Broken Pizza and Eye Patches

(Colin)

Here goes another blog post; lets see how entertaining I can make it.

On Saturday morning, the Sarcastic Five (with temporary member Dawn) arose to a misty morning in Shanghai.  We met in the lobby at 8:30 am, ready for a day of exploration.  Having woken up at about 7:30, the meeting time of 8:30 in the lobby seemed to be a bit late for me, but nonetheless, we met.

As breakfast was not included with the hotel fee, we decided to find a place in the city to eat.  After walking for five minutes, across a river, and down the Bund, a historic avenue of European design, we stumbled upon a coffee shop.  I ordered a large Americano and a traditional Chinese chicken Caesar wrap, Chris got a Croissant with some coffee, Lizzy a Cappucino with some type of pastry, and Dawn purchased some tea and what looked like bread.  Ryan, however, not being a coffee drinker, decided to go to the subway next door, and came back with a sub and a coke.  At 9:00 am.  Over breakfast, Chris regaled us with stories of his childhood, and the conversation ran from wild animal experiences to desk fans.

After we left the Gloria Jeans, we walked down the Bund a ways and eventually turned west, heading to wards the Shanghai museum.  Immediately after turning, we spotted an Italian restaurant, which we decided would be our lunch, and a club that I had read about online the night before, called the “House of Blues and Jazz”.  We decided to check it out after dinner, and kept going towards the museum.  On our way, we stopped at a bookstore, which had all kinds of various novels, publications, and other such things on paper.  We continued westward, through some odd intersections, and we soon found ourselves facing a large building of questionable design, which featured free admission and invasive security.

The Shanghai museum housed thousands of historic pieces form all over chine dating back over 10,000 years.  We moseyed through the museum for a good 2.5 hours, during which I heard many different languages.  Not much is to be said about the museum, other than that it was the best museum I’ve ever been to.  Being a huge history buff, I had a field day examining the various oddities and curios.  Among my favorites were some old coins for thousands of years ago, and a particularly amusing statue of a dog.

After we left the museum, a light drizzle had set in.  We were amused by the number of peddlers selling umbrellas, but decided that getting a bit moist isn’t that bad.  We walked back the road we came from, though on the other side, and saw millions of shops selling trophies and calligraphy implements.  After a short while, we came upon our destination: the Italian restaurant we saw earlier.  With great excitement, we entered, and enjoyed the atmosphere and the bread basket.  Lizzy ordered proscutto (sic) with melon, Ryan got some shrimp alfredo thing, and Dawn, Chris and I all ordered pizza.  Ryan was confused as to what a Margherita pizza was, thinking that it was a pizza version of a Mexican cocktail.  Shocked, I explained to him what it really was.

Soon, everyone’s food arrived.  Except mine.  The waitress explained to Dawn, who explained to me, that the chef had “broken” my pizza, and that they were making another.  This seemed wrong in several ways.  First and foremost, how does a chef, who is trained in making pizzas, fail at making the easiest type of pizza there is?  Second, how does one “break” a pizza?  And finally, would they take the charge of my pizza off the bill? The five of us discussed the possibilities to these three questions, with much hysterical laughter.  In the end, I had to pay for my food, which was delicious. 

Having eaten the best Italian food that I’ve had since I left the US, and also the second Italian food I’d eaten since I’d left the US, I felt very satisfied as we went to the subway station.  We had planned to go across the river after lunch, and see the modern buildings.  Sadly, when we got there, the drizzle had picked up, and you couldn’t see the tops of most of the buildings.  We took shelter in a mall nearby, which was realy more of a small city than anything else.  Seriously.  This place was massive.  So massive, in fact, that I could see it from the exit of the subway station, perhaps hundreds of feet away.

Though we bought nothing, we toured the 13-story behemoth, and soon went to go to the Hyatt, the second tallest building in Shanghai, where Chris had read of a lounge called Cloud Nine, on the 87^th floor.  We hoped that we could stay for a couple hours and look down on the city as nighttime came.  This plan, however, did not come to fruition.  Though we stayed at cloud nine for a few hours, and have some great conversation, the cloud cover only got worse as time went on.  We mused that we were actually 87 stories underground, as all we could see outside was a grey wall of cloud, thought it could have just been a painted concrete wall.  We exited the Hyatt, and were struck at how dark it had become.  We made our way back to the hotel, and were approached by countless peddlers of fake Rolexes, fake Gucci bags, and fake iPhones.  Having already purchased ten watches on this journey, and wary of the US Customs officer’s reaction when I walk through the airport in two weeks, I decided not to buy more.

We rested at the hotel for a half hour, and we regrouped to get dinner.  Lizzy, Dawn, and I went to a Japanese fast food place, while Chris and Ryan went to Pizza Hut.  Us three discussed colleges, before we finally went over to see if Chris and Ryan were done.  As we did, I was surprised at how nice the Pizza Hut was.  Seriously, it was awesome.  Still a Pizza Hut, but very nice.  As we left Pizza Hut, a man asked Chris if he wanted to get massages, and we all simply laughed and walked away.

After some more walking in drizzle, we came to the light at the end of the misty tunnel: the House of Blues and Jazz.  Decorated like a 19209’s speakeasy, the club had a large bar area and would eventually have live music.  We all found some seats, and waited for the act to start.  At around 10:30, Charlie Sayles and the Moonshine Society stepped onto the stage, and I immediately fell in love with the music.

Charlie Sayles, the male vocalist and harmonica-ist, had a B.B. King-like voice, and, interestingly enough, an eyepatch.  The Female vocalist, Black Betty, had a large white flower in her hair.  She was fantastic.  The band was loud, upbeat, and awesome.  Ryan, Lizzy, and Dawn went back to the hotel after about 40 minutes, due to a reasonable amount of exhaustion, but Chris and I stayed until 12:30, having a blast with the great music.

We left, and a woman outside tried to sell us massages.  We said no thanks, and we kept walking, back to the Seagull, which we started to call the Pigeon, after what Lizzy accidentally called it once due to forgetting the small fowl from which the club got its name.

Shangahi was a magnificent place, and I was surpised to find, while back at the Pigeon, that I had taken over 800 pictures in those two days alone.  By the time we got back to Hangzhou, it would be over 1,000 in one weekend.