The date had been circled in bright red on our The Simpsons calendar hanging in our kitchen by our fridge. I was busy making my breakfast at 6am hardly believing that two of some of my closest friends from London were actually arriving in less than two hours’ time in Shanghai. Antonia and Chantal, or ‘Chantonia’ is I had at first mistakenly called them once, have been in my life for over 20 years. Chantal I met when I moved to the UK to study my secondary education whilst my path crossed with Antonia during our first year at college.
I sat there in the quietness of the dawning day with my mind jumping from any number of memories that an entire TV series would have been necessary to dedicate just for the ‘Previously on…’ bits of our past episodes. I wouldn’t have described it as nerves, but there was a certain element of the unknown when I thought about our soon-to-happen reunion. After all, it had been more than three years since we last saw each other and admittedly, in the last 18 months our actual communication has been a bit sparse. It would also be the first time for them to meet Lezil – my wife.
 Waiting for our first glimpse of Antonia and Chantal in arrivals. | The clock was counting down minutes to the grand moment as we sped eastward on Shanghai’s ever-so-efficient metro system. We pulled into the terminal station at Pudong International Airport. The time 9:30am. The direct Virgin flight from London Heathrow was scheduled to arrive at 9:35am. Once we got to the main concourse where the big screen with flight information was, we realised the flight had arrived early. We bolted our way to the arrivals gate. I wanted it to be movie-perfect like catching a glimpse from beyond the security railings to the emotional-rich embrace of being reunited after a long hiatus.
Lezil and I stood anxiously leaning against the steel bars watching passengers drift by. I started to spot a few Brits come through which Lezil couldn’t understand how I could tell they were from the UK. And as if to prove my point, a couple of lads in their mid twenties paused right in front of us with the one saying to the other “Do you fink it’s alright to ‘ave a fag ‘ere?”. I just turned to Lezil with that 'you-see' look on my face.
| | Twenty minutes later and I spotted the familiar silhouettes of Antonia and Chantal walking through the frosted glass exit of arrivals. As they both walked around the exit path, Antonia belted a very foreign-sounding "Ni Hao!" much to the amusement of the two taxi drivers standing next to us. Lezil and I scurried to the other end where the passengers come out with Chantal being the first to receive my deadly bear hug. Antonia looked on in a moment of emotion and reactive laughter before I launched myself towards her for much of the same treatment. I felt ecstatic standing with them both in Shanghai and even more so, to be able to finally introduce them to Lezil.
|  The emotional reunion! |  Trying to squeeze in the suitcases into the back of a Shanghai taxi. | Being a national holiday week, we decided to catch the bus back into town as the traffic would be much lighter than usual. Plus it would give them the chance to see Shanghai from the outskirts, in. Throughout the 40 minutes journey we just talked and talked and talked. We pulled into Jing'an Temple bus terminal where we had to transfer for a short 10 minutes taxi ride to their hotel. Waving down a taxi, the game of suitcase tetris began. I was adamant on us all getting into one taxi (remember their luggage too!). The taxi's boot (or trunk) wasn't the most spacious and after 2 minutes of trying different angles it was obvious it wasn't going to shut.
| By this time the taxi driver came out to see what the holdup was. He motioned Chantal to simply overlap the suitcases. He then nonchalantly lowered the boot which wouldn't close because of the bulging mass within. He then got back in the driver's seat. Antonia and Chantal turned to me and I responded: "Welcome to Shanghai!". "But..." Antonia started. I cut her off saying: "Don't bother about the boot, this isn't London darling, this is how things work here. Now let's go."
And it was on that note that their 10 day adventure is Shanghai began.
Below is a selection of photos from the first six days. Call it Part One of when 'Chantonia Hit Shanghai'!
(Click to enlarge photos)
On Day One. After a 12 hour flight, Antonia and Chantal arrive blurry-eyed into Shanhai's Pudong International Airport.
 Meeting Lezil for the first time. |  We arrive at Jing'an Temple to grab a taxi. |  The taxi driver comes out to give us a hand fitting in the suitcases. |  Suitcases squeezed in and the boot semi-closed, we are off! | |  We arrive at their hotel for the 10 day Shanghai visit. | | Day One and Day Two. Dumping the suitcases at the hotel, we get stuck right in. On the agenda The Bund, Pudong and some live music.
 A hazy day at The Bund with Shanghai's fast-growing skyline in the background. |  We hit the fabric market where the ladies get measured up for tailored made jackets at rock-bottom prices. | |  Chantal eating her chips Shanghai-style, with chopsticks! | |  The ladies by the famed skyscrapers in Shanghai's Pudong area. |  Shanghai's Pearl TV Tower. |  Evening time and we meet up with some friends to eat Turkish food. |  After dinner, it was back to their hotel (Crowne Plaza) to catch the Filipino band in action called 'Voicexpander'. |  And soon, we are all up and dancing. |  The group enjoying some of the Pop sounds from the band. | |  Antonia with our friend Camille. | |  Soon enough, Lezil is called on stage to cover Adele's 'Someone Like You'. |  Even Camille gets in on the singing action dropping a reggae number. | Day Three and Four. Daytime was all about shopping and massages. In the evening, it was off to sample more of Shanghai's nightlife.
 Having a quick Italian meal before partying. |  We hit the Kee which is an exclusive private members club in downtown Shanghai. |  We are on our friend's DJ Cherokee's guest list. She spins the full spectrum of house music (soulful, funky, disco, tribal, etc...). |  Enjoying our expensive drinks in rather plush surroundings. |  With my beautiful wifey... :) |  Antonia soon catches the eye of a very rich (and very drunk!) Chinese businessman who tries to impress her with his moves!! | |  Our mate Deji also joins us. Group photo with DJ Cherokee in the centre. | | Day Five. It was all about the old town - Yu Yuan Garden.
 By the entrace to Yu Yuan. |  Random locals all line up to have photos taken with us! |  One of the back streets specialising in traditional kites. |  The main clothes street market of Yu Yuan. |  By the grand entrance for City God Temple in Yu Yuan. |  The main square at Yu Yuan. |  City God Temple. |  We grab a delicious dinner at one of our favourite Chinese Muslim restaurants - Yeli Xia Li. | Day Six. By far the most random afternoon! It was a hot and sticky day, so we opted for the leafy canopy over at Jing'an City park. It's quaint and a nice place to chill. At the weekends, (especially on Sundays) the creative lot (as I call them) are always out in force and that day was no exception.
First off, Lezil was coaxed into bellydancing with the locals. Then we got approached by a local drama student who interviewed us on camera about our thoughts on 'Cats' and 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Lastly, a local professor walked past, saw that we were foreigners and started chatting in English. Out came his violin and we soon had a crowd of people around us recording with their cell phones as we did renditions of 'Hey Jude', 'You Raise Me Up' and 'Jingle Bells' (in the middle of a sweltering summer heat!).
That's what I love about Shanghai. Absolutely ANYTHING can happen!
 By the large pond at Jing'an Park. |  A little trivia here. This was where Lezil and I had our first date way back in 2009! :) | |  Lezil joins the local dancers for a spot of belly dancing. | |  People look on as they 'shake their thangs'! |  Antonia being interviewed on her 'indepth' knowledge of the West End theatre scene!! |  Lezil singing with Professor 'Mr P'. |  Jingle Bells in the middle of a Shanghai summer...anything goes! | |  Enjoying an outdoor musical afternoon with Professor 'Mr P'. | |
 Arrving at the Argyle Hotel to celebrate Dragon Boat Festival food! | For the next three days, China basks in a national holiday that is Dragon Boat Festival. A number of folkloric stories surround the festivities with the most popular one being that of the Chinese poet Qu Yuan. It’s said that he was part of the Chu Royal House during the Zhou dynasty when the King at the time changed his allegiance to Qin Royal House and turned against the poet Qu. Consequently, in his desperation the poet decided to drown himself.
