A Long Walk East: Five Hundred Days on the Road to Shanghai

On a cool Saturday morning on the western edge of Shanghai, two figures walked slowly along the road, their backpacks worn thin from more than a year of use. Traffic whizzed past them, and the city skyline loomed ahead. For Loïc Voisot and Benjamin Humblot, this moment marked the final stretch of a journey that had lasted over 500 days, beginning thousands of kilometers away in the mountains of France.

"It's a bit of a strange feeling," Loïc said the night before. "It feels kind of unreal. We made it so far, and we achieved our goal."

More than 700 years ago, Marco Polo journeyed east along the Silk Road, sharing tales of far-off lands with Europe. In contrast, Loïc opted to walk the same path, not in search of new discoveries, but to gain a deeper understanding of something he barely knew.

As Shanghai drew closer, excitement softened into something quieter. "It's time for us to reflect on who we were when we said, 'Let's try,' and who we are now," Loïc told City News Service.

Loïc, 26, and Ben, 27, grew up in Annecy, a town in the mountainous French Alps. They have been friends since they were both ten years old. As children, they were often outdoors, hiking near home, but never for very long. "Usually either for one or two days, maybe for one week," Loïc said. "But it was never much more than that."

Both worked in Paris with Ben in IT, while Loïc was involved in environmental issues. Their lives were busy, social and stable. "It was office life, living in Paris and having an office job," Loïc recalled. "We liked it. The job was enjoyable and interesting. We had many friends, and we had a lot of fun there."

The idea that ultimately led them to travel across continents did not come with certainty. It came one evening, during conversation, while talking about explorers and big adventures, imagining what might be possible just for fun. China came up because it felt far away, almost abstract. "It looks super far away, the other side of the world," Loïc said. "But it looks doable."

At first, someone else was planning the trip. Then Loïc remembered asking, "Do you think that we can do it ourselves?"

Telling family was harder than imagining the walk. Leaving a stable job for a year-long journey felt risky, even irresponsible. "Usually, they just want you to be safe," Loïc said. But they were not against the idea. "They told us, 'Think well.'"

Loïc's mother, Stéphanie, watched quietly as her son prepared. "I saw that he spent a lot of time preparing for his trip."

Over time, worry gave way to pride. "I'm very proud of him now because he succeeded."

"Everybody asked me if I was worried about that, and I wasn't," she told City News Service after flying into Shanghai to welcome the two at the end of the trip. "We were surprised to be optimistic and feel that this kind of trip, where they go through several countries, is quite safe. They choose the good trip."

His father, Olivier, admits he was unsure at the beginning. "I was not sure about this project," he said. He wondered whether the two young men could really reach China. When they did, doubt turned into something else.

"Today I'm really proud, to be honest," he said. What impressed him most was not only the distance but also the friendship behind the journey. "They stayed together for one year. It's not easy every day."

China was chosen not only because it was far but also because it was unknown to them.

"We've both been very intrigued by China," Loïc said. "It's a very old civilization, and at the same time it's a very modern country."

Before the journey, his understanding was thin. "In France, we don't have much of a clue about what China's culture is like," he said. "So we wanted to go there by ourselves and see it, and most importantly, meet people."

Shanghai became the symbolic end point. "For us, Shanghai reflects China's modernity today," Loïc said. Ben described it more simply. "It's as far as you can go from France by walking east," he said.

Their first days in China were overwhelming. Entering through the Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region from Kazakhstan, the contrast was immediate. "When we arrived, we felt a lot of modernity," Loïc said.

Even the hotel felt unfamiliar. "There was already a robot delivering things to the room." They paused for several days, not because their legs needed rest, but because their minds did. "We were trying to be comfortable with WeChat, with Alipay, with all the apps," Loïc said.

What stayed with them most, however, was not technology. It was people.

