Shanghai – 1^stJune 2018

‘Shanghai began life as a fishing village in the 11^thcentury, but by the end of the first Opium war it had become one of the five newly opened treaty ports, a factor that saw it grow into one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the region. Here was a city filled with cabarets and ballrooms, fine shops and satirical newspapers, steeped in the cultural influences and traditions of Asians, Jews, Russians and Europeans. Little wonder it was dubbed at the time, the Paris of the Orient’.

Our group tour ended in Shanghai.

Frank led us on an orienteering trip to Nanjing road, stopping for lunch en route. ‘You eat here,’ he said, leaving us in a rather nice restaurant, ‘I will come back at 2.30.’  When he did, we asked him if was going to eat at all. ‘Oh, I ate already, my favourite, I ate two duck heads. Very good, brains, eyes, skin, but I leave the beak.’ I’m glad he chose to eat alone.

As a celebration Frank had got us tickets for the traditional acrobat show. For two hours we sat on the edge of our seats as we watched contortionists turn themselves inside out and do death-defying human pyramid acts. The highlight was a circular wall of death, involving eight motorcyclists whizzing around in figures of eight inside a spherical cage.

The next morning, for the last time, we went exploring. Marcus and Martin joined John and me on the Metro, the lads eyeing the girls, ‘She smiled at me,’ and the cars, ‘That was another Ferrari that passed.’

We got lost in the labyrinth of streets in the old city and  found the Yuyuan Garden. It was commissioned by a Ming dynasty mandarin and is famous for its classical landscaping and architecture. We snapped dragons and carp and pretty girls.

I tried to imagine my hero Ximin Qing and Pan Jin Lian (from the Golden Lotus) sipping tea in front of the Hall of One Hundred Thousand Flowers. It all came alive  for me, standing beside a 400 year old gingko tree.

I bought two beautiful gemmed hairpins and imagined a concubine taking them from her hair and presenting them to an admirer, who would discreetly hide them in the sleeves of his flowing gown.

My own locks had been snipped the previous day by Sam from Peter’s Salon in the New World Mall. I had enquired from Dagmar in the Fairmont or Peace Hotel, where I could get my hair cut and so followed the above directions and was duly snipped. No hairpins for me!

We left old Shanghai and whizzed to the French Quarter in Xintiandi.

This area is very smart and upscale and a household name around China for anyone aspiring to wealth. We and our friends drank beer: ‘Wow! Another Ferrari, is that a Maserati?’ Sip sip, ‘I think she smiled at me!’

Next on the list was the house where Mao Zedong and his fellow conspirators founded the Communist Party.

Surprisingly, it was very interesting. There were portraits of intelligent men, with much reason to seek change, and a copy of Karl Marx’s book ‘The Communist Manifesto’ translated into Chinese.

That night we all ate together for a farewell group dinner.

Frank made a speech, Gill made a speech, and then we all went to The Bund to see the lights of the city.

The problem was that nearly half of China’s population had the same intention. We got separated from the group, we walked up and down. Thousands of people, police controlling, swaggering, trying to keep order, then suddenly out of all the mayhem we saw the familiar face of Judith. So we walked back to the hotel together and said goodbye. The rest of the group just drifted away. Early morning flights meant that we didn’t see anyone from the group again. For three weeks we had all lived in such close proximity, then suddenly they were all gone.

John and I moved hotels and sampled the delights of five stars. Oh my, it was so plush – the pillows, the sheets and the amazing showers. Yet when we were travelling and lying on some very uncomfortable beds, I didn’t really give it a thought. Good to enjoy though!

We returned to Nanjing Road and The Bund by daylight and visited the People’s Park. We saw another dating agency set up with advertisements displayed on a crazy assortment of umbrellas. Just like in Chengdu.

We revisited the Fairmont or Peace Hotel with its impressive art-deco lobby. (No sign of Dagmar. I wanted to show her my new haircut).

