A 2am Rant: Almost nonsensical descriptions we sometimes use without thinking

I found this explanation on the internet which seems to sum up what odd phrases like ‘you can’t judge a book by its cover’ mean: ‘a word or phrase used in a non-literal sense for rhetorical or vivid effect.’

We, as writers, are constantly reminded that we should not use these in our writing because most people might not understand their use.

But, being that unconventional, never-to-be-told type, I honestly think that it sometimes adds a degree of whimsy to the story.

I remember some years ago when I was working with a Russian chap who’d not been in the country very long, and though he had a reasonable use of English, he was not quite up with our figures of speech.

And made me realise when he kept asking me what they meant, just how many I used in everyday conversation.

Most of these figures of speech use descriptions that do not necessarily match the word being described, such as ‘I dance like I have two left feet’.

And that pretty much sums up how good I can dance. But …

‘Like a bat out of hell’, not sure how this got into the vernacular, but it means to get the hell out of dodge quickly. Hang on, that’s another saying, American, and the way Dodge city was in western American folklore, if you irritated a gunslinger, then best be on your way, fast.

Otherwise, yes, you guessed it, you were at the end of another saying, you would get a one-way ticket to Boot Hill. In other words, the cemetery.

And while I’m digressing, again, Yul Brynner made a trip to Boot Hill very memorable in The Magnificent Seven.

Then,

‘Like a bull in a China shop’ describes a toddler let loose

‘More front than Myers’, as my mother used to say, but in context, Myers is the Australian version of the English Selfridges or Harrods or Paris Galleries Lafayette. It refers to the width of the street frontage of the stores

‘As mad as a hatter’, though not necessarily of the millinery kind, but, well, you can guess

‘As nutty as a fruitcake’, provided your fruitcake has nuts in it

You can see, if you get the references, they are somewhat apt, and, yes, they sometimes creep into my stories.

What I learned about writing – What is ‘style’

What Is Style, Anyway? A Deep Dive into Its Many Faces

You hear the word “style” thrown around everywhere. “Oh, she has great style!” “That’s not really my style.” “We need to adopt a new brand style.” But have you ever stopped to consider just how multifaceted and powerful this seemingly simple concept truly is?

From the clothes we wear to the way we craft a sentence, style is an invisible force shaping perception, conveying meaning, and defining identity. Let’s peel back the layers and explore the various aspects that make up the rich tapestry of “style.”

1. Your Signature: Personal Style

This is perhaps the most intimate and immediately recognizable form of style. Your personal style is your unique fingerprint on the world – the way you speak, dress, decorate your home, or even how you approach a problem.

In writing, your personal style is your distinctive voice. It’s the rhythm of your prose, your preferred vocabulary, your unique way of structuring sentences, and the characteristic tone you adopt. It’s what makes a reader say, “Ah, I can tell this is by [Your Name]!” early on in a piece. It’s developed over time, shaped by your experiences, personality, and influences, and it’s what makes your work authentically yours. Whether it’s a dry wit, a poignant lyricism, or a straightforward reportage, your personal style is your artistic DNA.

2. The Blueprint: Categorical & Aesthetic Styles

Beyond the individual, style often manifests in broader categories or aesthetic movements. These are frameworks that have evolved over time, often tied to specific historical periods, philosophies, or artistic intentions.

Think about architecture: you immediately picture different elements for Gothic (soaring arches, intricate details, dramatic light) versus Minimalist (clean lines, functional forms, understated elegance).

In literature, these categorical styles define genres and movements:

Minimalist Prose: Characterised by sparse language, short sentences, and a focus on showing rather than telling. It strips away excess to convey essential meaning.
Gothic Style: Evokes a sense of dread, mystery, and romanticism, often featuring dark settings, supernatural elements, and heightened emotions.
Free Verse: A poetic style that disregards traditional meter and rhyme schemes, allowing the poet to create their own rhythm and structure, often mimicking natural speech patterns.
Stream of Consciousness: A narrative style that attempts to depict the multitudinous thoughts and feelings that pass through the mind.

These styles provide a common language and a set of shared conventions that allow artists and audiences to connect within a recognised context. They are not rigid cages but rather rich traditions from which to draw inspiration or, indeed, to deliberately diverge.

3. The Adaptable Garment: Contextual & Required Style

Sometimes, style isn’t about personal expression or aesthetic preference; it’s about purpose and audience. This is where contextual and required style comes into play – the practical application of tailoring your approach to fit a specific need.

Publisher Guidelines: If you’re submitting a manuscript, adhering to publisher style guides (e.g., APA, MLA, Chicago, or an in-house guide) is non-negotiable. This dictates everything from formatting and citation methods to hyphenation rules and preferred spellings. It ensures consistency, clarity, and professionalism.
Audience-Specific Writing: A story written for a children’s magazine will have a vastly different style than an academic paper or a pulp fiction novel. The vocabulary, sentence structure, themes, and overall tone must be carefully calibrated to resonate with the intended readers. You wouldn’t use complex metaphors for toddlers, nor overly simplistic language for a literary journal.
Platform & Medium Specifics: Articles for a fast-paced online news site demand punchy headlines and concise paragraphs, while a feature in a glossy print magazine might allow for more expansive prose and evocative imagery. Each medium has its own stylistic conventions that best serve its purpose and audience.
Brand Voice: Businesses and organisations develop a “brand style” or “voice” to ensure all their communications are consistent and reflect their identity, whether it’s formal and authoritative or playful and approachable.

