The ghosts of China past

Now, Gin Tonic might be pleasant enough, but it's not on anybody tourist map. It might be a couple of thousand years old or so, but that's not exactly obvious. Most of it is a nondescript mass of cement and glass.
Unless you end up in the old town. I mentioned the old town before, I think, it's a couple of streets with traditional-ish houses and a flea market for all your perforated coin, Confucius statuettes and Mao paraphernalia needs.. But recently, in much nicer weather and a little more knowlege of the turf, I found there are some real hidden gems. The old town conceals some more street of very nicely kept (or fixed) old houses which have nothing to envy from the likes of Shaoxin. They organized as informal museums of sorts, with themes more or less deliberately chosen. Funnily enough, it feels a bit like Pompei, but a Pompei in which people still come and go and do stuff.

 This is the courtyard of the calligrapher's house. The house itself is some kind of calligraphy museum, with one of the masters there drinking tea and eating, and his wife trying to sell you his works.
 
Here's the calligrapy master and his acolytes in action.

This is the innter courtyard of the ghost's house. I call it the ghost's house because it's inhabited by a noble-looking fellow who habits one room where he has traditional furnitre and a flat screen tv. He seems like a kind of genie of the place. There was also a rooster in the garden, he didn't seem very happy to have visitors.

The door to another house. This was all about ceramic, if I remember correctly.

Marco's Paradise

It seems that Marco Polo thought Hangzhou was paradise  and you can see why. The misty lake, the graceful bridges, the greenery. This is Real Chinese Stuff (tm) as you can see from my present banner pic. Looks right out of a Chinese dish, right?

However, as is often the case, there is trouble in Paradise. The weather was crappy for one thing. It did add some kind of misty poetic dimension to the sights, but running around being a tourist is generally nicer when it's sunny and dry.

And then the taxi drivers. Those belong right into hell.

The first, driving us from the station to the hotel, managed to misread a street name in pynin, attempt to drop us in the middle of nowhere, then finally drove us back to the other side of the city. Another was apparently unable to read an address-in Chinese this time- and reacted by yelling. Note to Chinese people: if a foreigner doesn't get what you're saying it's because they can't speak Chinese, not because they're deaf. Raising your voice won't help. Finally, there was the surreal spectacle of seeing taxi after empty taxi not stopping by. This is one of the great mysteries of China, one of those things that are literally unexplainable (as in, you seek possible explainations, but find none that makes sense).

Apart from the taxi misfortunes, Hangzhou is a treasure chest of a city, and, if you excuse the mixed metaphor, I think I saw only the tip of the iceberg. Another place I hope to go back to, and stay smack in the middle of the city so I can avoid taxis like plague (either that, or acquire a deep knowledge of Hangzhou's public transportation network). Anyway, sights included:

Silk Street. Hangzhou is famous for its silk. It's nice, but a bit touristy. I got a cute, wearable cotton Mandarin dress, but once again the hues of the scarves look weird and unbecoming on me.

This West Lake. It looks like something out of a dream. There's an island in which there are smaller lakes (but no islands on said smaller lakes).

Hangzhou is also famous for its Dragon Well green tea. This is the tea museum, which is a massive tea field with some explainatory stuff in a building on the side. Again like something out of a dream.

A temple, which is the tomb of General Yue Fei, big national hero and model of filial piety:

And this is just a small part of what I saw, and an even smaller part of what there is to see.

Shangaied!

The week end before the last, I made my way to Shanghai, where I'd set foot before only when I got off the plane, to be whisked off immediately to my present location. Feeling like a country bumpkin, I made my way to the city of sin in a train absolutely crammed with people of all ages, eating, drinking and moving around.

The city turned out to be all what I expected--and more. What was striking is how European the city feels. You might think it makes sense, it was more or less created by and for Westerners after all, but the time of the concessions is over and done. So I was expecting a jumble of skyscapers and bright neon lights, à la Tokyo. There is a bit of that, but there is also a lot that feels, well, Mediterranean. Maybe it's because it's a harbour city? It feels like a city by the sea, though *technically* it's not one.

This is part of the "old town." You can imagine there were a lot more of this kind of little streets, before getting torn down. It feels poor, popular but oh-so-charming.

View of the Bund, with the old-style Western architecture.

The French concession-or Shanghai as you imagined it.

Other perks included a yue show, that is, a kind of opera that developed in Shanghai with women-only troupes (shame I had no frickin' clue what was going on), and the Shanghai Museum, or Everything You Ever Wanted to Know about China and Didn't Think You Could Ask.

I am officially in love with Shanghai. It might not be the most pretty-pretty place on earth but it's sophisticated and multilayered and has that big-city feel I miss. I hope the future holds many more escapades there!

Best Western hotels and vegetable markets

As I inch every so slightly into Chinese life, I've discovered another side of it. There is some semblance of night life in Ginseng, very clearly catered at foreigners.
The city boasts a Best Western hotel and stepping inside is tantamount to entering another world. It's bright and shiny, with chinoiserie type decorations on the walls and a bar run by an Italian, complete with bresaola snacks and pizzas. Enough to make you feel awkward and already too "sinified" if you're wearing all your clothes in layers and pale pink plastic rainboots. I was underwhelmed by the pizza, which maybe wasn't made by the maestro himself, though my digestive system must have been delighted with flour and dairy. I also went to a bar, where they serve, you know, drinks, and had a decent glass of Australian red. The unpleasant thing is that everyone smokes inside, and coming home with my hair and clothes reeking of cigarettes is something I haven't done for the past ten years.

In other news, I have an induction stove! So I can make my own food now! Problem is, I don't know how to make Chinese food. I got some of those noodles you're supposed to boil and then stir fry with vegetable or whatever, but that involved scraping part of them off the wok. And getting pasta would require a hike downtown, where for the time being I'm too chicken to go by myself (and having to get a friend just to buy groceries is potentially a hassle). But attempting to cook means I've ventured to the market. I think I've never seen so many vegetables in one place. There's still a lot of exploration to do (they also sell meat) since I've limited myself to asparagus (which had some Japanese writing on the elastic, for some reason. Interesting) and broccoli, stuff I'm familiar with and doesn't take too much time to prepare.

I'm also starting Chinese classes next week! So excited! Hopefully it will make daily life easier.