Tag Archives: food

November 18th: An Art Deco Abattoir

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Qiandeng

A bus load of people outside Qiandeng

The months of October and November represent hairy cab season in Shanghai.  Farmed in speciality lakes between Shanghai and Suzhou, the crabs draw vast crowds of visitors from neighbouring provinces.  On Saturday, our Marketing Team arranged a coach trip to experience them first hand, along with a visit to a couple of local scenic spots.  I’m aware that with some foods there’s an art to eating them, but this was the most complex thing I’ve ever been faced with; dissecting a rat in biology lessons at school was far simpler.  The crabs don’t come with instructions but require a different technique  for the male and female of the species, and different rules for which bits of the innards can or can’t be eaten.  I gave up after breaking the legs and opening the lid to reveal a mass of different coloured insides.  Bron persisted.  Bron’s hands still smell of crab.

Inside the slaughterhouse

Inside the slaughterhouse

Today we’ve been to see a 1930’s slaughterhouse restored in 2008 as a commercial building.  A vast, open space made entirely of concrete and previously used to herd cows up four floors of ramps to meet a somewhat grisly death.  A common analogy for the building is M. C. Escher’s famous painting of impossible constructs since the stairs and ramps in the building seem to cross and change angle incoherently (although supposedly by design to allow the separation of animals and humans).  Hard to picture what it must have been like.

On Friday of last week I had my first real Chinese telephone conversation following a phone call from our ayi.  Normally when this happens I  just pass the phone to a Chinese colleague and have them translate for me.  This time we were in a supermarket.  I could have passed the phone to a random Chinese person in the shop; not sure it would have helped.  According to Google Translate (after the event), what I actually said was “I am not going to work, so I cannot say to colleagues.”  Close enough I reckon.  Followed by “We go home in 20 minutes”.

She kind of understood.  I think.

Anyway, our ayi has an easy life at the moment.  We’re getting to know a few people locally, and so we’re not as home as much as we should be (or probably need to be at our age).  And so our ayi has very few dishes to clean and almost no vacuuming to be done.   We even moved the sofa cushions around last week to pretend we’d sat on it between her visits.  Although if future weeks are like this one, with Indian, Nepalese, Thai and Cantonese food on the menu, she may have to cope with bigger clothes to iron.

The end of my blogs feel like a perfect opportunity for a rant.  So here goes… I appreciate that 7.30am on a Sunday morning is obviously the optimum time to read a gas meter.  But with both of us in desperate need of sleep, this is not good.  A message to Chinese gas companies that may randomly read blogs (albeit blocked in China) – please let us sleep!  After 9am, please?

11th November: Trees

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Teetering on the edge

Nicole and Bron out on a glass platform

Late in the evening, pouring with rain, dark and foggy; I’m grateful we couldn’t see much through the coach window as we gradually ascended towards our Moganshan country house.  I’m not sure how the coach driver could see much either but he got us there somehow.  Moganshan is a mountain (719 metres high) about 200km from Shanghai, and has a national park much beloved (according to our guide) of senior Chinese state officials.  Even when it’s cold, wet and windy it’s a beautiful place.  It has fresh air, rolling hills and a luscious, green landscape: all the things Shanghai doesn’t have.

As part of an Internations group of around 30 people, we arrived late on Friday evening following our 4 hour coach journey to be met with a local cuisine delicacy – beef bourguignon.  Sadly, no local Moganshan beer available; instead a couple of QingDaos and off to bed for a relatively early night in anticipation of the early rise on Saturday.

A wobbly bridge

Bron and Anca on the somewhat wobbly bridge

We’d made the right decision to bring walking boots with us, since what we thought might just be a minor stroll around the local sights turned into a circa 10 mile hike*.  Picking leaves off the tea shrubs/bushes/plants (whatever they’re called) lost its appeal when the guide told us we’d need to pick about 8000 leaves** to make enough for a single decent cuppa.  Lunch in a local restaurant somewhere near the top of the mountain with pre-picked tea was an eminently more sensible idea.

In the Moganshan house

Bron and the gang in the house

We were given an additional tour in the afternoon by a British Bloke living locally: Mark Kitto, author of a book called “China Cuckoo”.  A few insights into the ups and downs of an ambitious, but foreign, entrepreneur trying to do business in China and hitting, well, a few stumbling blocks.