Being popular with the people, they all threw wrapped rice packets into the river so that the fish wouldn’t harm the poet but instead eat the floating food instead. So, it was with that setting we joined a few friends at the Argyle International Airport Hotel in Shanghai to try a hand at making these so-called rice packets. Actually, the correct term is zongzi, or rice dumplings. The hotel’s marketing manager Maggie was on hand to settle us in, asking to wash our hands before we delved in with the food-making.
| | A Shanghainese lady who didn’t speak a word of English was on hand to show us the ropes. A large dining table in a private dining suit had been set up with all the raw ingredients laid out in industrial kitchen aluminium trays. Despite the obvious language barrier (well, at least for Lezil and I!) – our teacher soon had our hands full with two strips of large water reeds which we had to fold in half, curving at the same time to then create a small closed funnel in our left hand. By our end of the table, there was rice soaked in soy sauce and Chinese seasoning of which we lined the inside of our hand-held funnel-shaped reeds.
Next step was to place a strip of pork belly (again seasoned and drenched in soy sauce) and top it off with more rice. Then came the fun part – the actual packet making. The long left-over strips of reeds were tightly stretched over the top of the funnel with the sides pushed down, and the firmly wrapped to the sides.
|  Busy learning how to make rice dumplings. |  With our good friend Nicoleen tying up our rice dumplings. | Grabbing a bit of string, you bound the reeds with force to ensure that none of the inside contents would spill out. And voila! One meat rice dumpling complete. After a few rounds at the station, we swapped for the vegetarian version which comprised of white rice and red beans. This time we used bamboo leaves instead as these were smaller triangular versions of the pork ones.
| | Once you got a routine going, it was pretty easy going to churn out a good number of those rice dumplings after which one of the hotel’s chefs took them away for cooking which normally is done by boiling but also steaming. It takes around 1.5 hours to two hours to cook them fully. We had finished our culinary activity and the same dining table was cleaned up, with a table cloth on top and a nice spread of fresh fruit, salads, drinks, and (you guessed it) rice dumplings were all served for us to enjoy.
It was a fun way to spend an afternoon, in keeping with a historical Chinese tradition. Kudos to Maggie from the hotel for organising the event. |  Another fun friend of ours, Christina, eating a cooked rice dumpling. |  Celebrating Burundi culture at Café Connect. | Completely jumping cultures, not to mention an entire continent, the following afternoon it was the bi-monthly Café Connect gathering. As part of Shanghai Community Fellowship’s welcoming committee, the social event takes place after the 4pm Church service where people gather in the small chapel next door to not only socialise but be treated to some delicious eats and drinks. Over the last couple of months, a new running theme had been launched whereby each session now highlights the diversity of people who actually attend the Hengshan Road Church.
This week it was the turn of three African nations: Rwanda, Nigeria and Burundi. West African Gospel music played as people eagerly filtered in after the service. Two opposite rows of tables provided people the chance to sample not only more standard snacks but nibbles from the respective countries including a very flavoursome Nigerian ‘Akara’ or bean cake and the Jollof Rice (a spicy tomato based dish readily associated with West African cooking) which disappeared in no time.
| | I like my African prints and it just so happened that I had some Nigerian traditional clothes in Shanghai that were given to me by a close friend in London as a wedding gift. Yes, I became an honorary Naija with one Nigerian friend commenting that I carried myself like a royal chief. She joked to me, saying that I must fulfil my role as a strong leader by finding myself three additional wives alongside wifey number one, Lezil. Sounded like too much drama if you asked me!
With the rhythmic uplifting music playing, I could only marvel at how even in a place as far flung as China, the vibrancy of the African spirit can bring such unity and positivity. We are already preparing for Café Connect’s second African round which happens on Sunday 23rd June focusing on Zambia, Zimbabwe and the Waka Waka nation itself – South Africa! Lezil will be cooking up a storm for that one.
|  Call me a 'Naija'! (left to right) Christina, me, Deji and Nicoleen. | We got home an hour later to the mother of all surprises right on our door step. (‘Mother’ being the operative word here.) Walking up our winding steps to our third floor apartment and just as Lezil hit the final corner she jumped back in shock. Sprawled out by our front door was a cat that was clearly in beginnings of labour. The ginger mother-to-be was heaving heavily and was clearly in a lot of discomfort. I came up to join Lezil on our floor and, rather embarrassingly, the first thing that came out was “Not again!”.
 Help!! This cat is in labour. Meanwhile Winne (right) is more concerned with eating! | You see, we had already semi-adopted our street cat – Winnie – who pretty much appeared in the same way as a weak 2 month old kitten and two years later, he’s still with us , albeit roaming the streets all day and night. We didn’t know what to do. The cat wasn’t moving but just panting away and you could see that her tummy was contracting. The stench was pungent which we amateurishly diagnosed as her waters having been broken.
In a daze, I turned to Lezil and said to her that I was sure this was our next door fruit lady’s cat. With lightning speed I jumped down the stairs, two at a time, and ran the 10 street metres to her store. She was busy slurping her evening noodles and in my gargled Chinese and accompanying frantic sign language, I managed to get her to understand me. She swiftly followed me back up the stairs to the tiny hall by our apartment door.
| She rambled on in Shanghainese to me, of which I don’t understand a word of, so I asked her to switch to Putonghua (Mandarin) and got the gist of her saying “Zhe bu shi wo de mao” (this is not my cat). She then started to say that her cat is longer and has more white markings. How could this be? I was so sure it belonged to her. Apologising for mis-alerting her, she left us with this bulging pregnant non-moving feline helplessly lying at our feet. | Like a mad man, I scrolled through my phone to see who I knew was a ‘cat-person’. Bingo! Our Jamaican friend Liza (who I also happen to work alongside with at the Caribbean Association in China). She dished out the necessary advice which had Lezil running back to the fruit lady store to get a large box. I kept monitoring the cat. We got a soft green IKEA bath rug and lined the box with it. Seeing sense, the cat actually dragged itself onto the rug inside the box.
By this time, we had Lezil’s mum all the way in Australia coaching us on what to expect over the next few hours. Her family are experienced cat owners and had delivered kittens before. Then to add to the action, Winnie, our boy cat, decides to make his grand entrance and became all bewildered with the unfolding scene. He cautiously crept up to the ginger puss in the box then planted himself solidly by our door as if to say, “they are my owners, don’t even think about…”.
|  Winnie closely looking at proceedings. |  Lezil lining the floor with plastic. | His food bowl was empty, so I stacked it up to try and distract him. It worked. So there we were, standing in between a cat in labour and another one busy stuffing its face. I was adamant that I didn’t want the ginger cat dropping her load outside our door. The last thing we needed was a hoard of more cats meowing to be fed. One was enough, thank you very much. (Can you tell that I am not a cat person? Give me a dog any day!)
I went back down to the ground floor and interrupted one of neighbour’s dinner to ask him if we could use a sheltered spot outside in the communal garden to place the cat-in-labour and her box? He wasn’t too pleased with the idea. Unfortunately street cats are like rats here and therefore not a lot of care is shown towards the creatures. Getting one of my Shanghainese buddies on the phone to explain properly the situation to him, he thankfully relented.
| | I was super nervous picking up the box with the cat in it, especially as it had one open side. But she was perfectly well-behaved not moving, almost knowingly trusting our judgement for her well-being. We used one of the outside shed areas, lined it with plastic on the floor (to make it waterproof) and then I gently lowered the box down. There was no rain forecast which meant a dry night and the overnight temperature was a warm 20C. Good conditions.