In small restaurants, strangers smiled and wanted to talk. Hotel staff were curious and welcoming. Along the road, drivers slowed down and asked if they needed help. "Many people say, 'Are you sure you want to go? It's too cold,'" Loïc said.

Some moments stayed with him deeply. In the Gobi Desert, where villages disappeared and the land stretched empty for days, a petrol station worker kept his workplace open late and offered them a warm place to sleep. "The night outside was too cold," Loïc recalled.

In Gansu Province, kindness took the form of hospitality. A middle-aged man invited them to stay for three days. "Every day he took us to a restaurant for lunch and dinner," Loïc said. "He always told us to eat more, until we couldn't eat anymore."

Some support came from people. A woman who followed their journey online reached out and sent money several times. "We never met her," Loïc said. "She didn't ask for anything."

"Almost every day we meet people," he said. "People smiling at us or wanting to know what we're doing."

As they continued eastward, something unexpected began to happen. Their slow walk and daily recordings were not only showcasing China to the outside world; they were also providing insights for many Chinese viewers who followed their journey. Many Chinese viewers followed their journey as well. They have opened accounts on Instagram (@mode_avion_adventures) and Xiaohongshu (Rednote, ID: 飞行模式冒险), one of China's top social platforms.

Asked why they named the account "Flight Mode Adventure," Loïc explained that the name comes from "airplane mode." "We try not to take the plane," he said, "because it pollutes a lot the planet."

Through two foreign travelers moving on foot, familiar places appeared new again. Villages rarely mentioned in travel guides, long stretches of road, quiet landscapes and ordinary acts of kindness entered people's screens.

In that sense, the journey became a mirror, allowing some Chinese viewers to rediscover the vastness, diversity and warmth of their country through unfamiliar eyes.

The hardest stretch in China was the Gobi Desert between Xinjiang and Gansu. "It's very easy," Loïc said when asked which part was hardest. "It's the Gobi Desert." For days, there were no villages and little water. "We didn't know how we could fix it before," he said. "We just knew we would have to find a solution. Step by step, we find a solution to every problem."

By the time they reached Shanghai, the journey no longer belonged only to them.

Over the weekend of their arrival, several followers joined them for the final 10 kilometers from Changfeng Park to the Bund. Antoine André, a Frenchman who has lived in China for six years, decided to walk with them after hearing about the journey in a French WeChat group. "Walking with them is a good way to welcome them after such a long trip," he said. Afterward, he laughed. "That's very short for them. They spent 500 days walking."

Another follower, Licia Sulas from Italy, found them online during the Spring Festival. "I just think they are very brave," she said. "They just walk for, like, 500 days. I really admire them."

That same weekend, Loïc's parents arrived in Shanghai to meet their son. It was their first time in China. "We are happy to come to Shanghai," his father said. "It's the first time we've come to China." He saw the journey as an opportunity to explore new possibilities. "It's a good opportunity to come to visit your country," he said.

Standing by the Huangpu River, Ben looked out at the skyline many Europeans recognize first. "That's the view that people from France know," he said. Still, the feeling of arrival came slowly. "It's really hard to realize that we are here," he said. "Meeting all those people and reaching the Bund will help us realize that it's the end."

For Loïc, the walk reshaped more than geography. "Before, the image was very simple," he said. "Now we learned a lot about the complexity." It also changed how he understood connection. "When you can connect to people, make jokes with them, and enjoy a nice dinner evening, it means a lot," he said.

As the journey came to a close, one feeling returned again and again. "We are very grateful to everyone who made it possible," Loïc said. "Without all of them, we would not arrive in Shanghai."

They came to Shanghai because it was a point on a map, a symbolic end to a long road. They arrived surrounded by people. Parents who traveled across continents to meet their son were present. Strangers became their companions for a 10-kilometer journey. Viewers walked with them through screens and comments, rediscovering their own country along the way.

In the end, the journey did not conclude with a final step. It concluded with people standing together, sharing the quiet weight of having arrived.