Back to the house in the evening for a home-cooked meal from Shanghai chef Tomer Bar Meir – we’ve yet to visit his restaurant but will probably do so now.  Skye, owner of the most exotic of dance moves, yet again proved his dancing prowess to the amusement/bemusement of all.  An interesting mix of people in this trip, but just seven blokes.  If any single men in Shanghai are reading this – you need to be heading out on a few Internations trips.

With the weather massively improved on Sunday morning, we ignored the urge to stay in bed to sleep off any of the previous night’s excesses to head out for another walk – much shorter this time.   With much better views in the sunshine, I’m glad we did.

As is becoming normal with these Internations trips, we’ve met a great bunch of people that we’ll hopefully meet up with again soon.  Two young British girls were also there (recent graduates, working in Shanghai for their first jobs) and despite their offer to go out clubbing, I graciously declined after pointing out I was nearly twice their age.

All in all an excellent weekend – thanks to Skye and Yael for organising and hosting.  And thanks to Nicole for providing Saturday evening’s late-night entertainment (doubtless unintentional!).

Dodgy decor in Closless

Hannah, Marcel and Bron in Closless

Back in Shanghai; in previous posts I’ve mentioned a cocktail bar near us with about 10 seats in it.  On Tuesday night (following a curry in Tikka, our closest Indian restaurant) we took Marcel and Hannah there, but all the seats were fully occupied.  We’d always been aware there was some kind of small room at the other end of the bar but figured it was a private lounge or something.  It isn’t – we were ushered into the tiny room on Tuesday night to discover the walls were adorned with tasteful (honest!) photos of bums and boobs.  Hannah: “What have you brought us here for?  It’s like a sex room!”.  Admittedly, the blankets available for use by its patrons didn’t help.

On Thursday we received a parcel in the post from Rhian.  Shreddies, biscuits, shower gel and a few other British goodies – a fantastic surprise; thank you Rhian.  We were like kids on Christmas morning.

*Yes, I know some people run 10 miles on a Saturday morning and think nothing of it.  But we’re normal.

**I forget the exact figure.  Probably slightly less than that.

November 4th: Intimate Gigs and Lack of Glamour

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Kikuyu

This is what I mean by an intimate gig

Whilst the masses trudge off to be Eltoned (Mr John and his weave are appearing here later this month), Bron and I prefer our live music to be somewhat more intimate.  Appearing at a tiny courtyard about a 15 minute walk away in the middle of Saturday afternoon was an Australian lady called Kikuyu, armed with a keyboard and sampler.  A venue free to enter, the organisers were also good enough to hand out free cans of beer.  And organise a free barbecue (the worried Aussie drummer from local band Pairs  insisted we filled our boots due to the masses of meat-on-a-stick that kept appearing).  I love this though – getting to speak to the artist after she’s been on stage (figuratively – see picture), being fed and watered (beered?) with maybe 20 other people.  I don’t get the mass appeal of Elton John and his ilk – Shanghai is full of live music if people are prepared to look beyond what’s being advertised on the interactive screen in the back of  taxis.*

The Vue Bar for Jude's Leaving Do

Elouise, Bron, Me, Jude, Judy, Anny and Ryan in the Vue Bar

Elsewhere over the weekend, Friday night meant a visit to a spicy Hunan restaurant followed by the Vue Bar in the South Bund to say goodbye to Jude as she departs for Canada in a couple of weeks.  The Vue Bar has a great, well, view of the Bund from a different perspective to that with which we’re  familiar, but seems to have a ban on seatbacks.  Backache for all (especially Anny).  Jude joined Bron and I in our favourite local cocktail bar (Closless) to end the night, always a great place to do so being, as it is, 2 minutes away from home.  A youngster with a wise head on her young shoulders – Jude will do well back in Canada but will be missed by all (especially for having the world’s best poker face).

On Saturday night we met up with Jo and a few of her friends for a Greek meal in the Cool Docks area followed by a couple of drinks in the Glamour Bar on The Bund.  I’m not sure the Glamour Bar is really my cup of tea, being distinctly unglamorous as I am, but good to see Jo and Bron fitting in nicely…

We’ve had the Nixons visiting us in Shanghai this week; Chris to solve the world’s (well, Argos.cn’s) future infrastructure challenges, Mrs Chris to fill as many suitcases as possible with gifts to take back to the UK.  Great to see them both – and good to finally introduce Chris to the Shanghai Brewery on Tuesday night, complete with free horror cakes for Halloween (free for the ladies, but woefully neglected by the ladies, so I helped out).

