IMR: Entries: 2001: October: 18 — Thursday, October 18, 2001

Late Escape We finally got out, once at least, to see some of the city. And Shanghai is incredible.   Our hotel, the St. Regis, from the outside. Pedestrians do not get much respect here. The Nanpu Bridge (the tunnels are closed). Entering the core of Shanghai city. The Grand Hyatt Shanghai, the tallest. Our late lunching spot, "M on the Bund." Known for its view, but the food was good. The view of Pudong from the Bund. A conference center on the river. Shanghai now stretches for miles. APEC events fill the streets. Walking the Bund, Shanghai's pride. Lots of old, European designs. Lots of unique, Western architecture. The rings are the city's new logo. The historic Peace Hotel in Shanghai. A young boy and his paper boat. China's crowded Huangpu River. Eat at Grand Mother Dumpling. An immaculate, staffed public toilet. Insert token tourist postcard shot. Pepsi makes up for Coke's dominance. Windows XP, everywhere indeed. The night skyline, again, from my room. I take a leisurely stroll around town. A busy street of restaurants and clubs. One of the more popular dance spots. The hotel, once more, at night. Our meeting wrapped up at noon on Thursday, and just about every one of our delegates packed up and headed into APEC events, so after we tore everything down and packed everything up, we found ourselves with the better part of the afternoon free. Just when we were starting to wonder what we could do, our Malaysian director popped in and invited us out to lunch. Taking a tip from the concierge, we made reservations at a place called "M on the Bund" — a famous restaurant affiliated with top Asian chef Michelle Garnaut. We got into two separate cabs, and we were off. New York cab drivers have nothing on these guys. Shanghai taxi drivers are just as insane, weaving, jumping curbs, coming within centemeters of buses, poles, and pedestrians (it was starting to feel like a "whack a biped" video game for a while there), but they also consider divided highway lines merely suggestions, not boundaries. Hurtling down some narrow streets, to get around mopeds or bicyclists, we spent more time on looking into oncoming traffic than we did on the right side of the street. We learned quickly, though, that cab drivers everywhere have a great deal in common. Even though we knew, before we left Honolulu — let alone through announcements made many times during our meetings — that the tunnels under the Huangpu River were closed, it seemed to take our driver completely by surprise. So, of course, we had to turn around and backtrack halfway through Pudong before getting onto the Nanpu Bridge. In other words, we were being taken for a ride. I think I might be cursed. Eventually, though, we found the place. It had a rather dark, unassuming little entrance, and access required a ride in a very dimly lit steel elevator, but when we got up to the restaurant proper, we knew we were in the right place. It was certainly classier than we were dressed, for one, but most striking was the view the place had of the river, and of the striking Pudong business district across the way. We were on The Bund — Zhongshan Road — one of the most famous waterfronts in China. The Pearl Tower and the other shiny glass and steel buildings across the way were striking, but the buildings to both sides of us were even more incredible. The architecture was more varied than anywhere else I've seen, even Hong Kong. Many of the buildings were easily a century old, and had the majesty of any structure in London, Germany or Russia. (Commerce in the area was all but overrun by Europeans at the turn of the century.) Yet mixed among the massive columns and clock towers are distinctly modern, subtly Asian constructs of blue- and gold-tinted glass, arcs and spheres, and miles of neon. To the west of our lookout was the heart of The Bund, and the core of where most of the APEC events were being held. There the sidewalks were packed with people, and the security staff and their vehicles were positioned four deep. Glad to not be anywhere near the crush of foreign humanity, we set about eating. Decidedly Western cuisine, but man was it good. I had a simple, thick slab of Australian steak. Most of my colleagues went for the smoked salmon. Our Malaysian host picked the quaintly-named "pretty fishy fry up." We gushed and sampled everyone else's dishes. While we ate, we already started plotting out our next meeting, the dates and location only decided a month ago. We know a massive task awaits simply because we usually have two years of planning behind every conference, whereas