Cape to Milan

Making my towards the place where I was working, I decided to stop off for a night in Hangzhou.

Hangzhou (pronounced “Hong-Joe”) is a great example of a huge city that, in almost any other country, would be pretty well-known globally. But in a huge county like China, Hangzhou doesn’t really stand out.

With about 7 million people, Hangzhou is often the destination for jobs and industries that have been priced out of booming Shanghai. It’s far more working class and less international (read: basically nobody speaks any English).

Hangzhou’s city center is clean and pleasant, if lacking in character.

Shops in the center of town.

Hangzhou felt a bit isolating to this foreigner. I’ve been to plenty of places where I don’t speak the language, but normally I have some clue as to what a particular business sells at a glance. No so in China. The success rate for a business actually selling something you want is vanishingly small.

One neat thing about Hangzhou is the prevalence of biking.

Bikers and mopeds have their own little road network, which is actually a bit scary to deal with as a pedestrian!

A market across the street from my hotel.

The meat section was a bit much, I must say.

After wandering around and grabbing some lunch, I hopped on a bus to Hangzhou’s premier tourist attraction: West Lake.

The lake abuts the city’s downtown and is ringed on three sides with pagoda-topped hills. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site–in other words, a pretty big deal.

I’m sure it would have been lovely if I could actually have seen it. Instead, a haze reminiscent of Lake Tana in Ethiopia shrouded everything.

Given the lack of sweeping vistas the lake is known for, I had to mainly just enjoy the ambiance.

I was still on the tail end of the Chinese New Year holiday and thus the place was mobbed by Chinese tourists. A nice enough place to walk around, but given the fog and crowds I decided it might be more pleasant to head up the nearest hill and try to stumble upon some temples and pagodas.

Stumbling upon stuff is more of a necessity than a choice. These signposts don’t really throw foreigners a bone (although occasionally a fork in the road would have an English sign, too).

The lower part of the trail had a bunch of stalls selling basic stuff. No hassle whatsoever, in stark contrast to so many places we have visited before. There was an exotic quality to the place that made these among the better knick-knack and  snack stalls I’ve seen.

The first pagoda comes into view, in the upper right.

The pagoda was fenced-off and thus not quite so stimulating. Sort of a “Well, I guess this is it!” kind of place.

Most of the interest to me was just wandering around in the picturesque hill, which definitely has an enchanting feel in the haze.

I noticed, eventually, that lots of signposts were pointing towards the Baopu Taoist Temple, so I decided it must be worth seeing. After another period of wandering around on the mountain, I finally found it:

Built into a limestone hillside and only reachable by foot, this was much more worth the hike than the pagoda (although less-visited).

I took a few minutes to wander around and enjoy the distinctive Chinese architecture.

The place is very old, like lots of stuff in China. But despite being very old, nothing in China seems to be tied to an exact date: this was originally built about 1,000-1,500 years ago and rebuilt roughly 400-600 years ago. So, yeah, we’ll just say the temple is old and leave it at that.

No photography was allowed inside the temple, and I decided to respect the rule (I find the more unfamiliar I am with the culture, the more likely I am to obey “no photography” signs). But the outside was very pleasant.

Unfortunately, as I was wandering around it started to rain. Being a 20 minute walk from the road with just a mediocre rain jacket, I found the rain worrying enough that I didn’t linger long at the temple. The rain was pretty light, although it has the tendency to get bad and stay that way for hours; I didn’t want to risk it.

Once at the road, I realized I was in a predicament. The throngs of tourists were also worrying about the rain, and scrambling to get any sort of transport they could. Buses, taxis–everything was completely jam-packed going in the direction of downtown, and that was before they arrived at the hordes of which I was a part.

I just decided to walk back to the city center in the rain and grab a bus to my hotel from there.

One thing that started to settle in during my time in Hangzhou was the reality of Chinese food. Shanghai was pretty westernized and thus not so bad; Hangzhou was much more difficult to navigate as a foreigner.

My first meal in Hangzhou was this beef (I think) in a zesty sauce. I could do without the bones, but it was actually pretty good. I just went into a restaurant and pointed at something someone else was having; this “hot pot” was given to me.

The second place I went was another matter entirely. I walked for at least half an hour, going in all different directions from the hotel until I would lose hope and chose another direction (I was quite tired of walking by this point), and finally stumbled upon a quasi-modern looking place with a chicken in its logo, a sign in English that said “Over 100 Locations in China”, and mainly a younger clientele inside. I figured this must be something passable.

Not so. Basically you are given a bowl of semi-murky water that is brought to a boil, then they bring a raw whole chicken that has been (rather crudely) chopped into bits and dump it in the water. Then you order vegetables and they bring them to you and you cook them yourself in the boiling chicken-mixture.

The vegetables were the only part I really found edible. The chicken was extremely difficult to eat (I’m not talking about drumsticks and breasts, folks), and completely without flavor. And seeing the chicken feet float around in the soup wasn’t very appealing. Some people I asked later about it told me they should have brought seasoning for me to add to the chicken-mixture; but alas, they did not.

I left wishing I had just stopped at one of the many KFCs around town.