Halloween in Mural Bar

Bron and the girls in the Mural Bar

And speaking of Halloween, Rachel dragged a few of us out on Wednesday night to a Halloween bash in the Mural bar.  Good value for the ladies (£3 to get in and free drinks all night long), not so good for the blokes (£5 to get in including one free drink only).  Plenty of weird outfits, and free horns for the ladies.  A curmudgeonly old git; no dressing up for me.

Akin to a scene from Terry Gilliam’s Brazil**, a few workmen came over on Wednesday to switch our heating on.  In the roof terrace is a strange cubbyhole consisting of pipes, knobs, extension cables, hosepipes and several more pipes.  Activating the heating system would therefore seem to consist of attaching hosepipes to pipes, moving a few dials, draining a little water onto the floor and into other pipes, and repeating the process several times until a consensus of nods is reached.  It is either on or off – no thermostats here.  But we’re apparently fortunate to have heating at all, in which case manually fiddling with radiators when we need a little heat doesn’t feel like too much of a chore.

A workman is here at the moment (Sunday morning) to takeaway the doorbell to fix it.  I’m not sure how we’ll know when he’s bringing it back.

Later today it’s back to the Cool Docks area for an Indian lunch (buffet hopefully) with Chong.  So that should do us nicely for the rest of the day… Sundays are definitely becoming single-meal days…

Pollution, what pollution (from iPhone App).

And not end on a downer, but Autumn can be bloody miserable here.  The decaying, dying leaves seem to beckon down layers of pollution onto Shanghai.  To look out of the window in the daytime is to be confronted by a wall of grey; the dirt of the city normally obscured by sunlight becomes highlighted in the murk.  Maybe we should only go out at night.

*Yes, get me.

**This only a slight exaggeration, honest.

Vue Bar

Me & Jude in the Vue Bar. The very dark Vue Bar.

Club Truelove's Temporary Entrance

Halloween in Shanghai – Club Entrance

Vue Bar

Jude, Judy and Anny in the Vue Bar

October 28th: Only Lightly Polluted

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This week Shanghai experienced its most polluted day in about six months.  Fortunately, we have the US Consulate and the Chinese Ministry of Environmental Protection keeping an eye on the smog for us.  The US Consulate’s figures were accompanied by a health warning of “hazardous” (get indoors now; don’t breathe for a few days).  The Chinese State’s assessment was somewhat different, describing it as merely “lightly polluted” (reduce outdoor exercise).  The discrepancy is easily explained away by the local government, accusing the US Consulate of measuring different particles sizes.  Not being an expert here, I much prefer the benign sounding “lightly polluted”.  I’m interpreting it in the same way a packet of crisps could be “lightly salted” – Ok in small doses but too much may cause your lungs too collapse.

A multi-cultural week food wise for me and Bron.  An Indian take-away on Wednesday night with Rachel and Andrea, taking advantage of another essential of life in Shanghai: the home delivery service form Sherpas (£1.50 delivery charge from any restaurant within about 5 miles of where we live.  Any restaurant but usually one selling curry.  And yes I know we should be cooking having brought an Indian shop’s worth of spices with us.)

Back to Sailor’s on Thursday night for fish & chips (counting this as English food) to celebrate JB’s last night in Shanghai (for a whole week).  Sailor’s is on Yongkang Lu, an arty sort of street full of tiny restaurants and bars, loads of Westerners and many disgruntled local residents.  A few complaints (understandable) from those that live above the restaurants saw the arrival of the police shortly after 10pm to usher everyone indoors.

Friday night’s Chinese meal was a buffet-style affair inside another KTV (karaoke) warehouse as Tim took the IS and IT teams out for three hours of singing/wailing.  An elaborate computer system, entirely in Chinese,  allows visitors to select songs from a list and add them to a queue.  Having been a few times, I’ve memorised the right sequence of buttons to take me straight to Radiohead’s “High & Dry” (no Smiths, Cure or Aphex Twin sadly; but they did have a bizarre easy-listening version of Muse’s “Plug in Baby”).  Songs are added to a queue to give everyone a go, but mysteriously my and Tim’s songs kept getting bumped to the top….