This aspect of style is less about artistic freedom and more about effective communication. It’s the mark of a skilled practitioner who understands how to adapt their craft to meet external demands without necessarily sacrificing their core personal style. It’s about being versatile enough to wear many hats.

The Art of Balancing Act

Ultimately, mastering style involves a fascinating dance between these three aspects. How do you maintain your unique personal voice while writing in a minimalist style for a publisher with strict guidelines aimed at a niche audience?

The answer lies in understanding that style is not monolithic but a dynamic interplay. Your personal style forms the foundation; categorical styles offer a palette of expressive tools; and contextual styles provide the framework for effective delivery.

Embrace the journey of discovering your own unique style, explore the vast landscapes of established aesthetics, and cultivate the wisdom to adapt your approach when the situation demands it. For understanding “style” in all its forms, you unlock a powerful key to self-expression, communication, and connection.

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 178/179

Days 178 and 179 – Writing Exercise

The Prince rescuing a damsel needs rescuing himself

…

I was not in the business of saving damsels in distress. In fact, I had not seen a damsel in distress. What I did was live in the shadow of the eldest son and heir to the throne, otherwise known as my brother.

He was the one who would be saving damsels in distress if there were any.

And if he could be bothered.

He had just become a knight after years of training. It was hard, and as the King said, it would make a man of him.

He looked every bit the man his father had expected of him. What bothered me was that our father did not expect it of me, and had rebuffed any and all of my requests to train as a knight.

Instead, I got to dress up as a palace guard, not as a Sergeant at Arms, but just a guard. I had to start at the bottom. In a job that all the other guards thought was a joke.

There were no wars, no battles, no enemy hordes coming up the side of the hill to storm the castle. I didn’t think the drawbridge raised or the main gates closed; it had been so long since they had been used.

No, put simply, my life was hell.

I went out to the stables, put on my guard armour, got on my horse and headed for the main gate. Instead of stopping and reporting for duty, I just kept going. What was the point? Who was I guarding the castle from?

…

It was a long and winding road and a warm day. I was beginning to regret wearing the armour.

I was heading to the next village, half a day’s ride away, and was going to look up Angel, one of the servant girls’ sisters, with whom I had spoken several times. I liked her, but I didn’t think it went both ways.

I may be a prince, but not one worth marrying.

Up ahead, a man was travelling on foot with a woman. In the distance, he looked like he was having trouble with her, so I thought I would be chivalrous and see if she needed help

That became more apparent as I got closer. He was almost dragging her by her hair.

He saw me coming but chose to ignore me. Even in my armour, I was not as impressive a sight as my brother.

I drew alongside. He was not treating her well.

“You will treat this good woman more respectfully, sir.”

They stopped, and he turned. “Who are you, sonny?”

“I am the King’s second son, Richard.”

“Yeah, right, and I’m the King’s brother.”

Insolence. My father rarely tolerated it and had told us it was a problem that had to be handled.

“I am who I say I am.”

“Then prove it.”

I could see he was raring for a fight. I wasn’t. Another adage I was taught was not to get involved in fights that didn’t make sense.

“Give me your word of honour you will treat this woman with the respect she deserves.”

He glared at me. “Respect. I paid good money for this woman, from the owner who said she was nothing but lazy and indolent. I intend to teach her respect.”

“No man can own another person.”

He laughed. “And your King does not own his servants and use them any way he pleases. You are a fool, sonny. Go before I put you to the sword for wasting my time.”

He drew his sword and brandished it in my direction. A direct challenge that could not be ignored.

I slid off my horse, gave him a pat and hoped he would stay put. I walked the ten paces, drawing my sword. I stopped short of the man, now looking slightly more aware.

“What are you doing?” Perhaps he hadn’t expected me to get off my horse.

“You just laid down a challenge. Being a gentleman, I cannot let that pass.”

“You’re going to fight me over this piece of garbage?”

“She is a young lady worthy of your respect, sir. If I have to teach you respect, then I shall.”

He snorted, turned his back, and suddenly came swinging his sword. Unawares, he might have taken my head off.

The girl jumped back out of the way

I was ready, and we exchanged thrusts and parries. His sword was slightly heavier than mine, and the metal clanged at each blow.

I was dressed for a fight. He wasn’t. Nor was he fit, and by the look of him, the worse for wear after many tankards of ale. He didn’t smell very nice.

We exchanged blows until he collapsed. Definitely not fit. I was feeling a little tired too, the exertion under the blue sky making it hot work.

The last thrust had knocked his sword out of his hands, and I pointed the point of mine at his throat.

“I should kill you for being insolent.”

He looked up at me with an odd expression. “Then get on with it. My life isn’t worth living anyway.”

I shrugged and withdrew the sword. “Any other day, maybe. Not today. The truth, how much did you pay for this girl?”

“Five coins,” the girl yelled out. “Don’t let him tell you different.”

“Shut your mouth, wench.”

I dug out 5 coins and put them in his hand. “Get up and leave now before I change my mind.”

He dragged himself to his feet and shook off the dust. Looking at her, he muttered, “Good riddance to bad rubbish. May you never have a day’s luck with her.”

With that, a final glare at her, he walked off.

She sat on the ground and looked at me. “What now?”

“You’re free. You can go anywhere you like.”

“You don’t get it. I’m not free. No matter where I go, someone will own me. I mean, where did you come from? Certainly not around here. No one is free.”