The mother cat soon relaxed and closed her eyes. In a way, that was our job done. Just call us the cat midwives! The rest was now in her court. At the time of writing, she was still busy nesting but no sign of new lives yet.
|  Settling the pregnant street cat in her new birthing sheltered spot. | Once we were back in our apartment and I had time to digest all that had just happened and I remembered that this was the other ginger cat that I had frequently seen Winnie playing with by the next door neighbour’s concrete back yard. So, the big unanswered question we have to ask ourselves…is Winnie the father?  With our lao shi (teacher) learning how to make rice dumplings.  Packing in the wraps with rice and meat.  Raw seasoned pork.  Good times with friends doing something culturally Chinese. :)  Some finished rice dumplings we made, ready for cooking.  With the Argyle Hotel's marketing Manager, Maggie.  Nigeria stand proud! At Café Connect with friends (left to right) Philippa and Bettina (daughter and mother - Jamaica/Nigeria).  With another friend, Francis (Ghana/UK).  (left to right) Ibere (Nigeria) with Christina (Germany).  Southern Africans! (left to right) Lezil (SA), Nyasha (Zim) and Thando (SA).  With the Nigerian and Burundi crew!  With some of my local friends who dropped by to sample some African delights!  And yes....this could be a picture of the future (me constantly in Nigerian clothes!). Not sure what you were thinking of... LOL! ;)  Yes! Akara in Shanghai!
So, we were technically a bit late to classify our apartment mass-clear out as a ‘spring clean’. But nonetheless, we spent the whole of Sunday sifting through accumulated stuff from the last two years. Despite the small size of our accommodation, we somehow managed to acquire an impressive array of items that we could quite easily have hosted our own flea market.
 Ta da! Our main room having one big clear out! | Militancy was the order of the way. My motto was, if it hadn’t been used in the last 12 months, chuck it out. We had two old suitcases with broken handles which acted as makeshift dumpsters and in no time they were both filled with clothing, old notebooks, shredded receipts and invoices, magazines, past travel itineraries, worn-down shoes and handbags that had clearly passed their use-by date. One of the great things about clearing things out in China, you don’t have to go far to actually dispose of them. Aside from the two suitcases we also had another six garbage bags full of junk.
| Lezil had gone outside and ‘dumped’ the first two garbage bags while I continued the indoor operation. The dumping was actually just outside our gate which technically you are not supposed to do but everyone does it (yes, a slap on the wrist for me!). Over the next five minutes all our garbage bags had gone out. As the last ones left our door, I broke into a panic. “Where’s that envelope?” I muttered to myself. There was a piece of mail that had arrived from Hong Kong with what felt like a credit card inside for the flat’s previous tenants. We were to be meeting them in an hour’s time to hand over their envelope. I had (stupidly) left the envelope as a reminder to myself on the armchair’s ledge – the same place where we had been tearing up paper and ever-so-systematically packing up the rubbish in bags.
| Great. I just knew that the envelope had mistakenly been caught up in one of those garbage bags outside. Whilst I frantically turned our apartment upside down, Lezil had run outside to fetch the bags back. But wait. With Shanghai’s uber-efficient street-recycling system (read = anyone walking past), I wasn’t surprised when Lezil came back to tell me that out of the six bags we had left outside, only the one remained (all in the space of less than five minutes). Argh!! I absolutely hated losing things and even more when it wasn’t even my own to begin with. Venting off to Lezil, I said my two-cent’s worth on how people love to recycle things way too fast in Shanghai.
Dejectedly I sent a voicemail to the people concerned apologising for the unforeseen mishap. I waited for their response rather uncomfortably. As a half-hearted last-ditched effort (actually I was beyond frustrated), I grabbed the only garbage bag we had in our possession and tipped the whole thing out on our living room floor.
|  Little carts that go around Shanghai picking thrown-out items off the street. (Photo by Simon Dean) | Hundreds of tiny bits of cut up paper were littered everywhere. On my knees, almost as an act of self-punishment, I picked through the unrecognisable cuttings. How could I have been such an idiot? My Sony Tablet flashed up with an incoming message. That must be the ex-tenants responding.
I started scooping the rubbish back in the bag and what did I find? The envelope! It was roughly folded right at the bottom of the heap and thankfully was still intact. Instantaneously my pale expression of worry warmed up to an exhausted sigh of relief. What are the odds? Of all the bags to remain outside, it was the only one with the missing envelope in it. Thank God! The tenants had messaged me back saying not to worry, but I wanted to be the bringer of positive news and restore my good name. “Disaster averted,” I dramatically told them. From then on, we double checked each bag before it went out. We had to be careful as you literally didn’t have a second to spare with the speed that discarded items were picked up off our street.  The Geisha - F.Y.E.S.T.A.'s new venue in Shanghai. | With that excitement over with, we cleaned up and biked down to The Geisha. Our friend Sylvie was holding her fifth instalment of her popular F.Y.E.S.T.A. series. It’s a monthly Sunday late-afternoon gathering of all things fashionable, food, music and entrepreneurial. For F.Y.E.S.T.A., The Geisha was a new venue where previously it had been held in a couple of outlets in the Jiashan Market area of Shanghai. Certainly the more prominent positioning of the venue (on Shaanxi Nan Lu, near Fuxing Lu) was a step up. The entire top third floor of club/restaurant was allocated for the event where by the indoor section you had various vendors. The attractive outdoor rooftop terrace next door was lined with a handful of up-and-coming food and drink enterprises.
| | The weather was perfect and therefore brought people out in their droves. The place was packed, so much so, that trying to get a glimpse of the foodie tables outside was a bit of a mission. Our buddy Helina from Eat Ethio was doing a roaring trade. Her brand has become somewhat synonymous with F.Y.E.S.T.A. as punters devoured her wonderfully seasoned Ethiopian dishes out of her trademark brown boxes. Amongst the hive of activity we bumped into an old friend who we hadn’t seen for nearly three years - Aldrine. Actually, he worked with Lezil during her time as the lead singer at the Hilton Shanghai. He was the hot-shot bar tender there.
|  Waving and smiling, Helina from Eat Ethio at F.Y.E.S.T.A. |  With our friend Aldrine - Operations Manager at The Geisha. | He knew us before we got married, so we were more than happy to update him on our marital status. It turns out that from working at the Hilton, Aldrine landed up a position as the Operations Manager of The Geisha and its associated venue The Flamingo Bar & Playhouse. He’s the same cool guy he was then as he is now. Down-turn-earth and upbeat.
After scanning over the small indoor stalls, we ended up making a couple of purchases by the good people at Vintage Warriors. Run by Pedro D’Aguiar, a Portuguese native, alongside his lovely wife Roberta from Brazil – their aim is to bring together a unique collection of old-school branded fashion/lifestyle items made available across their small chain of global stores. Currently they have outlets here in Shanghai, Lisbon, London and Buenos Aires. They had branded t-shirts, retro leather bags, customised leather vintage watches, really cool bicycle handle bars made from cedar wood and an eye-catching collection of summer shoes.
| | It was the latter that saw Lezil and I sizing up a pair to purchase. Called ‘Chinese Style’ – the light canvas shoes with durable rubber soles are made in Hangzhou and are modelled around the classic martial arts shoes traditional used in many Kung Fu schools in China. At RMB 150 (£15),they were reasonable priced and certainly, they had a good selection of summer colours to choose from. I opted for an emerald green and Lezil went with a bright pink. The fact that Pedro himself was wearing his own product (and they looked pretty worn in) was a further selling point. I didn’t waste any time in rocking my new pair of Chinese Style shoes. Very comfortable indeed.
