Shanghai, China
Come back Hangzhou, all is forgiven! Your strange deserted hotel and eerie unexpected silence are what I need right now. Outside my poky, slightly smelly hotel room are at least four women shouting at each other. It's 6.30am and I've been asleep just four hours. I presume there's some altercation going on, but then comes what sounds like laughter, followed by more shouted arguing.
Creeping under the door, tendrils of cigarette smoke are clawing their way into my chest. Having spent the last three days surrounded by a touring party who smoke at every given opportunity, both indoors and out, I'm already developing a tickley cough from continuous passive tobacco consumption, but I thought I'd be safe in my room.
I roll over and try to reclaim the sleep I was enjoying but the shrieking and pollution only increases until after an hour I can take it no more, wrenching the door open to give these torturing harridans a piece of my mind... but the glaring Chinese coven confronting me makes me think twice.
I shut the door, pull on my clothes and then, fully attired but looking like death warmed up, barge through their path, shooting them evils as I go. The band are due to be gathering at 7.45 for their 8am departure for Beijing, but only Carl and Lee are present, having also decided discretion was the better part of valour and sought their beds soon after returning to the hotel.
Luke and Josh are next to appear telling tales of through-the-night partying and then Darrin, followed by Alex who has also risen early to say farewell to them. Last of all descends Andy, who has obviously had better mornings. Hangovers, airports and flying are not the best of mates and with Mel hurrying them all along I fear their day is only going to get worse.
Alex and I see them on their way, very thankful that we have got an unexpected day of chilling out. We investigate the hotel's breakfast options but it's obvious that their clientele is 99% local as we don't recognise a single dish of indeterminate meat and vegetable extraction oozing and sweltering under the heat lamps, next to greying rice and thick greasy noodles. Even the orange juice is served hot.
We head back to our rooms and thankfully the ghastly witches have taken to their broomsticks and flown away but sleep does not return so I pack my bags ready for tomorrow and at 10am head downstairs to meet Alex and John for a day of sightseeing. And down the stairs I indeed go as the lifts are now out of action.
In the lobby awaits a deafening cacophony led by a woman screaming into her mobile phone with such vehement hatred I presume the recipient on the other end has murdered / slept with / castrated her husband. But not a soul around me even blinks as this must be normal behaviour here and I'm learning that high volume aggression seems to be friendly chitchat. It's totally disorientating.
While her tirade continues engineers are working on the lift with welding tools and huge clanging
pieces of metal that they beat the doors and lift shaft with. The hotel reception staff all converse with each other and the guests by shouting and then a baby arrives crying so loudly that it makes the industrial sounds of the engineers seem feather-light in comparison. Amongst this unbelievable din I sit slowly going mad, astonished that everyone else just thinks this is par for the course.
To be honest, if someone gave me a plane ticket right now I'd be out of China so fast you'd think they'd reinvented Concorde. This place is the most brutal assault on the senses of any city or country I've ever visited. There's absolutely no consideration for other people at all, just chaos, unabashed selfishness and utter sonic barbarity. And this is just in the hotel I'm staying in. On the streets it's even worse. Shanghai may be stunning by night but at this rate I don't think I'll ever be back.
Let's hope the sightseeing tour we're hoping to do may change my mind. Fortunately, for the first time since Friday when we were stuck at the airport hotel, the sun is shining again. And after 50 minutes of patiently waiting in this madhouse Alex appears offering profuse apologies for over-sleeping. It's like being rescued by the cavalry and I make my escape with a touch of manic glee.
Around the corner is the nearest metro station so we head there with a quick stop at an overpriced Costa Coffee just to get something edible for breakfast. John texts to say we should
go sightseeing without him as today he'll focus on shopping, hunting out cheap knock-offs of uber-chic Western brands.
On the subway train a young, rather camp, Chinese accountant called Max starts talking to us. He wants to learn all about where we're from and tells us in pretty good English that he's taking up a post with a firm in Aberdeen in September and talks about how much he loves Scotland. It's nice to chat to someone who seems to be sane amongst this slightly bonkers country and when we get to People Square he guides us out of the correct exit (no.19 - this station is vast!) and puts us on the right track for an open-top bus sightseeing tour.
