Shanghai in Golden Week
Shanghai, as one of the great cities of the world, was a glaring omission in our travels. We hadn’t had time to include it in our China trip of 2013 and so, with North Korea no longer being an option, we thought, why not?
Had we known it was Golden Week and that seemingly the rest of China would also be in the city, we might have thought otherwise.
Golden Week is a week long public holiday to commemorate the founding of the People’s Republic of China on 1st October 1949.
Our brief 3 day visit didn’t get off to the best of starts with our connecting flight from Vladivostok to Beijing being 50 minutes late taking off, reducing our barely comfortable hour & 40 minute transfer time to just 50 minutes. Luckily we’d filled in a little form in Vladivostok which meant we didn’t need to collect and recheck our bags. We thought we might be OK, just. Cue very un-British shove everyone out of the way to get off the plane and a mad, hot dash through the airport.
Confusion reigned over which form we needed and which queue we should be in to get our 240 hour visa free visit. The minutes ticked down. The border guard was lovely but, with less than 30 minutes to go, we really didn’t want a nice friendly chat. Visa acquired and mad dash recommenced, only to discover we needed to catch a train to the domestic bit of the humongous airport terminal. It was now 8:10pm our flight was at 8:30pm. How long does it take? we gasped. 11 minutes came the cheerful reply. We were doomed.
We charged off the little train. And were then directed, along with around thirty others from our flight to a cordoned off check-in area. Flight at 7.45am tomorrow, we were informed and here’s the leaflet to get a free hotel stay. Great. Hot and sweaty all to no avail.
To be fair, the hotel wasn’t too bad, far better than the Rose Palace in Lahore that we’d actually chosen to stay at. It had slippers and more importantly, a kettle. We even got a hot dinner, albeit delivered after we’d gone to bed & Simon had to get dressed again in order to answer the door.
Half asleep, we renegotiated the endless miles of airport corridors, recaught the train and queued for the over zealous security checks where our powerbank was confiscated for not being ‘China safe’! I mean, WTF, 9 countries so far, 10 including UK security and no-one else has had a problem. We were not happy. All this, for 3 days? Was it going to be worth coming at all?
Our luxury taxi (treat) from the airport dropped us at our apartment, in a lovely art deco building that looked across to a bustling street market and a very swanky new restaurant, bar and shopping complex complete with a life-size ocean liner courtesy of Louis Vuitton…….
At this point, the Golden Week concerns seemed misplaced as the streets around were all fairly quiet. Reality hit when we caught the subway to the Bund later that afternoon. We thought we’d stroll along the pedestrian East Nanjing Road with it’s old colonial buildings that housed the country’s first department store back in the 1920’s, and then out onto the Bund, the famous walkway that runs along the Huangpu River from where you have fabulous views of the illuminated Pudong skyscrapers. Reality was a subway packed so tight you know how a sardine feels, a station closed as it was too busy, and East Nanjing Road a seething mass of millions surging along a route now lined with hundreds of brightly lit stores each emitting blaring K-pop music along with a blast of (welcome) cold aircon. Everyone intent on doing exactly the same as us. And all in 90 degree heat and 80% humidity. It was not pleasant.
We took a quick left turn onto a parallel side street, deserted. Here the buildings were small, grey and just a bit scruffy. Here there was no cooling air con blasting out from the shop doors. It wasn’t glamorous. But at least it was quiet and we reached the Bund in 10 minutes rather than the hour or more it would have taken on the ‘proper’ route.
The Bund, however, was already heaving. The multitude of whistle-happy police had crowd control measures in place. Pavements were cordoned off to stop anyone straying out of line. Pedestrian crossings were restricted to ‘one-way only’. We were being herded like sheep – maybe that accounts for the predilection for Little Bo Peep outfits sported by loads of young women…..
Across the water, the looming dark shapes of Pudong’s futurustic skyline rose against the grey of the early night sky. Impressive in their size with just a few windows glowing with yellow light, they were spectacular in their bright neon outfits. Purple, blue then scarlet lights shot up the tripod legs of the Oriental Pearl Tower up to it’s spikey top. Brightly illuminated pleasure boats plied the inky black water in front. The crowds were immense, the views obscured by a thousand smart phones, but once we’d fought our way to the front (more un-British barging) the view was fabulous. On the Bund side of the river, the colonial facades were elegant in their warm yellow glow juxtaposed with the bright red of the starkly beautiful Shanghai People’s Heroes Memorial. Its blocks towering above us and with golden lights flickering up it’s imposing sides, it neatly framed the Oriental Pearl Tower on the far bank. A dazzling display, if not the peaceful amble we’d hoped for.