Entertainment wise, the music policy went from pumping club-esque music to classic Motown. In between there was a short Hip Hop set by MCs Amil and Dana aka Ocean. They were tight but unfortunately the heavy-laden beats coupled with their vocals were too much for the outdoor speakers which became very distorted.
|  Lezil choosing her pair of 'Chinese Style' canvas shoes. |  With house music master DJ Cherokee from Australia. | Their set was cut short after only two tracks. It was left to the DJ to spin some summer vibes. I was hoping to hear DJ Cherokee work the wheels of steel that afternoon.
She dropped an incredible set at last month’s event leaning on more soulful / disco house vibes. She told me (much to my disappointment) that she wasn’t playing that day. But still, it was nice to have a catch up with her where she informed me that she’s in Shanghai for the summer with a move to Germany’s Berlin slated for early autumn. Originally from Melbourne, Australia, DJ Cherokee literally globe-trots appearing wherever her gigs are booked. She also has a syndicated radio show which goes out in Australia, the US and Hong Kong. Aside from being a prominent house DJ, she’s also now turning her attention to producing which I am particularly looking forward to hearing. I’ve always said, a DJ knows what generates a crowd’s response. And with her years and years in the industry, no doubt she will be churning out some killer tunes in the near future. | Another top day out at F.Y.E.S.T.A.! However, with the continually growing turn-out each month, I think Sylvie is going to have to re-think her venue choice sometime soon.
 A packed rooftop terrace at The Geisha for the 5th F.Y.E.S.T.A. event.  Moroccan food for sale.  MC Amil and his Hip Hop set.  Dana dropping some vocals alongside MC Amil.  Holding my newly bought pair of 'Chinese Style' shoes with Vintage Warriors co-founder Pedro D'Aguiar.
With spring’s weather firmly on the map, I told Lezil it was time we invested in bikes. My first year in China (up in Inner Mongolia) my bike was like my car –an essential mode of transport for getting out and about in the city. Since moving to Shanghai two years, and a two-wheeled option has been nowhere to be seen.
Lezil at the first bike store which was a no-go.
| I jealously looked at all those cyclists zipping past our apartment window and I declared to Lezil that May was the month to finally get our bikes. All around the city there are bike shops. A local friend even suggested we pay a visit to one of a couple of so-called bike markets (translate: stolen bikes for sale). Whilst we could have picked up an incredible deal (according to him, he paid RMB 200 for a bike that really cost near to RMB 1,500) – it just didn’t sit right with me, gaining pleasure out of someone else’s misfortune.
| The key was to choose a bike shop not too far from our home. For a few years now, bikes are no longer allowed on the Shanghai metro. So riding them back after the point of purchase had to be taken into consideration. We aimed for Jiangsu Lu area – about three stops from our place by metro where there was a well-stocked bike shop. Having done some research both online and on foot, the prices there were a little above average and the owner wasn’t really open to negotiating so that ended that sale-attempt. | As we weren’t that far from the main shopping mall at Zhongshan Park, I suggested we venture into the huge Carrefour supermarket there. Admittedly, this was not what I had in mind. I romanticised about finding a unique and obscure bike place to pick up a one-of-a-kind model at an unbelievable price. But budget was the leading factor and I had been told that supermarkets arguably offer the best deals (apart from online, of course).
I knew straight where to go to as I had walked past the supermarket’s bike section countless times without a second glance. This time, it had my undivided attention. A dedicated staff member was there to talk you through the various prices and styles.
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The bike section at Carrefour, Zhongshan Park.
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Selecting my Phillips bike.
| I was adamant on having something more classic looking and Lezil wanted one that was more compact and easier to manoeuvre. And to my pleasant surprise we found both. And, I might add, at a killer price.
Our two chosen bikes also happen to be a Phillips make – an originally British-made product which was then taken over by the Raleigh Bicycle Company. Nowadays, the brand has been licensed out to different territories and China now produces its own national line. The famed Phillips badge with the motto “renowned the world over” was proudly stuck to the front bars of both bikes. After taking it for a quick spin inside the supermarket (which was interesting to do!) and securing the seat height and bike locks, we were at the payout counter handing our cash over. Total price for two new bikes including front baskets, bike bells and reinforced locks – RMB 900 (£90). | | All I could think about was “freedom at last”. Just to be able to jump on our bikes and go, was a liberating feeling. And we wasted no time. A few hours later and we were pedalling our way through the small French Concession streets in our area to meet some friends outside the Hengshan Cinema. Built some 60 odd years ago, the outside had been lovingly restored to its original classic façade. With three screens, the largest holding 896 seats, the wide foyer was packed with people all keen to watch the new Iron Man 3 release.
The 7:30pm screening was a full house as we slowly filtered through the small entrance into the main Screen 1. This third installment of the Iron Man series had unprecedented advertising in China thanks, in part, to Beijing based film production company’s DMG Entertainment involvement in co-producing the project. |
The beautiful exterior of Hengshan Cinema.
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Seated ready for Iron Man 3 - Lezil, Christal, Camille and Kristin.
| Also, like all foreign films official screened in China, it has to pass the government’s ‘OK’ on a number of items on their cultural checklist, often resulting in altered storylines, scenes cut out all together or not being shown at all (like Django).
Thankfully the Chinese version of Iron Man 3 didn’t have any major omissions but rather a somewhat out-of-place 5 minutes addition which featured a rather bland conversation (all in Mandarin) between Dr Wu (played by Chinese veteran actor Wang Xueqi) and his surgery assistant played by immensely popular actress Fan Bingbing. | | There were a also a couple of scenes shot with Iron Man entertaining a bunch of Chinese school kids before jetting his way up to the sky. At the very end of the film, after the credits had finished, all we were given as a simple line on-screen with the words “Tony Stark will be back…”- as opposed to the extra ‘Tony Stark therapy session’ skit shown in the West.
Iron Man 3 has already set a record in China for the biggest opening day takings at RMB 130 million ($21 million). This is a sure sign that China’s box office continues to grow at break neck speed. China is now the second biggest film market (after the US) standing at a whopping $2.7billion annually with a reported 10 cinemas a day being built.
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A packed near-900 seater screen for Iron Man 3.
| Movie-experience wise for me? All in all a big thumbs up. Although didn’t really see the point of watching it in 3D.
Excited to finally buy our Shanghai bikes!
Lezil finds the perfect match (not me...the bike! LOL...)
The famous Phillips badge on the front. English brand but made in China.
Taking our bikes out for their first spin in the city!
Waiting to see Iron Man 3 at Hengshan Cinema. (left to right) Lezil, Christal, Camille and me.
3D! :)
With barely enough time to get the ringing out of our ears from clubbing hours before, we were up at the ‘crack of sparrows’ (thank you Kath & Kim – all my Aussie comedy fans know what I am referring to!). The weather had turned nasty. Five days earlier Shanghai had been basking in a summery 29C. Today, the thermometer plunged down to a measly 12C. It was windy, damp and raining – not the ideal setting for going strawberry picking.
Lezil looking a lot more freshed-faced than I on our early morning trip!
| Dragging ourselves out of our apartment, we made our way to a downtown meeting point. We were headed to Shanghai’s Qingpu district (a far suburb) where a cluster of farms grew a variety of produce including its famed strawberries. There are a number of public bus routes that can take you there, but knowing that we would have been tired and the fact that going the public transport option would have taken longer, we paid the little extra to join a day tour. RMB 115 (£10) got us a return trip on a private bus, access to the farm for picking, a lunch and an afternoon visit to one of Shanghai’s historic water villages. Not bad.
| | The trip, in fact, was organised by a small private Chinese language school called SN Mandarin. Geared towards their staff and students, I had dropped them an email a week ago asking if we could tag along which they graciously accepted. We were about thirty people in total on that bus as we set off, west bound towards the outskirts of Shanghai.