“Well, now you are.”

She shook her head. “I belong to you now. You paid for me. I promise not to be lazy or insolent, not unless you give me reason.”

She stood up and dusted herself off.

“I have no use for you.”

“Where do you live?”

“In Ryebourne Castle.”

“Where the King lives? Are you really a prince?”

“I’m the second son, and of no importance or has any status. I have no need for a servant girl.”

“I can be a companion. You can’t leave me here. Someone just as bad as Harold, or worse, will take me. At least with you I’d be safe.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Then take me to the castle, and I’ll sort out my problem myself.”

I didn’t need a servant girl, I didn’t want a companion, though I knew what she was referring to; my brother took servant girls, and others, for his amusement, and I didn’t agree that it was his right.

But I couldn’t leave her there with nothing.

“The castle. That’s it. You can get some work there. I assume you have worked before?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

I helped her up on the horse, then sat behind her. It might have been my imagination, but she didn’t smell like a servant, but more like the daughter of one of the noblemen in and around the castle.

…

If I were hoping to get to the stables without any sort of recognition, that was dashed in the last few years.

Normally, I attracted very little attention because I never made a big event of mingling with the ‘peasants’ as my brother called them.

The next King was in training, if he could be called that, with him being seen by the people and being involved in castle matters, was always a big event.

He was the magistrate for minor offences, where the King decided on only serious matters.

He dealt with land matters and the employment of people on the farms and in the castle. He was also the Master at Arms for the castle guard.

When not on duty, he could be found in the tavern with several of the noble families’ sons.

This day, he was near the stables with two friends, making life difficult for two of the servant girls who just wanted to get home.

They both knew what he was capable of and what he could do. So was I, and it wasn’t pleasant, but until the King chastised him, nothing would change.

Then he saw me. They made their escape the moment his focus changed.

“Well, what have we here?”

His two friends stood behind him, blocking the short journey to the stables. The stable hand stopped short, not wanting to get involved.

“Have you lost your memory?” I asked, starting with a polite tone.

“Not you, idiot, the young lady.”

“It’s nothing that concerns you.”

“Everything concerns me. Who is she?”

Good question. Up till now, I hadn’t bothered to ask for her name.

“Still none of your business.”

I slid down off the horse and motioned to the stable hand to collect the horse. He came over and took the reins.

The girl was looking at my brother, and it wasn’t a curious look. Perhaps his reputation preceded him.

“Wait for me in the stable,” I said to her. To the stable hand, “Go.”

My brother went to stop him, but I stood in his way. He went to shove me out of his way, but I shoved him first, sending him backwards into the dirt.

I glared at his two friends. “You’d better leave before it becomes a mess you don’t want to be explaining to the King.”

They didn’t need a second invitation, glancing at my brother, shrugging, then scuttling away. It was not the first time my brother and I scuffled in public. A few of the castle people had gathered in groups to watch.

He dragged himself up from the ground and tried to wipe off the dust and dirt. He was very angry, and the red tinges in his cheeks were the first indication.

“You would have been better off staying on the ground,” I said, with far more bravado than I felt.

“Who is she that you would risk my wrath?” There was almost curiosity in his tone.

“Not someone who needs your attention. I simply brought her here to be safe. Apparently, that isn’t one of your main interests.”

“She’s a disgusting, lowly servant girl. She’s nothing to you.”

“She’s a person who deserves respect. I’m sure that’s not a word in your vocabulary, so you wouldn’t understand. You want a fight, good. You can teach me another lesson in humility.”

“And the winner takes all.”

With that, he came at me. I was used to his tactics, once catching me by surprise. He had no rules, no etiquette, and for a supposed Knight of the Realm, no chivalry, unless among his contemporaries.

I dodged in time as he ran past and had to stop quickly. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the girl standing next to the stable hand in the doorway.

She looked concerned.

He came again, after circling, waiting for that moment when I might be distracted. Normally, I would be thinking how bad a beating this was going to be. This time, I was angry.

Not far from me again, I swayed out of the way of his fist and landed a glancing blow that, combined with his momentum, propelled him face-first into the ground, and it made a smacking sound.

Before he could move, I jumped on him, propelling both knees into his back and hearing a satisfying groan as he felt the full weight.

He could not get up, and he could barely move his arms.

I pushed my knees harder into his back. “Are we done?”

“You’ll regret this.”

“I regret being born second every day of my life. But I’m darned if I’m going to let you take anything else from me. You want war, then you’ve got war.”

I got off him and stood up. Then I dragged him to his feet. Blood was streaming from several cuts to his head.

“Winner takes all,” I said. “You’re lucky you didn’t challenge me to a sword fight.”

His squire suddenly appeared, though I suspect he had been watching from close by. “Come, sir, we need to fix those wounds.”

He glowered at me, said nothing, but allowed the squire to take him away.

I was going to pay dearly for this skirmish.

…

I just stood there watching my brother retreat. He only turned once, looking at me over his shoulder, a look that I’d not seen on his face before.

A boy trying to be a man, and coming off only as a bully, who just took a beating. He was the one who, up to now, had handed out the punishment, the big brother, the one we had to look up to.

Losing had never been factored into who he was to become. The fact that a number of the castle people had seen it wasn’t going to make it go away.

The girl, whoever she was, came over to me.