Austrian night

Nicole, Jo, Bron and Chong at Austrian night

Bron avoided the ear assault by going out for an Italian instead, so Tim and I joined her later on in Kaiba, a Belgium Beer bar that features a huge selection of beers from around the world (including London Pride).  Ostensibly the launch night (even though we’d been there about a month ago), the police were again in attendance to usher people off the street and back into the bar.

Saturday night was Austrian night, courtesy of Juliane (the only Austrian we know).  The Hyatt hotel on the North Bund apparently has an Austrian chef and manager, so why not… Juliane and Nicole fully dressed in dirndl’s, putting the rest of us to shame.  I’m not sure I’ve experienced Austrian food or drink before, but the plum schnaps, beef stew and apple strudel did the job nicely.  I also don’t know any Austrian songs apparently; even the standing up and sitting down again song got the better of me.

Paradise and Hell Bar

A bar run by a cat.

We ended the night with Juliane and Bruce in the Paradise side of a bar called “Paradise and Hell”.  One side was kind of white, the other a tiny bit red.  Having never been to Paradise before, I now know it features a very comfortable cat that appears to manage bars, overseeing as it did the behaviour of its patrons and the delivery of new beer.

I’m writing this early on Sunday morning; knackered thanks to the workman who rang our doorbell repeatedly at 7.20 this morning.  Wrong house.  Thanks.

Austrian night

(Apologies for dodgy quality): Isaac, me, Bruce, Juliane, Nicole, Jo, Bron and Chong at Austrian night

A big brass instrument

Isaac and Juliane with the Austrian musicians

October 21st: Green Tea with Whisky

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Everything here is hectic; Shanghai never stops.  The old folks arise at sunrise to do their morning Tai Chi before being gradually interrupted by the commuting masses.  Armies of three patrol during the daytime as grandparents take their single grandchild out and about.  Local restaurants fill to bursting point between 12pm and 1pm as the Chinese, in unison, eat lunch, and again between 6pm and 7pm as the commuters stop off enroute home; Western style restaurants fill-up a little later.  Street vendors appear after 10pm to feed the stragglers and restaurant workers, offering miscellaneous veg and meats on-a-stick.  The bars and clubs close their doors in the early hours as the revellers stagger home in a manner completely discordant to the graceful movements of the Tai Chi masters.

To survive in Shanghai is to be swept along as one of its adopted citizens, going with rather than against the flow.  Never quite understanding but fully accommodating this is a place where everyone seems to do everything at exactly the same time.  Chaos, but somehow organised.  The more we flow with it, the less time we have to miss the UK.

Alex's leaving do

The girls out at Alex’s leaving do: (L to R) Haze, Jude, Bron, Alex, Judy, Lilly, Susan, Anny, Yeats, Yolanda and Kiwi

We’ve had week of mixing with locals and expats; KTV (Karaoke) and whisky with green tea (starts off weirdly; gets better over time) with the HR team on Thursday night to say goodbye to Alex as she ends her 6 week trip to Shanghai.  We discovered it’s impossible to duet with JB since what he may lack in tunefulness is fully compensated by volume (and always entertaining).

On Friday night I joined Bron and her marketing colleagues for a sauna.  OK; technically, this was a meal in a Korean barbecue restaurant where you cook your own food.  But the lack of air con and being positioned directly in front of hot charcoals meant a good compromise between sweating the toxins away whilst ingesting others.

Me and Marcel on the boat...

Not quite “King of the World”

On Saturday Bron and I disappeared out on a boat at a yacht club an hour away from Shanghai with several other ex-pats as part of an Internations trip.  Mid-October and still shorts & t-shirt weather; I could do with the weather staying exactly like this (mid twenties) but sadly it won’t last.  A barbecue to follow the boat trip and a little dancing to Shakira (my “dancing” lasted maybe 10 seconds having steadfastly refused until nearly the end of the song).  And the happiest corner shop owner in the world as a coachload of (mainly) foreigners pulls up outside her shop to purchase a few beers for the journey home.

A cracking Sunday roast (our first in Shanghai) today with JB, Elouise, Ryan and Richard and a few games of pool to round off the weekend.

The routine of chaos begins again tomorrow….