At last, I sink into the seat and relax. It's a glorious day, I'm high above the crowds, the city lays before me ready to have its highlights delivered in a mindless parade that involves me doing nothing other than watching it unfold. Alex and I plug in our headphones, choose the English commentary and away we go.
Shanghai, a city of 17 million people (most of whom seem to be living in our hotel) translates as "above the sea", a name it acquired centuries ago when it was an ancient fishing village. The vast central space of People's Square is not wide and open as expected but bisected by roads, a park and various buildings within it. We make stately progress through it and then come to the Bund.
A long promenade of colonial buildings, it's the 19th Century face of Shanghai; grand buildings that once were banks, hotels and corporate headquarters of European traders but taken over by the One Party state apparatus after the Revolution and allowed to decay. But since the opening-up of China they are now revamped and promoted as a tourist attraction. They sit across the Huangpu River from the 21st Century face of Shanghai; Pudong with its dramatic modern
skyline.
We drive down the Bund and beyond until we come to the enormous Nanpu Bridge, which we ascend on a spiralling slip road at speed, the wind racing through our hair, before hurtling across the river with its fabulous views in both directions. To be honest, an open top double-decker, 100m high bridge, twisting road and high winds turn our sedate adventure into a turbo-charged rollercoaster experience which neither of us were expecting.
Once we're safely down the other side we drive through Pudong, the financial district, populated by enormous skyscrapers and Shanghai's iconic Oriental Pearl TV Tower. 20 years ago this was all just open marshland, now it's home to 12,000 skyscrapers and an annual GDP that out performs many nations, just in this one district of Shanghai alone. The pace of Chinese expansion is evident all around. The world is changing fast and there's no doubt at all that we will all be turning East very, very soon. It's unstoppable...
We don't head up the Oriental Pearl instead opting for the Jin Mao Observation Tower, which sits atop the Grand Hyatt, the highest five-star hotel in the world, occupying the 53rd to 86th Floors including the famous Cloud Nine bar. We take the fast lift to the top which hurtles upwards at nine metres a second making our ears pop and taking us from the ground floor to the 88th floor in less than ten seconds. The views from here are breathtaking, stretching for miles and miles in all directions, the river snaking through an endless city sprawl.
A separate lift takes us into the atrium of the Grand Hyatt to have a gawp at its deeply impressive interior before we head outside to wait for the tour bus in the hot sun. And wait. And wait some more. Just as we're about to hire a cab it arrives and takes us back across the river, but we have to change buses again. Rather than endure another long wait we spy a taxi and grab it, pointing to the Yu Gardens on the map.
We're dropped on a random roadside with no hope of ever finding our way to the Big Bus Company stop so we'll have to hail taxis from now on. Fortunately they're plentiful and cheap and I have a map with English and Chinese place names on, so a bit of pointing and general exclamations gets us around the city unscathed.
The tourist area of Yu Gardens seems much more like a big, modernised version of an old Chinese city - hundreds of shops and stalls crammed into windy streets and attractive pagoda style buildings. We're approached continually by street traders trying to sell "watches, ipods, ipads" all at ridiculously cheap prices. But right now all we want is some food.
We find a fabulous looking dim sum place and go inside. There are pictures on the menus and photos of the dishes on the walls, but the Chinese characters are impenetrable and sadly none of the staff seem in the least bit interested in talking to us, helping us or attempting to take our order. We're also unable to tell what's actually in any of the dishes so feeling more alien than ever we throw ourselves once more on the grenade of fast food and enter Dicos Chicken opposite for a chicken burger and fries. Oh for the delights of Peking duck, or some dainty dim sum, jasmine smoked pork ribs or beef in oyster sauce!
Duly fortified with additives, salt and fat, all washed down with diet coke of course, we force our way through the throng into the central plaza, which would be beautiful if it was empty, featuring an ornamental pond full of carp, a pretty bridge and various traditional style Chinese buildings. It is however rammed to capacity. We elbow our way through, and across the other side of the pond I finally spy the entrance to the inner Yuyuan Gardens themselves.
Having read about them on the plane, attempted to bring the band here yesterday and chosen the bus trip because it takes in this sight, I am by now determined that we'll see these damn tranquil bloody gardens if it kills me. With women and children flying as I force my way through I lead Alex over to the gate, pay the entrance fee and all of a sudden we're inside.
