Day 15 - Shanghai Museum, The Bund and The French Concession

The view from the dorm.

Day 15 - 8th July

Waking up at the crack of Dawn (classic Gervais), I checked my washing to see if the wet bits had dried. Of course not! Typical. So I headed off to the sinks on my floor and washed everything again by hand. After wringing it out, I hung everything around the room, out on the window sill and even on the fire exit stairs, outside. The heat outside is the quickest way to dry things.

So I headed out, on my lonesome, looking for the Shanghai Museum. I reached station and wandered. A couple stopped me and asked me to take their photo. Being the English gent, I obliged. I quickly found out they were cousin. The girl, called Xieling (sounded like Shirley) and the guy, Wiju (sounded like Wii U) asked me if I wanted to try tea, authentic Chinese style. Who was I to deny them, plus I'm English, I love a good cuppa.

Sometimes, tea is all you need!

I discovered Xieling lived in Shanghai as an estate agent, whilst Wiju worked previously in a car factory. They were 27 and 28. They were friendly and wanted to show me what Shanghao had to offer. Within minutes, we were in the food district, and heading inside a narrow shop. The owner, opened a door with a sliding view point on it and I suddenly felt I was in some sort of trouble. Then the fun began. We had four different types of tea with Jasmin and fruit and all manner of other things in them. I was taught how the Chinese poured hot water on a statue for good luck, how you need to take three sips, smelling the aroma and swirling the tea around in the petri dish before each sip. It was quite the experience.

The Shanghai

After leaving them, I moved to the Shanghai Museum, losing myself in the history of ancient China for a few hours. From the Bronze gallery on the ground floor, up to level one for ceramics, onto level three for painting, seals and calligraphy and finally, coinage and the Jade gallery. All in all, three hours well spent.

The Shanghai Museum.

Created entirely of wood! It was about eight foot tall.

Why am I thinking of the Crystal Maze?

This is my admiring face.

Following this, I headed South towards the Bund, or 'Embankment of a muddy waterfront' to see The Shanghai Tower in all its glory. I stood in awe at its beauty, they way it completed the skyline. I hope to go that side of the water before I leave.

Amazing for a ridiculous £2.20 with a drink!

Strolling back, I stopped for pork and rice with a small, independent vendor, just off the Shanghai Music Hall. The food was incredible, the service very good and I had a full belly afterwards. What more could I ask for?

I decided whilst I was down in the South part of the city, I'd check out the French Concession, where many writers and travellers have gravitated in the past. Perhaps one day my name will be mentioned in those streets . , ,  it's good to dream , right? I navigated my way through the narrow streets, gawping at the delicious looking skewers, the famous yoghurt drinks and the souvenirs.

I suddenly saw a sign for Guiness and I instantly gravitated towards it. Bell Bar was small and quaint and I was warmly greeted as I walked in by the bar owner. A chap in his fifties from Singapore ask me to sit down beside him on the bar stools. Over a Guiness and single malt whiskey, we talked about my travels so far, my next ports of call and his time spent travelling China, Japan, Australia and other parts of the world for his trading job. It was definitely a highlight of the day as I passed a few hours just talking to a complete stranger.

Tired, I headed back to my hostel around 7pm, picking up bananas (my first fruit purchase since arriving in China), BBQ crisps (of course), a sprite and a large bottle of water. 

I was pleasantly surprised to find my clothes and towel dry and to celebrate, I watched Sean Penn and Javier Bardem in The Gunman with a few of the locals and a couple of other backpackers. Their reactions to the extreme violence were priceless to an American girl and I.

Who said being on your own was no fun?

Day 13 - Forget the slow boat to China, it's a slow train to Shanghai!

Please tell me that there is a 12 hour time difference between Xi'an and Shanghai so my journey is only 8 hours!

Day 13 - 6th July

So one thing I did forget to mention, I crossed off number 19 on my bucket list - Learn how to eat with chopsticks. Thanks to Will, Sean, Dan and a few others, I've sort of mastered the horizontal pick up and progressed to basic level of vertical pick up. Thank you guys.

Oh yeah, look at me go!