October 14th: The Japanese Diversion

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Writing this bit on a Shinkansen train to Hiroshima, where the onboard announcements are preceded by the first 5 notes of the British national anthem, although I assume that’s a coincidence. And the staff bow each time they enter or exit the carriage (then again, the ground staff bowed to the plane when it landed).  Other than that, Japanese trains are perfectly normal.

Japan is weird.  Entertaining, sometimes breathtakingly beautiful, but weird.  Entire buildings filled with arcade-style crane grabbing machines to win anything from, erm, happy-lady-toys to packs of Pringles.  Dedicated drinking streets where you, too, can share one of many wooden sheds with 3 other squashed people.  Cisterns that double as sinks (genius). Women dressed in pink rabbit outfits (note: definitely not bunnies) to lure men into bars.  Giant robot women in pink bars.

And ridiculously expensive.

Recognising that most of our Chinese colleagues are not happy about us visiting Japan due to the Diaoyu Island dispute, we’ve broached the subject in several bars to get the Japanese perspective.  So far the view is one of indifference – everyone we’ve asked seems to think it should be up to the politicians to decide but wouldn’t be too upset if they were officially ruled as belonging to China.

What follows is the quick record of our trip – far too much to type up in detail (and far too much effort to tidy up the mixture of tenses, styles and content).  I’ve also uploaded a few select photos – the remainder we’ll inflict on relatives only (and I might get around to labeling/tagging the photos later this week).

I don’t think we’ll have 10 days as bizarrely entertaining for quite a while.

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4th Oct Thursday: Tokyo

Landed in Tokyo; monorail and metro (“Tokyo Met-a-ro” says the announcer) to the hotel in Shinjuku.

Lunch in restaurant: push buttons in machine outside to make choice and take ticket to counter.

Evening: edge of tropical storm – heavy rain after 10 minutes = not going anywhere so hotel restaurant instead. Confused waiter by giving him Chinese bank card to pay . He says “Xiexie” (Chinese for thank you).   Loving the Japanese pronunciation of new words – such as (phonetically) “Inta-neh-toe”.

Out after rain.  Weird sights in Shinjuku.  Neon everywhere.  Bars called things like ‘Happy Girls’.  We think this may be red light district.  Huge chair beyond window with big mechanised woman behind.  We have no idea.

Man beckons to us: “Come into club – couple friendly but you [me] can mix with Japanese girls; they have good English”. We decide this definitely is red light district.

Ended up in tiny bar in Golden Gai area -‘Hip’ – 6 seats. Barman plays guitar in a band called Kactus. Few hours later back to hotel.

 

5th Oct Friday: Tokyo

Visited local government building shaped like computer chip. Building swayed by seven metres in earthquake.

Asakusa area- interviewed by Japanese TV crew on how polite Japanese people are. Very.

Tokyo Sky Tree tower.  Very tall (350m).  Massive queues.  Big views.

Top nosh meal in Jyujyu teppan restaurant.  Avoided place with “biblemeat” and “pig rectum” on menu.

Early-ish night (midnight) due to tomorrow.

 

6th Oct Saturday: Tokyo

Up at 3.30am to go to Tsukiji fish market.  Ridiculously expensive taxi: about 30 quid.  In Shanghai we could almost travel all day for that. Queuing outside from 4.20am. Only 60 people allowed in.  Entertained hungry mosquitos.  In at 5.50.  Watched tuna auction.  Done at 6.30.  Breakfast at 7am of sashimi – not normal.

Tsukiji is biggest fish market in the world.  Struggled to find our way out.  Bed at 9am. Up again at 1pm.

Imperial palace: couldn’t get near.

Saturday evening with Dwight from Brainchild in local tempura place (excellent food).  Didn’t know you could eat the leg things from prawns.  You can.  And eel bone. Along with different types of sake.

On to another small bar in Golden Gai area. They feed us sour Japanese plums.  Bar-lady to Bronwen:

  • “Are you married?”
  • “Yes”
  • “You’re very beautiful”
  • “Oh, thank you”
  • “I’m bisexual”

Photo of us taken and now on loop on digital photo frame in bar.

Mosquito bites doing well.

 

7th Oct Sunday: Hiroshima

Train to Hiroshima. Meet up with Rachel half way there (with about a minute to spare).

Atomic Bomb Dome and Peace Memorial Museum. Very graphic; incredibly moving.

Turned away from 3 restaurants in evening (X-factor style crossing of arms apparently indicates they cannot accommodate us. But doesn’t indicate why).

