She says: Shanghai (pronounced, as we learned, as "Shung-hi") was, for us, a study of opposites, as we've found so many Asian cities to be. It reminded us in turns of New York, Paris, Bangkok and Hong Kong.
Shanghai was one of our many layover stops on this trip and we had just under 24 hours from our arrival until our departure to explore this massive city. Luckily, we were reminded by Red Pine friends that the younger brother of our friend, Clark has been living and working in China for the past several years. We haven't seen Drake in many, many years and both remember primarily as a camper at Red Pine. I facebooked him a while ago and got an email from Clark letting me know that though Drake was able to read messages on facebook, the block in China made him unable to respond. We got his email address and got in touch. He graciously gave us all kinds of great advice (including info about the maglev and subway routes to take to our hotel) and even offered to tour us around, a welcome break from HOHO tours.
Flash forward to our arrival in Shanghai. We got off our flight (which had been a lovely ANA business class flight from Tokyo) and made our way to the entrance to the maglev. Right away, we found ourselves missing the politeness and efficiency of Japan. In the first five minutes off the plane, we had probably uttered phrases starting with, "In Tokyo, this would have been better because...." about seventeen times.
Luckily, Drake had given us good directions, and we were able to make our way onto the correct train. Matt was thrilled by the ride on the maglev. (We are blogging right now in on our Australian cruise ship waiting for tenders ashore and I know he's writing about it, so I won't write too much). The maglev felt like a rollercoaster in the way that it zipped through the city and tilted one way and then the other. I half expected it to do a full loop at some point.
As awesome as the maglev was, the subway was equally disgusting. We found the station and went through several x-rays before we were able to board the stinky car. Fortunately, we'd gotten accustomed to the Tokyo system, so the Shanghai one seemed simple in comparison and we were able to easily purchase our tickets and find our way.
Aside from the rudeness, getting pushed and shoved, sweating through the humidity, dodging spitting people and our ongoing jetlag, things were going relatively smoothly so far. Once we emerged from the subway station, our luck turned. I'm pretty sure my bad fortune from the temple in Asakusa finally kicked in.
(Live update: still in the restaurant on the Aussie cruise ship, the staff just announced two groups ahead of ours to board the tenders and cheers and groans broke out. Matt and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. More on how hilarious our nursing home on the sea is soon. I asked Matt what he's writing about and he said he is writing the exact same story I'm about to tell you. I guess you'll read it from two points of view. We'll see whose is more accurate. Mine, I'm sure. Now, back to your regularly scheduled program).
So, picture us, the only white people emerging from a busy subway station, weighed down with our backpacks, eyes searching wildly for something vaguely familiar. Our directions from Drake at this point were "find a cab to take you to the hotel". We thought this would be easy. Ha!
We found our way to what looked like a fairly busy street and were approached almost immediately by several three wheeled car drivers (similar, though even more rickety looking than the tuk-tuks in Bangkok) who wanted to give us a ride. We waved them away, thinking that our too big for Asia bodies, as well as our bags would surely weigh down the carts, making any speed negligible.
Cabs were zipping by on the street and we started to flag. One after another they looked at us and sped by. We watched as Chinese people hopped into the same cabs that had dismissed us. We tried several corners, sweating, senses awakened after the quiet streets of Tokyo. Remember how I told you no one jaywalks in Tokyo? No one crosses at crosswalks in Shanghai. Also, despite the busy traffic in Tokyo, we never heard a single horn. We were jolted into awareness by the horns of Shanghai.
Several frustrating minutes of taxi rejection later, we were sweating through our clothing and desperate. We finally decided to head to another street. Same story there.
Finally, we watched as three teenage girls climbed out of the back of a three wheeled car. They were the first people who looked at us in a moderately friendly way and the driver offered to pick us up. Desperate, we got their help to negotiate a price with the driver and hopped on board.
