What to Pack for China Trip: The Complete 2026 Guide

The cab driver laughed at me when I asked if I could buy a SIM card at the Beijing airport arrivals hall. “Of course,” he said, through a translator app that kept glitching. “But you need WeChat to pay for it.” I had no WeChat. No VPN. No cash smaller than a 100-yuan note, which is like flashing a $50 bill at a hot dog stand. That first hour in China, standing in the fluorescent glare of Terminal 3 with a dead phone and a growing sense of panic, taught me more about packing than any blog post ever could.

I’ve lived in Beijing for seven years now. I’ve made that mistake at least four different ways—wrong adapter, wrong shoes, wrong assumptions about what “cashless society” actually means. This guide is what I wish someone had handed me before my first trip. It’s not a checklist of everything you might possibly need. It’s the specific things that will save you from the specific headaches I’ve had, plus the things I see first-time tourists scrambling for at hotel front desks and train station convenience stores.

By the end of this, you’ll know exactly what goes in your carry-on, what stays home, and why your favorite hiking boots might be the worst thing you bring.

The Short Version

Pack light. Bring a VPN that’s already installed and tested. Carry a physical credit card even if you never use it at home. Download WeChat and Alipay before you leave—link a card, test a payment. Bring a power bank. Leave the cash-heavy mindset at home. You will not use cash 90% of the time. Bring comfortable walking shoes that you’ve already broken in. Pack for layers, not outfits. And for the love of everything, bring toilet paper and hand sanitizer because public restrooms are a gamble.

How I Picked These

I’m not a gear reviewer. I’m someone who has taken 40+ trips across China—from Urumqi to Shanghai, from the Tibetan Plateau to the rice terraces of Yunnan. I’ve forgotten things, regretted things, and watched other tourists struggle with things. Every item on this list comes from a specific moment: the afternoon I couldn’t get into my hotel because the digital key app wouldn’t load, the night I walked 2 kilometers in dress shoes because I didn’t know the subway closed, the taxi ride where I had to borrow the driver’s phone charger because mine was useless. I also asked five Chinese friends who travel frequently what they’d tell a foreigner. Their answers were more honest than any travel blog.

Comparison Table

Category	Item	Why You Need It	Approx Cost (USD)	Weight/Bulk	Where to Buy
Digital	VPN subscription	Access Google, WhatsApp, Instagram	$30-80/year	Zero	Before you leave
Digital	WeChat/Alipay setup	Pay for everything	Free	Zero	Before you leave
Tech	Power bank (20,000mAh)	Phones die fast	$25-40	Medium	Before you leave
Tech	Universal adapter (Type A+C+I)	Chinese plugs are different	$15-25	Small	Before you leave
Paper	Physical credit card	Backup for digital failures	Free	Zero	Already have one
Health	Imodium + antibiotics	Food can surprise you	$10-20	Tiny	Before you leave
Comfort	Toilet paper + wet wipes	Public restrooms are rough	$3-5	Small	Both
Clothing	Broken-in walking shoes	You’ll walk 15,000+ steps daily	Already owned	Bulky	Wear on the plane
Clothing	Lightweight down jacket	Layers for variable weather	$50-150	Packs small	Before you leave
Document	Printed copies of everything	Phones die, wifi fails	$0	Minimal	Before you leave

1. VPN — The Thing That Makes Everything Work

The first time I tried to check my email at a Beijing Starbucks, I sat there for fifteen minutes watching the loading circle spin. No Gmail. No Google Maps. No WhatsApp. My friend back home thought I’d ghosted her. The barista saw me sweating and just said, “VPN,” like it was obvious.

China blocks Google, Gmail, WhatsApp, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter/X, and most Western news sites. If you need any of these—and you will, for maps alone—you need a VPN installed and tested before you land. Not after. The Chinese app store doesn’t have most VPNs. The Great Firewall doesn’t mess around.

What I use: Astrill or ExpressVPN. Both work reliably in most cities. Test them at home first. Some hotels have their own VPN built into the wifi, but don’t count on it. Download the app, create an account, connect successfully from your home country, then leave it installed. You’ll thank me when you’re trying to find the subway entrance at 11 PM.

One thing to know: VPNs can be flaky in Xinjiang and Tibet. Some work, some don’t. Have a backup plan—download offline maps of those regions before you go.

2. WeChat and Alipay — Your Wallet Is Now a Phone

I watched an American tourist try to pay for a bowl of noodles with a $100 bill. The shop owner just stared at him. Then she pointed at the QR code taped to the counter. He didn’t have WeChat Pay. He walked away hungry.