My last post probably gave the impression that Shanghai is a glitzy, modern place. But, on the whole, that’s just not true. These pictures are more typical of Shanghai:

The fruit vendors contend even with the Albanians in terms of fruit selection.

Just a couple blocks away from the relentless modernity of Nanjing Road, historic buildings function as basic housing.

A typical street in Shanghai.

Even where the city isn’t attractive, it’s never dirty. Streets are kept meticulously clean of trash. At one point, I was walking along the street and the shell of a nut caught my attention for some reason. As I looked at it, a trash picker came into view and snatched the shell before my eyes. Can you spot even one piece of trash on the ground in any of these pictures?

Shanghai’s millions of migrant workers live in tenements like these, which can be accessed only by networks of alleyways.

These gleaming skyscrapers are just blocks from such tenements. It’s easy to get the feeling that the days are numbered for many of these tenement districts.

To me, these areas were the most interesting and unique places to wander around in the city. China isn’t like Latin America, where each house is a mini-fortress, protecting against the brutal culture of violent crime that has developed there. Houses are less closed off here, and interesting scenes seem to be around every corner.

I spent a couple hours wandering around Shanghai’s (free) history museum. The collection of artifacts from Chinese history is simply incredible.

What impressed me the most about the museum was the age of everything.

For instance, this carving is 2,000 years old! Everything–whether pottery, currency, furniture, you name it–was far older than I would have expected. That speaks to China’s extremely rich and long history, I suppose.

China may be a culture with a long and storied history, but you wouldn’t guess it from the architecture throughout Shanghai. There isn’t much in the way of traditional Chinese buildings. And, as I said in the last post, most of the old architecture in the central parts of town is European-built and -styled: not the sort of thing that speaks highly of Chinese history.

Much of the historic architecture in Shanghai has gone the way of the wrecking ball over the generations.

There are some notable exceptions, however. This was a lookout post on part of the old city’s network of fortifications. Now, it’s the only part of the walls that remains.

The traditional architecture contrasts with the glass skyscrapers all around (and with ever more under construction). I was firmly off the gringo trail at this point (read: no information whatsoever was in English), so I can’t offer too much in the way of detail.

Inside the building it feels like a different world from the hustle and bustle outside. Especially since the 5 yuan entry fee holds the flow of visitors to a bare minimum.

The most impressive collection of historic architecture in Sanghai, by far, is Yuyuan Garden, which has buildings dating back hundreds of years.

I didn’t see the gardens themselves, which are accessed via this horrendously crowded footbridge. I went during the end of the Chinese New Year holiday, and Chinese tourists mobbed everything.

The historic city adjoining the gardens has been converted into a massive shopping center. Walking around was immensely difficult.

I’m sure my head was poking up awkwardly in the background of at least a thousand pictures.

The area lit up at night.

A market street near Yuyuan, which bustles into the night.

The area also has a thriving street food scene–among the best I’ve ever seen. Comparable to Leon, except in China a lot more stuff falls into the “extremely weird” category. (For the record, the squids-on-a-stick silhouetted in this picture definitely DON’T fall into that category, and were absolutely delicious.)

I was breaking every rule in the book for preventing sickness in China when I ate here. Although I did pass on the oysters–I’d prefer for my souvenirs be tangible objects, rather than stomach bugs.

My first stop in China was the country’s largest and most resilient city: Shanghai.

Shanghai is characterized mainly by the dramatic rate of change the city has undergone in the past couple decades.

Nowhere is Shanghai’s unreal rate of change more evident than in Pudong, the new part of the city. The eastern bank of the Huangpu River was, until the early 1990s, connected to Shanghai only by ferry, and thus sparsely populated and agricultural. Since its development was allowed, it has grown into one of the world’s most magnificent and modern skylines.

Pudong lacks anything of much historical or cultural interest, but that’s no bother. You can wander around for hours marveling at all the unbelievable stuff they’ve built. Like this: the Shanghai World Financial Center is the fourth-tallest building in the world at the time of writing, and the tallest in mainland China.

The hazy view from the top of the WFC.

Next door, Shanghai Tower, on the right, likely be the second-tallest building on the planet when it’s completed.

Down at street level, the IFC Shopping Mall is, without a doubt, the richest I have seen in my life. Every solitary storefront was a high-end designer.

Pudong is only one manifestation of Shanghai’s emergence as a world city. Shanghai is climbing the charts in every conceivable way. Shanghai is the world’s busiest container port, and nearby Ningbo is the sixth busiest. As I said earlier, Shanghai’s twenty-year-old metro system is the fifth busiest in the world. It’s airport system is ninth busiest. All are growing dramatically.

The breakneck growth in Pudong’s skyline has made The Bund–the main riverfront drag on the old side of the river–into a world-famous tourist attraction.

The Pudong skyline at night, viewed from the Bund.

The Bund is probably the most photographed place I’ve ever seen. It’s almost obnoxious: everywhere you step you’re crossing into someone’s picture. Simply walking up to the railing can be a chore.

The Bund is lined with historic buildings, which mainly served as international banks during Shanghai’s heyday prior to China’s communist revolution. The architecture actually reminded me a lot of commercial buildings you see in old parts of American cities: very grey and substantial-looking. Except here, Chinese flags fly atop every spire.