The following morning we returned to the Bund in daylight. Pudong was far less glamorous without it’s neon finery, an array of glass and steel, all very tall but only the Oriental Pearl Tower with it’s splayed legs and assortment of spheres, blocks and spikes, really interesting and different from other high rise buildings around the world. The grand architecture of the Bund, however, was equally as elegant in daylight. The long parade of colonial baroque, gothic and neoclassical beauties, built in the early 20th century along the waterfront, now housing grand hotels and plush boutiques and the playground of choice for those that want to be seen.
This is a city that is part real, part film set. Appropriate, maybe, given Shanghai had the first movie studios in China during the 30’s, but not real. The normality of quiet side streets full of delicious local restaurants and apartment blocks, such as our lovely 1930s art deco building where washing is hung in corridors, sit side by side with those that appear constructed for a film. Perfect streets where emaculate flowers tumble from matching tubs and rental bikes are lined up in colour coordinated order and where huge glitzy malls full of designer flagship stores and celebrity restaurants cater to the residents of China’s wealthiest city.
Many people here seem to live in a fantasy world. One where interests that we grew out of before we went to secondary school seemingly continue indefinitely. The desire to attach small fluffy creatures to bags is very popular amongst adults. A stylish Louis Vuitton several hundred pound bag – pink, fluffy puppy in tuille dress attached. Black leather man bag – several pastel-coloured kittens attached. They have whole shops dedicated to these things. And then there’s the ridiculously huge furry bunny bags. For adults.
We also decided that there must be a great many fancy dress parties in Shanghai. That was the only way we could account for the frankly, bonkers outfits that so many teenage girls were wearing. Or perhaps the trend, for dressing young and innocent has filtered over from Japan (even if the execution is somewhat flawed)? Anime characters seemed to be a favourite and we spent an entertaining few hours, over a couple of cold beers, watching the posing antics. There seemed to be a routine of facial expressions, hand positions and poses to run through – maybe they take lessons?
Amidst this noise and commercialism and dwarfed by the surrounding modern skyscrapers sits the Jing’an Temple. The swirls of incense smoke perfumed the courtyard where the determined, but not very accurate, attempted to toss coins into the top of the 10m high ornate bronze cauldron in order to make a wish. Coins were pinging off in all directions, with passers-by just wishing to escape uninjured. Golden flayed eaves decorated with elephants are supported by huge teak pillars in the grand hall where a 20m high silver seated Buddha gazes serenely down on the sweaty visitors, many far more interested in the giant fans blasting out cold air. Although busy, it was a lovely, calm retreat away from the chaos outside.
We wandered the warren of longtang (alleyways) in the Tianzifang district where traditional shikumen houses now contain quirky boutiques, tea houses and artsy souvenir shops. It was busy with western tourists (we saw more here than anywhere else on our trip put together) but still had the quaint charm of a lived in neighbourhood in direct comparison to the purpose built ‘traditional’ buildings in Xintiandi which were heaving with domestic tourists but far too pristine and formulaic for us. We retreated to the cool of an air conditioned bar for a few craft beers.
One good thing to come from Golden Week was the night-time street food market right on our doorstep. On our last night we decided to indulge. The gateway of bright neon led onto a lively atmosphere where the scent of spice filled the air over the orange canopied stalls. We enjoyed a wonderful feast of flavours, starting with sizzling octopus on a stick, scrumtious crispy barbecued tentacles, followed by fried dumplings stuffed with pork and herbs and finishing with a huge, creamy dollop of pistachio ice-cream. Delicious. The best meal we had. You can save the swanky restaurants.
So, was it worth it? We’re not quite sure. It’s an interesting city, in parts, one that would be best enjoyed at a cooler time of year and not during a long national holiday. If it had been quieter it would have been a nicer experience. So we’re taking it as a chaotic introduction to the far east leg of our trip and hope it means Seoul will feel like a breath of fresh air in comparison. Though it is the Chuseok holiday in Seoul, a national holiday………..
Helen (7th October 2025)