Shanghaied

I realize I left my last entry on a somewhat ambiguous note, my fault for writing in a hurry. The haircut experience was an enjoyable one, and I quite like the cut, or at least I did until I discovered that there’s a slight (must be intentional) gradient from back to front, and a sizeable chunk of longer hair in the front. Ooops. I’ll figure that one out tomorrow.

Friday afternoon took Xueqin, Jingbo and me to Shanghai for the weekend, to exploit a loophole that left everyone in China working or in class this weekend, in preparation for a national week off, and also gives us a class-free Monday. The weekend was lots of fun, but consisted almost entirely of walking and eating, so I’ll try and make it sound more interesting.

We got out of the subway station at Renmin Square around 7:30, and my first thought was that this was my kind of city. Don’t get me wrong, I really like living in Hangzhou, but aside from the manicured parks and restored pathways along West Lake it’s not much to look at. Chinese architecture leaves a lot to be desired, and most of the growth in the last few decades consists of big, white-washed utilitarian blocks, with cages built around the windows for hang-drying clothing and rust stains below the air-conditioning units. When we emerged in Renmin Square I saw a brick church surrounded by several beautiful business towers, and the cool breeze coming through the wide streets definitely added something to the atmosphere. A short walk took us to East Nanjing Rd, a pedestrian-only street that struck me as a somehow less obnoxious version of Times Square. Maybe that’s because the lack of cars made it a more comfortable walk, because it was equally as lit up with ridiculously bright and large neon signs. We emerged awed on the other end and continued on to our hostel.

We planned to go to the Bund area (riverside strip previously home to most of the expats) to eat, but found many pretty buildings with few open storefronts, and instead headed back to Nanjing Road to eat at a Japanese restaurant. The next hour and a half or so consisted of wandering about looking for a good bar we could park in, but found not a single bar, and in fact discovered the previously bustling Nanjing Road completely deserted at 11:30. Unarmed with Lonely Planets or maps, we had no idea where to look for nightlife, and the people we stopped on the street to ask were of little help. Admitting defeat, we headed back to the hostel, bought some beers and pored over our maps to figure out what to do Saturday.

What we did Saturday was wander around the area known as the French Concession (I doubt they ever actually conceded anything), which is characterized by pretty tree-lined streets, lots of history and the occasional good bakery. We parked in a café for several hours to get some work done, and scoped out the Indian restaurant we wanted to go for dinner. In the afternoon we dodged the hawkers “Hello? Lady? Watch? Handbag?” and set off down the main shopping drag on Huaihan Road. Against all odds, we found a shop called “Mister Donut” that is apparently a Japanese chain, so of course we had to go in and have a taste. One chocolate-custard filled pastry later, we continued down the line of expensive shops which carried clothing much too small for me.

We got to the Indian restaurant around 6:30. The appeal of the restaurant was not only the fact that it was Indian, but also the fact that it was a buffet with bottomless beer. Over the course of about 3 hours we slowly ate our fill of curry and did our best to get our money’s worth of Chinese beer (the story of the night is that my stomach took much more of a beating than my liver). Sated almost to the point where we couldn’t walk, we set off to a nearby Irish pub, which turned out to feature a large outdoor beer garden and a Rugby game on a projection screen. Jingbo satisfied his craving for a good cider, and we contemplated the oddities of Rugby (having seen some cricket at the Indian restaurant, I was more open minded to seemingly strange sports). After hitting another bar we were ready to check out the bar scene, and went to a place called Bonbon which had an amusing bilingual American emcee and good music. Somewhere around this time, Jingbo decided it would be a good idea to finish other people’s drinks, though he didn’t tell us this until later.

Today we slept in a bit and actually spent the entire day on a single item of business; trekking back over to the French Concession for a Western-style brunch (with a stop along the way to find Jingbo a Western-style bathroom). The café we picked had a glorious courtyard seating area, and something called the “Big Breakfast” which was a tray piled with two pieces of toast, three eggs, a pile of thick bacon, roasted potatoes, tomatoes and mushrooms, plus a glass of the first real orange juice I’ve seen since getting here. It was wonderfully decadent, and eaten around 2:00, so about the only thing I needed to eat all day. After digesting for a while we headed back to the subway station, and collapsed on some benches outside a shopping center for about half an hour watching the tourists and flipping through our Lonely Planets. All in all it was a beautifully extravagant weekend, well worth every calorie and every aching muscle.