The old Shanghai refers to a small area of Shanghai that used to be walled in and remained that way until about 1912 when all but a small section of the wall was demolished. With the advent of the concessions, Old Shanghai became the administrative center until later when it became a shopping complex.
Now it has many restored historical buildings as well as new buildings in a somewhat traditional style that has become one of Shanghai’s main tourist attractions, housing many shops and restaurants.
The “Old Town” is not exclusively old, as you still have a chance to take in the atmosphere if you wander into the quaint side streets.
But, on first viewing walking down the street towards the complex, I’m not sure I’d go as far as to say this is in reality old Shanghai, except for what appears to be a true representation of it architecturally.
The buildings, which are shops and restaurants, are set out symmetrically, with streets, alleyways, and squares which may prove that it was specially built for the tourists, and no mechanized traffic.
Anyway…
The buildings are magnificent, and a photographer’s delight, and you’d finish up having hundreds of photos by the time you leave. All the buildings are exquisite representations of traditional Chinese architecture.
As for buying stuff, remember if you’re not Chinese you have the sucker tourist stamp on your forehead, so be prepared to walk away if the vendors will not bargain.
Nothing here is worth the price tag and in our group discounts like from 130 RMB to 50 RMB and from 1 for 1,200 to 2 for 950 RMB are common.
Here common t-shirts that we can get for 3 dollars back home start at 150 RMB which is roughly 35 dollars. It’s that kind of market.
We end up is a tea room, on the third floor of the meeting point below, and discover all the tour guides sitting around a table counting money, and I have to say it’s the most $50 notes I’ve ever seen in one place. It is, we were told, where they discussed ‘strategy’.
It is not raining when we woke, but it had been most of the night. After a cold start, the weather, seems to have improved, if only for the time being.
Today’s expedition is the Cascade Brewery, which doesn’t have tours at the moment because of staff issues with Covid, but does have a bar and restaurant. There is also a historic site, an old women’s prison, and botanical gardens. I’m not sure how far we’ll get in the gardens, but the bar and restaurant is looking good.
We get there and decide on lunch first then a visit to the women’s prison.
Fail. The bar and restaurant are packed and there are no tables left. Time for a photograph of the old brewery, and move on.
Instead of going to the prison, just down the road, we go off in a different direction, to Mt Wellington, thinking it might give excellent views of Hobart.
Only a sign says the road is supposed to be closed, but it is not, so we and a dozen others are venturing up the road towards the summit.
The road was probably opened temporarily, but it is getting more treacherous as the snow appears and the road is wet. We make it about 2km before deciding it’s unsafe.
The adventure continues because at the bottom of the hill we decided to go to Huonville, hoping to chance upon the apple orchards and all things apple.
It was an immense letdown. There was nothing, except for one innocuous building with a sign out front saying it was open, but for all intents and purposes looked like it was completely empty.
Until you drove around the back to the carpark where there were hundreds of cars, and inside, totally packed.
It’s where everyone in Huonville had gone.
And not where we were going to get a distinctly Tasmanian meal.
We had to settle for another pie from Banjo’s in Sandy Bay.
Overnight the rain began and hasn’t stopped. It is cold, and the heater in the room is not quite adequate for the space it has to heat up. Fortunately, the bed has electric blankets, and it was warm, lying wake listening to the raindrops. That warmth makes it difficult to get out of bed, but this is a holiday, and we have to get motivated.
We have a balcony, and from there the bleakness of the early morning is stark, but at least the rain is light if not a fine mist.
Worse, it alternates between this fine mist and a short downpour, which means the umbrella goes up and down until you give up. Later, the rain is not heavy, and just tolerable.
We head off to the Salamanca markets, happening only on Saturday morning. Unable to walk long distances, we drive, about four minutes from our apartment, but miss a turn, it takes 10, then and 5 to assess the parking situation which, in the end, was the easiest part of this expedition.
The hardest part, walking among the very large crowd of people defying the rain and cold. I can tolerate large crowds but today, they seem to want to stop suddenly, and just stand and talk in the middle of the walkways making it difficult to impossible to maintain any sort of continuity.
There were hundreds of stalls, the most predominant, micro distillers for some odd reason, selling expensive spirits for about $90 a 700ml bottle, which I regard as overly expensive. My son has made Bourbon some years ago and it cost him about $10 for 4.5 liters, so it must be a lucrative sideline, even after you’ve added the excise.
