There’s something about the idea of exploring new places that excites the mind and soul. When I think about countries I want to visit, two very different destinations come to mind: Iceland and China. At first glance, they may seem like complete opposites—one small, cold, and mostly quiet; the other large, busy, and full of energy. But they both speak to me in ways that make me want to pack a bag and go.
Iceland draws me in with its raw, untouched beauty. The landscapes there look like something out of a dream—huge waterfalls crashing down black cliffs, wide stretches of green moss-covered lava fields, glaciers that look like frozen rivers, and geysers that shoot steaming water into the air. It feels like the kind of place where nature is still in charge, where you can walk for miles and feel like you’re the only person on Earth. I imagine standing near a waterfall, the mist on my face, or soaking in a hot spring while snow falls softly around me. The silence in Iceland seems deep, peaceful, and powerful.
What really fascinates me about Iceland is how natural everything feels. People talk about the Northern Lights like they’re magic, and I believe them. The thought of watching green and purple lights dance across the sky on a freezing night fills me with a kind of joy I can’t quite describe. Even the roads there are different—no huge highways, just long stretches of winding roads through stunning scenery. Driving around the country, stopping wherever the view demands it, feels like the best kind of freedom.
China, on the other hand, attracts me for very different reasons. It’s a country that feels modern and alive in a unique way. While many people think of ancient temples and long histories when they think of China—and that is certainly part of the charm—I’m most curious about the way the country is moving forward. The government has taken bold steps in creating a future that is fast-paced and technology-driven. I find that fascinating. There’s a sense that the country is constantly building, growing, pushing ahead. That kind of progress inspires me.
One thing I find really interesting about China is how cashless their society has become. People pay for everything using apps on their phones—from food at street stalls to clothes in huge malls. It seems like they skipped over the part where people rely on credit cards and went straight to mobile payments. That level of tech adoption makes daily life feel smooth and efficient. I imagine walking into a store, scanning a QR code, and walking out with a new jacket in minutes. It’s not just cool—it’s practical.
And speaking of shopping, China is like a paradise for anyone who loves it. The shopping malls are enormous, bright, and filled with every kind of store you can imagine. I’ve seen pictures of malls with entire streets recreated inside them—complete with fountains, indoor gardens, and artificial skies. It’s not just about buying things; it’s about the experience. There’s a kind of creative energy in how these spaces are designed, and I’d love to see that up close.
What makes all of this even more interesting is how many of the things we use every day in Europe—and in many other parts of the world—are made in China. From electronics to clothing, from furniture to tiny kitchen tools, Chinese products are everywhere. Visiting the place where so many of these items come from would give me a new kind of appreciation for how deeply connected our world is. I think it would be amazing to walk through a factory or a market and understand the story behind the things I take for granted at home.
At the same time, I know that China has its natural wonders too. It’s a country of contrast—modern cities with glowing skyscrapers and fast trains, but also mountains, rivers, and remote villages that still follow traditional ways of life. I’d love to see the rice terraces in the countryside, the misty peaks of Zhangjiajie that inspired scenes in the movie Avatar, and the Great Wall stretching out like a stone ribbon across the hills. The idea of seeing such a wide range of landscapes in one country is really appealing.
Both countries offer something I deeply crave—perspective. Iceland gives me a sense of smallness in the face of nature. It reminds me that the world doesn’t need to be noisy or crowded to be powerful. China, on the other hand, shows me what’s possible when people focus on building something big, fast, and smart. It tells a different story, one of progress and ambition. Together, they balance each other out: one is quiet and wild, the other loud and organized.
Even though they are so different, Iceland and China are both places where I feel I could learn something important. Iceland would teach me how to slow down, breathe, and just be present with the world around me. China would show me how people can work together to build something massive, how modern life can be efficient and full of energy, and how history and the future can live side by side.
There’s also something thrilling about the idea of stepping into a place where you don’t speak the language or know the customs. Travel isn’t just about taking pretty pictures or ticking boxes on a list—it’s about being uncomfortable, challenged, and changed. I think both Iceland and China would do that in different ways. Iceland would stretch my sense of time and space. China would stretch my ideas about society and innovation.
Of course, traveling isn’t just about seeing things—it’s about feeling them. I want to feel the cold Icelandic wind on my cheeks, the warmth of a natural hot spring, and the hush of snow falling in a quiet village. I want to feel the energy of a crowded Chinese metro station, the rhythm of a busy street, the buzz of neon lights, and the heat of street food being cooked right in front of me. I want my senses to wake up in ways they never do at home.
And when I come back from these places, I know I’ll be carrying pieces of them with me. Not just souvenirs or photos, but memories and lessons. I’ll remember what the sky looks like when it’s full of stars and northern lights. I’ll remember how it feels to buy something with a phone scan instead of cash. I’ll remember the sound of waterfalls and the sounds of high-speed trains. These moments, small and large, will stay with me forever.
In the end, Iceland and China may be on opposite ends of the spectrum, but they both call to the traveler in me. One calls with quiet and wonder; the other with speed and innovation. And honestly, I can’t wait to answer both.