Little over an hour later and the roads had become small tarmac country lanes with plenty of land used for growing veggies. One of the farm workers came out to meet us in her bright pink scooter to lead the bus to the right patch. We piled out, thankful to stretch our legs.
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We arrive out at our farm destination in Shanghai's Qingpu district.
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Entering into one of the greenhouses where the strawberries grow.
| The rain had eased to a lingering drizzle which just made everything feel wet-to-the-touch. Walking about 10 minutes through the fields we finally arrived at the strawberry section. To keep them guarded against the cold, they were all sheltered in makeshift plastic greenhouses which did offer a welcome escape from the outside elements.
The farm owners enthusiastically handed us a basket each with a box inside for placing the strawberries in. There was an abundance of fruit everywhere and all pretty big sizes too. Our group leader, Bella, had told us that the farm prides itself on organic growing methods and said that we could literally pick the fruit and eat it straight. | | Knowing my stomach sensitivity, I avoided the temptation to do so. This was actually the first time I had seen strawberry growing plants up close and it was fascinating to see the different stages of the fruit from a flower to a tiny little green cone-shape, to its changing white colour and then the eventually blood-red fruit at the end of its evolving process.
We must have spent a good 25 minutes bending over and gently snapping the fruit off its vine using our thumb nail. Once we had our boxes fairly filled up, outside the greenhouse were some scales where you had your fruit weighed. |
Everyone gets down to picking strawberries.
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Enjoying my birthday treat with Lezil and the strawberries!
| Between Lezil and I, we harvested about 3.5 kilos of fresh strawberries which came to a bargain RMB 59 (£5.90) in total. With our boxes sealed up, we then followed our group trail past a small river and small houses to the main farmhouse which was to be our lunch venue.
Because of the recent meat scares, the only carnivorous choice given was stewed pork which we didn’t eat any way. The rest of the dishes brought out were all from the farm which included spring onions, carrots, green peppers, beans, cabbage and potatoes. | | There was also a delicious fried bamboo selection, a fresh water seasoned fish, tofu in a garlic sauce and, the Chinese stable, rice. Oh, and a plate of strawberries for dessert! The dwelling was a simple affair with our dining area opening up to a concrete courtyard which had smaller houses and an outdoor kitchen.
The school staff had organised a simple ice-breaker game which involved the popping of a balloon. Inside each balloon was either a prize or a forfeit. I got a slip with a prize on it (a Chinese language book), whereas Lezil drew the short straw and had to do a forfeit. She was told to pull five different faces for the camera. She was a pro as she put her years of stage experience to good use. |
With some of the group enjoying the start of our farm cooked Chinese meal.
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At one of Zhujajiao's main canal entrances.
| Bellies full, we briskly walked back to the bus. It was late afternoon and the temperature was beginning to drop. Once inside the warmth of the bus, it was a 40 minute drive to Zhujajiao – one of Shanghai’s prime tourist spots. Up until now, we hadn’t had the chance (or the time!) to make the trip out to this appealing water village.
It didn’t disappoint. The main north entrance area was deceptively small as once you got past the main canal area, the whole village became an enticing run of tiny alleys and hidden water canals. The bad weather even worked to our advantage as the place was very quiet with visitors.
| | The village is said to date back more than 1,700 years with its principle stone bridge – Fangsheng – being the longest and the highest giving a 360 degree view of the entire area.
Popularity has it double effect. On the one hand, the village has benefitted from the influx of tourist money. On the other, commercialisation can erode the appeal of an ancient historic site. The winding lanes were pretty much a collection of shops or independent coffee outlets and restaurants. These eateries were a labour of love as each one had its unique décor which many were like walking into someone’s private home. Very cosy and touching small details. |
At the top of Fangsheng Bridge overlooking the ancient water village. Cold!!!
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One of many picturesque canals.
| I can imagine in nicer weather, the open deck sections of these places would be where you would while away the time with a nice drink and watch the Chinese water gondolas drift by. There were a few out on the water that day, but we didn’t fancy sitting still in the cold and we had a limited time frame in the village itself.
Before long, it was back to Zhujajiao’s main entrance for a final group photo brandishing the school’s emblem printed on a flag. The bus trip back to the city centre was a silent one as everyone pretty much was out for the count.
| Birthday treat part two was an absolute blast and to think we had a truck load of strawberry supplies to enjoy once home – life was sweet indeed.
Our group makes its way to the strawberry fields.
Clean and fresh strawberries, ready for the picking!
Lezil fills up her box.
My own selection looking very ripe indeed!
Weighing our produce.
The fruits of our labour!!
A small river goes past our farmhouse.
At the farmhouse courtyard.
Lunch is cooked local-style in an outdoor kitchen.
We gather in the near-open-air dining room.
Fish on the menu...
Gambei!
We arrive at the ancient water village of Zhujajiao.
Fresh catch of the day!
Lezil by a quaint restaurant entrance.
Chinese water gondolas.
One of many tightly packed lanes in the village.
Calm and quiet by the waterside.
 News of Shanghai's Bird Flu virus is all over the internet. | I texted my boss that morning telling her that I was too poorly to come into teach as I had a high fever, a runny nose and was feeling nauseous. She immediately responded, “…go to the hospital. You know in Shanghai we have bird flu now…”. I wave of panic came over me. Sure enough, looking up the symptoms online I ticked all the boxes.
It’s not been a good year so far in terms of food safety in China. First things kicked off with the catastrophe of Biblical proportions where thousands of dead pig carcasses were being hauled out of Shanghai’s Huang Pu river (a source of drinking water of the city).
| Then followed the mysterious appearance of more than a 1,000 dead ducks found in a river in China’s Sichuan province. Shanghai and its neighbouring areas got another hit by falling prey to a newly discovered strain of Bird Flu – H7N9 which, at the time of writing, has claimed 9 lives out of 33 people so far detected with the disease. | I decided to put positive thinking into practise by telling myself that in a few hours I would be fine. On the contrary, despite having slept the whole afternoon, drank loads of warm lemon water with honey, I was feeling progressively worse. From our bed, I feebly called out to Lezil asking her if we could go to the hospital to get to the bottom of this sickness. It was a short 10 minute taxi ride to Ruijin Hospital – widely seen as Shanghai’s best. They do have a foreign section but at an overly priced premium. We had already registered as patients before, so it was pretty straight forward using the local facilities. |  Grabbing a taxi to Ruijin Hospital.
|  Giving the hospital receptionist my phone for help with translation! | Unfortunately my Chinese vocab doesn’t quite extend to explaining specific medical symptoms.
Upon entering the emergency reception area, the place wasn’t overly busy. All around were warning signs for the H7N9 virus and how best to prevent catching it. The old lady on the desk spoke zero English and all I could say in the Chinese was that I was sick and then I pointed at the Bird Flu poster. | | She must have thought I was mad. I called up my boss (who kindly offered to help translated if I needed it). Handing the phone over, the masked-receptionist chatted for a few moments ending her conversation with “Wo ming bai le…” (Oh, I see….). I got handed a thermometer and was told to keep it in my mouth for 3 minutes. My boss was still on the other end as I got the low down on what would happen next.
Hanging up I returned to the reception desk and handed back the thermometer. It read 37C – normal. So far, so good. But I still felt very weak and had the sensation of wanting to throw up.
She booked me in with the doctor for a closer look. Unlike some previous experiences in emergency section of British hospitals, here I was seen to very quickly. |  Themometer in my mouth and the phone in my hand speaking to my boss. |  Awaiting my turn to see the emergency doctor, along with all the other patients in the same room. | A brief check of my breathing with a stethoscope the doctor on duty asked that I go for a blood test.
Again, it was a speedy process and I literally waited no more than 20 minutes to get the results back. Various components showed that I had a very high cell count which, the doctor, later told me that I did indeed have a virus but that thankfully it was not of the H7N9 variety.
Phew! I came away with a couple of packets of antibiotics to take over the next few days. Job done. | | Yes, this may come across as being overly cautious, but when you are in close proximity with people who tend to not cover their mouths when they cough or sneeze (especially not nice in a packed metro train) – it’s definitely better to be safe than sorry. Shanghai’s municipalities have shut down the trade of all live poultry until the virus is contained. Over 110,000 chickens so far have been culled and the streets around where we live – the giant bird cages are uncharacteristically empty.
According to a local newspaper, Shanghai gets through around 130 million birds a year (that’s just ONE city). Times that by the countless other mega-to-medium sized Chinese urban sprawls and you do wonder how the demand for meat is being kept up in a safe and sanitary way fit for human consumption.
|  Getting a blood test done. | It’s enough to turn you into a vegetarian, but even there – again issues have been exposed concerning growing and preservation methods for fruit and vegetables. No more meat? Maybe.  Taking my temperature as I stand by a big warning sign on the latest virus strain of bird flu to break out - H7N9.
 With my 'Alien Employment Permit' - necessary for working legally in China. | It’s that time of year to renew our visas once more. This will herald the start of my fourth year in China and Lezil’s fifth. Rewind a few years back and had you asked me where I’d be in 2013, China certainly wouldn’t have figured in the equation. My perception, as with most foreigners who have never stepped foot in the country, was shaped by the western media’s obsession of packaging this humongous and extremely diverse culture into one neat little box.
But China has proven itself so much more than a communist-led government whose economy continues to forge ahead despite the global difficulties elsewhere. Most outsiders I know living here have those days where you could never imagine living anywhere else. And then come the down times when just as you think you have got to grips with all the kinks and quirks of being in a Chinese city – you long for something a bit more familiar to your pre-Asian existence. | | The scary moment is when you realise your love affair is slowly coming to an end and it’s time to pack up your bags and leave. Thankfully, we haven’t arrived at that point yet. As many of you know, I have spent my time living in two cities. First was Hohhot, Inner Mongolia’s capital – a very remote part of north China with an expanse of empty grassland just north of the city telling a completely different tale to the often-portrayed crowded China. Then followed a move further south to Shanghai – China’s so-called sparkling mainland jewel. |  The expanse of grasslands just north of Hohhot where I lived for a year. |  If you are claustrophobic, the Shanghai metro during rush hour is not the place to be. | Here, you jostle with over 7 million people who use the city’s metro system daily. There’s a skyline endlessly punctuated with the tops of sky scrapers and a frantic pace-of-life where everyone’s out to carve a living someway somehow. Those at the top end of the income scale are spectacularly rich with more than 90 billionaires and over 370,000 millionaires quoted as residing in the city (US Dollars). The sense of entrepreneurship freely flows, within strict government boundaries of course, and the cost of living is low compared to other major hubs like London or New York. | | Points against include the every-increasing air pollution, health and safety issues, employment practises (that took a while to get used to), the tightening control of the internet (no facebook, no youtube, google gets blocked regularly, VPNs are going down) and, yes, there’s the spitting. My walk to work is guaranteed to come across at least four displays of healthy throat hocking following by a grand finale of phlegm-spewing right in the middle of the sidewalk. As with anything you are exposed to continually, surprisingly I’ve become somewhat immune to it now. And so it’s on that note that I tip my glass up and say “here’s to another year in Shanghai!” |  Facebook continues to be blocked in China. |  We live on the 3rd floor of this 90 year old building. | Many of you who haven’t yet to come and visit us (you know who you are!), there’s another 12 months to try and catch us while were still in this amazing country. In the meantime, feast your eyes on our very unique accommodation – known as a ‘Shanghai lane house’ which in recent years has become a hot spot for foreigners looking to embrace a bit of Chinese history in a city known more for its modernity than anything else. According to our landlady, this particular property we are living in is around 90 years old and has been in her family for about 80 of those years. | | It’s got charm, its rough around the edges but for the last two years, it has become our little love nest where our neighbours have become like familiar room mates. We are the only completely inclusive apartment in the building. The rest of it is divided up into actual rooms (one family to a room) where there are two very rustic-looking kitchens and a toilet which is shared by all the tenants. As with the rest of the four-floored block, we have access to the communal garden. But to honest, it’s really only used for clothes-drying and slaughtering chickens and pigeons (our 1st floor neighbour likes his meat fresh!). We are the only foreigners there, giving us a great immersion into local living. |  One of two very-well used kitchens. | There are times when you go past some of the beautifully landscape expat gated communities with their blossoming green areas and five star leisure facilities and for a moment wishing that perhaps you did have a slice of the action. But in that fleeting second I realise the uniqueness of where we are actually living and to be honest, I’d be hard pressed to swap it for anything else right now.
 The main doorway into our building block. Next to the door, the electricity mains.  The other kitchen which looks like it hasn't really changed much in the last 90 years!  From the entrance area, the little hallway leading out to the communal garden.  A rather neglected back garden.  The garden's main use: killing livestock and clothes drying (as seen in the photo).  The view of our building from the garden. We are on the third floor (second from the top). Notice our flower pots!  Back inside the hallway, and the steep wooden steps leading up.  Our front foor. Winnie the cat's bedding and food bowl are just outside.  Door opened and it leads into our living/dining room area.  A better view of the room.  To the side of the living room is a sunken kitchen.  Our main bedroom. We like our bright duvets!  The compact bathroom with shower just off the main bedroom.  The view from our living room with our hanging herb garden - mint, rosemary and lemon brawn.
As the climate in Shanghai is still deciding on whether to bring us spring or stay a little longer in winter, we decided to gamble by rolling up our sleeves and getting some dirt under our finger nails. I told Lezil that I have this idealistic dream of having a vegetable patch and some farm animals for a more sustainable lifestyle.
Negotiating the best price for our veg-growing goodies!
| The livestock is still a long way off (Winnie our cat doesn’t count!) and the communal garden we share with three other floors in our old lane house is in a sorry state. Therefore starting simply is always the best. A few stops due east from our home on line 10 was Laoximen metro station and from there it was a 10 minute walk to the pet and flower market. I had cooked up a plan to grow our own veggies using the fairly large window ledges we have outside both our sitting room and bedroom windows.
| | It was frantic business that Saturday afternoon as I haggled for the best deals on two troughs, some quality fertilised soil, a spade and the all-essential seeds for growing the vegetables themselves. The pet outlets outnumbered the plant ones with every imaginable animal sound ringing in our ears. For a rock-bottom final price of RMB 100 (£10) I had all the items we needed to start our journey on harvesting a healthy batch of tomatoes, spring onions and chillies. We use these practically every day in our cooking, so it made sense to then try and produce our own supply.
Just before leaving we picked up an already growing herb plant, rosemary, to add to our mint plant we had purchased the week before. Both are now innovatively hanging from our outdoor clothes rail.
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Wrapping up the deal as our items are packed for us.