“No one has ever taken my side in anything. Ever. You didn’t have to do that, not against what I think was your older brother. Eldest son? If you are a prince, that makes him…”

“A very sore lover. Don’t remind me.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t see you as a servant, but just another person trying to get on with your life, and we should respect that.”

“That will never really happen. Kings, Queens, noblemen and women, they believe they have the fundamental right to rule. The rest are there just to serve them. We are taught to take what they give us and be thankful.”

I shrugged. “Don’t include me in that lot. I might as well be a peasant as a prince. I have no say and no life to speak of. Less so, now that I just dented the pride of our next King.”

“Not the forgive and forget type?’

“Cedric? No. You’re free now. If you go to the marketplace, someone there will tell you where there’s some work. It won’t be safe for you in the castle. That’s my fault and I’m sorry. By the way, what is your name?”

She smiled. “Anne. You are?”

“Richard. I’m sorry. Maybe if I’d left you alone things might be better. I fear I’ve just made them worse.”

“No. I’m grateful you rescued me. At least I discovered there is one person in this realm who cares about what happens to me. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Besides, you paid five coins for me, so until you sell me to someone else, I’m yours.”

I gave my severest expression. “Neither I nor anyone else, for that matter, can own another person.”

“Not in your world, maybe, but in my world it’s very, very different. Until I can work out what I’m going to do next, I want to stay with you. I’m still, technically, a damsel in distress.”

I shook my head. I wasn’t going to get rid of her anytime soon.

….

There were several ways to get to my quarters in the castle, mercifully in another wing away from all the others. Cedric was near the King and Queen.

Elizabeth and Mary, my sisters, were in another part, and I was as far away from all of them as possible.

My quarters were made up of half a dozen chambers, which made it easier to house her away from me. I was not like my brother, bringing women to his chamber, conveniently forgetting he was betrothed to a princess from a distant kingdom.

I’d considered more than once to take a ride over there and tell her what her prospective husband was up to. Then, it’s probably what all first sons did.

Bertram, my head servant, was on his way to find me, obviously having heard about the scuffle. He stopped short when he saw the girl.

For some odd reason, I got the impression he knew her.

“We have a guest, Bertram. Get the guest room made up. And find Marion, the young lady, will need some clean clothes, and whatever.”

“Yes, sir.” He followed behind. “His Majesty was looking for you this morning. He seems displeased that I could not tell him where you were.”

“He usually doesn’t care.”

“Master Cedric was also looking for you.”

That explained why he was near the stables. He knew I liked to escape and go for a ride. Sometimes I didn’t come back for days. No one usually missed me

As we entered the main hall of my chambers, my mother was sitting down, flanked by two of her ladies’ maids, looking very regal. I knew this was the mother who had been sent to give me a strong talking to.

Before the yelling and posturing, my father was going to hand out.

Except when she saw Anne, she stood and bowed her head.

Anne stopped and looked straight at her. “Hello, Aunty Morgana.”

My mother bowed to no one other than her contemporaries and curtsied only to other Kings.

“You did not send word that you would be visiting. This is highly irregular.”

“It wouldn’t be if you did not have an ass for a son.”

My mother looked at me. “I’m sorry if Richard has treated you badly…”

I was still catching up with the fact that Anne was not a servant girl but a princess.

Anne glared at her, “You are seriously mistaken. Aunt. It’s Cedric who is the ass. Richard is the only one who defended me.”

“That is not possible.” My mother sounded horrified.

“You would be wise not to add to the bad report I am compiling on this Kingdom. I was told Cedric was a kind and gentle man who had the respect of his people, and he respected them. He just tried to beat the one person who defended me, no questions asked, in Cedric’s own words, a disgusting, dirty servant girl. There was no doubt what he intended to do to me if he won that fight. Now, it’s been an arduous and eventful trip to get here, and I need to clean up. Aunt.” For effect, she curtsied, then joined Marion and went to her room.

My mother was left standing open-mouthed.

To say I was astonished was an understatement.

“Where did you find her?” My mother suddenly found her voice.

“On the road from Oberon, in rather dangerous circumstances. I did not know she was a Princess.”

“No. She was never one to trade on her royal status. Feisty, forthright, and what I had hoped would be an excellent match for Cedric.”

“Well, Cedric burned that bridge completely. She will want nothing to do with him.”

“And you?”

“I do not rate in the eligibility stakes for any Princess. I doubt she would give me a second look, let alone a first. Maybe if she were a servant girl…”

She shook her head. “You are worthy of better than that. We shall speak of that later. Right now, your father is livid.”

“Maybe now he’ll rein in that stupid son and try to turn him into a human being, though I suspect it might be too late.”

“What you did was unforgivable.”

“What I did was finally stop taking his nonsense. He got what he deserved. The people have a very low opinion of him, so good luck trying to salvage his reputation.”

“Explain that to your father. He’s waiting in the throne room.”

…

It was the room where the King handed out punishment. It didn’t matter whether it was the lowliest serf or a prince. We all got the same treatment.

There was usually a panel of nobles and officials.

Cedric would be there. Trying and failing to learn that justice was meant to be fair and equitable and not based on personal feeling.

I changed and went straight there. Best not to keep them waiting.

Oddly, this time it was only the King, sitting on the throne. Usually, his Queen joined him, but she was still in my chambers.

He looked up as I entered the room.

I stopped on the edge of the red carpet and stood silently. Speak only when spoken to. Do not embellish. State facts.

Even if he didn’t want to hear them.