There were a great many food stands, and choices, one of which was a curly potato skewer, which was interesting to say the least. On a meat pie quest, we found a stand that sold pies, but they were warming a new batch, and the waiting line was about 50 or 60 people long.
I went back a half-hour later and they had sold out. They must be one of the highlights of the market to be so in demand, and that people would stand in the cold and rain just to get one.
Having been defeated by aches and pains, the cold and rain, as well as the large crowd, and the absence of anything we wanted, it was fortunate that time had expired on our parking space.
We had contemplated finding a restaurant to have lunch, deciding it was time to have a proper meal rather than a snack, there didn’t seem to be any places open, and the cafes were packed.
This sparked off an odyssey to find a decent restaurant.
After leaving the markets, we find a road that follows the coastline. Aside from houses either side, and at one point a marina and the Wrest Point casino, which was not a place we intended to visit, the further we went, the less chance it seemed of finding what we were looking for.
But we did find a tourist attraction, a shot tower, and a museum.
And a tea room that had afternoon tea. Not exactly what we were looking for. That said, and feeling like going any further would not fix the search parameters, I go to Google maps and search for restaurants near us.
There’s a Vietnamese restaurant, 6.1 km back the way we came, and being the best choice out of five or six others, we go.
And here’s the thing, it’s just around the corner from where we’re staying. Go figure.
But, there is a twist, we drive past one of the hotels that were recommended to us back at the apartments, so we go there, the Hotel Doctor Syntax. We figure we’re more likely to get the vegetable component there than the other place.
It turns out to be a master stroke, getting steak, pork belly, roast potatoes, gravy, asparagus, and seafood on the side. All having generous servings as one would expect from a hotel bistro.
The food must be great because they were full and had to turn people away. We were very lucky to get the last table but one, and that one didn’t last very long.
After a long, leisurely lunch surrounded by warmth and atmosphere, we had one more stop. Coffee and cake at Daci and Daci, a café recommended to us.
It was worth the experience, although it took some fortitude to fit it in after such a large lunch. I suspect before we go back for a second visit, yes, it was that good, we will make sure we are less full of lunch first. The cake I had was delicious but very filling. The coffee? Excellent.
Overnight the rain began and hasn’t stopped. It is cold, and the heater in the room is not quite adequate for the space it has to heat up. Fortunately, the bed has electric blankets, and it was warm, lying wake listening to the raindrops. That warmth makes it difficult to get out of bed, but this is a holiday, and we have to get motivated.
We have a balcony, and from there the bleakness of the early morning is stark, but at least the rain is light if not a fine mist.
Worse, it alternates between this fine mist and a short downpour, which means the umbrella goes up and down until you give up. Later, the rain is not heavy, and just tolerable.
We head off to the Salamanca markets, happening only on Saturday morning. Unable to walk long distances, we drive, about four minutes from our apartment, but miss a turn, it takes 10, then and 5 to assess the parking situation which, in the end, was the easiest part of this expedition.
The hardest part, walking among the very large crowd of people defying the rain and cold. I can tolerate large crowds but today, they seem to want to stop suddenly, and just stand and talk in the middle of the walkways making it difficult to impossible to maintain any sort of continuity.
There were hundreds of stalls, the most predominant, micro distillers for some odd reason, selling expensive spirits for about $90 a 700ml bottle, which I regard as overly expensive. My son has made Bourbon some years ago and it cost him about $10 for 4.5 liters, so it must be a lucrative sideline, even after you’ve added the excise.
There were a great many food stands, and choices, one of which was a curly potato skewer, which was interesting to say the least. On a meat pie quest, we found a stand that sold pies, but they were warming a new batch, and the waiting line was about 50 or 60 people long.
I went back a half-hour later and they had sold out. They must be one of the highlights of the market to be so in demand, and that people would stand in the cold and rain just to get one.
Having been defeated by aches and pains, the cold and rain, as well as the large crowd, and the absence of anything we wanted, it was fortunate that time had expired on our parking space.
We had contemplated finding a restaurant to have lunch, deciding it was time to have a proper meal rather than a snack, there didn’t seem to be any places open, and the cafes were packed.
This sparked off an odyssey to find a decent restaurant.