The historic buildings of the Bund light up nightly.

In front of this building stands a particularly photogenic bull, modeled after the bull on Wall Street. You can read all about the wacky symbolism and background of this particular statue here.

Nanjing Road used to be the city’s premier shopping street. Pudong clearly carries the torch now with regard to high-end shopping, but Nanjing Road retains a Times Square-like feel.

The scammers lurk on Nanjing Road in greater numbers than I have seen anywhere. The typical scam involves an invitation to a tea house or coffee shop by a friendly youth who wants to practice English. The bill will end up higher than expected by an order of magnitude. As a lone guy, I guy plenty of attention from these types. Their robotic knowledge of American sports was particularly amusing–“Atlanta? You must like the…Hawks!”. Me: “Umm…”

Also, there was no shortage of people asking if I want a “massage”.

Nanjing Road’s impressive neon lights.

China’s notorious counterfeiting culture rears its head on Nanjing Road.

As you go further away from the Bund on Nanjing Road, you reach People’s Park–a wonderful oasis in the middle of the urban grind.

People’s Park, brought to you by Samsung.

Whatever your opinion on China’s recent fling with state capitalism, you’ve gotta admit: the Chinese children have more sophisticated park diversions than the Cuban children do.

Maybe there is something to this whole BRICs hullabaloo. About six months ago, work took me to Brazil. Just recently, it took me to my second BRIC country: China.

Although most of my time was spent working, I had a few days left over to enjoy myself. Given that I was there for work, my enjoyment was unfortunately tempered by Caroline’s absence.

In a place like Boston or even Brazil, traveling alone isn’t so bad. Even if you can’t communicate with people, at least you feel some sense of cultural familiarity and belonging.

Not so in China. I’d put China on the level of Ethiopia or Egypt in terms of feeling exotic and removed from Western culture–especially once you’re outside of Shanghai. Definitely a place where traveling alone is a lot less fun.

For starters, a trip to China would definitely be enhanced by having someone to laugh with about the plethora of bizarre things you see.

Such as this interesting relationship advice on a restaurant menu.

Or these bewildering menu translations.

The dining situation in China as a whole isn’t particularly good for foreigners. This stand with mounds of fried food in the Hangzhou train station looked like a legitimate option from afar. Up close, not so much.

Or these attractive-looking meatball dishes advertised outside of the food court of a bus station. Nothing this Western-friendly was in evidence once you get inside (instead, “smelly tofu” abounds).

These are the sorts of situations that are much easier when you have someone to laugh with.

Despite the difficulty and loneliness of travel in China, it’s definitely a fascinating place. The things you see one a day-to-day basis are incredible.

Take, for instance, China’s recently well-publicized construction boom. It is indeed jaw-dropping. I saw this random housing development while riding the high speed train from Shanghai to Hangzhou. The location didn’t seem particularly desirable–roughly 50 miles away from any major city. But for some reason a housing development on an unthinkable scale is under construction here.

And it appears to be no aberration. This similar construction project is between Hangzhou and Ningbo, again miles away from any major city.

These are just the two projects that I was able to take a reasonably good picture of. Construction on a scale similar to this is everywhere. Cranes hover above every skyline.

The thing that impressed me most about China was the investment in infrastructure. Simply put, China’s infrastructure, at least in the large coastal cities, rivals anything we have here in the States. This maglev train, for instance, whisks passengers back and forth between the airport and the city at up to 430 km/hr.

China’s urban roadways are up to first world standards. Heck, maybe even better.

We’ve shown plenty of train station pictures on this blog. But none anywhere near as impressive as Shanghai’s brand-new Hongqiao Railway Station. It is truly a marvel: a four-level layout that has departures on top, the train tracks below them, the arrivals hall and ticketing below that, and the metro tracks on the bottom floor. The whole complex is attached to Shanghai’s secondary airport. The US has nothing remotely like it.

Shanghai’s metro, still in its second decade of operations, is already among the busiest in the world. It has surpassed New York, and is expanding so rapidly that I could easily see it being the world’s busiest within a few years. It’s adding about 20 stations per year. Also, with fares under a buck and useful English translations, it’s definitely the best way to get around town.

Pudong, Shanghai’s main airport.

Western brands, clamoring for a piece of China’s booming consumer economy, are a fixture in modern China. This Apple store in Shanghai was absolutely mobbed.

In China, brands have a chance to reinvent themselves a start anew. Lays, for instance, apparently sells packaged french fries.

The Super 8 Motel upgrades itself to the Super 8 Hotel in China.

As an aside, I just don’t see how any of these mega-investments in hotels could be making any money. I stayed in a Holiday Inn–much nicer than a Holiday Inn in the States–for $60 a night. A five-star Sheraton was $105. Contrast that with Brazil, where finding business-standard accommodation under $100 is nigh impossible.

By the way, I must admit my picture quality through this series of posts will be lacking. I couldn’t really help it: China just about always seemed to be shrouded in haze while I was there. I know China already has a reputation for being a hazy place, and these next few blog entires will do nothing to change that image.

Next up: Shanghai.