this one — scheduled for the first week of May 2002 in Kuala Lumpur — gives us just over 8 months. The lunch was in part a thanks in advance, in part an apology for the sheer hell we would be putting each other through in the too-near future. The food was so good, our host made reservations then and there for dinner later that day, for which she would bring other members of her national delegation. And as we left, we bumped into the chef herself — Julie Roper, fantastically a purple-haired young lady from Australia. Deliriously stuffed, we headed out onto The Bund itself. We crossed (under) the street to the waterfront, and just strolled leisurely west. We picked favorite buildings, watched other people (there is, in fact, a fair amount of PDA in China), and took lots of pictures. The city was one big APEC party, but in every corner, we could see the 2008 Olympic Games lurking. We admired, but did not patronize, a small restaurant called "Grand Mother Dumpling" (or "Grandmother Dumpling," depending on which sign you believed). Some of us simply could not resist trying out one of the staffed public toilets along The Bund, where you paid for the toilet paper but were rewarded with — according to Bernice — toilets more immaculate than the cleanest toilets in Tokyo. And we were impressed by what must have been billions of dollars worth of corporate advertising, including an entire city street lined from end to end with Pepsi logos, and a slowly moving river barge carrying nothing but a massive, billboard-sized ad for Microsoft XP. We bumped into staffers from our Colombian and Japanese offices, and made tentative plans to hit some of the nightspots after dark. Then, after the crowds got too thick, we headed back the way we came, and searched just a little too long for an available taxi to take us back over to our hotel in Pudong. The return trip wasn't half as scenic (and therefore cost half as much) as our first ride, and we all retired to our rooms for much-desired naps and showers. I was intercepted in the lobby by Roderick (the intern who came with us, and who was roped into staying for some APEC events since I wasn't able to), though, and first had to get a couple of things together for him. All work vanished by the time the sun set, though, and after another glorious hot rainforest shower, I just stretched out, put CNN on mute, and played more Cake on the laptop. Sylvia called with an update on our evening plans, which suddenly now involved dancing. "That doesn't sound so hot," I said, "especially since I might get arrested for it." She concurred. And soon enough, we canceled. That was it for the night... almost. Feeling restless, I decided to head out on my own, on foot. Not too far, just around, always keeping the hotel in view. Apart from the fact that I looked the wrong way stepping off a curb and nearly got creamed by a flock of hotel girls on bicycles, it was great wandering about. I circled the cluster of hotels by three or four blocks, then walked along any street with lots of people and lots of lights. There were nightclubs and restaurants and more than a few stores selling everything from electronic parts to fur coats and vases. Just before heading back, I popped into a CD/DVD shop and marveled at all the pirated movies, films not even yet out in the U.S., and straight digital copies of older films selling for about three dollars. As I wandered, I listened to the Chinese music they were blasting over the speakers, and twice asked them what was playing. Both times, I ended up buying the CD: "Yi Ren Yi Shou Cheng Ming Qu of Men" (I'm not sure where the band name ends and the album name begins) and "Lucky Number" by Jolin Tsai. I listened to both while packing. I don't understand a word on either disc (except when they do covers, like Jolin's "Bridge over Troubled Water"), but I like them. Jolin's "Ru Guo Bu Xiang Yao" (track four) stuck in my head the deepest — I fell asleep to it on repeat — and it will definitely be what reminds me of this trip. Ru Guo Bu Xiang Yao RealAudio 4:12/650k

Comments It's great when the government builds the buildings -- forget practicality or worrying about making a profit, the skyline looks like Disneyland! :) —Lani (October 21, 2001 11:22 AM) E kala mai! Comments have been disabled due to overwhelming abuse by spammers. Please click through to any of the video hosting services linked above to leave a public response, or feel free to send an e-mail. Mahalo! < October 17 · October · October 21 > © 1997-2008 Ryan Kawailani Ozawa · E-Mail: imr@lightfantastic.org · Created: 13 November 1997 · Last Modified: 14 January 2008