Saturday, October 22 – Shanghai

In view of the steady rain, which was forecast to keep up all day, Leo suggested that we add another indoor activity to the day’s itinerary: a ride on the Shanghai Maglev Train. This is the super-high-speed magnetic levitation train that runs from a suburban city subway stop for about 30 kilometers to Pudong International Airport. It uses high-powered electro-magnets to levitate the train a few inches above the track bed. Without friction to slow it, the train can reach speeds up to 431 kph. (The fastest conventional high-speed trains can get to about 300 kph.) According to Wikipedia, Shanghai’s is the first commercially operated magnetic levitation line, and the only one that reaches such high speeds. The downside? This one 30-km stretch cost over $1.5 U.S. to build. It’s really more a demonstration of the technology.

Leo explained that the Chinese government had chosen a German-developed magnetic levitation system, rather than the original Japanese technology, which is less expensive and generally considered superior. The reason, although he didn’t explain it in exactly this way, is that the Chinese still bitterly hate the Japanese for the abuses suffered during the military occupation of the 1930s and 40s. There are a few modern-day bones of contention between the two nations too, not the least of them the Japanese government’s stubborn refusal to admit culpability for one of the worst of those abuses, the massacre of thousands of civilians in Nanking on December 13, 1937.

The outing would cost us $30 per person, to cover the return coach trip to the station and train fare. It was mostly some of the guys in the group who were keen, I think, infected by Leo’s enthusiasm. He seemed to feel real pride that this was something only available in Shanghai, which he considers his city because he had lived here for years. (He lives down the road in Huzhou now.) He’s also a bit of a technology nerd. Cathy piped up, saying she had been impressed by the Maglev the previous year. She and Nino took it to the airport when they were leaving the city to fly back to Beijing. Everybody else, us included, went along with what we assumed the majority wanted.

Maglev train

The train ride was mildly impressive, mostly because you didn’t get much sense of moving very fast. It’s smooth and quiet, except briefly near the end when the train goes around a wide curve and we felt some jiggling. Also at one point, we passed a train going the other way on an adjacent track. There was a thump, a momentary darkening of the windows and a little shudder. That was it. Part of the reason for the lack of a sense of speed is that there isn’t much near the elevated line. When you look out the windows, you mainly see distant vistas of low-rise industrial buildings. Each of the sleek, modern cars, though, is fitted with an LED speedometer readout. I think the train hit 424 kph on our ride. It only maintained that speed for a few minutes before starting to slow again for the airport. The whole trip took less than eight minutes. At the airport, we stayed on the train, switched seats so we’d be facing the right way for the return trip, and rode back into the city. Very quickly.

                                   

Maglev track bed, looking towards airport

From the Maglev station, we drove to a repulsive shopping centre – like a rabbit warren for humans, built around a subway station. This was Karen’s and my idea of hell. Like hell, it was underground, too hot and stuffy. And like hell, we were constantly tormented by demons – in this case, wandering hucksters, in our faces, barking. “Watch? Rolex watch? You want Rolex watch? What kind watch you want?” Leo had shown us where we should meet and told us to take the next two hours to shop. Oh joy! Two hours! While others gleefully set off to look for the supposed bargains, Karen and I wandered glumly, with no idea where we were most of the time, eyes glazed. Seething.

The merchandise – everything from wedding dresses to furniture to kitchen wares – looked to be mostly cheap junk. Not that we stopped to look closely. There was a lot of cheap clothing certainly. At some shops, they could fit you for a custom-tailored suit, and deliver it to your hotel the next morning or that night. But to get a real bargain at any of the shops, you had to haggle. The first price, Leo warned us, was never the one they really expected to get. If shopping is hell, then having to dicker to get a fair price is – worse. We did not partake.

At one point, just to get some fresh air, Karen and I stood in an open doorway for ten minutes. It gave on a square with an interesting sculpture in the middle. On the far side, almost lost in the now driving rain, was the Shanghai Science Museum, a fantastic piece of modern architecture. Why couldn’t we have gone there instead? After an hour of aimlessly wandering the cluttered corridors, we took refuge in a restaurant that served western food.

Shanghai Science Museum, from entrance to underground shopping arcade

Other members of our group shored up there as well, the odd non-shopper and the shopped out. One man who had refused to accompany his wife spent almost the entire two hours there. A friendly fellow with an American-sounding voice, he had struck up a conversation with a Chinese father and his young daughter. They were sitting at the table between his and ours. From what I could hear, it was mostly a one-sided conversation. The father had hardly any English, and looked uncomfortable. The girl, who was maybe nine or ten, looked down shyly most of the time. But she could speak and understand a little. She was learning at school. I didn’t really hear her say anything, though. Ralph and Pat wandered in after awhile and sat with us. The food when it came was surprisingly decent, and not too expensive. Karen had a pizza and I had a sandwich – a nice break from Chinese.  