It's magical. The din and clamour outside fades instantly away as we potter around palaces and gardens that have remained here at the heart of old Shanghai as the city has been transformed around it. Built in the reign of Ming Emperor Jiajing in 1559 as a private garden for the ruler of the Sichuan province it includes the Hall of the Emerald Torch, the Tower of Happiness and, erm, the Hall of Mildness. Peaceful, gorgeous and relaxing it's the perfect place to spend some time just chilling out and so we wander around snapping pics as we go, feeling the stress ebb away. Momentarily...
Back in the real world we venture into souvenir shops to pick up some gifts and then hail a taxi over to the Nanjing Road, a pedestrianised version of Oxford Street where John has spent the day. And all of a sudden there he is, walking towards us out of nowhere laden down with shopping bags and with a big grin on his face.
He tells us of his day haggling for a fake Rolex which looks utterly identical (£10, as opposed to £3,500), an iPad for £60, trainers, DVDs, gifts for his kids and more. He's delighted with his cut-price haul but is heading back to the hotel before joining us on a river cruise in two hours.
By now it's 6.30 and as dusk starts falling Alex and I find a bar and sit back to watch the world go by and the neon signs start to transform the street scene from day to night. It's great to just take a bit of time doing nothing and reflecting on the crazy few days we've had in China. We shoot the breeze over a couple of beers before getting up to leave. Within moments two young women start talking to us and trying to play with Alex's hair.
Aware from my handy little guidebook that the biggest scam in Shanghai is being befriended by girls who take you to a nearby teashop and chat to you, before you're royally fleeced by some big Triad bouncer, I'm having none of it. "We're not interested, please go away."
"Why you so sad?" asks one of them, coquettishly thrusting her breasts at me. "You no want to have fun with us?"
I can't be arsed with this and in an unusual flash of steel respond so firmly, and with such expletive certainty, that they both scurry off tails between their legs. Alex looks impressed. "Well, they were wasting their time as much as ours," I say. "We weren't going to have tea with them and they're barking right up the wrong tree if they think I'm gonna sleep with 'em!"
Time to meet John for our river trip. Excitingly, the boat appears to have a dining room and be equipped for upscale entertaining so we grab a table anticipating being able to eat a decent meal as we cruise along the river. However we have to make do with a liquid dinner as it seems only the bar is open. This food lark isn't going very well.
And neither is the concept of first come, first served. Every time we walk outside to take a photo, despite leaving all our belongings at our table and standing just the other side of the window from it, Chinese people move in. Our backs can be turned for just ten seconds and an entire family will be happily swarming over our seats as if we had never been there. It's quite disturbing.
We disembark at 10pm and try to find a great local restaurant. I've identified several in the French Concession which is renowned for its restaurant quarter and we're well up for splashing some cash and having a fantastic farewell repast. But a passing local who sees us with a map tells us that all the restaurants will be closed, as the Chinese like to eat early. This is crazy. We just want some edible food but we wander the streets for almost an hour until we find the one open restaurant - McDonalds. I've not set foot in one for years but needs must and in we go.
It's the final culinary indignity. I've eaten more fast food in the past three days than I have in the last year and have put on at least half a stone since I left for NYC. Elasticated waistbands will soon be needed! And I've not had a single decent dish of Chinese cuisine, of any regional variety, since I got here. Considering Shanghai has a reputation for high end cuisine, and I was looking forward to wall-to-wall Hakkasan at a tenth of the price, I feel utterly defeated. At least my McDonalds beef wrap tastes somewhat local if a little odd.
We get back to the hotel at midnight and fortunately the lift is working again but not our room keys so Alex and I return to the front desk, bumping into Peter Murphy and his band as we exit the elevator. They're staying in this place too, having also played at the Mao Livehouse. The promoter doesn't miss a trick!
It's time for bed but still only mid-afternoon back in the UK so I take the chance to get on with some work putting the final touches to a trip to Lisbon with Smashing Pumpkins this weekend which has recently been confirmed.
I'm not sure I can face another trip so soon; I'll only be home three days before setting off again. So I get the travel team to cost up taking Coman with me and spending a day or two's holiday there afterwards, which means that we will actually get to see each other. It's all very well flying round the world but it's a lot more fun if he's with me. And by the time I finish in Lisbon I'll have worked 20 days straight so a couple of days chilling with Coman seems well earned.
At least this time I hope the food will be good!!