Very quickly, we realized that this was a disaster waiting to happen, we were moving at a snail's pace, attracting consistent honks and the car itself was making a racket of protests, squeaking and groaning. I was energized by the ordeal, Matt was terrified, his eyes widening by the moment. We wound through streets, getting a backwards view of some of the dirty areas of Shanghai. Suddenly, we turned a corner and had a beautiful view of the futuristic lit-up skyline. We both breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe our hotel would be in an OK place after all. As soon as we had started to breathe easy, our driver started up over the tiny incline of a bridge and the already struggling vehicle ground to a near halt. We literally started rolling backwards. With a nervous giggle, Matt said, "I think we're going to tip." Incredulous, I shook my head. Somehow, my body reacted though, and we and our luggage popped out just before the whole car tipped over. Matt reacted calmly and moved clear. I screamed loudly, attracting the laughs and stares of people passing by. The driver righted the vehicle, moved to the top of the hill and seemed to beckon us back. Yeah right. After I reached into my bag for a new memory card to document the moment, he zoomed away, much lighter without our extra weight.
As I started to make a video of Matt explaining what I thought was a hilarious situation, a cab came by and we were actually able to flag it down. Our luck was finally turning. Our hotel was only a few moments away and as soon as we entered the lobby of the impressive looking heritage building (the amazing Astor Hotel), we were greeted by the smiling (and significantly less sweaty than us) face of Drake Masters. We gratefully dropped our bags in our surprise upgraded room and headed right out to get a view of the city before the lights went out.
We had ridiculously overpriced water on the roof of the Peninsula Hotel as we looked over the city and were impressed by Drake (or Ma-Da-Ku in Chinese)'s knowledge of China. We arranged for an early (for our sleep-deprived bodies) meet up the next morning to get in as much sight-seeing as possible before our 7:35 p.m. flight the next day.
On the short walk back to our hotel, we noted the unique Chinese fashion for men with two functions - both beauty and staying cool. Men roll their shirts up over their bellies and walk around confidently revealing their stomachs unself-consciously. We saw a great number of bellies over the next 12 hours and Matt and Drake even joined in.
After a much too short sleep, we popped out of bed the next morning, got breakfast in the ridiculously opulent Peacock Hall at the hotel and met Drake once again. He was the perfect tour guide, taking us on a many hour walking tour of the city. Our first impressions of Shanghai were by far the worst and we enjoyed the city much more in the daytime with an experienced guide.
Some of the highlights of the day include: watching Drake haggle in Chinese to get our souvenirs (I got a chop with my name on it and Matt got a cut out of his face and a clay model of himself - totally hilarious); thinking that Drake was playing a prank on me with the "famous Shanghai sweets" that turned out to be dry peanut paste that I thought I'd never produce enough saliva to swallow; when we posed with a police officer who was staring with us for a photo and he tried to sneakily grab my bum and I reacted with a scream; noticing that little Chinese toddlers have slits in the bottom of their pants and learning first hand that they don't wear diapers, but instead use this convenient slit to relieve themselves whenever and wherever they want; walking through a back street market with live sea snakes in bins (for eating!); Drake introducing us to the best dumplings in the world and Matt eating four of them without piercing them with his chopsticks; sweating through our clothing completely; brilliantly remembering to bring our promotional fans from Tokyo and putting them to great use; Matt finding something on a Chinese menu that tasted almost exactly like spaghetti and meat sauce; the propaganda shop and walking until we were blistered. Luckily, the lounge at the Shanghai airport had showers and we were able to clean up before heading on to Sydney.
Our day in Shanghai was incredible. We packed at least three days of sightseeing into one. It took our cab nearly half an hour to drive back to the hotel. We couldn't believe how much of the city we had seen. We are so grateful to Drake for taking the day off and coming into the city and showing us a great time. From him, I also learned a new meaning for the whistle and will never quite think of whistling a happy tune the same again.
Our mothers will be happy to hear that after all the adventures of getting from the airport to the hotel, we took a cab to the airport. It was an uneventful journey.
Once again, I realized what an idiot I can be when we travel and how good it is that I don't scuba dive. At busy markets packed with people, I'd get distracted by an interesting photo op or piece of jewellery and wander away from the boys. Luckily, the two of them were much more alert than me, or I'd still be lost inside a Shanghai market, following a little kid with split pants or looking at pantyhose displays. My sister-in-law has the same tendencies while scuba diving and my brother Chris worries about her getting lost when they scuba together. I'm pretty sure I'd disappear forever if someone gave me a tank and an interesting fish appeared.