After leaving the markets, we find a road that follows the coastline. Aside from houses either side, and at one point a marina and the Wrest Point casino, which was not a place we intended to visit, the further we went, the less chance it seemed of finding what we were looking for.
But we did find a tourist attraction, a shot tower, and a museum.
And a tea room that had afternoon tea. Not exactly what we were looking for. That said, and feeling like going any further would not fix the search parameters, I go to Google maps and search for restaurants near us.
There’s a Vietnamese restaurant, 6.1 km back the way we came, and being the best choice out of five or six others, we go.
And here’s the thing, it’s just around the corner from where we’re staying. Go figure.
But, there is a twist, we drive past one of the hotels that were recommended to us back at the apartments, so we go there, the Hotel Doctor Syntax. We figure we’re more likely to get the vegetable component there than the other place.
It turns out to be a master stroke, getting steak, pork belly, roast potatoes, gravy, asparagus, and seafood on the side. All having generous servings as one would expect from a hotel bistro.
The food must be great because they were full and had to turn people away. We were very lucky to get the last table but one, and that one didn’t last very long.
After a long, leisurely lunch surrounded by warmth and atmosphere, we had one more stop. Coffee and cake at Daci and Daci, a café recommended to us.
It was worth the experience, although it took some fortitude to fit it in after such a large lunch. I suspect before we go back for a second visit, yes, it was that good, we will make sure we are less full of lunch first. The cake I had was delicious but very filling. The coffee? Excellent.
Who hasn’t been on one of these, particularly if you have an older brother or sister, and they have nothing better to do than give you a hard time.
You know what I mean, going on a mission to find or do something, knowing full well that you won’t find it, or complete it because it was a lost cause to start with.
Yes, it goes very well with another saying, a dog chasing its tail.
We’ve seen that, too, watching the poor dog go round and round without ever achieving anything.
Sounds like my day today.
And it doesn’t stop there, the pointless search could also be described as ‘searching for a needle in a haystack’.
That is, to my mind the very definition of a living nightmare.
The origin of the idiom, well that’s a little more complicated because there isn’t just one definition.
The first:
Coined by William Shakespeare, but not necessarily in the sort of language we can read easily – it’s a bit like my ability to translate Spanish to English. It does, however, refer to a ‘wild goose chase’.
The second:
Refers to, of all things 16th Century horseracing, and because I don’t have a time machine I can’t go back to fact-check. However, it refers to the other riders following the leader around the course, in much the same formation as geese flying through the air.
…
My little story to go with it:
…
If you are good at your job, and that is beginning to be noticed, your boss will find one of these ‘wild goose chases’ just for you, in an effort to make you look bad.
It happened to me once: my task was to search the basement, where old records were stored, for a folder that a former employee had thought they had filed it in the wrong storage box, a supposition supported by the fact the folder was now needed to clear up a clerical error and the file wasn’t in the specifically marked storage box.
My job was to search every one of the other 765 boxes stored haphazardly in the basement until I found it.
It was, I was told later, sitting on his desk the whole time, and when I couldn’t find it, was going to swoop in and say he’d found it.
Of course, it went missing before he could, so he got a bollicking for not storing the files properly, and I got the job to clean up the basement. I’m not sure who got the worst punishment.
The architecture along the Bund or Waitan is a living museum of the colonial history of the 1800s. The area centers on a section of Zhongshan Road within the former Shanghai International Settlement.
The word bund means an embankment or an embanked quay. It was initially a British settlement; later the British and American settlements were combined in the International Settlement.
The Bund is a mile-long stretch of waterfront promenade along the Huangpu River. There are 52 buildings of various architectural styles, including Gothic, baroque, and neoclassical styles. The area is often referred to as “the museum of buildings”.
Building styles include Romanesque Revival, Gothic Revival, Renaissance Revival, Baroque Revival, Neo-Classical or Beaux-Arts, as well as a number in Art Deco style.
Having seen these buildings initially the night before, mostly lit up, our viewing this morning was from the land side, and particularly interesting in that the colonial architecture was really fascinating considering their location, but not surprising given Shanghai’s history. A lot of these buildings would be more at home in London, that out in the far east.
The Bund waterfront is about two kilometers long and impossible to cover in the time allowed for this part of the tour.
There was just enough time to get photos of the waterfront and the old buildings.
Some of these buildings had odd shapes, like one on the far right that looks like a bottle opener.
And, for some odd reason, a bull.