“What have you got to say for yourself?” I wouldn’t say it was the angriest I heard from him, but it was clear he was displeased with me.

“Cedric was being an ass.”

“Cedric is still finding his way.”

Cedric was taught all the wrong lessons when he was too young to know better. The lesson I learned from my parents’ failure was to take an active interest in my children’s education.

“Cedric will never find his way unless someone with a proper sense of duty takes him in hand.”

“He is the future King.”

“Then maybe the gods will have mercy on us.”

“You would be wise to change your own attitude, Richard.”

The snort escaped before I could stop it.

“You think this is a joke?”

“Cedric is rapidly becoming one in the eyes of your subjects. What I think is that you should personally take him down to the dungeons and beat him until he promises to be a better person.”

“The people respect him.”

“The people fear him. And so did I until he finally pushed me too far. Do you not wonder why three eligible princesses have turned down offers of marriage? Obviously not.”

Clearly, he had no knowledge of, or hadn’t been told of, his son’s proclivities. It was not for me to say.

He sighed. “We will speak more on this later.”

“As you wish.” I bowed and left a man deep in thought.

…

When I returned, the Queen had gone.

Marion and her handmaidens were bustling over Anne. I retired to my chamber and lay down for a rest. It had been a busy day.

Several hours later, Bernard woke me. Dinner in the main hall was in an hour, and protocol demanded my presence.

I looked around the room, not for the first time, and wondered why I was there. Most mornings, I woke without a purpose.

This time, it was to see an astonishingly different Anne sitting in the seat beside the bed, just looking at me.

“You talk in your sleep.”

“Do I? Anything interesting?”

“You want to be anywhere but here.”

True. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

“I would not have got a clear picture of who you really are, Richard. Knowing I’m a princess tends to change people in very strange ways. Being a disgusting, dirty servant tends to get people to behave exactly how the are. Your brother and half a dozen others like him treated me like scum, you treated me like a princess, and wanted nothing from me in return. In this place, I’m beginning to see, it’s an impossibility to expect any better.”

“I don’t think it’s like that with everyone.”

“Rot starts at the top, Richard, and evidences itself in the firstborn son. I live in a world ruled by men, men who take us for granted, and treat us according to whim, not respect.”

“You came here to judge us.” What else could I assume as her reason for visiting incognito?

“I have been to six other kingdoms in the last year. Not as dramatic an entrance as with you, but things did go a little sideways before we met.”

“You could have been killed or worse.”

“I put my trust in the Gods, and they didn’t let me down.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Go to the hastily arranged banquet in my honour, then go home. Aunty Morgana has sent word for an escort. I was hoping you would come with me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t think you’re that silly.”

“I thought my mother wanted you to marry Cedric.”

“No, that was never her intention.”

Then it dawned on me. My mother had known that I was never going to get out from under Cedric’s shadow unless I had a reason to. Anne was that reason.”

“Would you marry to marry a second son?”

“Would you want to marry a girl who’s always getting into trouble because she prefers adventure to needlework?”

“I’ve only known you for a few hours, enough to know you are infuriating.”

“Then life together isn’t going to be dull, is it?”

It was not.

…

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Shanghai

Shanghai Unveiled: 5 Offbeat Adventures Beyond the Usual Tourist Trail

Shanghai. The name itself conjures images of glittering skyscrapers, historic Bund architecture, and bustling shopping streets. It’s a city of undeniable grandeur, a futuristic metropolis steeped in a fascinating past. Most visitors flock to the Oriental Pearl Tower, wander through Yu Garden, or stroll along Nanjing Road. And while these experiences are certainly iconic, they only scratch the surface of what this incredible city has to offer.

What if you’ve seen the postcard views? What if you crave a deeper connection, a glimpse into the everyday magic and quirky corners that locals cherish? You’ve come to the right place. Pack your sense of adventure, because we’re about to explore the roads less travelled in Shanghai, uncovering five unique experiences that will show you a different side of the “Pearl of the Orient.”

1. Immerse Yourself in Urban Art at M50 Creative Park (Moganshan Road 50)

Just a short walk from the Suzhou Creek, M50 is Shanghai’s answer to New York’s SoHo or London’s Shoreditch. Once a series of derelict industrial buildings and textile mills, this sprawling complex has been cleverly repurposed into a vibrant hub for contemporary art.

Why it’s off the beaten path: While known to art enthusiasts, M50 isn’t on the typical tourist itinerary. It’s not a single attraction but a collection of galleries, studios, and workshops, requiring a willingness to wander and discover.

What makes it special: You’ll find everything from cutting-edge installations and abstract paintings to photography exhibitions and quirky design shops. Many artists work on-site, offering a chance to see them in action or even purchase unique pieces directly. The raw, industrial backdrop provides a stark contrast to the sleek art, creating a unique atmosphere. Grab a coffee, chat with a gallerist, and let the creative energy inspire you.

Pro Tip: Look out for street art and graffiti that constantly change on the exterior walls, adding another layer to the artistic experience. Weekdays are generally quieter if you prefer a more contemplative visit.

2. Step Back in Time at the Shanghai Propaganda Poster Art Centre

Tucked away in the basement of a nondescript apartment building in the former French Concession, this private museum is a fascinating, if somewhat clandestine, journey into China’s revolutionary past.

Why it’s off the beaten path: Blink and you’ll miss the subtle entrance! There are no grand signs, and finding it often feels like you’re on a secret mission. It’s certainly not listed in every guidebook.

