“Loser Back Home” is Having a Good Trip

By John Griswold

October 19, 2026

Loser Back Home
A dog on a river in Jiangxi Province, southwest China. (Photo courtesy loser_back_home)
People & Places | Dispatches

If you have ever had the good fortune to travel for long periods without the attenuators of comfortable conveyance, good hotels, familiar (or just safe) food, and the privileges of using your own language, you may know the feeling like ego death that can develop when everything becomes terminally defamiliarized, leaving you hyperaware but understanding nothing. If so, you are going to love the brief video essays of loser_back_home on Instagram or TikTok.

Loser Back Home (LBH), who prefers to remain pseudonymous, is traveling through China right now. He has made some 31 social media videos—which began with the series title, “Day [9, 11, 18, 28, 62, etc.] of Not Understanding Anything in China”—as he has passed through, eg, Ganzhou, Ningming, Wuhan, Yueyang, Shaoshan, Chongqing, Chengdu, the Three Gorges area, Zhang Zhou, and other places, including non-Chinese cities Bangkok and Vientiane.

Each post is a collage of travel clips of mostly indistinguishable mountains, factories, road tangles, endless concrete plazas, city buildings, grubby restaurants, rivers, trees, trains, and crowds. The videos and wry narration capture the strangeness of deep travel, as impressed on a mostly good-humored and long-suffering foreign traveler.

LBH is a young guy from the UK who speaks Chinese quite well. We never see his face, though a Chinese unc, drinking his breakfast on a crowded train, says LBH is as beautiful as a woman (and asks his marital status). We rarely hear LBH’s real voice; the narration is by an AI-generated, older, British male. LBH seems to be alone on his seemingly aimless trip, except during a visit from his mom, and some travels (echoing Graham Greene) with someone he calls his Chinese aunt.

On his arrival in Beijing, where she lives, he says, “Something in the sunset, giving alien desert-y environment,” the perfect phrase for what is shown. “Your aunt prepares you a Western breakfast,” the narrator says: overcooked “fried egg, tiramisu, and Starbucks coffee. Afterwards says, ‘You’re kind of fat.’”

A train ride together to yet another city and another bland hotel room, which has “luxury you can’t quite accuse of luxuriance.” “Next day, alongside eggs and broccoli, staff prepare a Western breakfast for you, of chicken nuggets and chips [fries]. So Western.” He and his aunt make it to a place up the coast where the Great Wall descends into the sea. She forbids him to swim around the end of the wall to another Chinese province but reluctantly agrees to walk with him a short distance on the Wall, calling her sacrifice, “Risking one’s life to accompany a gentleman.” Later, “Your aunt, while breaking traffic regulations, announces, ‘Breaking traffic regulations.’” She calls what he is doing “poverty traveling.”

With LBH we encounter a closed market with “an anxious cat pondering the implications of an AI-driven world,” another breakfast of yet more coffee and “a local high-girth banana,” a chihuahua floating alone on a river on something the size of a kickboard. LBH has tics: he insists on swimming in rivers, especially when told not to because the water is dangerous or polluted. He has an attitude about monks on public transport.

I messaged LBH to see if I could find out more about him and his project. He replied, and we exchanged messages. He went to university and is on sabbatical from the civil service.

“I lived in China previously but never had much opportunity to see the country,” he says. “Every trip I had been on though made me want to see more. I’d been to a wedding in Zhengzhou with red packets and tiger skin carpets and smoggy views of a huge grey city. In Yunnan I’d seen shamanism and animal sacrifice in the jungle. But I’d never been on a long-distance train, I felt like I didn’t know anything, and there was a lot to get to the bottom of. I also felt like I’d spent a lot of time there without really making anything out of it, which is sort of what I’m trying to do with the videos.”

He says they look the way they do accidentally. “Especially when filming people or interactions, I just record in wide-angle, hoping to get something in frame. I do want it to look quite low grade though, which I think the algorithms punish. I also just really like what China looks like, especially from trains, seeing the huge spaces in between places, the natural world and huge infrastructure. I hadn’t really thought of it, but people on Chinese tiktok have said the videos look like Jia Zhangke films, which I like.”

LBH says that when he got to China he had been reading Beckett’s Molloy, “which has a vibe of ‘not understanding anything,’ the world as an alien thing, constantly defying interpretation, where things just happen to you, which I liked and felt was close to my experience here. I wasn’t really interested in making videos that ‘explain’ China and wanted to go the opposite way and focus on not understanding.”

Other influences include books on China by Paul Theroux and Peter Hessler, but he says he prefers Geoff Dyer’s travel books, since “he’s constantly tearing himself apart in a very funny way. He seems almost completely unserious, but is actually writing about himself and travel in quite a deep way.

“I really like the Chinese language and the Chinese version of the English language,” LBH says. “They make the world feel strange and the language feels fresh. In the videos I use a lot of weird English language from signs, especially museum signs (‘spectacular, dangerous and famous in the world’), and also use direct translations of Chinese words and phrases (‘old driver’, ‘tofu brain’, ‘random spicy dick province’), which have an awkward vibe, which I like. I try not to care too much if anyone understands what I’m saying.

“I also like Internet language. I sort of love brainrot trends and terms like ‘mogging’ and ‘delulu’ and ‘brainrot’ itself, but they’re kind of cringe so I try not to overuse them.”

LBH has many followers, and many leave supportive and excited comments. Someone mentioned documentarian John Wilson, “which might be an influence in that he’s quite an awkward person who just invites himself into weird social situations,” LBH says.

“I’m surprised people take any interest, [but] I’m pleased when people get enjoyment from the videos…. Recently, a couple of people have translated the videos and uploaded them to the Chinese version of tiktok (douyin), which I’m surprised they thought was worth doing. But I’ve been quite interested in the reaction there, where people have said the videos show them things they’ve never seen before about their country, and that they are ‘funny’, ‘poetic’ and ‘very realistic’.”

Someone else begs in the comments that LBH write a novel of his adventure. Another says his style of narration has become the narration in their own mind. Another adds, “My absolute favourite account—forced myself not to watch for a couple of days to be able to binge.”

Instagram user the_power_of_ginger says, “Mind sharing what the hell you are doing in China mate?”

“I’m trying to show you,” LBH says.

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