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Ready to start planting our veg garden.
| Back at home, we used our lane’s driveway to start preparing the troughs with soil and watering them sufficiently ready for seed planting. Our downstairs neighbour came out to watch us tenderly prepare everything as he amused himself over the two foreigners working their green fingers with enthusiasm. He was asking us where we planned to grow the veggies to which I told him our harebrained idea of window ledge planting. He seemed pretty impressed with our home project. | | It seemed like our prolonged presence out front was attracting not only our neighbours but our fruit lady’s cat. She runs her stall right next door to our apartment and we had spotted her cat playing with Winnie a few times before. Unofficially christening her ‘Amarula’, after the famed South African cream liqueur, she was a right little inquisitive feline. She didn’t hesitate on jumping up on our laps. Then she took a liking to our watering can, feverishly lapping up the water before startling herself by tipping it over. We had brought some fish treats for cats courtesy of Lezil’s mum in Australia which, strangely enough, Amarula wasn’t sure to make of.
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Amarula the cat drinking from our watering can!
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Seeds for spring onions.
| She was more interested in sniffing the titbit than actually eating it. Under Amarula’s playful gaze we completed the final stages of our mini veg garden by planting the seeds. The packet instructions were all in Chinese characters which made it tough going. So a quick spin on the internet and we had some good tips on how best to nurture our plants-to-be. A quick pat down of the soil and a final light-watering and we took our two heavy troughs back into our apartment to their new window ledge homes.
Thankfully both our rooms are south-facing and receive sun practically all day long which is perfect to kick start the seedlings growth. This was our very first attempt at home-grown produce. Already the following morning I longing looked over the tops of the troughs naively hoping to see some green shoots coming through. I can’t wait to see the first signs of a sprouting plant and trust me, there will be periodic blog updates on how our little babies are doing.
| | Scrubbing ourselves clean back to city dwellers standards Lezil and I went to a screening of a new documentary. This was a collaboratively produced project by The British Council, a Shanghai-based entertainment company Split Works and a locally-based film company Daedelum Films. The 55 minutes fly-on-the-wall movie entitled “From Wrexham to Wuhan” followed the experiences of four British bands performing at various cities across China.
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A good turnout for the screening.
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As part of the Jue Arts Festival, the documentary "From Wrexham To Wuhan" is screened.
| For all-but-one of the performers, it was their first experience being in the Far East and the differences in the music scene, culture and modes of travel all gave the viewers a chance to see how each person adapted.
It was an excellent way to promote cross-culture creativity and the snappy edits of both the performances and the more behind-the-scenes footage gave you a good enough insight into how the bands were actually received in China. That night at the venue, a good turnout of both Chinese and expats supported what was touted as a ‘world premiere’.
| | After a few hellos and goodbyes with some familiar faces after the screening, we made our way to The Room. A fairly new clubbing venue, our Chinese Swedish friend Sunni was celebrating his birthday with another mate of his, Daniel. Both the birthday boys had booked out the entire place for their private get-together. Each table had its regular flow of soft drinks, vodka and champagne. And the crowd that night was very mixed from Americans and Scandinavians to the Chinese Diaspora including: USA, Malaysia, Singapore and, of course, mainland China.
The music was decidedly more underground with a lot of electro, break beats and the fast-becoming-annoying-tune ‘Harlem Shake’ being played three times that night.
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At 'The Room' celebrating Sunni's (left) birthday.
| By midnight I was decidedly on the edge of ‘too happy’ and decided it was time to get home. (Their vodka and orange mix worked slowly but potently.) Once my head hit the pillow, I was out for the count.
The ladies deciding on what to eat at the Penta Hotel's brunch.
| Sunday started with our weekly visit to our nearby vegetable market. Stocking up on all our green goodies for the week we went to the Penta Hotel Shanghai for their popular Sunday brunch. So popular is their brunch that when we arrived at the opening time of 11am, the whole restaurant was already booked out. The reason behind the high demand is their tantalising price of just RMB 128 (£12) per person which basically gives you a main dish and an eat-as-much-as-you-want buffet.
| | We rendevouzed with our friends Alex and Kwandi and managed to get the hotel staff to sit us in the entrance’s lounge area complete with a real-life looking fake log fire. The dining experience did not disappoint. We sat there for over two hours while we had a much overdue catch up from our Chinese New Year holidays. I went for a three cheese omelette which was cooked just right while the ladies opted for scrambled eggs on salmon and toast with tomatoes. This was accompanied with an endless flow of tea, coffee and super delicious pastries and cheese from the buffet.
I felt a like a bit of a glutton just thinking about our next appointment which was afternoon tea with our Shanghai mama, Miranda.
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Ready to eat! (left to right) Kwandi, Alex, Lezil and I.
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Eating our second (!!) lunch of the day at Sunflour with (left to right) Miranda, Phoebe, Lezil and I.
| Departing the Penta Hotel we taxied it down to the SunFlour, one of our favourite bakeries-cum-restaurants in our area. This time, Lezil and I decided to share a dish as we were still busy digesting our banquet from earlier. We were also joined by Phoebe, an apprentice of Miranda’s who has been learning cooking skills and English under her careful watch.
Phoebe recently bagged a job at Sun Flour itself now working on the cake section in the kitchen and from what she was telling us, she’s thoroughly enjoying her new position. Again we spent a couple of hours packing in stories from our time in Australia and Miranda’s time in Canada.
| How we managed to fit in two back to back lunches – was a mystery to me. (I’d like you to know that we skipped dinner that night from being so full!) Food aside, these precious people we call friends make up our family here in Shanghai. You share, you encourage, you debate, you sometimes disagree but all the time there’s that sense of ‘having each other’s back’. It’s what keeps you grounded on a journey with plenty of ups and downs, especially in a city like Shanghai.
Buying a rosemary herb plant to add to our existing mint herb plant.
Back at home, placing the soil in the troughs.
Lezil mixes the soil.
Amarula the cat drops by to look in on us.
Attempting to give a fish treat to Amarula.
The soil is ready for planting!
Carefully putting the seeds in the soil.
Ta Da! All done and now the waiting game begins!
Soaking up the sun on our windowsill.
 Along many of Western Australian roads - signs for kangaroos. | A sure sign that my Chinese must be getting better became apparent the other day. A planned trip out to the country failed when our Tom Tom told us “…you have arrived at your destination…”. Lezil and I peered out of the car to see nothing but forest all around us with no Koala reserve in sight.
We drove on for another 15 minutes in the hope of finding an entrance but we came up empty. There was the odd road sign warning us to keep a look out for kangaroos, but that was it. It was getting late in the afternoon and technically there was only an hour left until the reserve closed, so we decided to postpone the visit for another day. (And look at a good old-fashioned map for the exact coordinates!) We headed back into Perth’s suburbs and made a pit-stop at a shopping complex. We decided to pick up some eats at Coles (a type of Australian Tesco). It was totally weird seeing shelf after shelf of Western food.
| | Back in Shanghai, not even 1% of what was sold there we could get our hands on and even then, it would be relegated to half an aisle of so-called ‘imported goods’. Of course, we came across some local produce including kangaroo meat. Now, that’s not so uncommon being in Australia and all. But what we saw was kangaroo meat for pets, in the frozen food section, in between the frozen pizzas and frozen dim sum. How pet food got grouped there, and of the kangaroo meat variety – beats me.