What makes it special: This veritable treasure trove houses an incredible collection of original propaganda posters from the early days of the People’s Republic of China, through the Cultural Revolution, and beyond. The posters are vibrant, historically significant, and incredibly rare. They offer a unique, visual narrative of a pivotal era, showcasing the artistic styles and political messages that shaped a nation. It’s a poignant and thought-provoking experience, often leaving visitors with a deeper understanding of modern Chinese history.

Pro Tip: Be prepared to ring a doorbell at the address (Room B, 868 Huashan Road) and navigate a residential complex. Photography is usually allowed without flash in most areas, but always double-check.

3. Dive into Local Life at a Bustling Wet Market

Forget souvenir shops; for a true taste of authentic Shanghai life, head to a local wet market. These vibrant, sensory-overload hubs are where locals buy their fresh produce, meat, fish, and unique regional ingredients.

Why it’s off the beaten path: This isn’t a “sight” in the traditional sense, but an immersive cultural experience. It can be loud, a little messy, and overwhelming for some, but that’s precisely its charm.

What makes it special: The sheer energy is infectious. Watch vendors expertly butcher meat, bargain over piles of colourful fruits and vegetables, and marvel at the exotic array of seafood, some of which you’ve probably never seen before. It’s a kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, and smells, offering an unfiltered glimpse into the daily routines of Shanghai residents. You might even discover some incredible street food stalls outside the market selling freshly made noodles, dumplings, or steamed buns.

Pro Tip: Go in the morning when the markets are most active and the produce is freshest. Popular options include the Wulumuqi Road Wet Market or smaller ones nestled in local neighbourhoods around the former French Concession. Be respectful, don’t block aisles, and be open to new sensory experiences!

4. Find Serenity at Longhua Temple & Pagoda

While Yu Garden’s classical beauty draws crowds, the Longhua Temple offers a more contemplative and authentic Buddhist experience. Located a bit further south, it’s Shanghai’s oldest and largest Buddhist complex, boasting a history that dates back nearly 1,800 years.

Why it’s off the beaten path: It requires a short Metro ride out of the absolute city centre, making it less convenient for quick tourist dashes. This results in fewer crowds and a more peaceful atmosphere.

What makes it special: The temple complex features several grand halls, each housing impressive statues of Buddha and various deities, as well as beautifully manicured gardens. The most striking feature is the magnificent 7-story Longhua Pagoda, an elegant brick and wood structure that is one of the few examples of ancient pagoda architecture remaining in Shanghai. Explore the grounds, listen to the rhythmic chanting of monks, and watch locals offer prayers, giving you a sense of ancient spirituality amidst the modern urban sprawl.

Pro Tip: Visit during a Buddhist festival for a more lively experience with special ceremonies and offerings, but avoid it if you prefer quiet reflection. The Vegetarian Restaurant within the temple grounds offers a delicious and authentic temple-fare lunch.

5. Ride the Local Ferry for Unbeatable Skyline Views (Without the Price Tag)

Forget expensive Huangpu River cruises! For a truly local and incredibly cheap experience with equally stunning views of Shanghai’s iconic skyline, hop on one of the regular commuter ferries.

Why it’s off the beaten path: Most tourists are directed to the fancier cruise ships. The local ferries are simply a means of transport for residents crossing the river, making them a genuine “road less travelled” experience.

What makes it special: For just a few yuan, you can glide across the Huangpu River, enjoying panoramic vistas of both the historic Bund on the Puxi side and the futuristic Pudong skyline (Oriental Pearl Tower, Shanghai Tower, Jin Mao Tower) on the other. It’s an unpretentious, unhurried way to soak in the city’s breathtaking architecture, rub shoulders with locals, and feel the pulse of Shanghai’s daily life, all while getting incredible photo opportunities.

Pro Tip: Take the ferry from the Bund (near Chenyi Square) to Pudong, especially around sunset, for the most dramatic views as the city lights begin to twinkle. You can pay with a Shanghai Public Transportation Card or exact change (usually 2-3 RMB).

Shanghai is a city that constantly reinvents itself, but its true magic often lies just beyond the well-trodden paths. By venturing into these less-explored corners, you’ll not only discover hidden gems but also gain a richer, more authentic understanding of this dynamic metropolis. So, next time you’re in this incredible city, dare to take the road less travelled – you might just find your new favourite Shanghai memory.

What hidden gems have YOU uncovered in Shanghai? Share your tips in the comments below!

In a word: Pad

Here is another of those three-letter words that can have so many meanings that it is nigh on impossible to pin it down.

You have to use it in a sentence that all but explains it.

For instance,

A pad might be a writing pad, or a note pad, something on which you can write, notes, stories, anything really, even doodles.

Cats, dogs, and a lot of animals have padded feet. I’d say, for a cat, those pads would be like shock absorbers.

You can pad an expense account with false expenditure in an accounting sense; I’m sure a lot of people are tempted to do so.

I know places where a single man might live are called a bachelor pad. So many men like to think they may have one, but it takes money to buy the accoutrements of seduction.

Then there’s a medical dressing, a square of gauze called a pad, usually absorbent and soaked in disinfectant to help protect and repair a wound.

Shoulder pads, for broader shoulders

Knee pads, for when crashing off a bike

Shin pads for soccer and ice hockey players

A helipad, which is for helicopter landings and takeoffs, much the same as a launch pad for rockets. Unfortunately, rockets do not generally have a tendency to land, not unless they are bombs, like the V1 and V2 rockets of WW2.