China runs on QR codes. Street vendors, subway ticket machines, temple donation boxes, even some public toilets—they all expect digital payment. Cash still works, but you’ll get weird looks and sometimes change in coins nobody wants. Set up WeChat Pay and Alipay before you leave. Link a foreign credit card (Visa/Mastercard work now, as of 2024). Test a small payment. It takes 15 minutes and saves you a week of frustration.

The catch: You need a Chinese phone number to fully activate WeChat Pay. You can use a foreign number for Alipay. If you can’t get a Chinese SIM immediately, use Alipay first. Also: bring one physical credit card as a backup. Not every place takes foreign cards, but hotels and big malls do.

3. A Power Bank Big Enough to Matter

I was in Chongqing, using Google Maps to navigate the insane multi-level intersections. My phone died at 4 PM. I had no idea where my hotel was. The street signs were in Chinese characters I couldn’t read. I wandered for an hour before finding a convenience store that sold a cheap power bank that barely worked.

Your phone will die faster in China. You’ll use it for maps, translation, payment, messaging, and photos—all day, every day. A 20,000mAh power bank gives you two full charges. Don’t bring the tiny 5,000mAh keychain one. Bring the brick. It’s worth the weight.

Pro tip: Most bullet trains have USB ports under the seats. Most subway cars don’t. Charge your phone and your power bank every night. You’ll need both.

4. A Universal Adapter That Actually Fits

Chinese outlets take Type A (two flat pins, like the US) and Type I (three flat pins in a V shape, like Australia/New Zealand). Some newer outlets are universal and accept everything. But many older hotels and train stations still use the old two-pin sockets that don’t ground properly.

I once fried a laptop charger because I used a cheap adapter that didn’t fit snugly. The connection sparked. The charger died. The hotel front desk looked at me like I was an idiot.

What to bring: A universal adapter with Type A and Type I support. Bonus if it has USB-C fast charging built in. Don’t bring a voltage converter—Chinese voltage is 220V, same as most of the world except the US/Canada (110V). Most phone chargers and laptops handle 100-240V automatically. Check the brick before you plug it in.

5. Toilet Paper and Wet Wipes — You Will Need Them

The first public restroom I used in China had no toilet paper, no soap, and a squat toilet that I still don’t think I used correctly. The second one was worse.

This is not a joke. Many public restrooms—especially in train stations, parks, and smaller cities—do not provide toilet paper. Some don’t have doors that lock. Some don’t have flush handles that work. Carry a small pack of tissues or a roll of toilet paper in your day bag. Wet wipes are even better because they double as hand sanitizer when the sink has no soap.

One more thing: Don’t flush toilet paper down the toilet in older buildings. The pipes are narrow. There’s usually a trash bin next to the toilet. Use it. It’s weird at first, but you’ll get used to it.

6. Imodium and Antibiotics — Because Street Food Happens

I ate a street skewer in Xi’an that looked fine. It tasted amazing. Two hours later, I was in my hostel bathroom wondering if I’d made a terrible mistake. The hostel owner gave me some Chinese medicine that worked, but I couldn’t read the label.

Chinese street food is incredible. You should eat it. But your gut might not agree with the local bacteria, oil, or spice levels. Bring Imodium (loperamide) for emergencies. Bring a course of antibiotics like Cipro or Azithromycin if you can get a prescription. Also bring oral rehydration salts—they’re small, cheap, and save you from a bad night.

What I learned: You can buy most medicines at Chinese pharmacies, but the staff might not speak English, and the packaging is in Chinese. Bring your own.

7. Comfortable Walking Shoes — Not New Shoes

I saw a tourist in Beijing’s Forbidden City wearing brand-new white sneakers. By noon, she was limping. By 2 PM, she was sitting on a bench with blisters the size of grapes. She had walked maybe 4 kilometers. The Forbidden City is 7 kilometers end to end.

You will walk more in China than you expect. The Great Wall involves stairs. The subway involves long transfer tunnels. The hutongs involve cobblestones. Bring shoes you’ve already broken in. Bring good socks. Bring blister bandages. Don’t bring shoes that look cool but hurt after an hour.

My pick: A pair of trail runners or lightweight hiking shoes. They handle stairs, rain, and uneven surfaces. They dry fast. They don’t look ridiculous with jeans.