So last night was one of fun, me teaching my Chinese roommate, Wang how to speak English for his studies. Trying to tell him their is no 'Y' in the middle of Shakespeare was a particularly fun exercise.

'Shakey-speare,' he kept saying. In the end I resorted to shaking a bottle and spearing him with my pen. He understood clearly then. He taught me the Chinese numbers in sign so it was a win-win.

The fun soon faded come bed time and what ensued was an array of disruptions. The last guy to bed left the light on, followed by the air condition so my nipples were like Toronto's CN tower, and then I had all three Chinese men snoring in my dorm whilst I tossed and turned, hoping to get a good night's sleep, even if I did go blind from the light or get hypothermia. No such luck. Instead, I was treated to four hours of synchronised snoring, which I finally managed to make into 'A Thousand Miles' by Vanessa Carlton, a familiar tune on this triip (my Beijing contingent will appreciate this one!)

I laid awake from 5:30am, looking at the ceiling and thinking to myself, 'I wonder if I'd scare them if I just started shouting now.' Resisting a serious urge, I instead decided to roll around like a dog chasing its tail so the guy on the bunk beneath reshuffled, and the two others on the other bunk followed suit. Peace at last . . . nope, here's the chorus again. 

Eventually, I gave up, deciding to do a little more reading from my Lonely Planet guide book to gauge what fun I could have in Shanghai (Elliot, my roommate from Beijing said it has an awesome night scene. I'll check that out, I'm sure).

I'm wondered if someone dyslexic started this place and wanted to call it 'Discos.' Nothing would surprise me here.

So I got up at 6am and had a shower with my 'quick dry' towel which is damp, reminding me I need to do some laundry when I get to Shanghai. I then headed down the street in search of breakfast. Eventually, after passing Dick Coffee, which I passed up on, I found Dicos, which I assume is a healthier version of Little Chef or Wendy's. The chicken breast sandwich was nice with a black coffee as I wrote a little more of my novel. Every so often, I'd glance up to see the locals watching me - the novelty of a westerner in their midst has apparently not worn off for them yet.

Cracking bit of Madeira cake!  It soft enough to use as a pillow . . . Hmm.

On my way back to check out, I stopped for a slab of white sponge cake to take with me on my train journey. It's was going to be a long 20 hours to Shanghai.

I went back to my room, packed, bid Wang farewell eight times, grabbed my bag and checked out around 9am. I thought I'm doing well here, got my 100 Yuan deposit back, I've showered. Had breakfast and now I have a few hours before I leave for Xi'an train station. I check my reservation again . . . oh bugger! The train's not at 3pm, it's at 5:15pm. 

So I sit down in he common room of the hostel for five hours, messaging people, writing, peeing every half hour - damn coffee - and talking to Raoul and his wife, originally from El Salvador but now living in O.C, California. They've been happily married for 35 years in December (yeah, I can relate - my parent's celebrated their 35th anniversary in June - congrats again Kimbo and Michelob). 

Raoul went off to sort a tour or something, so me and his wife had a chat. She said the secret to a successful marriage was to work through difficult times so you don't get divorced. I agreed, pff, as if I knew anything about it. She then said the divorce rate was so high now, with people getting divorce two, maybe three times on average now. I laughed and she said by the third time, men would have erectile dysfunctions, resulting in divorce again! I laughed once more and she joined me. 'It could happen to you.' My laughter stopped abruptly. I'm not even married yet, let alone divorced three times and struggling to perform under pressure and here I am talking about it to a woman I've just met. She said even long time marriages like her, you had to keep each other interested.

When Raoul returns, she has a smile on her face. We shake hands, wish each other safe journeys and they leave. I'm feeling inadequate now and I'm not even in a relationship. Let's just hope I don't pull a Ross from Friends and get divorced three times. I don't want to be a flop at marriage (pun definitely intended).

So I headed off to the train station, walking the streets in the humid weather and check in. After a couple hours wait, I board the train and find my soft sleeper in carriage 10.

I'm greeted by a 19 year old, his aunt and his grandpa. The kid says to me I am the first English person he has ever met and well, the below says all . . .

Yep, those are my glasses he wanted to put on, no questions asked. 

Goodnight, see you tomorrow in Shanghai!