Shanghai is big. I am small.

Friday night my friend Ziyi and I hopped (or rather stepped elegantly) on to a fancy Z-train and 11-hour'd it down to Shanghai [writes Craig, chomping into a banana split].

We checked into the Captain Youth Hostel, right next to the Bund with a spectacular view from the rooftop bar (and less than a £fiver a night). I guess we did most of the standard Shanghai things; art museums, Yuyuan gardens, the French concession, various former residences of key figures in modern Chinese history, the Sex Culture and Health Museum and other mildly surprising list items. Shanghai feels rather like a European city, with narrow streets, plenty of "historic architecture" (much of it, well, European) and a Sex Culture and Health Museum.

Aside from all that highbrow malarkey, we did much people-watching, skyscraper-gawping, sweating, fume-breathing and sweating. The air cleared on Sunday, permitting charming views of the advertising boats sailing up and down the Huangpu river.

I like it there, really. It's a bit more organised than Beijing's sprawl, but with the same nice little alcoves. The streets are narrower, but you're less in danger of being run down by a horse. Parts of it feel uncomfortably exclusive though. To wit:


Returned to the Beige on Tuesday; the sky was blue and the climate was cool. Didn't last.

[Finishes banana split, is run down by horse.]