Sanya

Tianya Haijiao, famously dubbed the "End of the Earth," is the kind of place designed explicitly for wistful sighs, trite love proclamations, and of course, overly dramatic Instagram captions. Located in the laid-back coastal enclave of Tianya Town, this romantic landmark has historically drawn poets, lovers, and every hopeless romantic from Tang Dynasty officials banished to the islands (presumably lamenting their exile over coconut wine) to modern selfie pilgrims desperate to dramatize their vacations. To dodge the throngs of matching-shirt couples, arrive early in the morning (trust me, your cynical soul will thank me later) or swing by late afternoon to soak in the sunset without risking permanent damage to your romantic ideals. Plan ahead, preferably at least a day in advance unless you enjoy elbow-to-elbow intimacy with strangers, and expect about 70 RMB ($10 USD), leaving enough cash on hand for cheesy trinkets and seafood snacks that pair suspiciously well with the ocean breeze. Bring sunscreen, water, and a healthy appreciation for kitsch-it's the tropics, after all, and irony often melts in the humidity. Even if you're allergic to romance or find the idea of snapping selfies next to giant boulders inscribed dramatically with "Edge of Heaven" utterly absurd, Tianya Haijiao still promises the priceless currency of an eccentric travel anecdote-the one you'll casually drop at dinner parties, punctuated with just the right blend of amusement and wry disbelief.

Scaling Wuzhishan, otherwise known as Five Finger Mountain, is like facing off against Mother Nature's knuckles themselves-gnarled, lush, and defiantly pointing skyward in the humid heart of Hainan. At roughly 1,867 meters tall, this mountain is Hainan's rough-and-tumble champion, historically revered by indigenous Li tribes who saw it as a sacred protector, and nowadays challenged by hikers armed with smartphones and misplaced bravado. To make the climb manageable (and avoid the punishing midday heat), begin your ascent at the crack of dawn, armed with sunscreen, bug spray, and plenty of water-because dehydration halfway up this lush, primordial trail is a shortcut to existential dread. Budget around 3-5 hours for the round-trip hike, assuming reasonable fitness and a moderate tolerance for sweat. Planning ahead at least a day or two is wise, especially if you'd prefer to avoid sharing the narrow paths with overenthusiastic tour groups determined to Instagram every leaf and rock. But trust me-once you reach the peak, panting and humbled, and gaze across the emerald-green island sprawling into the hazy horizon, you'll agree: Wuzhishan is worth conquering, if only to narrate your triumph later over beers, conveniently exaggerating just how close you came to epic peril atop the formidable fingers of Hainan.

Wuzhizhou Island-one of southern China's maritime playgrounds-is a tantalizing blend of postcard-perfect beaches and blessed underwater chaos, sitting smugly off Haitang Bay as if it invented turquoise water itself. Sure, the diving isn't exactly Jacques Cousteau art house-think more underwater traffic jam of selfie sticks and fluorescent fins-but beneath the thrashing tourists, you'll still spot technicolor coral and marine life flamboyant enough to impress even the most jaded scuba snobs. Come early in the morning, around sunrise, before the hordes arrive armed with inflatable unicorns; book tickets and dive sessions online at least a week ahead, unless your idea of fun includes standing in queues elbow-to-elbow with sunburned influencers. Bring a towel, extra cash (budget at least ¥400-¥600 for ferry tickets, diving sessions, and questionable beachside snacks), and plenty of patience. Sure, it's crowded, commercialization's steadily creeping in, and the soundtrack might feature more K-pop hits than gentle ocean waves, but whether you find Nemo or just a stray flip-flop, this oddball island escapade makes for one hell of a salty tale.