For some reason, they had run out on cucumbers. We paid for the rest of our items and near the mini shopping precinct exit was a small grocers.
|  In a supermarket's frozen food section, kangaroo meat for pets. | In the vegetable and fruit section there was a variety of greens on offer. In big green plastic trays were three kinds of cucumbers on offer. I wasn’t sure which one to get. Looking around for a sales clerk, I called over the man behind the cash till. Asking him to differentiate between the three types, he struggled to string a sentence together.  Meeting a very excitable Chinese-speaking, Mr Ong! | I guessed by his Asian appearance and his accented Chinglish, that he must have been Chinese. I flipped into Mandarin mode. “Zhe shi yi yang de ma?” (Is this the same?) He stood back and starting flapping his hands like he had just won the state lottery. A flood of Mandarin came my way and I had to ask him to slow down. (I’m not that good yet!) He asked how I learnt to speak Mandarin and I told him that both Lezil and I are currently living in Shanghai. It was a fast-moving conversation with him firing all sorts of questions at me. My vocabulary is limited but I managed to get across what my profession is, why we were in Australia, how long the flight is between Shanghai and Perth and, strangely enough, what an average teacher’s salary in Shanghai is.
| The inevitable picture-taking took place and we exchanged business cards (using two hands of course) with him giving me his personal mobile number and giving me a sneak peek of a recent photo of his granddaughter. I thought we’d be happy to have a break from all things Chinese. But in reality, it was comforting to come into contact with something that was overly familiar to us. This guy could have been anyone. Overlooking the fact that my Mandarin was very low-level, he enthusiastically engaged with us like we had been family who had just flown in from the motherland to celebrate Chinese New Year in Perth. Who would have thought, that I would be using Mandarin in Australia to get by a language barrier situation?
Arriving at Shanghai's Pudong International Airport.
| My cell phone rang. It was Wesley, our friend who was outside waiting to take us to the airport. When it comes to air travel, I am stickler for getting out on time. I hate feeling flustered and rushed, especially when it comes to a long haul flight. And Australia was definitely that.
This was an indirect flight to Perth with a stopover in Singapore. Just over 14 hours total travelling time. Doing a last sweep through our apartment and giving our cat Winnie a quick hug good bye, we were soon heading down the highway towards Pudong International Airport – one of two huge airports in Shanghai.
| | Inside Terminal 2, we savoured the last of the Chinese New Year celebrations we would see with the check-in counters all decorated in festive red lanterns.
My impeccably planned morning meant that we had arrived 20 minutes before the Singapore Airlines check-in desks were opened. We were the first in line. It was my maiden voyage with this Southeast Asian airline of which I had read many good reviews about. Once opened, the counter staff were efficient and within minutes we had our boarding passes to hand.
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First in line at the Singapore Airline's check in.
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Eating Japanese ramen noodles before flying.
| This is me being transparent now. I don’t like flying. I can’t really pin point it to one specific incident, but the thought of being up in the air is enough to quadruple my heart rate in seconds. It’s an uncomfortable feeling but one that I have learnt to harness in over the years. I usually prefer to eat before a flight so at least I know I have my belly semi-full. Our favourite Japanese fast food noodle chain, Ajisen Ramen, had an outlet at the terminal so we went for that.
Oh, and I forgot to add that a couple of days before I had been recovering from a dodgy stomach. I had just about recovered in time for the journey, or so I thought. At gate B10 stood our Boeing 777-300 aircraft. The call for passengers to board came over the tannoy system. Despite my lack of eagerness towards air travel, sitting by a window is must. The cabin inside was spacious with good legroom provided in economy. Each seat had its entertainment screen – something which a lot of Chinese airlines lack. | | The head of cabin crew recited the first few lines of a scripted welcome speech. I usually home in on the weather segment which this time round, I wished I hadn’t. “….and weather on route, we will be experiencing high level turbulence, I mean high level clouds, so there may be some turbulence….” I gave Lezil a defeated look. My hands were clamming with sweat and I was chewing those mint candies like a lifelong pill-popping addict. Why today?
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Our Boeing 777-300 aircraft.
| I have a friend, Gary, who is a pilot for China Eastern airlines. As someone with many years of service he gets placed on most of his company’s long-haul routes. I find our conversations fascinating. Being a pilot to me has to be one of the most mind-testing, responsibility-carrying jobs around. He was telling me that in the last 10 years, the skies over China have seen an alarming increase in clouds. He attributes it to the pollution levels. He stated that it’s practically near impossible now to be able to fly above the cloud level when in Chinese airspace.
| | “Cabin crew, take off stations please…” announced the pilot. The sound of two Rolls Royce engines roared and we powered our way down the runway, nose titled up, and then we were airborne. Quickly climbing up to 10,000 feet Shanghai below, although a partly cloudy day, was under a clearly visible dome of smog. You could even see the definite edges where the intense city smog ended. Quite an eye-opener.
| Despite the opening hiccup weather announcement from the cabin crew head, the flight was pretty smooth sailing. To me, the untrained eye, it seemed like the pilot had nestled the plane just in between two layers of cloud, enough to keep any big jerking movements at bay. Using a few TV episodes and movies to keep me distracted, I checked in regularly on the flight path map to keep a watch of our whereabouts. Going passed Hong Kong and finally we veered away from China mainland, over the South China Sea. The aircraft then climbed from its previous 34,000 up to 36,000. And the skies opened up. No more haziness or clouds. Just an early evening sky with emerging twinkling stars. The pilot had skills. | Touching down at Singapore’s Changi Airport, we stripped off our winter clothing layers from Shanghai. We had a three hour wait for our connecting flight. By this time, I started feeling rough. My stomach was not in the best shape and two trips to the toilet proved it. Great. Nibbling on a few crackers, I curled up on a couch in one of a number of comfortable waiting areas. Despite it being past midnight, the place was buzzing with shoppers, restaurants and entertainment zones.
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Not feeling well at Singapore Changi Airport.
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1am and back on board for round 2 to Perth.
| Back on board, and I was already willing the seconds, minutes and hours to go by as we took off at 1am. Travel when you don’t feel well is the worst. Flying over Indonesia and then over the vast Indian Ocean, I struggled to sleep. My frequent bathroom visits ensured no shut-eye for me. Five hours later and the long-awaited announcement that we would be making our decent into Perth came. It was dawning and the ocean below was beginning to display its brilliant shades of blue.
| | Rapidly descending from our 39,000ft altitude and we got our first glimpse of land – it was Rottnest Island which is located about 18 kilometres from Australia itself. Then the motherland came into view. So flat and basking in glorious sunshine. It was as if the Australian Tourist Board couldn’t have staged a better welcome for a couple of first time visitors like Lezil and I.
Flying into Perth, I was surprised how small it seemed. More like a town, than a city. There were no high-rise buildings to be seen except for the tiny few clustered in Perth’s central business district.
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Rottnest Island - 18kms off the coast of Australia.
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Our first glimpse of huge Australia.
| A smooth touchdown and we taxied our way to the gate. I breathed a sigh of relief. Flying over with for four weeks. It was 6:15am and already the outside temperature was 23C. Nice!
Australian immigration and customs was something else. It took considerable amount of time to clear. Everything was checked and things not allowed in, were immediately disposed of. Lezil’s family – her father, mother, brother and his girlfriend – were all grinning from ear-to-ear as we came through arrivals. Everyone embraced each other, hardly believing that we had finally arrived after much planning over the last six months.
| It was time to adjust to a totally different environment. Less people, no smog (I can now breath without feeling I have a filter blocking my windpipe) and everything around us is in English. Australia, we’re ready! Bring us your best, your bold and your beautiful!
Canning Vale - the Perth suburb where Lezil's parents live. How blue is that sky?! Almost forgot what it looked like after so long in Shanghai...
Lezil reunited with her younger brother, Jesse.
A welcome sign in our bedroom at Lezil's family home.
My lovely wife making me some chicken noodle and vegetable soup for my bad tummy.
Not feeling in the best shape on my first day in Perth.
We all go to Baskin Robbins. Of course, I am not able to eat any ice cream! :(
Happy to be with my in-laws, Dad & Mom Hendricks! All that lovely heaped ice-cream and I can only be a spectator!! :(
Bro & sis shake time!
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