Fireworks going off amid the revelry at a beach in Sanya, a resort city on Hainan Island in southern China. Unlike in Europe, Russians find a refuge on the beaches of Sanya from sanctions and ‘sideways looks’, toasting the new year beside a Chinese nuclear submarine base. — Gilles Sabrie/The New York Times
GATHERED on New Year’s Eve in the banquet hall of a beachside hotel in southern China, tipsy revellers jumped to their feet to toast the arrival of 2026 – two hours early.
They were not befuddled by drink, but wanted to celebrate the new year according to Vladivostok time, two hours ahead of China.
Slurred cries went up in Russian: “Happy New Year, Vladivostok! Happy New Year, Russian Far East!”
Many partygoers – mostly Russians with a few Kazakhs and others from the former Soviet Union – drifted away before midnight in China, when the year officially began.
Unlike in many parts of Europe, where Russians have learned to keep quiet because of the war in Ukraine, Hainan’s beaches offer a sunny space to behave as they would at home, without fear of sideways looks.
Police patrolling the sands warned that fireworks were forbidden, but largely looked the other way as revellers launched Roman candles into the sea.
The number of Russian visitors to Hainan increased elevenfold between 2023 and 2024, making them the island’s biggest group of tourists.
Visa-free access and a welcoming hospitality industry have helped fuel the boom.
The Chinese government no longer releases Hainan visitor figures by nationality, perhaps to avoid drawing attention to Russia’s dominance.
During winter, Hainan sees eight or more flights each day from cities across Russia.
Locals whose livelihoods depend on tourism go out of their way to make Russian visitors feel at home.
Fake versions of Moscow restaurants, like Chaihona No. 9 – a copy of the popular Chaihona No. 1 chain – serve fusion dishes blending Central Asian and Slavic cuisines.
“Our countries have a lot in common,” said Piotr, a Russian-speaking guide leading tourists through a rainforest near Sanya, a beach resort also home to a Chinese naval base.
He apologised that lunch offered only beer, not vodka, invoking a stereotype of Russian taste.
At a grocery store in Sanya, Dimitry Garifullin, a businessman from Ufa, caters to Russians’ cravings for home comforts: black bread, pickles, cheese, frozen fish, sausages and shelf after shelf of alcohol.
Garifullin noted another form of affinity: local admiration for Vladimir Putin.
“Most Chinese like Putin. They see him as a very strong politician,” he said.
Yet he cautioned that Russia could learn from China.
“Everyone can learn from China,” he said, pointing to decades of economic growth, even if slower than in the past.
His store, stocked for Russian tourists over the New Year holiday, saw a roaring trade.
Asked if he had benefited from the war in Ukraine, which helped drive Russian tourism, he demurred: “I do not like the idea of profiting from the suffering of others.”
Dadonghai, the Sanya resort area where his store is located, is so Russian-focused that restaurant menus, official notices and shop signs are now in Russian rather than English.
Hotel staff greet foreign guests with “ZDRAST-vooy-tye” instead of “hello” or “ni hao”, and government-controlled loudspeakers along the beach play Russian folk classics like “Kalinka.”
For some Russians, China can feel restrictive, even compared with Moscow.
Anton Poltoushkin, an IT developer visiting with his wife and young son, said some topics were “too sensitive” to discuss.
He had preferred Europe, but visa restrictions after the invasion of Ukraine made it difficult to travel.
“I love the south of France, but how can I get to Nice or Monaco now?” he said.
Europe tightened visa rules in November, limiting Russian access, while China moved in the opposite direction, offering visa-free entry to Hainan in 2024 and nationwide since November to boost tourism.
Raniya Terkulova, a retired doctor from Tatarstan, was on her fifth visit.
Her family has long ties with China, dating back to the 1920s. She once admired China and its traditional medicine, but this trip ended her love affair after a clash on a beach with rude local vacationers.
Still, most Russian visitors come for the weather.
“It is now -30°C and snowing at home, and here it is 30°C and sunny,” said Nataliya, a cafe owner from Khabarovsk.
She used to go to Spain for sun, but after Russia seized Crimea in 2014 and Spaniards became less welcoming, she switched to China.
“Chinese don’t spit at Russians like Europeans do,” she said. Hotels are cheaper, the staff is accommodating, and visitors can relax without worrying about geopolitics.
For Russians in Hainan, the island offers more than warmth – it is a place to unwind, speak their language, and feel at home amid the sun, sand, and sea. — ©2026 The New York Times Company
This article originally appeared in The New York Times