8. A Lightweight Down or Synthetic Jacket

I spent a week in Shanghai in October wearing a cotton hoodie. It rained. The hoodie got wet. I was cold and miserable for three days until I found a Uniqlo and bought a down jacket that packs into its own pocket.

China’s weather is extreme. Beijing winters are dry and bitter. Shanghai summers are humid and sticky. Spring and autumn can swing 20 degrees in a single day. A lightweight down or synthetic jacket that packs small is the most versatile piece of clothing you can bring. Wear it over a t-shirt in the morning, take it off at noon, put it back on at night.

Bonus: It doubles as a pillow on long train rides.

9. A Printed Copy of Everything

I was at a hotel in Guilin. The wifi was down. My phone had 5% battery. The front desk needed my passport number and visa details. I couldn’t pull up the email. The clerk was patient, but I felt like an idiot.

Print your passport info page, visa (if applicable), hotel confirmations, flight itineraries, travel insurance, and emergency contacts. Keep a physical copy in your bag. Keep another in your luggage. When your phone dies—and it will—you’ll have everything you need.

Also: Take a photo of your passport and visa with your phone. Email it to yourself. Store it in the cloud. Redundancy is survival.

10. A Good Translation App — Not Just Google Translate

Google Translate works with a VPN. But it’s slow, awkward, and sometimes wrong. I’ve had it translate “Where is the train station?” into “Where is the fire vehicle?” more than once.

Better options: Pleco (for Chinese specifically, with handwriting recognition), Baidu Translate (works without VPN, speaks Chinese out loud), or Microsoft Translator (good for conversations). Download the Chinese language pack before you leave so it works offline.

One more thing: Learn to say “hello” (nǐ hǎo), “thank you” (xiè xiè), and “sorry” (duì bu qǐ). People will be much friendlier if you try. Even if your pronunciation is terrible.

FAQ

Q: Do I really need a VPN? Can’t I just use hotel wifi? A: Hotel wifi is usually slow and often blocks the same sites. Without a VPN, you won’t get Google Maps, Gmail, WhatsApp, Instagram, or Facebook. Yes, you really need one. Install it before you leave.

Q: Can I use my regular credit card everywhere? A: No. Most small shops, street vendors, and even some restaurants only take WeChat Pay or Alipay. Big hotels and Western chain stores accept Visa/Mastercard. Bring one card as backup, but plan to use your phone for 90% of payments.

Q: Is it safe to drink tap water? A: No. Don’t drink tap water. Brush your teeth with bottled water. Buy bottled water everywhere—it’s cheap ($0.30 per liter). Some hotels provide free bottles. Some have water dispensers in the hallway.

Q: What if my phone gets stolen? A: Keep a printed copy of your passport and emergency contacts. Have your travel insurance number saved. Lock your phone with a strong password. Don’t leave it on tables in cafes. Petty theft exists in crowded areas like train stations and markets.

Q: Do I need to bring cash? A: Bring about $100 equivalent in small bills (50 and 100 yuan notes) for emergencies—taxis that don’t take digital payment, street vendors who only take cash, or situations where your phone dies. You won’t use it much, but you’ll be glad you have it.

Q: Can I use my US/European SIM card with roaming? A: Yes, but it’s expensive and slow. Better to buy a Chinese SIM card at the airport or a China Unicom/China Mobile store. You’ll need your passport. Data plans are cheap ($10-20 for 30 days). Get one with a Chinese number so you can set up WeChat Pay.

Q: What’s the one thing I should NOT pack? A: Don’t bring a drone unless you’ve researched the registration rules. China has strict drone laws. Don’t bring political books or materials. Don’t bring CBD oil or any cannabis products—China has zero tolerance for drugs. And don’t bring expensive jewelry you’d be sad to lose.

The Honest Wrap-Up

This list is for people who want to travel China without the headaches I had. It’s not for people who want to pack light at all costs—you can get by with less, but you’ll spend more time solving problems than enjoying yourself. It’s also not for people who want to buy everything there—you can find most things in China, but finding them in your size, in English packaging, at a reasonable price, is a gamble.

If I could give one piece of advice to a friend about to book their flight: set up WeChat Pay and Alipay before you leave, and test them with a small payment. That single step will save you more frustration than any other item on this list. Everything else is negotiable. That one isn’t.

China is overwhelming and beautiful and chaotic and unforgettable. Pack smart, and you’ll spend less time panicking and more time eating noodles in a hutong at midnight, watching the city hum around you.