It could also be someone walking around a house in socks, the man stealthily approached the thief, padding silently in his socks so he wouldn’t be heard.

And lastly,

A place for frogs to hang out, ie, the flat leaves of a water Lilly.

Any more?

I’m sure there is, just let me know.

Inspiration, maybe – Volume 1

50 photographs, 50 stories, of which there is one of the 50 below.

They all start with –

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like. For instance:

And the story:

…

It was once said that a desperate man has everything to lose.

The man I was chasing was desperate, but I, on the other hand, was more desperate to catch him.

He’d left a trail of dead people from one end of the island to the other.

The team had put in a lot of effort to locate him, and now his capture was imminent. We were following the car he was in, from a discreet distance, and, at the appropriate time, we would catch up, pull him over, and make the arrest.

There was nowhere for him to go.

The road led to a dead-end, and the only way off the mountain was back down the road we were now on. Which was why I was somewhat surprised when we discovered where he was.

Where was he going?

“Damn,” I heard Alan mutter. He was driving, being careful not to get too close, but not far enough away to lose sight of him.

“What?”

“I think he’s made us.”

“How?”

“Dumb bad luck, I’m guessing. Or he expected we’d follow him up the mountain. He’s just sped up.”

“How far away?”

“A half-mile. We should see him higher up when we turn the next corner.”

It took an eternity to get there, and when we did, Alan was right, only he was further on than we thought.”

“Step on it. Let’s catch him up before he gets to the top.”

Easy to say, not so easy to do. The road was treacherous, and in places, just gravel, and there were no guard rails to stop a three-thousand-foot fall down the mountainside.

Good thing then, I had the foresight to have three agents on the hill for just such a scenario.

Ten minutes later, we were in sight of the car, still moving quickly, but we were going slightly faster. We’d catch up just short of the summit car park.

Or so we thought.

Coming quickly around another corner, we almost slammed into the car we’d been chasing.

“What the hell…” Aland muttered.

I was out of the car and over to see if he was in it, but I knew that it was only a slender possibility. The car was empty, and no indication of where he had gone.

Certainly not up the road. It was relatively straightforward for the next mile, at which we would have reached the summit. Up the mountainside from here, or down.

I looked up. Nothing.

Alan yelled out, “He’s not going down, not that I can see, but if he did, there’s hardly a foothold and that’s a long fall.”

Then where did he go?

Then a man looking very much like our quarry came out from behind a rock embedded just a short distance up the hill.

“Sorry,” he said quite calmly. “Had to go if you know what I mean.”

I’d lost him.

It was as simple as that.

I had been led a merry chase up the hill, and all the time he was getting away in a different direction.

I’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book, letting my desperation blind me to the disguise that anyone else would see through in an instant.

It was a lonely sight, looking down that road, knowing that I had to go all that way down again, only this time, without having to throw caution to the wind.

“Maybe next time,” Alan said.

“We’ll get him. It’s just a matter of time.”

…

Find this and other stories in “Inspiration, maybe”, available soon.

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Beijing

The Beijing Beyond the Wall: 5 Unforgettable Adventures on the Road Less Travelled

Beijing is a city of superlatives. Its imperial history shouts from the rooftops of the Forbidden City, and its sheer physical scale is awe-inspiring as you gaze upon the Great Wall. But what happens when you step off the imperial highway?

The true heart of Beijing—dynamic, quirky, and deeply authentic—often hides beneath the surface, skipped over by tour buses and rushed itineraries.

If you’re ready to trade the packed crowds for local flavour and spectacular solitude, lace up your comfortable shoes. Here are the top five unforgettable experiences for the seasoned traveller seeking the authentic, road-less-travelled side of China’s grand capital.

1. Conquer the Dragon: Hiking the Wild Great Wall at Jiankou

Forget the perfectly manicured, accessible sections like Badaling or Mutianyu. For a truly visceral, historical experience, head northeast to the Jiankou (Arrow Nock) section of the Great Wall.

Jiankou is the definition of “unrestored.” It clings precariously to steep mountain ridges, with crumbling parapets, overgrown foliage, and towers that look ready to tumble. This is the Wall as it stood centuries ago, demanding respect and fitness.

The hike is challenging—it involves scrambling up steep rock faces (like the infamous ‘Heavenly Ladder’) and navigating slippery slopes—but the reward is solitude and arguably the most dramatic photographic views of the entire structure. Standing here, with views stretching uninterrupted into the misty mountains, you truly feel the weight of history in your palms.

Why it’s on the list: You won’t encounter souvenir vendors or large crowds. It’s an intimate, strenuous dialogue with one of the greatest manmade structures on Earth.

Pro Tip: This is not a sanctioned tourist site. Go with an experienced local guide, wear appropriate hiking boots (not sneakers), and plan for a full day. Begin your trek early to avoid the mid-day heat and finish before sunset.

2. Unearth Treasures at Panjiayuan Antique Market (The Sunday Sunrise Hunt)

If you want a genuine glimpse into the organised chaos and bartering culture of Beijing, bypass the shiny malls and head to the Panjiayuan Antique Market (潘家园).

While the market is open throughout the week, the real magic happens on Sunday mornings, starting just before dawn. This is when dealers from across China descend upon the sprawling grounds, laying out everything from delicate porcelain and jade jewellery to Cultural Revolution memorabilia, old propaganda posters, and surprisingly beautiful second-hand furniture.