On the other side of the water, the sights that had been quite colorful the night before, were equally impressive though somewhat diminished by the haze.
Overnight the rain began and hasn’t stopped. It is cold, and the heater in the room is not quite adequate for the space it has to heat up. Fortunately, the bed has electric blankets, and it was warm, lying wake listening to the raindrops. That warmth makes it difficult to get out of bed, but this is a holiday, and we have to get motivated.
We have a balcony, and from there the bleakness of the early morning is stark, but at least the rain is light if not a fine mist.
Worse, it alternates between this fine mist and a short downpour, which means the umbrella goes up and down until you give up. Later, the rain is not heavy, and just tolerable.
We head off to the Salamanca markets, happening only on Saturday morning. Unable to walk long distances, we drive, about four minutes from our apartment, but miss a turn, it takes 10, then and 5 to assess the parking situation which, in the end, was the easiest part of this expedition.
The hardest part, walking among the very large crowd of people defying the rain and cold. I can tolerate large crowds but today, they seem to want to stop suddenly, and just stand and talk in the middle of the walkways making it difficult to impossible to maintain any sort of continuity.
There were hundreds of stalls, the most predominant, micro distillers for some odd reason, selling expensive spirits for about $90 a 700ml bottle, which I regard as overly expensive. My son has made Bourbon some years ago and it cost him about $10 for 4.5 liters, so it must be a lucrative sideline, even after you’ve added the excise.
There were a great many food stands, and choices, one of which was a curly potato skewer, which was interesting to say the least. On a meat pie quest, we found a stand that sold pies, but they were warming a new batch, and the waiting line was about 50 or 60 people long.
I went back a half-hour later and they had sold out. They must be one of the highlights of the market to be so in demand, and that people would stand in the cold and rain just to get one.
Having been defeated by aches and pains, the cold and rain, as well as the large crowd, and the absence of anything we wanted, it was fortunate that time had expired on our parking space.
We had contemplated finding a restaurant to have lunch, deciding it was time to have a proper meal rather than a snack, there didn’t seem to be any places open, and the cafes were packed.
This sparked off an odyssey to find a decent restaurant.
After leaving the markets, we find a road that follows the coastline. Aside from houses either side, and at one point a marina and the Wrest Point casino, which was not a place we intended to visit, the further we went, the less chance it seemed of finding what we were looking for.
But we did find a tourist attraction, a shot tower, and a museum.
And a tea room that had afternoon tea. Not exactly what we were looking for. That said, and feeling like going any further would not fix the search parameters, I go to Google maps and search for restaurants near us.
There’s a Vietnamese restaurant, 6.1 km back the way we came, and being the best choice out of five or six others, we go.
And here’s the thing, it’s just around the corner from where we’re staying. Go figure.
But, there is a twist, we drive past one of the hotels that were recommended to us back at the apartments, so we go there, the Hotel Doctor Syntax. We figure we’re more likely to get the vegetable component there than the other place.
It turns out to be a master stroke, getting steak, pork belly, roast potatoes, gravy, asparagus, and seafood on the side. All having generous servings as one would expect from a hotel bistro.
The food must be great because they were full and had to turn people away. We were very lucky to get the last table but one, and that one didn’t last very long.
After a long, leisurely lunch surrounded by warmth and atmosphere, we had one more stop. Coffee and cake at Daci and Daci, a café recommended to us.
It was worth the experience, although it took some fortitude to fit it in after such a large lunch. I suspect before we go back for a second visit, yes, it was that good, we will make sure we are less full of lunch first. The cake I had was delicious but very filling. The coffee? Excellent.
Who hasn’t been on one of these, particularly if you have an older brother or sister, and they have nothing better to do than give you a hard time.
You know what I mean, going on a mission to find or do something, knowing full well that you won’t find it, or complete it because it was a lost cause to start with.
Yes, it goes very well with another saying, a dog chasing its tail.
We’ve seen that, too, watching the poor dog go round and round without ever achieving anything.
Sounds like my day today.
And it doesn’t stop there, the pointless search could also be described as ‘searching for a needle in a haystack’.
That is, to my mind the very definition of a living nightmare.
The origin of the idiom, well that’s a little more complicated because there isn’t just one definition.
The first:
Coined by William Shakespeare, but not necessarily in the sort of language we can read easily – it’s a bit like my ability to translate Spanish to English. It does, however, refer to a ‘wild goose chase’.
