordering food felt less like dining and more like participating in a cultural treasure hunt.

Some discoveries were spectacular.

Hand-pulled noodles, dumplings and regional specialities became highlights of the trip. Other dishes arrived at the table looking as though they had skipped several stages of explanation.

At that point, curiosity generally defeated caution.

Curiosity usually wins.

The Snake Wine Incident

Every traveller has a moment where they realise they may have slightly underestimated a destination.

Mine involved a bottle containing a snake.

Not a picture of a snake.

An actual snake.

Snake wine is exactly what it sounds like. Traditional spirits are infused with whole snakes and various ingredients depending on the region and local customs. The bottles often look like props from an adventure film rather than something you'd find behind a bar.

Naturally, somebody suggested I try it.

Declining would have felt rude.

The flavour itself wasn't nearly as dramatic as the presentation. In fact, it was surprisingly approachable. The challenge wasn't drinking it. The challenge was maintaining eye contact with the bottle while doing so.

Travel occasionally asks unusual things of us.

Markets, Mystery Meat And Questionable Confidence

One of my favourite travel habits involves visiting local markets.

Markets tell you more about a place than guidebooks ever can. You see what people actually eat, what they buy and how daily life unfolds. China's markets delivered all of this and considerably more.

Some stalls displayed ingredients I'd never seen before.

Others displayed ingredients I'd seen before but never expected to encounter in that quantity. Every corner seemed to contain something fascinating, delicious or mildly bewildering. Often all three.

As the trip progressed, I became increasingly confident about trying unfamiliar food.

This confidence was not always justified.

Why Food And Booze Tell The Best Stories

The older I get, the more convinced I become that food and drink are the fastest routes into a culture.

Monuments are wonderful.

Museums are fascinating.

But sitting around a table with local people while sharing food and drink teaches you things no information board ever could. You discover traditions, customs and stories that don't appear in travel brochures. You learn what people celebrate, how they gather and what matters to them.

China excelled at this.

Many of my strongest memories aren't linked to famous landmarks. They're linked to restaurants, bars, market stalls and conversations over drinks.

Those moments felt real.

That's what good travel is supposed to feel like.

This Is Why I Love Unusual Destinations

Trips like China remind me why I've always been drawn to destinations slightly beyond the obvious tourist trail.

Most travellers can tell you about Paris.

Fewer can explain what happened after a Chinese local handed them a mysterious spirit and encouraged them to trust the process.

The best travel experiences often begin with curiosity. That's certainly been true throughout my time exploring places like Moldova, Georgia and Transnistria. Guests on our tours often arrive expecting wine and leave talking about grandmothers, Soviet monuments or underground wine cities.

The wine gets their attention.

The stories steal the show.

China worked in exactly the same way.

The Great Equaliser: Shared Tables

One thing that struck me repeatedly throughout the trip was how much hospitality transcends language.

My Mandarin vocabulary remained embarrassingly limited throughout the journey. Yet somehow meals still became conversations, drinks still became celebrations and strangers still became temporary friends.

Food has a remarkable ability to bridge gaps.

Alcohol occasionally assists.

Whether I was sharing beer, baijiu or something far harder to identify, the underlying experience remained surprisingly familiar. People everywhere enjoy gathering together, eating well and enjoying good company.

The details change.

Human nature doesn't.

So, Was The Booze Worth It?

Absolutely.

Not because every drink was extraordinary.

Some were excellent. Some were confusing. One or two felt like they should probably come with a user manual. Yet every single one taught me something about the place where I was drinking it.

The same was true of the food.

I can't honestly claim I loved every dish I tried. That would be dishonest. What I can say is that every unusual meal, every strange spirit and every unexpected encounter made the trip more memorable.

The truth is that I went to China looking for booze.

I found culture, hospitality, fascinating food and enough stories to fill several notebooks.

The booze simply provided a very entertaining route through all of it.

And in my experience, those are usually the best journeys.