The energy is infectious. Vendors hawk their wares, locals sip hot soy milk, and the air crackles with negotiation. Whether you’re searching for a genuine Ming Dynasty relic (unlikely, but fun to look!) or just a quirky, affordable souvenir with a story, Panjiayuan offers a fascinating glimpse into China’s material history.

Why it’s on the list: It’s a sensory immersion. It’s loud, crowded, dusty, and absolutely bursting with character. It’s where Beijing locals shop for history, not just tourists.

Pro Tip: Arrive by 6:30 AM on Sunday. The best items are snapped up quickly by serious collectors. Don’t be afraid to barter fiercely; it’s expected (start at 30-40% of the asking price).

3. The Tranquil Chaos: Exploring the Wudaoying Hutong District

Everyone knows Nanluoguxiang, but for the traveller seeking the intersection of traditional Beijing charm and contemporary cool, Wudaoying Hutong (五道营胡同) is the hidden gem.

Located just north of the Yonghegong Lama Temple, Wudaoying retains the narrow alleyways and courtyard houses (siheyuan) of old Beijing, but its atmosphere is worlds apart. Instead of mass-market merchandise, you’ll find independent coffee roasters, minimalist clothing boutiques, vegan cafés, and stylish bars carved out of traditional architecture.

Spend an afternoon wandering the adjacent quiet backstreets, observing elderly residents playing chess or hanging laundry, then duck into a courtyard café for a specialised tea ceremony. This area perfectly encapsulates modern Beijing life, respecting its ancient roots.

Why it’s on the list: It offers a peaceful, aesthetically pleasing alternative to the hyper-touristy hutongs, allowing you to sample contemporary Chinese lifestyle without losing touch with history.

Pro Tip: Pair your visit with an hour at the adjacent Lama Temple (Yonghegong). This adds a powerful historical and spiritual contrast to the area’s trendy vibe.

4. The Poignant Ruins of Yuanmingyuan (The Old Summer Palace)

While the Summer Palace (Yiheyuan) is rightly famous for its picturesque gardens and restored temples, we recommend visiting its scarred, more historically resonant counterpart: Yuanmingyuan (圆明园), the Old Summer Palace.

Once hailed as the “Garden of Gardens,” Yuanmingyuan was an unparalleled imperial complex renowned for its vast gardens and magnificent collection of European-style palaces and fountains. It was tragically destroyed by British and French troops in 1860 during the Second Opium War.

Today, the sprawling grounds are a poignant national memorial. The ruins of the European palaces stand as dramatically skeletal remains—marble arches and broken fountain heads swallowed by lush foliage. It’s a powerful, melancholy place that speaks volumes about China’s century of humiliation and resilience.

Why it’s on the list: It’s a cultural necessity. It offers deep context to modern Chinese history and provides vast, beautiful parkland often bypassed by international tourists.

Pro Tip: Focus your exploration on the western-most section (the European-style ruins) for the most dramatic photographs and historical reflection.

5. Get Lost (Intentionally) in the 798 Art District

The 798 Art District (Dashanzi) is well-known, but the “road less travelled” experience here is achieved through timing and focus.

During the mid-day rush, 798 can feel commercial. To truly appreciate its industrial-chic aesthetic—old Bauhaus-style factories transformed into sprawling galleries and studios—you need to visit at the margins of the day.

Arrive just as the galleries open (10:00 AM) or linger into the late afternoon (4:00 PM onward). Skip the large, famous galleries and dive into the smaller, independent warehouses. Look for emerging Chinese artists pushing boundaries in installation art, experimental photography, and sculpture. Getting intentionally lost in the alleys and stumbling upon an avant-garde exhibition is the goal.

Why it’s on the list: It shows the incredible creative dynamism of contemporary China, offering a sharp, modern contrast to the imperial history found elsewhere.

Pro Tip: Look beyond the main streets. Many smaller, edgier studios are housed in the back alleys and second-floor mezzanines hidden behind large gallery facades. If you see a rickety staircase, climb it.

Beijing is a city that rewards the curious and the bold. By stepping away from the standard itinerary, you don’t just see China—you engage with its history, its culture, and its vibrant, unpredictable present. Happy travels on the road less travelled!

First Dig Two Graves

A sequel to “The Devil You Don’t”

…

Revenge is a dish best served cold – or preferably so when everything goes right

Of course, it rarely does, as Alistair, Zoe’s handler, discovers to his peril. Enter a wildcard, John, and whatever Alistair’s plan for dealing with Zoe was dies with him.

It leaves Zoe in completely unfamiliar territory.

…

John’s idyllic romance with a woman who is utterly out of his comfort zone is on borrowed time. She is still trying to reconcile her ambivalence after being so indifferent for so long.

They agree to take a break, during which she disappears. John, thinking she has left without saying goodbye, refuses to accept the inevitable and calls on an old friend for help in finding her.

After the mayhem and being briefly reunited, she recognises an inevitable truth: there is a price to pay for taking out Alistair; she must leave and find them first, and he would be wise to keep a low profile.

But keeping a low profile just isn’t possible, and enlisting another friend, a private detective and his sister, a deft computer hacker, they track her to the border between Austria and Hungary.

What John doesn’t realise is that another enemy is tracking him to find her too. It could have been a grand tour of Europe. Instead, it becomes a race against time before enemies old and new converge for what will be an inevitable showdown.