We met Leo at the appointed hour and escaped from hell – although it was more a case of ‘out of the frying pan and into the deluge.’ The rain was still coming down steadily, if not quite as hard. We trooped a couple of blocks to where the bus was waiting, and drove to the Bund. By the time we got there, the rain had let up enough that we could stroll along the waterside walkway without umbrellas. Leo pointed out the second tallest building in the world on the far side of the river. The Shanghai Tower is 632 m (2,073 ft) high, with 128 floors. We could probably see fewer than 100 of the floors. The tops of the tall buildings were all lost in low-hanging smog. Karen and I wandered down the river, then after ten minutes, back, snapping pictures along the way.

Views from the Bund

After the paltry 25 minutes allotted for this activity, we rejoined the group where we’d started out, and walked ten minutes or so away from the river to the Yuyuan Garden, a famous Ming Dynasty retreat, similar to the Lingering Garden we had seen in Suzhou. It’s in the heart of an attractive old-town pedestrian shopping district, with traditional Chinese architecture, posh-looking shops – and the inevitable Starbucks and McDonald's.

Shanghai, Yuyuan Garden

Leo, sensing that some of the group were less than enthralled with the prospect of touring another classical Chinese garden, gave us the option of shopping or garden viewing. Several opted for shopping. We arranged a meeting place, in front of a Starbucks, and Leo led the rest of us into the garden. Rain was spitting down now, and time was apparently very tight. It was another forced march through the garden, similar to the one along the Ming Tomb Sacred Path in Beijing. I had little time for careful photography, and was still constantly lagging. Leo barely stopped. The garden, first built in 1559, is lovely, with buildings in classical Chinese style, pools and canals filled with goldfish, pavilions and bridges and viewing platforms, stone walls and statues, and lush greenery. But very few blooms. We enjoyed what we saw, but were frustrated again to be so rushed.

Shanghai, Yuyuan Garden

And as it turned out, the rushing was completely unnecessary. We emerged and found the meeting place, but for some reason, it was then decided we should shop some more. Woohoo! Perhaps the garden viewers were demanding a crack at the shops. It was raining steadily now. Karen and I found a place to stand and wait under an overhang. We were immediately accosted by a beggar, an old woman in tattered clothes. We told her we didn’t have any money (true), but she persisted. We walked away and found another place to shelter, but she turned up there a few minutes later, cackling at our discomfort. We moved on again, and waited out the rest of the time under dripping eaves. By this point, we were royally pissed off. But what could we say or do? This was evidently what most people in the group wanted to be doing. We were the odd ones out.

We walked to the waiting bus in the rain, and started back to the hotel. Leo mentioned that there had been another planned shopping excursion, to Nanjing Road, a popular high-end pedestrian street just off the Bund. I think he had pretty much decided to skip that one, but he gave us the option. Thank goodness nobody was interested. We drove past the end of it and looked down to see a seething mass of umbrellas on the sidewalks. Ugh!

It was still a couple of hours before the departure for our scheduled evening activity, a boat ride on the river to view the lights of Shanghai. Karen rested, and I tried again, still without much success, to get some good pictures of the nighttime skyline. Dinner was not provided this night. Some in the group, we heard later, braved the rain and walked a few blocks to a restaurant. Some found groceries to take back to their room. Karen and I ate nuts and seeds and fruit left from breakfast. At the appointed time, we all met again in the lobby and got on the bus. But a rebellion was brewing.

Shanghai, view from 22nd-floor hotel room

When we arrived at the boat dock, it was teeming rain, and there were hundreds of people waiting outside to get on the tour boats, another sea of jostling umbrellas. We waited while Leo went off to find out about tickets. He came back to report that it would be an hour and a half wait – in the rain. There was some grumbling at this, so poor Leo went out again, and came back with a promise that we could board 15 minutes earlier. At this point, almost as one, we told him, no, we’re not doing it. What would the point have been? We’d have miserable time, and wouldn’t be able to see anything for the rain and fog. No, we wanted to return to the hotel. 

Leo was shaken by this, didn’t know what to do. This was one of the optional activities for which we’d paid $60 each in advance. I think he was worried we might expect our money back, which he knew his employers would refuse. He told us he was afraid he would get in trouble with his boss if we didn’t go. We dug our heels in. Cathy offered to write a letter to his company, explaining the circumstances and releasing him from responsibility for the decision. This calmed him a little, and we drove back to the hotel. The next morning would be another ridiculously early start as we were flying to Xi’an. The last thing we needed was a late night.