The second:
Refers to, of all things 16th Century horseracing, and because I don’t have a time machine I can’t go back to fact-check. However, it refers to the other riders following the leader around the course, in much the same formation as geese flying through the air.
…
My little story to go with it:
…
If you are good at your job, and that is beginning to be noticed, your boss will find one of these ‘wild goose chases’ just for you, in an effort to make you look bad.
It happened to me once: my task was to search the basement, where old records were stored, for a folder that a former employee had thought they had filed it in the wrong storage box, a supposition supported by the fact the folder was now needed to clear up a clerical error and the file wasn’t in the specifically marked storage box.
My job was to search every one of the other 765 boxes stored haphazardly in the basement until I found it.
It was, I was told later, sitting on his desk the whole time, and when I couldn’t find it, was going to swoop in and say he’d found it.
Of course, it went missing before he could, so he got a bollicking for not storing the files properly, and I got the job to clean up the basement. I’m not sure who got the worst punishment.
The old Shanghai refers to a small area of Shanghai that used to be walled in and remained that way until about 1912 when all but a small section of the wall was demolished. With the advent of the concessions, Old Shanghai became the administrative center until later when it became a shopping complex.
Now it has many restored historical buildings as well as new buildings in a somewhat traditional style that has become one of Shanghai’s main tourist attractions, housing many shops and restaurants.
The “Old Town” is not exclusively old, as you still have a chance to take in the atmosphere if you wander into the quaint side streets.
But, on first viewing walking down the street towards the complex, I’m not sure I’d go as far as to say this is in reality old Shanghai, except for what appears to be a true representation of it architecturally.
The buildings, which are shops and restaurants, are set out symmetrically, with streets, alleyways, and squares which may prove that it was specially built for the tourists, and no mechanized traffic.
Anyway…
The buildings are magnificent, and a photographer’s delight, and you’d finish up having hundreds of photos by the time you leave. All the buildings are exquisite representations of traditional Chinese architecture.
As for buying stuff, remember if you’re not Chinese you have the sucker tourist stamp on your forehead, so be prepared to walk away if the vendors will not bargain.
Nothing here is worth the price tag and in our group discounts like from 130 RMB to 50 RMB and from 1 for 1,200 to 2 for 950 RMB are common.
Here common t-shirts that we can get for 3 dollars back home start at 150 RMB which is roughly 35 dollars. It’s that kind of market.
We end up is a tea room, on the third floor of the meeting point below, and discover all the tour guides sitting around a table counting money, and I have to say it’s the most $50 notes I’ve ever seen in one place. It is, we were told, where they discussed ‘strategy’.
The old Shanghai refers to a small area of Shanghai that used to be walled in and remained that way until about 1912 when all but a small section of the wall was demolished. With the advent of the concessions, Old Shanghai became the administrative center until later when it became a shopping complex.
Now it has many restored historical buildings as well as new buildings in a somewhat traditional style that has become one of Shanghai’s main tourist attractions, housing many shops and restaurants.
The “Old Town” is not exclusively old, as you still have a chance to take in the atmosphere if you wander into the quaint side streets.
But, on first viewing walking down the street towards the complex, I’m not sure I’d go as far as to say this is in reality old Shanghai, except for what appears to be a true representation of it architecturally.
The buildings, which are shops and restaurants, are set out symmetrically, with streets, alleyways, and squares which may prove that it was specially built for the tourists, and no mechanized traffic.
Anyway…
The buildings are magnificent, and a photographer’s delight, and you’d finish up having hundreds of photos by the time you leave. All the buildings are exquisite representations of traditional Chinese architecture.
As for buying stuff, remember if you’re not Chinese you have the sucker tourist stamp on your forehead, so be prepared to walk away if the vendors will not bargain.
Nothing here is worth the price tag and in our group discounts like from 130 RMB to 50 RMB and from 1 for 1,200 to 2 for 950 RMB are common.
Here common t-shirts that we can get for 3 dollars back home start at 150 RMB which is roughly 35 dollars. It’s that kind of market.
We end up is a tea room, on the third floor of the meeting point below, and discover all the tour guides sitting around a table counting money, and I have to say it’s the most $50 notes I’ve ever seen in one place. It is, we were told, where they discussed ‘strategy’.
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Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 