Settle for all-you-can-eat place. No English, no pictures.  Rachel’s demands for sushi, sushi and more sushi were well met.

Discover at end of meal it was all-you-can-drink too. A discovery made too late.

Bite on arm continues to develop nicely.

 

8th Oct Monday: Nara

Train to Nara.  3 trains.

Hotel has no wifi but receptionist offers a razor and toothpaste instead.

Beautiful place. Largest wooden building in the world. Largest bronze Buddha in the world. World’s weirdest mascot: Baby Buddha with antlers.

Tame deer roaming free in park. Rachel attacked by deer.

Evening in restaurant with no English menu (or English spoken) but promising pictures of food. Inside we discovered there were only about 4 pictures available. We chose the pictures.

Bite on arm recedes after an evening of being frozen by ice.

 

9th Oct Tuesday: Kyoto

Rachel back to Tokyo. Bron and I to Kyoto. Hotel not where it was supposed to be.

Evening in tiny Japanese restaurant – best meal in Japan so far. Grilled beef cooked like we’ve never had before. Elderly Japanese lady next to us delighted we were heading to Kobe.

Bar staff in evening offer us Japanese sugar.  At least I think that’s what it was.

 

10th Oct Wednesday: Kyoto

Walked for miles (15 of them according to the Fitbit). Bamboo groves and orange painted lined avenues. Overheard a lady neatly summarising Kyoto to her husband: “There is a lot of temples”. Very accurate.

Another stunning place – views and scenery. No monkeys.

Gave in to 6 days without curry.

Refused to pay cover charge in several bars .Given X-factor style “members only” message in others. Found free bars instead.

Everywhere in Japan we’ve been to so far has featured areas with street after street of tiny bars, with the majority insisting on a cover charge of anywhere from £2 to £25 per person. We’ve only paid it one, by accident. And then negotiated a 2-for-1 deal.

Mid October and still T-shirt & shorts weather.

 

11th Oct Thursday: Kobe

Nishiki market in Kyoto – all manner of weird dried fish, aubergines in fresh batter, octopus on a stick.  Whole tiny octopus. Apparently romantic to share the head with your partner (girl in front of us did so).

Train to Kobe.

Ryokan (Japanese style) hotel – no hotel signs outside in English. Guess at entrance. Lady shows us to room but no sharing of names.  We hope we are in right place.  Cheapest night of our trip to Japan – shared bathroom, but free pyjamas.

Soju for pre-dinner drinks (similar to Sake but a bit more flavourful).  A bar full of huge Soju bottles and nothing else.

Noodles for tea.

Hit head four times in ryokan.  Hair is good.

 

12th Oct Friday: Arima Onsen (near Kobe)

Three local trains to Arima Onsen for Hot Springs hotel.

Bron gets to choose her yukata (type of kimono but less hassle) colour. Mine is fixed. Asked if I would like to pull Bronwen in a cart for 2 metres from reception to lift.

Room has an outdoor hot spring.  Relaxing but very orange.  Room also has magic toilet that opens its lid when you open the bathroom door and offers wash and blow dry.

We try another type of hot spring.  Water is hotter than the sun.  I am pink.

Evening meal consists of loads of courses of random Japanese food.  No instructions.  Given our own hot plate to cook Kobe beef.  Apparently the best beef in the world – might well have been if someone else had cooked it.

Head back into orange hot spring after dark – sat outdoors in a bath looking at stars.  Great experience.

 

13th Oct Saturday: Tokyo

More random food for breakfast followed by rice pounding demonstration.  One drum beat to one pounding of rice. We therefore cannot make at home (no drums).

Train back to Tokyo.Pass Mount Fuji, just like in every film with a train scene in Japan.

Met-a-ro to Shibuya.  Hotel is a hefty walk away – another Japanese style hotel (but this time with own loo).

All of Tokyo’s young people appear to be out in Shibuya in the evening.  More neon; more tiny bars; more robot women.  We find English bar (The Aldgate) selling probably the best beer this side of the planet.

Having tried Japanese-style curry on Wednesday, we opt for Japanese-style Thai food.  Good stuff.

End-up squashed into a place called the “Beat Cafe” surrounded by French people.

 

14th Oct Sunday: Shanghai

Train, monorail and plane back to Shanghai.  Back to normality?  Never thought I’d say that…