This hotel, once called the Cathay Hotel (1929), is where Charlie Chaplin visited, where Noel Coward wrote ‘Private Lives’and where Steven Spielberg filmed scenes for ‘Empire in the Sun’.

We watched the hotel’s Jazz Band playing for afternoon tea; many of the players are in their late 80s and some in their 90s. We took the lift up to the River Top Terrace and viewed the mere mortals rushing along way down below on the street. So elegant to sip a Moscow Mule in the cool and live for a moment, ‘The life of Erchie’.

We arrived back in Beijing yesterday and booked into another very nice hotel in the Wangfujing area. We wandered out in the afternoon, when suddenly I was accosted by a lady with a Bo Peep style hat. ‘You got beautiful eyes, I like the way you paint them, I learn English, my teacher Robert from London said I must speak to learn. I am an Art Teacher, you come with me to see my art exhibition of my students’ work, come now, it is closing soon – it’s the last day, it’s in the Foreign Language book shop.’ She might have drawn breath – but I’m not sure when. Robert from London had done a good job!

The paintings were beautiful, water colours on rice paper, framed in silk. And yes, we bought two of hers and picture of a hutong in winter by one of her students. John casually admired a blue and white bowl. ‘You like? I ring my friend, see how much.’ I had visions of John arriving home with a chamber pot on his head. She was a persuasive lady, a Buddhist, ‘Please don’t take photo of me.’  A pity, for she was fetching in her school-marm way.

We left her and wandered down the street and came to an ornate archway.

Stepping through we said goodbye to the glitzy modern shopping centres with their iced drinks and brand names. We entered a world of colour, and a relic of old Beijing. We were confronted with stalls and stalls of street food with a difference. Writhing scorpions on sticks, snake kebabs, centipede kebabs, grilled sparrows, barbecued ducks, grasshoppers, sea horses and starfish.

It was like a horror show. I know they are supposed to be full of protein, I know they may be delicious, but I just recoiled at the sight.

Peking Opera masks leered at us,  hawkers beckoned us to buy their terracotta warriors and souvenir tat, and we just walked about taking it all in. There were pearls, and necklaces of gold and precious stones, silks, fans and plastic toys.

Eventually we succumbed. One man had a huge basin full of beads. They were like marbles and perfect, and all the colours glinted. They were semi-precious stones. He tipped handfuls of them through his fingers, like a colourful waterfall. We selected green agate and our man strung them into a bracelet. Apparently I am now protected against high blood pressure and kidney stones, good to know, for I now have a lovely bracelet for £4!

Walking back to the hotel we wandered off the wide pavement and into a quiet hutong. It brought back memories of the Far East Hotel where we stayed with the group when we first arrived in Beijing. I saw a street vendor making pancakes, rather like the ones we saw being made in Chongqing. This guy obviously knew the recipe, as he  spread the eggs and the char sieu pork, sprinkled onions and coriander, then parcelled it up and chopped it all with a cleaver and popped it into a carton with a giant toothpick. Dinner for a pound. Oh my! – It was good, if a little hot. Next time a little less chilli!

5^thMay

And now I am sipping fabulous Chinese tea, made from mangostene pips ( I think).

The temperature outside is 39C and we have just found a local supermarket, Wu Mart. Now we are all stocked up with pot noodles, oranges, nuts, sweets and bananas.

Tomorrow a new adventure begins. The train journey to Ulan Bataar in Outer Mongolia. Once I wanted to work there, but was sent instead to Hanoi in Vietnam.

Now, at last, I am making a journey that I have wanted to do for such a long time.

And so – farewell to amazing, beautiful, diverse China, with your clean streets, your friendly, kindly people and your fantastic countryside. I will leave with so many pictures in my head, of gossipy grannies, old men with their birdcages, beautiful children and people just getting on with their lives and their families. Eating, chattering, buying and preparing food, and everyone, everywhere totally absorbed with their mobile phones!

Our tickets are here, our Trans-Mongolian-Siberian journey awaits.