Olden golden day

I knew I loved China halfway through my first mooncake. Not just because it was scrumptious - crumbly pastry filled with sweet green mung bean paste, walnuts and sesame seeds (I promise it's yum) but I was eating it in the French Concession, a shabby-chic neighbourhood defined by its wide leafy streets, the former mansions of French traders, and hundreds of cute little shops. It was...tres, tres bon.

The mooncakes, traditionally eaten at the mid-Autumn festival a week ago, have their flavour stamped on the top in red dye.

I had spent the afternoon with Lydia and an English girl from my hostel, Rosemary. It was great to walk around with a Chinese girl - she helped make sense of what was going on, and spotted the mooncakes which I would have walked right past.

We went to Fuxing Park, an oasis of bamboo and palms in the city:

 Where people were flying kites, doing tai chi, several brides and grooms were having photoshoots, and old men played Chinese board games at tables and on benches:

Kids were fishing for these orange minnows that had been tipped into the stagnant pool just for that purpose:

Someone had written a poem on the ground with rainwater - according to Lydia it is about how when the moon is full you are closer to your loved ones far away.

Around the park are mansion houses, some preserved well, others, lived in by big groups of families, are falling apart. The whole area was so calm, hardly any traffic, just slow strollers.

We then found a fancy hotel which had been built in 1917 by a British businessman who owned the local dog-racing track. Clearly the profession to be in:

In 1945 the hotel became the headquarters of China's Kuomintang, the ruling party pre-Communism. Its leader Chiang Kai-Shek got married here, too.

There were loads of cute shops in the French Concession, including food stalls from the large:

To the small:

These crabs were alive - technically - their claws moving in a slow-motion plea for mercy through holes in the sack.

I also saw city pigeons in a cage ready to be slaughtered - a group of men got angry when I tried to photograph them. Lydia said Chinese animal right activists often protest against people eating pigeons, as they're a symbol of peace. My question is why do they put the cages right out on the street if they want to keep the activity secret?

Dumpling shop

Tea boutique

Man carrying fruit

The whole city was decorated with lanterns and flags - it was national day.

Heh.

By this point we were pretty tired, but Lydia had more in store for us - we headed to Shanghai's old walled Chinese town, to the incredible City God Temple, a huge temple complex now full of hundreds of Chinese touristy knick knack shops and thousands of Chinese on their national day holiday. It was so much fun.

KFC temple - hey, I said it was touristy!

 Chinese sweets

Fans for sale

Beautiful flower teas

 There were intricate artisan papercuts for sale; I thought I'd show you this Nicolas Sarkozy one instead.

Dumplings with straws - all the better to suck the delicious juices out, my dear.

Dumpling stall with giant dumpling on top!

 

If you're anything like as exhausted finishing this post as I was on arriving back at the hostel, you'll know where I spent the rest of the evening: